Joan, the secretary, knocked on the door of her boss’ office, “You need me, sir?”

“Yes, Joan, come on in,” the boss, a big-shouldered water buffalo, said. He pointed at his guest seated across his big oak desk and continued, “This is Mr. Watchoo, a warrior from the Wanna-Wanna tribe, a hunting and gathering people that live in the Savannah. Could you please feed him some hay?”

“I don’t eat hay!” the warrior shouted, angrily shaking his spear.

“You don’t?” the boss said, slowly moving his large horns from side to side in astonishment. “Everybody eats hay, or at least everyone should. It’s good for you.”

“Nonsense!” Mr. Watchoo responded. “How can dried grass be good for you?”

“Well, Mr. Watchoo, that’s not really a good way to start negotiations, is it?” the boss said.

“I’m not here to negotiate,” was the reply from the fierce-looking warrior.

“Oh, excuse me,” Joan interjected politely, “perhaps the gentlemen care for a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, sure, good idea, Joan,” the boss said and the secretary hurried to the kitchenette to boil a pot of coffee. She had been privy to many tense situations in this office and in her experience the ritual of sharing some coffee always seemed to calm down tempers and defuse some precarious moments during negotiations.

As soon as the coffee had percolated, Joan scooped up two coffee cups and a tray of cookies and rushed back to her boss’ office. But as soon as she opened the door, she realized that she was too late. The water buffalo had already been gored.

“Oh my God,” she cried out. “Is this a takeover?”

“Takeover? What takeover?” the tribesman asked, as he pulled his spear from the dead water buffalo. “I just needed some meat to feed my family.”