The elevator doors opened with a hiss, releasing a faint aroma of smoked paprika. Sixx stepped out onto the top floor of Rumpel Tower, unsure if she was entering a boardroom or a barbecue pit.

Ronald Rumpel stood waiting, his entire body marbled like premium ribeye, wearing a pinstripe suit that somehow also looked… seasoned. “Welcome, Sixx,” he said, voice buttery smooth.

Sixx blinked. “You’re… very shiny today.”

“Moisturizer,” Rumpel replied proudly. “Olive oil. Extra virgin.”

She took her seat across from him, notebook ready. “Let’s start simple. What exactly are you?”

Rumpel leaned back, the leather chair squeaking under his well‑marbled weight. “I am the world’s first self‑made meat mogul. A visionary. A pioneer. A protein‑based entrepreneur.”

Sixx nodded slowly. “And your city in the clouds… Meatropolis… that’s real?”

“As real as my USDA certification,” he said, tapping a gold badge on his lapel.

“Why build a floating city?” Sixx asked.

Rumpel spread his arms dramatically. “Because the ground is too crowded. And also because seagulls respect me up there.”

Sixx scribbled a note. “Do people actually live in Meatropolis?”

“Of course. We have condos, spas, a gravy fountain, and a 24‑hour brisket spa. Residents love it.”

“A brisket spa?” Sixx raised a brow.

“Steam rooms infused with hickory smoke,” he explained. “It’s very rejuvenating.”

Sixx cleared her throat. “Let’s talk business. What’s your biggest achievement?”

Rumpel grinned, teeth sparkling like polished cutlery. “Inventing the world’s first cloud‑powered grill. It runs on lightning.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Only if you’re slow,” he said with a wink.

Sixx leaned forward. “Your critics say your ideas are… unusual.”

Rumpel scoffed. “Critics are just jealous they weren’t born delicious.”

“Do you ever worry about being… eaten?” Sixx asked carefully.

Rumpel gasped dramatically. “Sixx! I am a businessman, not a buffet.”

“Sorry, just asking.”

He adjusted his steak‑textured tie. “I have security. Three golden spatulas and a team of highly trained vegan ninjas.”

Sixx blinked again. “Vegan ninjas?”

“They never get tempted,” he said proudly. “Loyal to the bone. Or… lack of bone.”

Sixx flipped to a new page. “What’s next for Ronald Rumpel?”

He stood, gazing out the window at the drifting clouds. “Expansion. Innovation. And possibly a theme park. Meatlandia.”

“What would be in Meatlandia?”

Rumpel turned back to her, eyes gleaming like glazed ham. “Everything the world never asked for — but will absolutely love.”