She put on her Oakley sunglasses and checked her iWatch. Before too long, she knew she'd have to leave the comfortable confines of her Scion, look up her access code in LastPass and punch it into the keypad of her Sargent lock, walk through that Andersen door, and use her iPhone to call her Brylcreemed father. "I know," she said, "I'll poor myself a Maker's Mark before I sit down on the Ligne Roset."

Taking her keys by their basic Alden keyring, she rose unsteadily to her Nine West pumps, and with the empty stare of a Bethesda RPG game character, went to meet her HERO Entertainment Marketing scripted doom.