My steps were slow and even as I stepped through the large mahogany doors. They were intricately carved, beautiful. It showed just how rich the man I was about to meet truly was. My dark black dress shoes clicked as I walked through the dark, perfectly clean hallway. The smell of bleach wafted through the air, singing the hairs in my nose. I was getting closer to his office and my heartbeat was rising. It beat like a drum as I got infinitely closer to the sealed, sound-proofed doors at the end of the hall. I was scared, obviously. This man could very easily be my maker. He was, after all, the most powerful man in the world. Some claimed to stronger, more cunning, more adept at what they did but he… Oh he topped them all. The only reason I had been allowed to meet with him was because I had something he wanted. Something important. I pressed my- now sweaty –hands against the thick wooden doors that separated me from this all powerful overlord. I pushed, gently at first but then, forcing myself to show some form of purpose, pushed harder and made my way into the room. And there he was. Sitting just behind a large, black oak desk. His hands were folded neatly in front of him, a cage that could be placed around me at a moment’s notice. His curly read hair bounced slightly as he moved his hands up to his glasses, adjusting them on the bridge of his nose. He reach to his shirt pocket, addressing the small pocket protector that had been carefully laid there by who knows how many servants. His buckteeth hid themselves behind his curled lips as he grinned. And then he spoke. “Do you have it? The book?” I nodded meekly as I stepped forward, placing the 14th edition of The Incredible Hulk down on the table in front of him. “Good… Good…” He nodded, flipping lightly through the pages, careful not to tear them. He looked up at me, the grin now reaching his eyes. “The main ingredient of Heinz Ketchup is high fructose corn syrup.” He whispered, the words just barely grazing his lips. The sheer density of his knowledge was unloaded upon me as he said that simple, commonly known statement. Hell, it was the one of the strongest power sentences that first graders were taught. But backed with all the other knowledge within in his pale skinned, freckled cranium, I was launched into the hallway that I had failed to close the doors too. The shockwave burst my ear drums and crushed my ribs as he began laughing. “Next time, close the door. The door closes inward.” As those final words left his mouth, the doors closed and I breathed my final breath. ((AN: Though I would start the workshop off with something rather simple and short. I think this is a nice prompt and can be funny or serious depending on how you use it. If you want me to do a certain prompt, from anywhere not just the blog, post it in the comments please!))