Quietly the members of the secret society entered the deserted building after hours and softly closed the door.
“This is insanely ridiculous,” Fandango said grumpily. “By the way, I brought those cookies everyone likes.”
“Thanks!” Teresa replied cheerfully. “But that’s what we get for electing a crazy English professor for President, who probably didn’t even read as many books as I did.”
“Let’s be fair,” Sadje said moderately. “We didn’t know she’d act so extremely cuckoo once she took office. I can’t eat cookies, so I brought keto-friendly egg salad.”
Happily munching a cookie, Jim said, “I could easily recommend a playlist to our new President, which might get her in a better mood and less likely to randomly order people killed for misusing grammar.”
“I’m a grammar pendant myself,” Fandango boldly admitted. “But even I say that executing people for a misplaced apostrophe is wildly inappropriate.”
“Pedant,” Kristian mildly corrected Fandango.
Fandango paused in the middle of furiously composing a new blog post on his phone. “What?”
“Pedant!” Kristian loudly repeated. “You said pendant but it’s pedant!”
“It’s just a typo!” Fandango yelled defensively.
“Shhhh!” Teresa hushed them fearfully. “No one can know we’re in here.”
“Hopefully the President is busy with more important things than our silly little adverb meetup,” Sadje said placatingly.
“Terribly sorry I’m ignoring everyone,” Rory called out apologetically from the corner. “What do you all think about prostitution? Please extensively explain your answers.”
“Interestingly,” Jim said, “there have been many songs about this topic. Bob Seger, for example–”
Suddenly the door burst open and a group of scarily dressed FBA agents entered.
“Freeze!” shouted the FBA leader. “You’re all under arrest for adverbing! Place your hands over your mouths. Slowly!”