the office sits atop the strata-scraper, surrounded by commanding views of cosmopolis. speed arrives via the elevator and remmington breaks into a beaming. smile.
speed realizes that this is the threshold.
they stand before an enlarged black and white photograph of five tycoons, smoking cigars, dressed in turn of the century tycoon finery, their well-fed faces bright with fatuous, self-satisfied smiles.
speed doesn't want to hear any more of this, but, remmington is far from done.
speed hands him the brown paper bag.
remmington sits surrounded by the legal equivalent of knights, bishops and rooks while mr. mushi sits across from him supported by his own retinue. behind them, cannonball taylor blasts through the test course fast enough to coax a low rumble from the sound barrier.
papers are signed. hands are shaken. pictures posed for. the harmony of the corpratocracy complete as--