The man in the suit munched on an apple as he crossed to the other side of the conference room. He made eye contact with a subordinate and said with deadpan seriousness, "We're both going to die. Not just you, but me as well."
With a wave of his hand and a slight flicker of his fingers, the two small knives quivering in the wall trembled. SWISH! SWISH! They flew back into his grasp. "I've taken care of it for you this time," he explained. "Not to help you, but because I'm afraid of dying. I need to mitigate the risk, bring it down to an acceptable level. Considering you've done decent work, this is where it ends."
