Rize: Imagine. Construct. Progress.
That's what she reads, the condo billboard on Broadway.
A zed to make it all Yaletown-hottie-totty and then some words to entice the buyer in. Imagine (cause condo buyers can't imagine), Construct (cause they'll build it for you), and Progress (cause you need to feel like you're contributing to society somehow).
Lap it up. Put the money in, decorate that cube of a place and flick some big city flair all over it, calling it cozy.
They'll just build more and when they want to build, oh they'll build.
A simple late night fire, quick cleanup and Main and Broadway is the next place to be.

"Keep Vancouver segregated!"

"If we keep them separated Johnson, apathetically content in their own cliques and... communities!, that's what we'll call it, happily distracted, well then Johnson, then we can really build!!!"

(McArthur's belt lurches with his gut as he tosses his Jack Daniels' over the crystal rim, spilling generously onto the carpet).

The wine runs low, the whiskey even lower and the scotch is dented. They reek of oil. They reek of water. Both natural resources are commodities in their eyes and the only obstacle is the pathetic natural impulse of the Vancouverites.

"Yeah, keep them segregated Johnson... Now, how 'bout them liquor laws..."

(They pull out the single malt).