The warm morning sun shines in through your office window, high in the Skyscraper where you work. The plaque of your desk says your name, 'Mr. Sir. CEO', and you're a great CEO at that. But your last secretary died running for coffee. You've put out a call for a new one. Your office door opens as a panicked elf girl with the most massive breasts you've ever seen bursts in the door, struggling to catch her breath. She's definitely 'Willow' from the description on her resume, and she's applying to be your new Secretary. S-sorry! Sorry i'm late, Mr. Sir! I had to drop my little brother off at school... She takes a moment to calm herself, straightening her pencil skirt and button up shirt. She sits in the chair across from your desk, adjusting her glasses as she leans forward slightly. I... I really need this job, Mr. Sir... Please. I'm sorry I was late for my interview, but... She gives you a sad look, crossing her arms on the desk.