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Going Down by The Sympathetic Devil

"What floor, Miss?" Jimmy asked, although it was obvious. Any conservatively dressed woman looking that angry could only be headed one place.

"32nd," she said tersely, "Bimbotech."

"Right away, Miss," said Jimmy pushing the appropriate button and discretely checking out his passenger: A bit on the skinny side with short brown hair. She was dressed in a business suit and carrying a briefcase.

"You don't work for them, do you?" she asked.

"No, Ma'am. I work for the building," he answered, "All the businesses between the 3rd floor and the penthouse lease."

"Do you know exactly what it is they do up there?" she asked.

"Well, near as I can tell, they're involved in some kind of plastic surgery or sumpin' like that. I don't get paid to ask questions."

"Hmmph!" she declared, Well I sure as hell have some questions. The first of which is who the hell put these damn fliers on the bulletin ...

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