You have one of those slick graphite countertops so when you drop your keys in the evening there’s nothing sitting around it minus a tall dark and handsome bottle of red. You never open it. It's for guests to look at and admire. 

Fuck. yes. 

You look in the rearview mirror on the way to the office, not at the cars behind but at your polished teeth. 

You're in right away and the boss calls you to the office, you've been caught embezzling funds. For a yesman this is a big no-no. There's no smugness on your face anymore.  

You're sent to public execution at the next Tokyo convention before a crowd of salarymen.