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At first, there was Tony's Tips. He wasn't the Prophet yet then, believe it or not, but it wouldn't take long.
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Having graduated with the highest honours in Economics, Accounting, Mathematics and Metaphysics, pursued simultaneously at Tetrahedron University and Roderick College, for a total of eight undergraduate degrees, a couple of Masters on the side, a detour into Astrobiology, plus a number of rod-based experiences, Natalie was a fantastic analyst from the moment she arrived at Zeelicious, her application of the Rule-bound higher shapes third only to Tony and Geoff, with particularly impressive control of the notoriously elusive great retrosnub icosidodecahedron. Natalie's background made her a perfect fit for our industry-leading Multiversal Rod + Growth for Many Things, Alien and Otherwise financial reports, which she has edited for the past SeveralYears.
Away from the office, Natalie's hobbies include baking, inline skating and hyperdimensional tracing, which she describes as a "relaxing, multiverse-friendly way to reorient hyperdimensional threads". Whatever you say, Natalie!
"Competent with the basics" is the best that can be said of the first incarnation of the entity known as Olmsworth, a man with no first name, and so: his last name was his first name, which confused the performance review software we used to run (some buggy crap from Team Overlord; we've since transitioned to a Geminotic system better suited to our Pillars), promoting him each year, eventually far beyond his capacity, as he ascended to CEO following the Prophet's mysterious demise. Thankfully, just for a bit. He was fired for being a prick, for disrespecting our fiery leader. It is said that he did love her, inside. That he did lust her, inside the bottom drawer of his cabinet.
[ OLMSWORTH ] : You'll pay for this, you little whore!
Brilliant! thought Geoff, retaking his seat between Essian and James, who were both entranced by Julia's performance. Their CEO. Yes![ OLMSWORTH ] : FUCKING WHORE!
[ VELDT ] : More.
[ OLMSWORTH ] : YOU FUCKING WHORE! BITCH! WHORE! That position was mine! Receptionist slut! You fucked your way up! I fucking earned it! BITCH!
He sits in a corner, all wired, machines. Organic machines. Wires and rods.
It wasn't his choice. He was summoned by Veldt, who sits at his desk, now to name him again. Having named him before, when he'd treated another.
Same name. New brain. All the same, in the end.