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Nicholas Boothman
He got to work.
The first step was demolition. He launched his main
clean-up tool, which he called The Lie Sweeper. It
wasn't about adding words; it was about getting rid of
the dangerous ones. Addiction? Swap it out for "a
complex user interaction profile." Brain damage?
Replace it with "unforeseen receptor complications."
We hid the data? That became "a need for more
rigorous preliminary reporting standards."
Next came the skeleton of the lie, the corporate
apology structure he had perfected. It was four moves,
like a deadly, cynical dance.
The Fake-Sincere Handshake: You admit the feeling
of worry, never the reason for it. He typed the opening
line: “We deeply regret the confusion and
understandable anxiety that recent noise has caused
our patients and investors.” Confusion and anxiety. See
how clean that was? It said: Sorry you feel bad, not
Sorry we’re criminal bastards. Perfect emotional
misdirection.
The Bright Shiny Object: Immediately drag their
gaze to the horizon. Promise a future so dazzling they
forget the garbage fire in the present. He dictated:
“Cerulean’s commitment is absolute: to pioneering
tomorrow’s breakthroughs today. We are funnelling an
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