[center][h2][b]An Anonymous Introduction[/b][/h2][/center]

[i]Like, can't believe she would do that to me, y'know?

$2,300 in printer ink, $600 in paper, $145 in paperclips-

How about a number two with mustard, no onions, fries and a Dr. Pepper. If you put onions on that thing, I swear I'll-

Fucking bitch don't know your place! I'll carve you like Thanksgiving turkey!

Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh god yeeeeeeeEEEEEESSSSSS!

Sweep the floor sweep the floor sweep the floor...

You heard him, Anonymous. Get up here.[/i]

So many interesting conversations. So many sounds flooding in. The heartbeats, the breathing, the snapping, the clapping and the walking. Singing, dancing, sneezing, ringing, texting, whistling, everything everything EVERYTHING! So much going on all at once, it would be maddening if his power hadn't allowed him to understand and perceive them all distinctly and separately. But one called his attention as priority above the others. 

"I don't believe I will," Anonymous spoke. He sat in the front lobby of the Alverton Building, wearing his mask in public. It was fine, nothing he needed to worry about. The public, the PRT, nobody knew about his existence. Not unless they were already a client. To anybody else Anonymous would be exactly that: a weird anonymous stranger wearing a mask. 

"There is no benefit to my physical presence, Mr. Puppet." His words would be heard clear as day, despite the distance and barriers, but only by Hugo Maxwell. None of the others in the area could even hope to take notice of the young adult speaking in a pleasant business tone. "You are aware that I can gather all I need from here, just as we can hold this conversation."

Anonymous produced a small carving knife from his pocket, along with a small block of wood, and began widdling. "I understand your boss is not entirely pleasant, but do you think it would be possible to show a little more respect? 'Escort' rather than 'babysit' for instance? Just because I'm a part time independent your organization contracts does not mean I am not deserving of the basic pleasantries."

[i]-just got to level 24! Oh yeah!

-schedule my flight to Cambodia on the 24th?

I can't believe the toilet backed up again! Mother fucker![/i]

"Ah, it seems that Michael Lord on floor 9 is currently using company resources to play an online video game. You can have that one for free, Mr. Puppet."