R. Jackson Stranghway, the name on everyone's lips, strides into the lobby at 7:30am sharp, his suit freshly pressed, confident, and wearing his best fedora. Just by the look of him, you can tell he is well educated, what’s more, his broad build indicates athleticism brought on by a life lived outdoors. The air is thick with anticipation as he gears up for the job interview. Shadows lurking, whispers in the corners – Stranghway's got the grit to navigate this maze, and by sundown, he'll either be shaking hands with the devil or heading back to the monotony of the farm. Let the games begin, Los Angeles.
