More, more, more...

[Smythe, Boyd T {FLNA}]

A figure stands alone in the dark, silent office, surrounded by chocolate
and empty soda cans. His eyes dart swiftly through the gloom, then he
suddenly begins *dancing*. First, it's the electric slide, then the hustle,
then an apparent solo square dance. The only sound is the rustling of his
clothes as he works up a sweat doing his best Napoleon Dynamite impression.

Suddenly, he freezes in the beam of a flashlight.

"Having fun, are we?" says Carolyn mirthlessly.

"Um, s-s-sorry, m-m-mistress of the Catalogue. Just finished and
inexplicably got this Andrea True Connection song stuck in my head."

"And what song is that, pray tell?"

More, more, more!

Boyd