Arthur: Who authorized anyone to enter the private gallery?! Security, remove them!
Clara: Don't you dare touch me, or I'll have every single guard here fired before midnight!
Arthur: Clara? I thought you were stranded on the interstate bypass.
Clara: You underestimated how fast a private helicopter can fly from the county seat.
Arthur: You're too late, sweet girl. The signature transfer was completed five minutes ago.
Clara: Completed with a forged pen and a terrified old man on the floor.
Arthur: Watch your tone before I include your personal trust fund in the foreclosure.
A woman in an elegant black dress storms in, slaps the man in the tuxedo hard across the face, sending the velvet box flying from his hand as the crowd gasps. A loud slap impact cracked through the vaulted hall, followed immediately by the sound of the velvet box hitting the marble floor and a collective crowd gasp. Arthur spun sideways from the unexpected momentum, stumbling against the edge of the mahogany podium. The man in the tuxedo clutches his burning cheek in stunned disbelief while glaring at the woman with venomous rage.
Arthur: Have you completely lost your mind?! You just assaulted a corporate officer!
Clara: You don't touch my family!
Arthur: Your father was voluntarily signing over a delinquent mortgage agreement!
Clara: He was bleeding on the floor while you gloated over a fraudulent key!
Arthur: Security! Arrest her for aggravated assault right now!
Clara: The only person getting arrested tonight is the man standing next to expired arrest warrants.
Arthur rubbed his reddened cheek, his arrogant facade cracking under the intense glare of the enraged daughter.
Arthur: You think a theatrical display of temper changes the binding corporate seal?
Clara: The corporate seal was revoked by federal judges two hours ago.
Arthur: That is a complete fabrication! Show me the injunction order!
Clara reached into her structured leather handbag, pulling out a thick manila envelope sealed with a red wax stamp.