Inside The Slaughterhouse (AKA A Peek Inside My Mushy Headspace)

Everyone loves a sneak peek, right? A glimpse behind the curtain, a snatch-glance over the fence, a gander in the dressing room? Hmm, maybe that last one's a little much...
But steering back on point, here follows a steaming pile of surgically-extracted goodness (subject to opinion) from my brain directly to yours. Enjoy!

The mahogany-panelled boardroom smelled of whisky and corruption. Even the air tasted rich with the iron tang of blood and money--though which held sway, Abbey couldn't tell. What was as clear as the lingering musk of Cuban cigars, though, was the utter absence of beady-eyed businessmen waiting to greet her. Not one of MassMedia's leadership, not even a token representative. Well, unless you count-- 

"The board of directors will be joining us via video conference shortly," droned Ms Opello, her voice like cold steel. "Please make yourselves comfortable in the interim."

She ushered Abbey and her two watchdogs inside, then swept out of the room.

"Wait!" cried Abbey, biting her tongue when the call came out shrill and desperate. She rushed to the door, but Ms Opello had already disappeared around the bend of the corridor. 

"If this were a real deal," Abbey mumbled, turning around and heading back into the boardroom, "they'd have just cost themselves 10% in asshole fees."