Wally Wallerson Jr III (oddly enough)., idly tapped his office desk with his fingers, as he half-heartedly watched the surveillance cameras in the women's changing room.
Wally's parents had once told him that he'd been destined for great things. At the time, he'd been inclined to agree. Though lately, he'd had his doubts.
He wasn't sure if it was because the changing rooms were empty, or because he felt he was wasting his life away, but his security officer's report of a naked, bleeding man screaming about tinfoil and aliens, had been just the sort of thing he'd been hoping for.
"Sir?" The security officer repeated.
"Yes, I heard you. Thank you. I'm coming down."
"Do you think we should call the police?" The security officer verbally nudged.
"Do you think we should call the police?" The security officer verbally nudged.
"Hm? No. No, that's fine. I'm coming down." Wally replied, shuffling his way to the elevator.
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