James sat slumped on a cheap aluminum chair, listening to the grating melody of the coffee maker. Although he was already slightly late it was far too early to start a workday without a cup of coffee. Such an attitude was typically frowned upon in his line of work, but there was a reason James was just a "professional associate" and not an actual fed. After adding enough artificial creamer and sugar to mask the burnt taste of the cheap coffee, James shuffled his way out of the dingy break room. As he made his way down the hall, he questioned why he was even there in the first place. He was a financial investigator, so he usually hadn’t a reason to sit in on the interrogation. His job typically involved sorting through data, spreadsheets, and the like. [Not that it matters too much a paycheck's a paycheck.] James thought as he took a sip of the bitter sludge that some might charitably call Coffee.  (this is the first paragraph)