A/N: Mm. Copout. (Yawn.)
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Uno's assistant took a nap in one of his other chairs after she finished delivering the latest memo to the writers. He watched her, bored, while he idly doodled on his personalized stationary.
Now that he thought about it, it seemed like they never slept, or ate, or went to the bathroom, never did anything except deliver memos from unseen executives, complain about them, and take them to the writers (who also never seemed to do anything but write and sometimes, when they thought no one was looking, scratch themselves).
It was almost like television. He vaguely wondered, as he drew Tokyo being flattened by Godzilla, if they were being watched, but quickly dismissed these silly ideas.