"...Just have them wait outside. The boss has his own ideas," Don Quixote said, then hung up the phone. "I still need to handle some things. I'll deal with it when I come down. Protect yourself."
After hanging up, Don Quixote casually slipped the phone into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, turned around, and redirected his gaze toward the VIP owner's box.
Unlike the jubilation of the Giants fans, an air of decay permeated the box.
Judging by the look on the Philadelphia Eagles' owner, Don Quixote had no doubt that if John Mara hadn't been there, the man would have picked up a chair and smashed the television to smithereens.
Besides the Eagles, who were being nailed to the pillar of shame, the broadcasting company's vice president also had an ashen face. He didn't even dare to think about how he would explain the second half's plummeting viewership curve to the board of directors.
