There is no prologue because you never know where the story begins.

Tuesday, November 2.

Jimmy Lear walked through the office to the coffee pot.  "Where is everyone?" he called.

Twist peeked out from behind his partition.  "Bit of a party last night.   The guys are nursing massive hangovers this morning."

"Who gets hammered on a Monday night?  Month-end is Black Friday."

"We all know Christmas is coming."

"Who said anything about Christmas?  Two people in the office because everyone is hungover."

"They'll make up for it tomorrow."

"Seriously?  I should fire them all."

"Your dad would never allow it."

"Fuck."  Jimmy poured the coffee and added milk.  "Why are you here, then?"

"Wasn't invited to the party."  Twist rubbed his nose and pulled his head back into his cubicle.

"I thought you guys always party together."

"Not last night."

Jimmy took a sip.  The coffee was putrid.  He took another.  "OK.  So what gives?  Why aren't you in bed with Mrs. Twist this morning pleading for mercy like the rest of the crew?"

"Not my crew."  It was now clear to Jimmy that he was drinking yesterday's coffee.  He took another swig.  "They're your dad's crew."

Jimmy walked to Twist's desk.  There were at least ten mounds of letters in different stacks laid out over the desk and onto the floor.  Various items from around the office were paperweights.  A shoe.  A silver picture frame.  A crystal bowl.  "I'd fire them all if I could."