It was Monday and I was back to work, all I could think about was going home and inflating. Some time, during lunch, I sat at my desk, and decided I needed to call my discovery something. Later that day, while getting ready to go home, I was stopped by security. I was escorted to the presidents’ office. He was an older gentleman with gray hair, brown eyes, tired face and a course voice from all the cigar smoking in his years. They security guard escorted me to the chair and I sat down. Hans, he began, so did everyone else, no one like to say my full name.
