Lil nodded. "That's a good point, Lisa. The offer we're making to the
telepresence players is probationary -- they don't get to vote until
after we've agreed that the rehab is a success."
Another castmember stood. I recognized him: Dave, a heavyset, self-
important jerk who loved to work the front door, even though he blew his
spiel about half the time. "Lillian," he said, smiling sadly at her, "I
think you're really making a big mistake here. We love the Mansion, all
of us, and so do the guests. It's a piece of history, and we're its
custodians, not its masters. Changing it like this, well. . ." he shook
his head. "It's not good stewardship. If the guests wanted to walk
through a funhouse with guys jumping out of the shadows saying 'booga-
booga,' they'd go to one of the Halloween Houses in their hometowns. The
Mansion's better than that. I can't be a part of this plan."
I wanted to knock the smug grin off his face. I'd delivered essentially
the same polemic a thousand times -- in reference to Debra's work -- and
hearing it from this jerk in reference to _mine_ made me go all hot and
red inside.
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