[doomey sucks the life out of a pall mall, stuffs the butt into the mess in the triangular, marble ashtray set down stage right on the Cherrywood desktop. he takes a sip from the tumbler of amber, sets the near-empty glass on the desktop. he purses his lips, staring at DePlancher's desk. he taps his fingertips on the desktop, twists his lips. he breathes deep, exhales]
as far as I know we have not been able to find the cat.
[Carol pulls out the chair, noticing the wheels might need some maintenance, and she plops her ass into it, swivels left and right. She grabs the edge of the desk and pulls herself up close. She grabs the topmost capital off the pile that's gathered at the corner of the desk. She spreads it out before her like a deck of cards]
Okay. Got us some capital named The Halloween Party crafted by Edward Turner. Sounds pretty solid.