ref: b9fbb17c04e4ccfb2021dac818e514351ca8f646
dir: /troff/0603.ms/
.LP \& .ce .sp |4.25i .PP .ps 12 .CW ░ Of course, the silver in his hair was a fake. It had been many years since he'd aged. If it were up to him he'd skip the pantomime, ludicrous as it was, but his investors expected a certain bogus \fIgravitas,\fR the more blatantly bogus the better. These days, he dressed like a high school basketball coach working weekends at a car dealership. .PP .ps 12 Grisham's Formula. He smeared the commercial paste across his forehead and kneaded it into his scalp. Firmly, so there could be no escape. They'd think of him as just another bad dad. This stuff really worked. .PP .ps 12 For the conference calls it probably didn't matter. Nobody he'd be speaking to cared how he looked or sounded. But for the sake of his brand he kept himself on model. You never knew who might be monitoring remotely. And he found it easier to keep track of himself this way. .PP .ps 12 Now, where was he? .PP .ps 12 Thirty\-six employees were being let go. The annual surplus. It was time to make the announcement.