[Custom; the name “Ryan” was used] So this is your company… or shall I say “was”? You’ve found me in “your” office with my feet propped up and I look as though I’ve already settled in. You don’t quite know what’s happening, but you seem singularly curious about my feet above all else. While I wiggle my toes in your face, I explain that you will have effectively been replaced as CEO and owner of the company you founded so many years ago by the end of our meeting. Others have noticed how your focus and ambition have been lacking recently, ever since I arrived at the office. Naturally, they all see in me what they used to see in you so long ago—only better. So here we are. I’ve had my lawyer draw up a contract, releasing you from all responsibilities and ownership of your empire, as well as naming your successor to inherit the company in perpetuity: me. You’ll sign over everything. The rights to all intellectual property, your team of developers, your full client list, and more. Nevermind the fine print and obscure clauses in this long boring contract. Those tricky details are insignificant when you’re already so otherwise shaken. By me. By my gorgeous, mesmerizing soles and toes. And that’s exactly why I deserve to be in this role. You’re no longer fit to hold power anymore when you’re too easily distracted by wiggling toes. So go ahead and sign. Your precarious future isn’t nearly as imperative as what’s right in front of you.
