A different place.
WeStSuCkS_9999, one of chairman Hughes' henchmen, sat in his throne. It wasn't particularly comfortable but did give him the sense of entitlement he felt he deserved. He didn't try to be a bad person, just someone in charge of, maybe, a bad regime. The throne was necessary to make those changes. The servants were necessary to make those changes. The beatings were necessary.
He ate his lunch purposefully and singularly. Each element was picked off. He said very little. The final quarter of bread he had torn off was salivated over, then devoured in one shot. As he finished he walked to the window.
"They're marching" he thought "always with the marching"
"Marching for nothing"
A knock came at the door. It was a messenger. All she said was
"Come"
His head dropped and he walked in time to the march. That is all he could do.
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