Hall of Infinite Doors
You start walking back to your dorm while watching your portable TV. A tall white haired gentleman wearing a sharp gray pinstripe suit enters Stacey's office. With him is a short balding man in a blue suit. The short man's tie is undone such that he looks like the comic sidekick compared to the tall man.
As you go up the elevator in your dorm you lose contact. You walk briskly to your room. Bill isn't there, so you turn on the computer and watch it on the monitor. By this time everyone is sitting around Stacey's desk. Tricia is looking especially lucious in a tan one-piece dress. Yum.
The white haired man speaks.
"This is your share," he says, shoving s small packet toward Stacey.
"It's all there?" she asks.
"All there. How'd the meeting go?"
"Well enough," replies Stacey. "We'll have to cut back on last year's hazing binge. But if you can find the benefactors, I can provide the company."
"Good. How about a second sell-off?"
"Done," replies Stacey. "And I'm thinking of having a volunteer program where our ladies can visit and mingle with businessmen in relaxed settings."
"I can make that work," says the gray haired man.
"Can we increase our rates?" asks Stacey.
"Maybe," replies the gray haired man. "We'll see what the market can bear."
"Good," replies Stacey, with an air of confidence. "How are our investments doing?" She looks at the shorter man.
"Very well. Very well. Of course there are some things 'off the books,' but you should get a nice payment at the end of your term. But say--would it be possible to have another assistant this year--a treasurer. I so . . ."
Stacey cuts him off. "Tricia, find someone suitable. Preferably a sophmore."
Tricia nods.
"Well," says the gray haired man, "I really must be going." He stands up, shakes Stacey's and Tricia's hands and walks to the door. The blue suited man stands and tries to give Tricia a hug. She pulls back and offers a hand. The men leave.
As you go up the elevator in your dorm you lose contact. You walk briskly to your room. Bill isn't there, so you turn on the computer and watch it on the monitor. By this time everyone is sitting around Stacey's desk. Tricia is looking especially lucious in a tan one-piece dress. Yum.
The white haired man speaks.
"This is your share," he says, shoving s small packet toward Stacey.
"It's all there?" she asks.
"All there. How'd the meeting go?"
"Well enough," replies Stacey. "We'll have to cut back on last year's hazing binge. But if you can find the benefactors, I can provide the company."
"Good. How about a second sell-off?"
"Done," replies Stacey. "And I'm thinking of having a volunteer program where our ladies can visit and mingle with businessmen in relaxed settings."
"I can make that work," says the gray haired man.
"Can we increase our rates?" asks Stacey.
"Maybe," replies the gray haired man. "We'll see what the market can bear."
"Good," replies Stacey, with an air of confidence. "How are our investments doing?" She looks at the shorter man.
"Very well. Very well. Of course there are some things 'off the books,' but you should get a nice payment at the end of your term. But say--would it be possible to have another assistant this year--a treasurer. I so . . ."
Stacey cuts him off. "Tricia, find someone suitable. Preferably a sophmore."
Tricia nods.
"Well," says the gray haired man, "I really must be going." He stands up, shakes Stacey's and Tricia's hands and walks to the door. The blue suited man stands and tries to give Tricia a hug. She pulls back and offers a hand. The men leave.