Macaroni Cheese

I sat in the soft, supple black leather chair, its cushions conforming to my body, behind the large, polished mahogany table, its rich wood grain gleaming in the light. The table held a sleek, silver computer, a small, organized stack of files with colorful tabs, and a few crisp, white papers with neatly printed headings, all arranged with precision and care.

I slowly leaned back in the chair, the soft creak of the leather accompanying my deliberate movement, and folded my hands over my chest, my fingers intertwining in a calm yet assertive gesture. My eyes narrowed slightly as I fixed a piercing gaze on the two figures standing before me, my eyebrows arching upward in a silent rebuke. My face set in a stern expression, I gave them a pointed, disapproving look, my lips compressing into a thin line, conveying a sense of quiet disappointment and subtle scolding.

I let out a deep sigh, my voice laced with a monotone boredom, as I asked, "What happened this time?" My words dripped with a