I’m gonna get a massive,opulent, garish rich guy desk. A place were I can screw my receptionist, screw people over, make decisions and crush people. Equip with a top drawer where I, me, can hide my gun for the occasions when bad people show up, a secret hiding place underneath it for the occasions when bad people show up and an invisible bulletproof partition in front of the desk for the occasions when bad people show up. I’ll invite terrified strangers over just to ask people if they know who I am a I’ll change my name to Mason Storm. However, I would primarily use my awesome desk to showcase my all-white, rich guy hair and expensive international bobbles I picked up during my various international journeys. They may look like pieces of brass SHIT, but they are worth more than your pathetic life, loser.