They gave me a cardboard box — one of those thick ones that held printer paper — and Rick from security walked me back to my office. I had known it was coming so I didn’t give him a hard time, which I think he appreciated because he gave me extra time to get my stuff together. While we were riding the elevator down to the lobby we made small talk about the Patriots. Nice guy.
So I’m leaving him out of the curse. His blood won’t boil and his skin won’t blacken to ash. But just him: fuck those other assholes.