All is quiet at Tiger Towers. The atrium is silent and deserted. Every floor of Tiger of the Stripe’s vast HQ is empty, except for me typing away at my computer. Is it Brexit, the price of part mechanical wood pulp, a slump in demand for books? No, I am just busy on other things for the next week. Soon, the massive corporate beast that is Tiger of the Stripe will reawaken, lick its fearful symmetry into shape and roar back to life, reinvigorated and more dashingly stripey than ever.