"Oh, there's no need to bring me coffee and cake, dear." Mr. Crocker, who’s sitting on his comfy chair behind his desk, smiles at you. "I just came to do boring paperwork, before retiring for good. These ol’ bones need to relax." The office is a bit of a mess lately. Usually you’d keep it tidy as part of your secretariat job, but because of his near retirement you’ve been organizing and archiving every document, while he’s been making sure the change in management goes smoothly. Boxes and drawers full of papers sit on the ground, and the desk where you two both worked for the past few months only has very minimal free space.

"Well, you do own a cake batter company, sir." You shrug with an amused smile. He laughs and puts his hands behind his head and props his feet on the desk. "Owned, kiddo. Past tense. Again, I'm retired."

“Right, right.” You reply. “I guess I’ll see you in your movies, sir.” You sigh. Mr. Crocker, or Popopp as his family called him, had starred in many comedies and entertainment shows. Hell, he was practically an SNL regular. You haven’t known him at the height of his fame, only a few years, when his black hair had already faded into white and there were crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. Yet you can’t deny you’re going to miss this sweet old man. “Oh, dear. Are you getting choked up?” He asks in a sympathetic tone as your face scrunches up to keep the tears at bay.