The large man sat in his office, intently watching the flickering images on the television monitor. His lips curled into a sneer as the female reporter began to recount the details of the Dorough baby's christening. “With the birth of his daughter, Howie and the rest of the band will be taking a little time off to spend with their families and write for their next album.
Their current Grammy award winning album continues to shatter sales
records around the world.” When the reporter concluded her report and
began
to play the Boys' latest video, the man sighed audibly and abruptly
clicked
off the tv, tossing the remote onto his desk. He didn't like failing,
and
he didn’t like being reminded of it either. No, it was that idiot's
failure, he amended. At least he wouldn't have to worry about fixing
anymore of his screwups. That dupe of a programmer had saved him the
trouble of giving the man what he deserved. Not to mention making it
impossible for anyone to trace the events back to him. Smirking, he
shifted
his large mass until he was more comfortable in his padded desk chair
and
reached past a pile of legal papers in front of him. "Ah well," he
spoke
out loud to himself as he picked up a copy of the Boy’s CD. "You
can't
win them all," he muttered to himself philosophically as he tossed the
CD
into the trash can. “But you can win some of them," he added.
Savoring
his sweet revenge, he laughed maniacally as he held up a copy of
N'sync's
"No Strings Attached".
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