"She's refusing to let us surrender Sir."

  "Why?" 

  "You want the long, short, or redundant version long-legged mac daddy?" 

  The man much taller than the students put his fingers to his face and massaged pressure points.  "Your daughters picked the handle Sir." 

  "Just tell me when the students get to take the tour." 

  "Copy that." 

  A flurry of clipboard exchanging and comparisons between named groups and scheduling. 

  "How 'bout us?" A diva of pop music asked as she poked a head around a corner.  "Nope, not you guys either.  The Koreans are kicking our asses in your field, your genre." 

  "Where is everyone?" 

  "Right.  None of us public count as anybody." 

  "They're in the Situation Room." 

  "For how long?" 

  "Well, it would've been shorter, but the ceiling caved." 

  "Oh my God.  Did they all survive?" 

  "Like you care." 

  "I'm a seat sniffer." 

  "Nobody else on the planet would admit that." 

  "I can't unsee that." 

  "Here," one man passed his brown bag lunch to a woman in charge of the crossing guard whistle.