Rosemary was a wiz with spreadsheets. She could manipulate numbers, de-duplicate, and pull off multiple complicated formulas simultaneously. She was revered for her skills throughout the bureaucracy. Not so well known to everyone was her skill with a bow and arrow. While she had never been asked to shoot an apple off someone’s head or split an arrow on the target, she had no doubt that she could do it. But, as will inevitably happen when someone has two such prominent skills, they were bound to find an overlap. On this day, her supervisor asked her to perform some kind of miracle with the sales numbers from the previous fiscal year, and Rosemary responded by pulling out a tight little recurve from under her desk and snapping an arrow across the entire office that split the air like a laser and found its rest in a portrait of the founder, directly in the pupil of the left eye where she intended it.