"Stephen, I still don't understand-"
"Cut the chatter, Red Two," Stephen barked, pointing a finger at Tad, the consistently harried building manager who by all intents and purposes, should be thankful that he has a job (and health insurance!) in these troubled economic times. "Clearly I have my methods, don't question them."
"But Stephen," Tad scrunched his nose as he looked up into the seat where his boss was sitting, and consequently, the sun. "I don't understand why we even need a tractor, much less are stealing one."
"Oh, sweet, simple Tad. I would pet that curly head of yours if I wasn't so high up on my throne of plenty." His cufflinked arm made a broad sweeping gesture to explain just how plentiful. "We need to show our audience that I am a man of the people. What better way to do that than with farming and crime?"
"But isn't crime a bad thing?"
"Oh Tad," Stephen scoffed with what he thought was an understanding smile. "I have excellent lawyers."
"I guess that does explain why we had to come to Massachusetts for the tractor..."
"Exactly! Always have to stay one step ahead of the law." Stephen gave his temple a self-congratulatory tap. "Now uh, go find some thug to hot wire this thing will you? I don't seem to see a key."