Sooner or later, the billionaire senior executives at Mission Control, sitting behind their custom-made teakwood desks, in their mahogany-panelled offices with the ten-foot-long credenzas and wet bars, their walls lined with the portraits of generations of junk mail moguls, behind which are hidden wall safes full of tightly bundled $100 bills and gold bars, are going to get tired of paying three cartoon boys to do the work of two. They will ask their IT boy to check on the internet activity of company computers on company time, and Pedro will then join TwixVoy, looking for someone to sponge off of in Portugal.