None of the board will. They have found a home on the podium, and some have set up housekeeping behind the big curved desk.
Candy Olson has a four-room apartment completely furnished under her desk. She plans to move in permanently if she wins this election.
Carol Kurdell has put in a crop of corn at her perch. She plans to next sow a field of pole beans and sell them by the roadside outside of ROSSAC.
Jack Lamb (I refuse to call him "doctor" for I am certain he can't write a sentence much less a doctoral dissertation). I want to do a forensic exam on his putative dissertation and then complain to the president of whichever gimcrack online school that awarded the fake degree to him knowing it was bought and paid for. I will give the president--who also has a bogus degree-- hell, or as my refined Aunt Jessie used to say H E Two Sticks.
Meanwhile Jack is stocking a lot of fattening food like Twinkies and Little Debbies and boxes of macaroni and cheese under his desk so that he can munch his way through his life-long incumbency. He's also laying in bushels of potato chips and peanut butter and jelly. I would not be surprised to see him stockpiling pure pork-fat lard under his desk.
If voters are dumb enough to vote Griffin back in and Motel Breath Falliero, they too will begin to set up housekeeping as well under their desks.
Pray, pray that term limits evict these leeches before they begin to morph into twins and then triplets and turn the board room into their home sweet homes. lee