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Me: ...and that's Level 39 reached in Pokémon Go, on Thursday; it may not be much, but I'll take all the distractions I can right now. Speaking of which, how's Mr. Ham? Mr. Robo: Uh, he changed the locks. A habit of his, by the way. Me: It's a bit irresponsible of him, don't you think? I'm supposed to be a passive partner in this enterprise of his, and here I am, sitting in for customer meetings in his stead. *doorbell rings* That must be Mr. Cat. *Mr. Ham flings door open and explodes out of his office* Mr. Ham: Whaaat?! Me: He had an appointment, you know. We've done our background checks. He qualifies as an accredited investor. And very comfortably, if I may add. Mr. Ham: That's not the point! I told Mr. Robo to direct all queries about these... these... felines to me for immediate rejection! Mr. Robo: Uh, I slid the forms under the door, since your office was, like, locked, remember? And, I quote Article 27 of Section C.3 of our bylaws, "approval by default automatically applies if no objection is tendered at the executive level, within a period of seven (7) days." Me: So, was this what the research on cats and dogs was all about? Terribly speciest of you, I say. Mr. Ham: Say what you want, but my granduncle Bob was living in a neighbourhood filled with... that kind, and one fine day, after he heard that he had become a father for the twenty-seventh time, he walked out of the back for a smoke, and never came back! They done got him good, they did! *Me exchanging look with Mr. Robo* Mr. Robo: Erm, I don't think that's what happened, because he just knocked me up for a loan last month, as usual... Mr. Ham: *wagging paw* Now don't you be a species traitor an' start takin' their side. Dogs, on the other hand - dogs, I like. Why, they're always so friendly and trusting, and all they want for security assurance is to dig the hole by themselves, and throw their assets into it; even better, they tend to understand if some of it goes missing, because, things happen with holes, you can't explain that! Me: But, prematurely limiting your client pool may not be a wise choice for a trading firm that's still establishi... never mind, your latest customer's here. Mr. Ham: Not my customer. Me: I apologize on behalf of my colleague, Mr. Cat. He can get kind of ornery when he's been awake for entirely too long. Let me get you acquainted. This is... Mr. Ham: *frostily* I'll do it myself. The Hon H.L. Ham, founding managing director and CEO of this illustrious firm, that so happens to bears his name. Mr. Robo: *rather more chippy* Hi, and I'm Mr. Robo, coffee boy (full time), Head of Quantitative Research (acting), junior programmatic trader (intern), strategic analyst (on probation), second secretary to Mr. Ham, and reserve janitor (every second Tuesday, when Ms. Wong needs to stay home to look after her grandkids). You might say I wear many hats, but in fact I don't, because Mr. Ham says only he's allowed to wear his bowler hat "to distinguish himself from the common riff-raff", but I don't actually mind 'cause it's not my style, and... Me: ...er, I think that's enough there. Mr. Cat: Delighted to meet you, Mr. Robo. Love meeting a fellow go-getter myself. I sense the beginning of a very fruitful association. Mr. Ham: Not if I have anything to say about that. Mr. Cat: Forgive me, I had to rush all the way from the airport, haven't had the time to grab a bite. I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I... *points vaguely to the side* Mr. Ham: *edging away* I am not "the refreshments". Mr. Cat: Talking canapés! My word, I've heard that there've been major strides made in artificial intelligence recently, but I had absolutely no idea that the applications went that far! Still, the voice is kinda annoying... Me: Well, we might not all have gotten off on the right footing, but I hope that we can resolve these issues as we move along. And, Mr. Cat, while Mr. Ham has his... lesser moments, he remains a vital - well, kind of, if you squint real hard - member of the H.L. Ham team, and as such, we would appreciate if you desist with the licking, and release him forthwith. Mr. Ham: *struggling* You heard the human! Me: And, uh, kindly put the salt and pepper shakers back too. Mr. Cat: Sure thing. By the way, just to establish my bona fides, please... *pushes sheet of paper across the tabletop* Me: *looking at numbers* Hmm. Well. To be totally honest, we don't usually take on positions of this size, sir. Not that we wouldn't be willing to, but there may be complications... Mr. Cat: *waving free paw dismissively* Pah, don't sweat the details. And, that's not the stake. That's the fee. Me: Fried or broiled, sir? Mr. Ham: WHAT? Mr. Robo, say something! Mr. Robo: Me? Oh. *thinks* An excellent choice if I may say so, Mr. Cat, but personally I would recommend traditional steaming. It's a lot healthier, you know. There's this little hole-in-a-wall dive a few blocks over, they have this wonderful secret garnish that seriously brings out the flavour, and I'm sure they'd be willing to plan a custom... Mr. Ham: WHAT THE F**K ARE YOU SAYING?! Mr. Robo: Rule Number One, Customer Is Always Right. See, it's on the quick reference card. *waves card* You made me repeat it fifty times every morning, and there's a penalty if I ever forgot to follow the instructions... Me: Right. Fine, fine, I think Mr. Ham's getting a little distressed. Jokes aside... Mr. Cat: *hopefully* Just a little nibble? I was about to recommend this firm to a few other well-heeled acquaintances too, it's between you and Lehham Brothers, and... Me: Then again, if you think about it, if you pick the right spot on the butt, it'll probably grow back someday anyway. Mr. Ham: THIS IS NOT A NEGOTIATION! Mr. Robo: Which reminds me, I was reading some medical journal recently, and they had this paper on a breakthrough with buttock reconstructive techniques and transplants... Mr. Ham: AND YOU ARE NOT HELPING! Me: How about we take a break? Wouldn't want to enter into such decisions hastily, would we? [To be continued (possibly with reduced personnel)...] Next: Now This Is Getting Ridiculous
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