In any good James Bond movie, everyone has the perfect alias. Goldfinger, Le Chiffre, Largo, Mr. Big. They have swaggers, and expensive shoes, greased hair and a quiver of weapons. They squint their eyes, travel with an entourage, and drive fancy cars. Well folks, we have our own new mysterious character, Niklas Brosnan, aka. The Swede. Be afraid, be very afraid. He looks and acts like a good guy, but let me tell you, nobody is an expert crepe maker without having a darkside. I’ll say this, Mike and I will have our wits about us now in the Jackson office as there is something undoubtably dubious about this fellow. 
Born abroad (as all villians are), Nik began his life in Sweden so his early years have been hard to track. His family still remains in Stockholm where I would guess they obviously spend all day eating Swedish meatballs and discussing how to take over the world, like any good villainous family would. Nik recently admitted that his Swedish passport provides a level of assumed neutrality and passivity allowing him to pass through European checkpoints with ease, unlike the glaring red flag of an American passport. Interesting. I still think he probably crosses borders under the cover of night on backroads, in unmarked cars, but that’s just a hunch.
We ended up in Munich together once when he was working an inside job at Cloudveil. He took us all out to the Hofbräuhaus and kept the beers (truth serum) flowing. He however managed to coincidentally get a tiny glass (note photo) and “wasn’t able” to drink as much as we were. Very clever, Swede.Very clever.
In an in-depth interrogation session early today, Nik admitted to liking the Stones over the Beatles, but I think that is just an obvious American choice. So sly. He also likes ice cream cake, which threw me off a bit, but I think that was the point. He travels everywhere with his french press, so if I figure if I deprive him of coffee I may be able to torture him into telling me his treasonous plans.
He claims that his ping pong skills are mediocre, which at first glance would be an advantage for the other Backbone staffers to defend themselves. However, I’m not buying it. I just figure he was too busy mastering new levels of sneakiness using his personalized ping pong paddles. Who needs ping pong when you can kill someone with your pinkie? Or a poisonous crepe perhaps? I’m on to you, Swede.
I also don’t trust anyone from the country that produced ABBA.
In an effort to make him feel comfortable and convince him that I am not a threat, I have welcomed him with open arms here at the Backbone office. He says he likes Donut Tuesdays, which means he has done his research on how to butter us up. Very sneaky, Swede. Anyway, you’ll be seeing him around from now on, talking to him on the phone and over email. He will be charming and polite, work hard and be epically helpful. I believe its all a ruse, but time will tell. Just keep your eyes peeled, that’s all I’m saying. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.
