The Almost-Cought Game
The Prestige Creative Agency office buzzed with its usual Monday madness. Phones rang incessantly, keyboards clacked in a frantic rhythm, and the coffee machine worked overtime. Fara sat in her glass-walled office, buried under a mountain of client proposals and campaign drafts, her pristine desk now a chaotic battlefield.
"Bonita!" Fara called out, her voice carrying just the right mix of authority and desperation.
Bonita, her ever-efficient assistant, appeared in the doorway with a tablet in hand. "Yes, boss?"
"Please tell me the deadlines on these campaigns haven't magically moved up," Fara groaned, gesturing to the folders scattered around her.
Bonita gave her a sympathetic smile. "Good news., they haven't. Bad news, the global client meeting is in an hour, and you still need to approve the final pitch deck."
Fara sighed dramatically, leaning back in her chair. "Of course it is. Alright, bring it in. Let's knock this out."