Global Warming

They say the Earth is heating up. But, unlike some people, I'm not responsible. That's right, I'm looking at you. You thought all those years you thoughtlessly tossed apple cores into recycling bins, you were saving the world? Bah! You, the consumer, are directly responsible for turning our once-proud homeworld into the cosmic glue factory it's become. You say you still don't understand? Let me break it down for you.

A thousand years ago, the Earth was covered in ocean. No land at all. Then, one day, a rocky island sprang up out of the sea. And on it was a single turtle, her back covered with mushrooms and garden gnomes. Remember now, this was back before anything, so when that turtle wagged its little turtle tail, it caused a butterfly effect. Actually, back then it was known as the "Turtle Effect," as butterflies didn't yet exist. But anyway, the turtle's callous tail wagging sent the waves smashing, the baby seals thrashing, and the Windows 95 crashing. So I guess it isn't really the same thing as the butterfly effect... except for the waves. That remains true.

See, the turtle is a metaphor. Each mushroom on its mighty back represents a model of the many industries which sprang up around the time of the first world war. Why just the first world war, and not the other three? Well, it has to do with logistics. You really can't sustain an army with a bottle of barbeque sauce; believe me, I've tried. If I never see another fork... but that's not important right now. What is important is that you heed my warning and stop recycling. Recycling has been known to both reduce and reuse, to the detriment of humankind. Our precious industries cannot continue recycling indefinitely, and if something isn't done, the Earth will continue to heat. So for the good of the people, discard your plastic! Packing peanuts be free!

K-Mart

Not many people would invest in K-Mart after it declared bankruptcy, but I did. Yes, I invested all my money into what I called "Big K." In fact, I went right up to the CEO of K-Mart, and was all, "Hey dude, change the name of the chain to 'Big K' as soon as you can! People will love it!" And he was all, "No. We've done enough damage to our poor shareholders. How can we justify changing the name?" That makes me mad, when industrialists try to philosophize. That's my job! It vexed me to the brink of madness, but instead of committing myself, I decided to run for CEO of K-Mart.

Promised more than I could deliver, some say. But I maintain to this day that had I been elected CEO of K-Mart, we'd be on the moon and speaking in emoticons by now. My lunar-based branding initiative could've been a cash cow of biblical proportion. Instead, it was relegated to the dustbin of history. How could such a bold, forward-thinking plan fail?! I calculated all the variables... except love.

And I tried to factor love into the plan! Really, I did. Seriously, dude. I went from house to house, knocking on doors and asking the occupants to marry me. All of them said no, leading me to refine my calculations to the point where I thought I could measure love. I petitioned Congress to fund my love-based mathematical boot camp. Two months and $46 billion later, my crack team of loyal arthropods discovered a formula to accurately measure love. And that equation is: Love = (Mass of kidneys / (average income * number of bathrooms in house)) / 0.

Technical Support

Hello! How may I help you? Okay, please hold one second... okay, I'm opening a new case file... so, how's the family? Really? Really? I'm sorry to hear that. No... sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stop crying. Sir? Sir, a new case file has been created. Can I have the model number, please? Yes, it's on the back of the casing... no... yes. Yes. No, I don't think I've ever been to Berlin. Is that where it happened?

Look, buddy, don't get snippy with me! I've worked this desk for over a hundred thousand years, supplying quality service to people a hundred thousand times better than you'll ever be. What?! No you... my boss? Fool! I have no boss! My only enemy is time. Now, if you're not willing to tell me the service tag on the fridge, I'm going to transfer you back to sales. Yeah, I will. I'll transfer you so fast it'll make your head spin. I have the power of transfer!

Don't believe me? Neither did Colonel Chickenpox. And look at him now, the big lout. Mopping up the walls over at the blood bank every Saturday... yeah, I know! The walls! Sometimes, when they hit an artery, it just... sprays all over the place. So they bring the old colonel in to clean up. Just like he cleaned up in the Great War. Yes... okay, I'm writing the service number down. Okay, have you performed the necessary hat dance? No? Look, I can't ship a replacement part until you do the hat dance. Okay, but after this I refuse to make another exception. You'll just have to take it up with management. The hat dance is a time-honored tradition! Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, I'm going to have to put you on hold. Buh-bye.