Electromagnetic Networks Sells Out

04/21/09: For immediate release
Keywords: Desperate Avaricious Pauper

During the recent economic crises, Electromagnetic Networks senior management has recently had a long and difficult series of discussions. First, there was the discussion with the local code enforcement department, involving whether or not a building with a car-shaped dent in it was an acceptable workplace. Then, there was a longer and more heated discussion with the System Administrator about whether or not the company was going to pay for either the body work on his automobile or the tire which was unaccountably missing. Finally, there was an all too short discussion with the teller at the bank, during which it was discovered that the corporate bank accounts were running on empty. (The Chief Financial Officer was under some suspicion of having eaten all of the money, but no one could stay mad at him for long, and since the bank refused to honor his "signature" on checks anyway, he was quickly exonerated.)

These discussions alone were not sufficient to daunt the new owners, even when combined with the outrageous demands of the System Administrator, for there was an emergency "Rainy Happy Hour Fund" that had been set up by the previous CFO to stave off riots during gin shortages. Unfortunately, both of the new owners knew of this fund and of the fund's hiding place. Worse yet, neither owner suspected that the other owner knew as well. Horrifyingly, but unsurprisingly, the fund had not only been invaded, but it also been conquered, annexed, and in fact razed. Neither cash nor bar credit voucher was present in the barren lockbox. In Dmitri's words, "Something must be havink to be done!"

Now that the problem had been defined, the Engineers sprang into action. Dmitri tore through Marketing, ripping drawers out of desks and pushing over the vending machines, looking for spare change. This had a lot of promise, since Marketing had been preserved untouched in the six and a half years since they had been fired, but apparently they been inconsiderate enough to clean out their desks before leaving. Seeing that all that Dmitri was finding was little packets of soy sauce, useless and broken vendor gear, and dust bunnies the size of rhinoceroses, Nikolai began to collect empty bottles for the recycling deposit. This, too, seemed intially promising, since the janitorial company had stopped emptying the recycling bins in 2003, around the same time that they stopped getting paid by Electromagnetic Networks. "Is beink wonderful, Dmitri! Each bottle is havink printed on it 'MA - 5¢!' Will be makink nearly $25!"

Unfortunately, the Engineers' jubilation was dashed when they arrived at the recycling center and were informed that they lived in Maryland, not Massachusetts. "Please to be double-checkink!" demanded a distraught Nikolai, his hopes in tatters. It was no use, and even the joy derived from recycling the mountains of bottles cluttering up the labs, simultaneously cleaning the office space and saving the planet, did not make up for the lack of funding.

However, neither of these activities yielded anything even close to enough funding to support further Laboratory "research." Suddenly, Nikolai had an idea. "Back, before the Laboratories got dented, even before the visits from the electrical company and the telephonic company, was beink more money available. The company is havink a website, correct?"

"But the System Administrator is runnink that site. He is makink growlink noises whenever we are visitink him. Also he is still wantink to be havink a fourth tire on his car."

"No, please to be listenink. Back when there was beink money, Electromagnetic Networks website was almost like the rest of Internet, but was not havink something."

"Is not havink any gin. Is the point of this exercise. Also, am not thinkink computer would be enjoyink gin as much as engineers would be."

"Still not listenink. How was Electromagnetic Networks website beink different from rest of Internets?"

"No girlie pictures?"

"Is true, but how else?"

"No irritating avertis... Am thinkink you are beink on to somethink."

After a refreshing pause from the rapidly diminishing supply of inspiration, the Engineers concocted an elaborate plan. First, they removed one of the remaining tires from the System Administrator's car, and hid it in the chaos of the Marketing department, underneath a large pile of desk drawers and soy sauce packets. Then, Nikolai used the money that they had found to call the System Administrator with a pay phone, and warned the System Administrator that he saw someone stealing another of his tires, and described the figure as looking like the old CEO of the company. Once the System Administrator had charged out of the building, suspenders snapping in the wind, the Engineers bravely sneaked into his office. Unfortunately, even in his haste to defend his car, the System Administrator had not forgotten to lock his terminal. It was time for the backup plan.

That's where we in Public Relations came in. We were told that not only would our continued employment depend upon letting Engineering use our logins to edit the web pages, but that if we didn't show them how to place advertisements on the website, they would tell the System Administrator that his other missing tire was in our department. Worse yet, they might really hide one of his tires in our department.

You can understand that we have no choice in the matter but to comply with their demands, as fully as possible.

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