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In a flash, Ranford made up his mind: he would decline to comment. He'd have to say something, of course, since the press conference was drawing to an end...
Or, on second thought, would he? Where was it set in stone that he was obliged to say a damn thing? Why should he feel beholden to a bunch of two-bit reporters? What had they done for him besides give him a lot of free publicity directly resulting in his success and wealth?
No, let someone else appease the PR gods for a change. They'd gotten their pound of flesh from him already--and then some. Naturally, somebody--Flanagan, no doubt--would ask Ranford why he'd arranged the conference in the first place. Well that little parasite could keep wondering till the cows came home for all Ranford cared. What did Flanagans of the world know of Ranford's true self? Or his lack of pain and sacrifice?
Date Written: June 21, 2003
Author: Jon Matza
Average Vote: 4.75