Altermentality

The head honcho of Hivory Towers, the insect known only as Capital B, pressed his gloved fingers to his face, rubbing the space between his disparately bloodshot eyes. In his other hand he held a distressing report on the productivity (or lack thereof) of his newest acquisition, the former Quackcorp. Some kind of illness was running through the employees, rendering them totally - instead of just mostly - useless. It had been a long day. With a sigh he set the paper down and lifted his hexagonal mug to his crooked teeth. It was his fourth cup of coffee that day - or was it his fifth? He needed to check if the office manager had changed brands without his permission. He could swear it was less bitter than it used to be, and he did like it bitter. The CEO tried to distract himself with something more pleasant while waiting for his next conference call. Initial tests of the Noveliser 64 were proving successful - while the ultimate goal of a total monopoly on all literature was still a