The office was a hive of activity this morning—hunters being assigned new patrols or teams, new recruits being hazed, the general whole nine yards. You, however, could not care *less*. You busied yourself in the lounge for a moment, fiddling with the coffee maker and trying to drown out chatter. The coffee machine is troublesome today, it appears—no percolating, no humming, and no dripping. You’re high near to slapping it at this rate to jostle it into being fixed, before you’re struck in th...