Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Begun, The Drone War Has




Oliver Cornish leaned back in his cubicle at Retrogressive Insurance Company, chucked a crumpled-up piece of paper at the trashcan, and nailed the shot cold.

"It couldn't be any other way," he thought.  "Not today."

Today would be a very fateful day in the til now rather lackluster life of Oliver Cornish, a man so stuck for special distinctions he was overjoyed whenever he was followed back on Twitter by spambots.   Indeed today would be a very fateful day in the life of Oliver Cornish, because Oliver Cornish had planned everything carefully and deliberately.

"Mr. Riley,  a word with you?" said Oliver Cornish, entering the office of Morton Riley, President of Retrogressive Insurance Company.  

"You again, Cornish?"said Morton Riley, a man who always referred to company employees by their last names because he didn't want any employee whose first name ended in "y" or "ie" to think he actually liked them. 

"Mr. Riley," said Oliver Cornish, "I you to give me  a promotion to Senior Vice-President, a raise to $450,000 a year,  and the key to the Executive Washroom."

"Cornish, why would I do that? You are a mediocre employee.  Here's your last performance evaluation; look at these ratings:  Fair ... Fair ... Poor, and they relate to  NameJob Title, and Date! "

"Why?" said Oliver Cornish.

"Begun, the Drone War has." 

And with that, a large silvery object with wings appeared at the window of  Morton Riley's office and hovered steadily.

"You'll never get away with this, Cornish!"

"Of course I will, Mr. Riley.  The way things are going for him President Obama will be blamed, not me."

Morton Riley relented and agreed to everything Oliver Cornish wanted.  Oliver Cornish punched a few keys on his cellphone, the drone vanished, and  in a moment so did Oliver Cornish.


*********************


Fifteen minutes later Oliver Cornish entered the office of Amanda Mayfair, Director of Human Resources at Retrogressive Insurance Company.

"You again, Oliver?" said Amanda Mayfair, a woman so hot that even exclusively gay men fantasized about her.

"Amanda," said Oliver Cornish, "I want you to go out with me tonight to a inexpensive dinner and a second run movie, and then back to my apartment for an evening of come what may!"

"Oliver, why would I do that?  I find you about as appealing as a Nicolas Cage film festival!"

"Why?" said Oliver Cornish.

"Begun, the Drone War has." 

And with that, a large silvery object with wings appeared at the window of Amanda Mayfair's office and hovered steadily.

"You'll never get away with this, Oliver!"

"Of course I will, Amanda.   The way things are going for him President Obama will be blamed, not me."

Amanda Mayfair  relented and agreed to everything Oliver Cornish wanted.  Oliver Cornish punched a few keys on his cellphone, the drone vanished, and  in a moment so did Oliver Cornish.


 *********************


Twenty-five minutes later Oliver Cornish  entered the office of Giles Random, Executive Vice-President of Random Shack Publishing.

"You again, Mr. Cornish?" said Mr. Random, a publisher so discriminating he had told J.K. Rowling to keep on rolling, Hemingway to be on his way, and Thomas Wolfe to go home again.

"Mr. Random, I want you to publish my book A Tale of Two Zip Codes, pay me a six figure advance, and work out a movie deal in which I have a co-starring role and film credit that reads "And introducing Oliver Cornish."  

"Mr. Cornish, why would I do that? Your novel  is terrible, has no definable point of view, and is a blatant rip-0ff of Dickens. Just look at your first sentence: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, take your pick?!!" 

"Why?" said Oliver Cornish.

"Begun, the Drone War has." 

And with that, a large silvery object with wings appeared at the window of Giles Random's office and hovered steadily.

"You'll never get away with this, Mr. Cornish!"

"Of course I will, Mr. Random.  The way things are going for him President Obama will be blamed, not me."

Giles Random relented and agreed to everything Oliver Cornish wanted.  Oliver Cornish punched a few keys on his cellphone, the drone vanished, and  in a moment so did Oliver Cornish. 


*********************


Indeed today had been a very fateful day in the life of Oliver Cornish, because Oliver Cornish had planned everything carefully and deliberately. Once he had read that drones had become available to everyday citizens, Oliver Cornish had begun forming his strategy.  As he walked home, Oliver Cornish felt well satisfied that  he had successfully utilized the latest technology to dramatically alter his life and fortunes.

And with that a large silvery object with wings appeared.  It hovered for a moment, then it plummeted straight at Oliver Cornish. 

All that was left of Oliver Cornish was his cell phone.

"I don't care if I am blamed for this," said the President of the United States down in Washington D.C.  "This guy just pissed me the hell off!"

"Amen to that," said the Vice-President.

" And you know what else, Joe?" said President Obama.

"What, Mr. President?"

"Ended, the Drone War has." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



4 comments:

Russell said...

Curse that Obama, just when things were going so well for Oliver (I assume his middle name is Wendell) Cornish.

the hot woman and book deal sounded good to me. I hope they go ahead a publish A Tale of Two Zip Codes--can't wait to read that one.

K.B. Owen said...

Aww, shucks, Oliver's plan was going so well! And really, who can resist "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, take your pick"? I mean, America is all about choice, right?

Thanks for the giggles, Perry!

Perry Block said...

Sorry, Russell, the publication of "A Tale of Two Zip Codes" has been suspended indefinitely. President Obama has been blamed.

Too bad because advance word on Oliver Wendell Cornish's book is that it was a terrific read/piece of crap, take your pick.

Perry Block said...

Thanks, K.B. I thought it was an intriguing little tale, ripped from today's headlines as it was and starring the incomparable Oliver Cornish.