He'd left the financials with Guignol, who had been discreetly showing them around to the rest of the executive committee in closed door, off-site meetings. One of them must have blabbed, though -- or maybe it was a leak at Lester's end. He tasted his lunch and bile as his stomach twisted. It wasn't fair. He had a real chance of making this happen -- and it would be a source of genuine good for all concerned. He got halfway through calling Guignol's number, then put the phone down. He didn't know who to call. He'd put himself in an unwinnable position. As he contemplated the article that Freddy would probably write, he realized that he would almost certainly lose his job over this, too. Maybe end up on the wrong end of a lawsuit. Man, that seemed to be his natural state at Disney. Maybe he was in the wrong job. He groaned and thumped himself on the forehead. All he wanted to do was have good ideas and make them happen. Basically, he wanted to be Lester. Then he knew who he had to call. "Ms Church?" "We're back to that, huh? That's probably not a good sign." "Suzanne then." "Sammy, you sound like you're about to pop a testicle. Spit it out." "Do you think I could get a job with Lester?" "You're not joking, are you?" "Freddy found out about the buyout offer." "Oh." "Yeah." "So I'm gonna be in search of employment. All I ever wanted to do was come up with cool ideas and execute them --" "Shush now. Freddy found out about this, huh? Not surprising. He's got a knack for it. It's just about his only virtue." "Urgh." "However, it's also his greatest failing. I've given this a lot of thought, since my last run in with Rat-Toothed Freddy." "You call him that to his face?" "Not yet. But I look forward to it. Tell you what, give me an hour to talk to some people here, and I'll get back to you." An hour? "An hour?" "He'll keep you squirming for at least that long. He loves to make people squirm. It's good journalism -- shakes loose some new developments." "An hour?" "Have you got a choice?" "An hour, then." # Suzanne didn't knock on Lester's door. Lester would fall into place, once Perry was in. She found him working the ride, Hilda back in the maintenance bay, tweaking some of the robots. His arm was out of the cast, but it was noticeably thinner than his good left arm, weak and pale and flabby. "Hello, Suzanne." He was formal, like he always was these days, and it saddened her, but she pressed on. "Perry, we need to shut down for a while, it's urgent." "Suzanne, this is a busy time, we just can't shut down --"