Coyote sits behind his desk, pen twirling in his fingers, bored and anxiously waiting for his assistant to come through the doors. He raises his head and stares emptily at the curving walls, thinking of the time he first stepped into this room. Then it was his father sitting behind this desk. Then men and women were always running in and out of this office, mostly unasked for. "Ha!" He showed his father! Everyone knows not to bother him with the inane details and repetetive memorandums! No one dares to come see him unsummoned! He lays the pen back down upon his desk and rises from his chair. He walks around his office, gently pacing the circumference of the bald eagle painted on the floor, in the center of the room, fingers lightly brushing against the walls. He smiles inwardly and laughs to himself as he glories in his ill gotten power, soon the very walls are shaking with his laughter. Oh, he showed them all! They all thought him a failure, but here he is in the very heart, the very soul of this land, ruling over them all! Here he is, the brain of this country thinking and controlling every aspect of life between the two oceans. He raises his hand and combs back his hair, brushing it gently with his fingers, not noticing the strands of thread trailing from his arm, leading to the shadows, where an unknown, unnamed, and unseen puppetmaster toggles the threads making him dance to his own tune. Coyote laughs once more.