A/N: For some reason I kept wanting to put off writing this chapter. It's pretty odd, mainly because I enjoy writing so much… but I just found a bunch of other stuff that I wanted to do. But I was actually working on it over the whole time… really. I started writing it a long time ago, and then I just left it alone, picked it up again, left it some more, and then finally finished. Wow.

Begin

As the author of this fic, it is my sworn duty to inform you that this chapter takes place several decades before the previous chapters of the Chronology series. Though it may not seem it, it all adds up later on.

Tri چ

Jump City was one of those "special" places on Earth. People would awaken to a bright, sunny morning, where they would casually get out of bed, scratch themselves, yawn, take a shower, pee, and make breakfast. They would then lazily get into their business clothes and leave their homes, ready for work.

Now in Jump City, two things could happen as you were going to work. One, you would get to your destination without a hitch or two, your life was threatened by acts that involved maiming, robbery, shoot-ups, destruction, or scary butt-rape. People born and raised in the city were quite used to possibility number two (due to the fact that it happened more often than number one), but it still struck fear into the hearts of tourists and the occasional Little Timmy that happened to be passing by. Not only did there seem to be a high crime rate, but also a large number of the citizens had HIV. …Ugh…

All other citizens, however, continued their day without any fear of these threats. If, say, Mr. X was suddenly dragged into a dark alley and found himself staring down a pistol, he would find this to be an act of excitement and would casually thank the gun for bringing thrill into his life. If Madame Y found herself getting butchered by a man with a steak knife, she would say to herself "No harm done!" and would lie in the few liters of blood she had just lost.

With all of these disgustingly optimistic people, Jump City was known throughout the planet as the ninth wonder of the world (the eighth being taken by Charlie the jet-piloting Beagle). Optimists throughout the world would travel to this city to experience these events first-hand, many of them never leaving.

The real estate was just too good to pass.

Of course, Jump City's only real problem was its crime rate. People never seemed to realize that "robbers" weren't actually actors that would later return the victim's money, but actual bastards that, by now, didn't even need to rob to maintain a life reserved for the Fortunate Sons. Instead, they often smoked their dollar bills (increasing the lung cancer rate as they did so) and bathed in perfumed waters. This is how people such as the mayor of the city got their enormous wealth.

On a brighter side, Jump City led the country in per capita GDP. People from all over the country would move to the city to take advantage of the occupation of burglary. Of course, there were a few oddballs living there; those that weren't optimists and didn't want a job of robbery.

A perfect example was Levon Wilson. Levon was a typical family man; he was living at the age of 32 in a large mansion with his wife, Kristin Wilson, and his children, Leroy and May.

Levon worked as an executive of a box company, where he spent typical working hours managing employees and making a large sum of monetary compensation. He would leave his office at 5:30, engage in normal traffic, and (without typical Jump City delays), he would pull into his three-car garage and greet his family.

After Levon would eat his dinner, he would play some table games with the kids and enjoy their presence. At precisely nine o'clock, the tots would go to bed, and Levon would enjoy the company of Kristin, his lovingly-typical housewife. They would go to bed at ten and generally fall asleep by half-past eleven… It's up to you to accept what they did or not.

Levon would fall asleep, as men supposedly do after these events, and he would later wake up at half-past seven to prepare for work. And this is where our chapter really begins.

A Typical Morning

As the sun continued its rise over the earth, people began to slowly wake up. As the sun shined through the master bedroom of 3559 Fry Road, Jump City, an alarm clock on the nightstand prepared itself for its once-a-day routine. In bright red, Levon Wilson's clock proudly displayed "7:29". The sun shined, nature continued to awaken, and as the clock's two final digits changed, an annoying, ear-piercing alarm reverberated throughout the room.

Levon Wilson opened his eyes as he felt his eardrum begin to rupture. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it was a feeling that had to be felt… every day of his LIFE. He lazily reached over and tapped the clock, which then went mute. Now wide awake, Levon dragged himself out of bed and headed over to his bathroom to get ready for the day.

Meanwhile, Kristin Wilson was well into the process of prepping her seven and nine-year old children for their fun day of education.

"Now listen, May," began the wife as she put her hands on her daughter's shoulders in that typical mother-ish way. "I want you to be on your best behavior for Mrs… Where's your brother?"

"Beats me, Mom," replied May, shrugging. "He claimed he was going to try some new stunt. Something about jumping off a roof."

Two houses down, young Leroy Wilson stood at the top of Mrs. O'Reilly's roof. He was the epitome of adventure, if not suicide, for his usual seven-year old "mischief" consisted of such acts. Just two days ago, he managed to burn down the county library after experimenting with matches and a perfectly innocently placed container of napalm jelly. It unfortunately stuck to his clothing and, after somehow splashing everybody else after tripping, stuck to everyone else. To the contradiction of much protest, Leroy Wilson lit a match and proved the book Fahrenheit 451 true. Last week, Leroy was accused of purchasing an illegal firearm and ammunition. He then literally decided he was going to see how a gun work, pointed the barrel to his head, and pulled the trigger. I don't know how he managed to survive, but he did. Make up your own story.

Needless to say, Leroy was sadly retarded and couldn't really do anything for himself. He was completely dependent on his mother and father, and, occasionally, his sister May. He wasn't necessarily looking for trouble; trouble was looking for him.

Many a time has the family taken their little boy to the Jump City Church of Catholicism in hopes that their little boy would be exercised. It was here that their little boy's head would turn around and have a sudden case of projectile vomiting, spewing up whatever was inside his stomach. The priests would all turn their backs to the family, not exactly caring; they had innocent altar boys waiting for them in the back rooms.

The family became Protestants after several tries. In that case, they denounced the belief that Lucifer himself was trying to take hold of little Leroy and believed that he was just mentally ill. He couldn't exactly complain, though, for his disease had deprived him of speech and the ability to hear. He instead had to rely on a mixture of sign language, gestures, and dry-erase boards in order to make any points across.

As we speak, Kristin Wilson was just about to set the example of the typical communication with Leroy. As she ran outside in her robe, hands ready to speak, she frantically approached the house her boy was currently station on top of.

Luckily, the author's amazing abilities of being able to translate sign language to English has spared the burden of doing it yourselves. Let's listen in.

HEY! GET OFF THAT ROOF IMMEDIATELY!

Leroy noticed his mother and shook his head.

No can do, Kristin! I'm stuck up here!

How did you get up there in the first place?

I climbed the gutter.

Climb down!

No.

Why not?

Because that would deprive the author of having any odd yet slightly comical situations happening to me.

Nobody gives a damn about the author!

Kristin suddenly received 300 volts of electricity for being crude.

Don't cuss, Kristin!

Quit calling me "Kristin"! Call me Mom!

Don't cuss, Mom!

Now get down here before I come up there and spank you!

I don't believe in incest, Mom!

Kristin then wondered how her child had heard about such things. Certainly not in her household!

Just… come down!

NO!

THE AUTHOR'S GETTING SICK OF CONTINUING THIS CONVERSATION! GET OFF THE ROOF NOW!

Fine… Fine…

Leroy Wilson then spread his arms and prepared to jump.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

I'm getting off the roof!

YOU'RE GOING TO JUMP?

No! I'm going to fly

Just as Kristin was about to run forward to catch her son, the author graciously reminded her that her son had been killed twenty times before and had fifty-one lives left on him.

And so, Leroy Wilson jumped and landed on his head, cracking his skull in several places. The Wheel of Life set in, and he was healed.

(A/N: The author would now like to say he is not a Hindu. Thank you.)

Now, hurry up and get ready for school. The bus will be here any minute.

Leroy did as his mother told and ran towards his house, ready to greet his sister and start the day. Kristin remained behind, watching her son as he ran haphazardly across the street, miraculously avoiding the cars.

"God…" said Kristin to herself as she shook her head. "Why does that boy have to be like that?"

"READ ROMANS 8:28 WHEN YOU GET HOME, WOMAN," responded GOD.

(A/N: No, the author is not making fun of Christianity. He was only making fun of Catholic priests.)

Kristin nodded her head and began the walk towards her house. She reached it, as the people in these fics usually do, grabbed the doorknob, and entered. There, she saw May, sitting at the kitchen table and playing with her Alphabet Cereal and Leroy, sticking forks in the toaster.

A low horn sounded outside, causing May to get up, grab her backpack and lunch box, and grab hold of her brother's hand.

"Have a good day at school," said Kristin as the children left the house.

Levon Wilson entered the kitchen, fixing the cuff of his right sleeve. "Good morning, Honey," he said typically as he gave his wife a peck on the cheek. "Did the kids get off all right?"

"Yes," replied Kristin as she sat at the kitchen table.

"Even Leroy?"

"Ah… That reminds me. He has fifty lives left."

Levon put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "That little…"

"Oh well. It's all part of raising a child, right?" asked his wife as she got up and hugged her husband.

"Meh…"

"You're not sorry we had Leroy, are you?"

"Are you?

"I asked first. And besides, it wasn't all my idea."

"That's bull! You said you wanted a boy!"

"IT WAS YOUR FAULTY CHROMOSOME THAT KEPT MAY FROM BEING A HIGHLY INTELLIGENT AND SOPHISTICATED BOY! NOT MINE!"

"THE DOCTOR OFFERED TO MAKE HER BOY, BUT NO! YOU SAID-"

"I DON'T BELIEVE IN SEX CHANGE! BESIDES, THE DOCTOR EVEN SAID IT WOULD'VE BEEN LESS EXPENSIVE TO DIG A HOLE THAN BUILD A POLE! WE SAVED MONEY!"

"SAVED MONEY TO DO WHAT? DRESS HER IN DRAG?"

"THAT OUTFIT WAS FOR BOTH BOYS AND GIRLS!"

"IT WAS A SHIRT THAT SAID 'MY MOMMY'S GOT THE GOODS'!"

"IT'S TRUE AND YOU KNOW IT!"

The author decided to end this argument by giving both parents a helping of 2000 volts.

And that, my dear friends, was a typical morning in the Wilson family.

The Companions of Levon Wilson

Approximately thirty miles away, the Jump City Box Company sat upon the top of a hill. It was one of those typical scenes: a large evil-looking building lording over the fearing little citizens below with constant lightning and gray storm clouds in the background, providing a nice, omnipotent feeling of utter doom.

It didn't increase the tourist rate, but it made the grass nice and green.

As we speak, Levon Wilson made his way up the long cement driveway; a usual route for everyone with some connection to the company. As the windshield wipers of his Jaguar rocked left and right, Levon couldn't help but notice how the rain seemed to be letting up. It would've been unusual… it never stopped raining at the Jump City Box Company. That's why they never had tourists and the grass was so green.

I mean… there was lime green, and there was forest green, and there was baby poop green, but this was, like… green.

Levon reached the top of the hill in a brief minute, now sixty feet above sea level. It was a rather large hill… but I think I've gotten in too much detail of the rise itself. We're now going to focus our attention to Levon, who was supposed to be the main character of this chapter, but kind of lost the spotlight a long time ago.

As Levon stepped out of his car in his typical business apparel (a collared shirt, slacks, and fancy shoes to match), he quickly opened an umbrella and stepped outside, locking his car in the process. He briskly marched up the path, ready to start the new day at work.

Another day, another three-week cruise to Europe for the family!

Levon stepped inside to be immediately greeted by the elevator. He pressed the "up" button and waited. The doors soon opened to reveal a short balding man who seemed to be quite anxious.

"Hello Levon," said the man as Levon stepped in.

"Hello Brad," responded Levon as he stood next to the man. "Feeling OK?"

This man with Levon was none other than Brad Elliot, Levon's coworker and head of the labeling center. It was his sworn duty to govern the worker in his department so that boxes wouldn't be stamped with the wrong labels. It was a big job, and someone had to do it. At first, that someone wasn't Brad, but that man died, and Brad took the position reluctantly. No one wanted his job. Not even Brad.

Brad wasn't what you would call the "happy-go-lucky" fellow. Though he could occasionally be "one of the guys" when he was around Levon or a few of his other buddies, he was a man of hard times and troubles. Just in the last couple of months he experienced identity theft, bankruptcy, and losing to a complete n00b on Jeopardy.

But life went on, and it was good… for the most part.

"Say, Levon," said Brad as the elevator reached the fifth floor. "Did you drop off those forms to Mr. Herbert?"

Mr. Herbert was the boss of Levon and Brad, having a reputation of being one of the fattest bastards a person could ever know.

"I did that last week," responded Levon as the elevator stopped on the seventh floor to let a woman in. "And besides, they were forms I didn't have to turn in. They were only letters of recommendation for Meredith."

"Meredith… Meredith…? …Oh! She's that newbie, right?"

"Yeah. My new secretary."

"How is Meredith?"

"The same. I was invited to her Sweet 16 last week, but I didn't have the time to go. Too busy."

"And too…"

"Disgusted, yeah."

The elevator stopped on the ninth floor, and the woman with the two men (and Brad himself) got off.

"See you later," said Brad. Levon merely waved and waited for the doors to close.

…They did, and he arrived on the tenth floor, the floor of his office.

He was greeted with the usual smell and sound: coffee brewing and a typewriter punching. It was a very small room… there wasn't much in there. Right in front of him was a circular desk, and to his right was the coffee machine that made his morning cup everyday. All emptiness aside, it was a rather cheery place.

In fact, inside the circular desk was one of the sources of cheeriness: his secretary, Meredith. She was a rather young girl, as he had mentioned to Brad earlier. She had just turned sixteen and had come to the Jump City Box Company to gain a part-time job as a secretary for experience and college credit. She had brown hair with eyes to match and was, what seemed to be, the average height of a girl her age: about five and a half feet.

"Hello Mere," said Levon as he stepped out of the elevator and made his way around the circular desk. Meredith picked her head up and smiled.

"Hello Mr. Wilson."

"Any messages for me?"

"Two." Meredith reached for two pieces of note paper and held one in each hand. "One call from Mr. Herbert… Says he has to have lunch with you today."

"And the other?"

"That's from Mrs. Wilson."

"What does she want?"

Meredith cleared her voice and read from the paper. "Don't bother coming home, you jackass! I'll just sit here and cry while you stop by the divorce counselor this evening!"

Meredith put the notes in a trashcan at her feet and began to type on her typewriter, a look of seriousness on her face.

Levon recognized this look and rolled his eyes. "We're not splitting up, Mere."

Meredith stopped typing and looked up at her boss. "Oh?"

"Leroy died again this afternoon and we had a little…"

"Say no more!" Meredith regained her grin. "All is forgiven!"

Levon nodded his head and walked away. It was time to get to work.

His office wasn't too far from Meredith's desk. All he had to do was walk three paces to the north to reach a hall, enter that hall, and then walk ten more paces to reach his office's door. He didn't understand why he was given the only office in this particular hall, but he certainly didn't mind it. It gave him a nice sense of solitude.

Upon the door were the words "Levon Wilson, Executive" in large gold letters. He opened the door to be greeted by the familiar smell of green plants, which were stationed in pots suspended by chains from the ceiling. This unusual arrangement gave the room a nice and brisk smell… and it made it look like a greenhouse. People that entered his room suddenly felt like they had stepped outside into a mystical land: a land that was once covered in snow for decades, ruled by an ugly female dictator, and…

…Oh… I'm changing settings. Whoops.

Anyway, Levon sat in his swivel chair behind his large and fancy oak desk and grabbed his telephone. He was the only one in the building to have an avocado green telephone still… but he certainly didn't mind. Besides, it matched the rest of the room.

He put the receiver up to his cheek and dialed a number. A brief moment of silence followed, and then Levon began to speak.

"Mr. Herbert? It's Wilson. …Yes, I got the message. …No, I didn't forget to turn in those forms. …Yes, Mr. Herbert, I realize that without me there wouldn't be anyone to run the folding center. But Mr. Herbert, folding cardboard into boxes isn't an easy job. It's an art. You have to… You have to follow step-by-step directions, Sir!"

Levon listened to his boss's response and nodded his head. "Yes sir, I'll have lunch with you this afternoon. Where and when? …Ten o'clock this morning? Gee, Mr. Herbert, I don't think I can. …Because, sir, if they had it at ten o'clock in the morning they wouldn't call it a lunch meeting. They would call it a brunch meeting."

Levon grinned and began to chuckle lightly at his goofy joke, then stopped. "Yes, I know I'm not funny. …No, I won't pull any crap like that again. …You what? …Oh… you're moving it to 12:30. That'll be fine, Mr. Herbert. Yes, I'll see you at the McDonalds at 12:30. Goodbye, Mr. Herbert."

Jump City's Mary Richards

Down a very short hall and to the right, Meredith sat inside her circular desk and continued to type on her typewriter. Her job wasn't the easiest in the world, but someone had to do it. To have to put up with whiney people that knew how to punch buttons on a phone could drive any inexperienced person up the wall, but not Meredith. Besides, her boss said she did a great job, and her coffee was the best he had ever tasted.

Of course, she didn't know what made it so great. All she did was scoop the coffee out of the tin, put it inside the machine, add some water, place the pot under the spout, and press a button. She clearly remembered, though, when she was running late one morning. Her car had a flat tire, and somebody had to make the coffee in her place. The result was a catastrophic explosion, yet to this day, no one had been able to figure out how in the hell it happened.

However, as a result, Meredith was declared the official coffee maker.

Besides answering phones and arranging meetings, Meredith also had the job of giving people the key to the bathroom whenever they asked. This wasn't an easy task, for both keys looked exactly the same. One time she gave Mr. Carlton the key to the lady's restroom. Poor Mr. Carlton, not being the brightest man in the building, entered the lady's restroom to be greeted by Ms. Hartley, who had just finished her business and was in the middle of standing up. As a result, several lawsuits followed, and the idea of writing "M" and "W" on the appropriate keys was put into action.

All trouble aside, Meredith was relatively happy in her work. As a result, she was relatively cheerful and constantly laughing at the silliest things, which gave her the persona of being one of those giddy little schoolgirls that was in the cheerleading squad. But she wasn't, for she could hardly do a handstand.

But life went on, and she continued to stay happy. As we speak, she was currently humming and lightly head banging on the job. Pretty soon, she burst out singing.

"LIKE A VIRGIN! TOUCHED FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME!"

She was soon distracted, however, when she heard the elevator doors open behind her. A tall boy with shaggy blond hair stepped out of the compartment, carrying an assortment of parcels and letters.

This was Joey was a graduate from Jump City High and one of those kids that everybody seemed to love. Joey worked as the mail boy in the Jump City Box Company, spending a couple of hours delivering mail and packages to the random workers in the building. Though he never seemed to notice, Meredith had a sort of… "interest" in the boy.

This, however, would classify Joey to be one of those clueless people. Despite the many desperate come-ons the part-time secretary would perform, he never seemed to get the hint that there might have been something stronger than just a friendship between the two. But Meredith never gave up; she wanted that boy to be her own. Purr.

"Hey Joey," shyly greeted the secretary as she turned to face him.

"Hi Mere," responded Joey as he met her at her desk. "Here's some stuff for Mr. Wilson and some stuff for Ms. Hartley. Should I put them-"

"Oh, no, I'll take them," responded Meredith as she grabbed the items from the boy's hands. She dropped them in front of her without much consideration and searched for a topic to talk about.

"You want some coffee? I just made some about five minutes ago."

"Maybe I will have a cup."

Meredith clapped her hands in delight as she got up and exited her desk through the small gap in the back. As she made her way over to the machine, she searched throughout her head for some way to start up a conversation.

"Have you seen any good movies lately?"

"Nope. You?"

"Nada. But they just opened that new theater down on the corner of Willow Brook Street. It's supposed to be really great… People come around pushing carts with food so you don't have to get up during the movie to get something."

"Oh… Do they bring toilets, too?"

Meredith evidently found this funny, for she soon began to laugh hysterically. Joey, thinking that his crack wasn't that great, found this odd.

After a hearty ten seconds of laughing, Meredith ended with a brief snort and held out a steaming cup of Joe for… Joey… Ha.

"Thanks," said Joey as he took the cup. "I guess I'll be leaving now."

Meredith frowned. "You don't want to stay?"

"Nah. I've got work I want to do."

Before Meredith could respond, she noticed her boss, Levon Wilson, briskly walk by. Noticing her chance, Meredith stopped him by shouting his name.

"Yes Mere?" he asked, turning around and waiting for a message.

"Joey just said the most hysterical thing a while ago!"

Joey's eyes opened in shock, not exactly wanting to be the one that had a reputation of cracking jokes around the building.

"Really, Joey?" asked Levon as he crossed his arms and smiled. "You don't seem like the kind that goes around spilling funny stuff…"

"It really wasn't that great, Mr. Wilson," responded the boy.

"Sure it was!" Meredith beamed at Joey and then turned around to face her boss once again. "I was sitting here, telling Joey about a new theater that opened up and how they had people pushing carts around with food so you didn't have to get up during the movie to get something, and then Joey said…" Meredith turned to Joey and gestured for him to continue.

"Mere, come on…"

"No, really! I told him about how people wouldn't have to get up during the movie, and Joey said…"

Joey hesitated. "Do they bring toilets, too?"

Meredith once again began to laugh while her boss stood behind her, not exactly understanding what was so funny. Meredith turned to her boss and saw his look. Her smile vanished, and she soon turned around and faced the boy. "That's not funny," she said, returning to her desk with a scowl on her face.

Levon smirked as he headed towards the elevator. "I've got to meet with Mr. Herbert for lunch now," he said. "If anyone calls, you know what to do."

"Yes sir, Mr. Wilson," responded Meredith as she sat down in her chair.

The elevator came and left, and the two were once again by themselves.

"I guess I better get back to the mailroom now," said Joey as he headed towards the elevator himself.

"Do you have to?" asked Meredith as she turned to her interest. "I thought this was your last stop of the day."

"No, I… usually find something to do."

Joey pressed the down button on the elevator and waited. The doors opened and he stepped inside. He turned around and met Meredith's eyes.

"Thanks for the coffee," he said, a small smile on his face.

Meredith grinned and waved.

The elevator doors closed and separated the two. Meredith sighed and faced forward; another day, another passed opportunity.

As she reached for a deck of cards to play Solitaire for the eighth time that morning, she heard the elevator doors open once again. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a set of thick legs hastily walk by. She knew who they belonged to right off the bat… She had seen them an infinite number of times.

Mr. Herbert was the kind of guy that could scare the crap out of one of the Hell's Angels. He was thick, mean, and could shout louder than Kurt Cobain. Of course, there really wasn't even a comparison. The point is he shouted loudly.

He headed towards the hall that led to Levon Wilson's office and entered. A brief moment later, Meredith heard a silent curse, and she picked her head up just in time to see the man coming back, his hands clinched tight.

"Can I help you, Mr. Herbert?" asked Meredith as the man passed her. He stopped dead in his tracks, and for a moment she thought she had made the wrong decision.

"Where's Wilson?" asked Herbert, his voice low.

"Mr. Wilson? He just left to meet you for lunch."

Mr. Herbert growled and clenched his fists tighter. He began to make his way towards the elevator, but stopped and turned around to face the secretary.

"How old are you?" asked Herbert, his voice softer and quieter.

"Sixteen," responded Meredith.

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

"No sir. I'm home schooled. I just work here during the workday, go home, and do my studies in the evening."

Mr. Herbert nodded. "I like you. You're the only secretary that's had the guts to actually be able to talk to me without a single hint of fear in her voice."

Though she knew she should've been pleased, Meredith felt disinterested. "Thank you, sir."

"None of that 'sir' crap. Call me Wes."

Meredith's eyes shot wide open, for she suddenly gained interest. "…Wes?"

"That's what I said. …Do you have a problem with it?"

Meredith recoiled and lost her shock. "No! No sir… Wes."

"Good." Wes continued his conversation. "How long have you been working for Wilson?"

"About five months now."

"How much does he pay you?"

"One-hundred dollars a week."

"If you work for me I'll triple it."

Meredith was now utterly confused. "Excuse me?"

"I'll triple it if you leave Wilson and replace my secretary."

"Sir… Wes… I couldn't do that."

"Oh?" Meredith leaned back in her chair at this. It was always a bad idea to disagree with Wes. "And why not?"

"I enjoy working for Mr. Wilson very much… and he depends on me. I couldn't leave him."

"I'll double the triple."

"What?"

"I'll give you six-hundred a week."

"I'm sorry, Wes, but the answer's 'no'."

"I'll give you a thousand."

Meredith couldn't believe what was going on. One-thousand dollars a week? She could practically buy Joey for herself with that kind of money!

"…I'm sorry, but I won't leave Mr. Wilson."

"Fine. …But I'm going to tell Wilson to give you that much anyway. A girl like you deserves a good salary."

Meredith nodded slowly. "Thank you, Mr. Herbert."

Wes's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows scrunched together.

"…Wes…"

The head of the company nodded his head. "Good… Good…" He then turned and continued to make his way to the elevator. Open. Close. The boss was gone.

Meredith sat in her chair, processing the events through her head. She then grabbed her pen and steno pad and planned a shopping spree.

End Chapter

I didn't expect the chapter to turn out the way it did. It should've taken a different direction relatively near the beginning… but it didn't. I'll have to continue on this story with another chapter, if not more.

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to review. Yes…