(lxxxv.)

"M-Mister Aisquith?"

From behind the massive overstuffed executive chair, a voice bellowed, "What?"

"W-well, sir, there's a problem, sir," he stuttered.
"A problem?"
"Yes, sir."
"What hind of problem?"
"Well, sir, it, um, one of the corporations we were supposed to, er, audit, it seems, uh, they've d-declared bankrupty, sir."

The chair whirled around. In the dimly lit office, he could only barely make out the edges of Mister Aisquith's robe.

"Bankruptcy?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"Which corporation?"
"Th-the Omnivion Corporation."

Mister Aisquith shook his head.

"This won't do," he said, slowly. "This won't do at all."