Blackstone leaned back in his chair, gazing around the cubicle. It was quite ugly. He didn't care much about decorum, and he certainly not that good at artsy-craftsy charms. But there might be something useful he could do. Undetectable extension would be nice to give him some leg room. But certainly he'd need some kind of permission for that.

Suddenly a paper airplane tapping his head shook him from his thoughts. Grabbing it he read the message. Returning to his papers he went through the news items for the week. Primarily it was tariffs.

Apparently Romania had put tariffs on British dragon goods to encourage their nation's market for them. In response Britain could use their own tariffs, but that would stifle trade. Really we can't do much about it. Blackstone thought to himself. That's the trouble with trade standards. It's about making sure things are safe but not getting too involved. He grabbed his book of M.O.M. Trading standards and flipped towards Dragons...

(OOC: Is it ok if I introduce this kind of stuff into plots?)