We’re up against the Tupper Group,” Amanda sighed as we entered NASA headquarters on E Street SW around 11:00 the next morning. “They are good.” A dozen or so of the most uniformly beautiful people I’d ever seen were milling about in the lobby, all smiles, returning security badges to a harried guard. “Wow, looks like a Vanity Fair photo shoot waiting to happen,” I observed. “How do you know who they are?” “The tall blond woman flirting with that younger suit on the left runs Tupper in Toronto,” Amanda explained. “I interviewed with her last year when I was at the end of my TK rope. I’m better now.” We moved over to the other side of the lobby to join the rest of the TK crew assembling there. A few of our folks exchanged casual nods with the Tupperites but there was no overt fraternizing with the enemy. “Just keep smiling, folks, and act as if we’re walking on sunshine,” Crawford said under his breath. “Diane, put those funky glasses back on. That’ll intimidate them.”
