(unfinished; post-Boffo plotline)

Jim tilted his chair back at a dangerous angle and cracked his knuckles, still staring at the computer screen. "Hey, Tris, come take a look."

Tristan put down his paintbrush and set aside the little pot of paint, leaving his figurines half painted at the table. "What's up?" He stood behind Jim's chair and tipped it forward, putting all four legs on the ground.

"You know Tyler and Opal Karolus, head of HG Tech?"

"Yeah, they only sign our paychecks and you only gush over them every other day. Don't give me that look, you have a pinup of Opal on your wall." Tristan rested his elbows on Jim's shoulders. "I know stalking them is your hobby, but if this isn't important, could I get back to my hobby?"

Jim swatted at Tristan's head and ducked out from under his friend's elbows. "At least I don't see them every day when I go to work. Why don't you ask the boss for a picture to put in your wallet, Tris? You know- no, never mind. Therapist is Carly's job." He pointed at the screen, tilting backwards again. "Here's a newspaper article from like, thirty, forty years ago. Turn of the century."

Tristan pushed Jim's chair firmly to the ground and scanned the article. "So some rich kid went apeshit and killed his dad's mistress- tell me again why I should care?"

Jim sighed. "This is clearly why I am the brains of this operation. Let me connect some dots for you. Before Tyler and Opal took over, HG Tech was called Karolus Industries. That rich kid is the oldest son of R K Karolus, who was supposed to inherit the company when his dad died. Here, look at this. It's about three years after the first article."

"And the rich guy dies; Tyler took the company 'cuz his brother gave it to him. What's important about this?"

Jim turned around in his chair to look directly at Tristan. "Dude. This was practically forty years ago. Tyler Karolus was eighteen when he inherited- R K died on his birthday, which happened to coincide with his half brother's. Does Tyler look like he's almost sixty? Does Opal? Look at these pictures."

"Jim. The boss' secretary has seven eyes on a good day. Carly's boyfriend has wings and can set you on fire with his mind. Tyler and Opal are just as much a part of our division as they are. Remember when the boss said there were exactly four humans in the division? Us and him. I'm not surprised." Tristan gave the younger boy a noogie.

"Watch the hair, you bastard! Take a closer look at the pictures. Who's that all the way on the right?"

Tristan rested his hands on the back of the chair and looked, then went very, very still.

"D'you think the boss looks like he's sixty-something? Deodat Karolus is seven years older than his brother."

For a few seconds it seemed like Tristan hadn't heard him, but the sound of splintering wood made it rather clear that he had. "Tris? You're buying me a new chair."

"Can I kill him first?" Tristan's voice was vague and distant, almost sleepy. The back of the chair splintered further between his fingers. "That lying bastard."