Jason’s death wasn’t discovered until the following Monday due to the nature of his “regimen” that everyone had now accepted.

He was brilliant in analyzing any problem put before him, but he put off everything until the last minute to resolve outstanding tasks over the weekend, in the wee hours of the morning, the only time he could think. Answers often came to him in the middle of playing video games.

He showed up daily in a near catatonic state, in the same clothes (he had claimed he had many copies of the same shirt, but recognizable stains would give him away) seeming to do little, producing nothing with his name on it, but when the boss dropped of a report to be “re-worked,” he’d blankly ingest it. Then, in one of his 1am gaming sessions, the perfect rhetorical angle or spin came to light, he’d pause the game, scribble his approach in the margins, and drop it on her desk later in the morning.

On this particular Monday he had not changed his shirt. No reports were returned. He smelled worse than usual.