Yoshi's got a Master's in Journalism so of course he was an aspiring political correspondent. Finally employed, he thought his nightmares were over. Although the 26-year-old D.C. native didn't get his dream job at the Post, at least he got something "in the newspaper business." Could move into his own place. Could start to repay his school loans, or rather, some of the interest on them.
Oh, and he could still get a peek at a few of the taller centuries' old symbols of the City's ruling-power. Sure, it was only on rare occasions. Sure, it was only when he was offering a platter of fresh organic produce (no, not on bended knee!) to the almighty editors of the suburban no-name paper where he worked (as the "Urban Agriculture" columnist).
But things in the glass walled conference room of the paper's 10th floor Crystal City high-rise office are about to get shaken up. Literally. And of all the "dreams" Yoshi's had in his life, it's a bad one that seems to be coming true - before his very eyes today. And it's one he wouldn't have wished on his worst enemy.
As his grandfather would say, Let the ducking and covering begin. Seriously, people...move!