You'll be a lot happier focusing on future products."
He let out a huge, exasperated sigh. "For Chrissake, Peter, we
love you."
Peter slowly rose to his feet. Matthew was rounding the table,
coming toward him.
"And if I don't agree to all this?" Peter said to Hank.
"I'm afraid it's the only option you've got."
Peter could think of a few others. For example, he thought with
morbid pleasure, he could pummel Matthew with punches, that was
one option, or he could choke him until he turned red, then blue,
then black and begged for his life while everyone sat there as
they had through the whole meeting, staring at their fucking
yellow pads, just dying to lift their pens, Wallaby logo pens,
and begin calculating what their stock options would be worth
after today's news got out.
And wasn't that what it all came down to in the end, he asked
himself. Wasn't that what he'd used to lure each and every one of
them there? The bottom line. Didn't they understand that for him,
it wasn't the money. His life's happiness was the bottom line.
And he had just lost it. With this thought a deep dread coursed
through his chest. He thought of last night, and he felt a
shudder, as though an ice-cold fear had poked its finger into his
rectum. He felt as if he were about to defecate, right there for
all of them to witness, his grand exit.
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