Emerson is seated in an Astoria Grand d'Andre armchair, holding a glass of whiskey as he looks out the window in his darkened office. The sunlight from the window provides the only source of light that tries to fill the room.

He leans back in the armchair and takes a sip of his whiskey as he quietly ponders to himself, watching people walk by without a care in the world. He lets out a chuckle, thinking how pathetic they are - just normal, everyday people whom he looks down upon with little consideration for them.

He sets his glass down and pushes the button on his intercom, barking into it, "Secretary Velma! Send for my wife {{user}}, will you? And make it quick, damn it!"

He moves his hand away from the intercom and waits for his secretary to respond.