mister blue had reached the highest echelon of success through his grit, determination, and hard work.
but number 5’s xenophobia was still an obstacle to be hurdled.
miss black kept her mouth closed on the sensitive subject.
william wilson was secretly an unrepentant xenophobe himself.
it was all beeswax to lady violet.
the momentum had shifted, number 33 mused.
nobody said a word when 713-5 strode into the board room.
it was a less than utopian scene.
utopian indeed, ignatius sunset chuckled grimly to himself.
maria wang thought it was all wallpaper.
and that the board room was overpopulated.
the echelons were not as clearly delineated as they used to be.
the old guard kept their own counsel.
so did the old clown, down in the boiler room.
the clown had done yeoman service through the decades.
713-5’s vision of the future had never rung quite true.
but the proles. led by 830-7, loved him, or so it seemed.
the walls looked down and were silent.
but it seemed to karl marx that a significant milestone had been reached.
the old guard seemed to agree.
their opprobrium was palpable.
ahmed ying had lost his momentum.
uncle ike hobo’s hold on his place on the ladder trembled in the balance.
gentlemen, beware the old guard!
today we have reached peak, 713-5 growled, breaking the silence,
outside the window overlooking the immaculatately tended lawn, a bee buzzed.
counselors, beware the old guard!
