Wiggin walks to the table on which his model stand.
Mr Wiggin
Good morning, gentlemen. This is a twelwe-storey block combining classical neo-Georgian features with the efficiency of modern techniques. The tenants arrive in the entrance hall here, and are carried along the corridor on a conveyor belt in extreme comfort and past murals depicting Mediterranean scenes, towards the rotating knives. The last twenty feet of the corridor are heavily soundproofed. The blood pours down these chutes and the mangled flesh slurps into these...
First City Gent
Excuse me....
Mr Wiggin
Hm?
First City Gent
Did you say knives?
Mr Wiggin
Rotating knives, yes.
Second City Gent
Are you proposing to slaughter our tenants?
Mr Wiggin
Does that not fit in with your plans?
First City Gent
No, it does not. We asked for a simple block of flats.