Supplied Demand

 

Robert West faced his superiors from one end of a long, cedar table. The three leaders of the company sat huddled together at the other end as if keeping away from some sort of working-class disease. He smoothed out his tie--half nervously, half excitedly--as they whispered to each other.

"Who is this guy again?" asked Case, CEO for 39 years.

Cross, the Vice-president, looked at her clipboard. "This is Robert West, sir. He's an engineer with our company."

"But we don't have any trains..." Case replied.

"Engineers design produts now, sir." President Clark said.

"Then who drives the trains?"

There was an awkard moment of silence. Clark turned to the other end of the table.

"We are ready now, Mr. West." Clark said. "What is the need for this 'highly important meeting' as you called it?"

Robert stopped fiddling with his tie and nearly lept up from his chair. He was filled with an unusually high amount of energy, especially for an engineer.

"A-ah, yes!" he stammered. "I have with me plans for an invention that could literally change the world as we know it!" He waited for a response. After finding none, he continued.

"For years I have been secretly struggling to find an answer to one of mankind's most plaguing questions; The question of world hunger!"

Case leaned over to Cross.

"World what?" he said. She sighed.

"World hunger, sir. Not everyone in the world has enough to eat."

"Really? You wouldn't think so, there are McDonalds' everywhere."

"I have tried numerous experiments," Robert continued, "but to no avail. Then suddenly it hit just hit me a few days ago!" Robert removed a small stack of papers from his satchel.  "I have been working on these plans feverishly for the past three days. I'm sorry they aren't neater, but the should explain the device quite clearly."

He ran down to the other end of the table and placed the papers in front of the company heads. He stood there--eyes closed, beaming proudly--waiting for the first gasps of wonder that he knew would come. But after a minute of silence, he opened his eyes only to find everyone staring at him.

"Uh... sorry." he said as he returned to the other side of the table.

Secure, the three heads peered at the first page. On it was a quickhanded sketch of some sort of machine. It looked an awful lot like a toaster.

"This looks an awful lot like a toaster." Case said.

Robert frowned. "That's not right. Maybe you're looking at it upside-down."

They turned the paper around.

Case gave a raspy cackle. "Now it looks like an upside-down toaster!"

Robert adjusted his tie--a little less excitedly, a little more nervously.

"Yes, it probably does." he muttered. "But form doesn't follow function this time around. This device could perform far greater than toasting bread!"

"So what does this thingy do?" Clark said.

"The following pages give an in-depth explanation of the device's purposes, processes, and procedures." Robert said. No one made an effort to turn the page.

"So what does the thingy do?" Cross echoed a bit more harshly, checking her makeup in a compact.

Robert stumbled a bit. "Right. Uh--yes. This thingy--I mean invention... This invention has the ability to combine the simplest of ingredients, water and air, to create an edible substance that contains all the basic nutritional elements: carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen!"

Clark raised an eyebrow. "I don't eat Total because it's high in hydrogen." he said.

"I eat it for the fiber." Case blurted.

"But you see," Robert replied, "All the nutrients our bodies need, be it fiber or calcium or what have you--are all made up of these basic four elements!"

Cross tapped a fingernail on the table. "So... you're saying that people could survive solely on whatever this thingy spits out?"

"Yes!" Robert practically shouted. He even gave a litte hop of triumph.

The three at the end of the table grew silent. Clark and Cross looked to Case as he closed his eyes in thought, waiting for his word on the matter. After a few minutes, the only thing they received was a light snore.

"Good Lord." Cross muttered to herself. Clark suddenly turned back to Robert.

"Let's be blunt." he said, looking up into Robert's eyes. "I think my colleagues here will agree with me when I say that I am frankly not sure if something like this will sell."

Robert looked like someone had told him wrestling was real. "Sell?" he said.

Cross nodded. "I don't think it's what people are looking for."

Robert felt like his head was going to explode as he tugged on his tie. Clark and Cross sat indifferent as he took a few calming breaths. "I don't think you understand." he finally said. "How could you possibly comprehend the effect of something this revolutionary on the human race!?"

Clark tapped his pen on the table.

"You know," he finally said, "you're right." He leaned over the still dormant CEO and pressed a button on the intercom. "Kathy, send up Court from marketing." He released the button. "If anyone knows people, it's marketing."

"But--" Robert began to say, but a gratingly cheerful voice came ringing from the door.

"Hello, sirs and madam!" Court said. "How may I be of assistance to you today?"

Case woke up with a start. "I'll take a Dilly Bar!" he exclaimed.

While Cross reaquainted Case with his surroundings, Clark explained the device to Court. All this time Robert simply stood behind the wide windows of the room, fuming as passing clouds threw patches of light and shadow on his face.

"Yes, yes, I see." Court said after Clark finished his explanation. "This is a hard one!" He began pacing the room. "Well, we definitely have to change the shape. Toaster-like is so not apropo these days! It needs to be sleeker; more of a 'toaster of the future!' Hm... or maybe not. We need to make it appealing to the environmental, tofu-eating types--they're the only group I see that would be willing to buy this. This means subdued colors: khaki, greens... those sort of hues. We'll buy advertising from National Geographic, the Discovery Channel. Make it a big deal, a big tagline... Ah!" he stopped pacing and swept his hands in front of him. "EnviroMeal, the refridgerator Mother Nature always wanted you to have!"

Cross nodded in acceptance. "Not bad." she said.

"And then there's the issue of taste." Court contiued. "I can't believe this hasn't even been considered yet! We're going to create popular flavors. Mocha... Irish Cream, maybe?"

Robert finally had enough. "This isn't a damned espresso machine!" he said. "And I didn't design this for 'environmentalists'!"

"The who is it for?" Court asked.

"Isn't it obvious?! It's for the poor, the homeless!"

Court raised an eyebrow. "But that's not a profitable user base. Everyone knows the poor have no money."

"And that's why they need it!" Robert was practically shouting now, and was on the verge of ripping his tie clean off. "We can't sell something this important! Haven't you people ever heard of charity?!"

Clark frowned. He set his pen down on the table. "Of course we have Mr. West, but until we see Mother Theresa in the Fortune 500 I am afraid we are not going to find it an efficient means of business."

Robert leaned against the windows, metally exhausted. "I can't believe I'm hearing this..."

"Don't be." Cross said. "Industry today has become a web of resources with no other function other than to catch the money of consumers. Donations, charity-funding; all of it is for the sole purpose of strengthening the web. This... thing," she slapped the blueprints in front of her, "will do nothing for us but destroy the web we have spent so many years building. Surely you can see that."

"But these are people we're talking about. Actual lives here..."

"Some things always fall through the web, don't they."

"Wait a minute!" Case suddenly shouted, surprising the entire room. He stood up so he could face everyone there. "Now there was once a time where this 'web' Ms. Cross so loves to talk of broke under its own weight. Commerce failed us, and the only way were able to survive that depression was through the unity of ourselves with our neighbors and our own sacarafices for the good of all."

Robert smiled. "I'm glad someone finally understands." he said.

Case sneered however and continued. "But when I see you coming in here trying to auction such a marvelous machine to the highest bidder, even bringing in this--this... ad jocky!" he pointed to Court. "Well, it just makes me sick. You're fired, West."

Robert's jaw dropped. "But Mr. Case, you don't--"

"No more! I wan't your desk cleared by the end of the day. Goodbye, you greedy weasel!"

Robert clenched his fist in rage, then oddly relaxed it as the big picture finally came into view. He shrugged to himself then silently left the room, leaving his blueprints behind on the long table."

"We couldn't have agreed more,  sir." said Clark, giving a slight, coy grin. "Oh, Mr. Court?" he asked as the agent started to leave. "Could you please take Mr. West's papers with you and place them with the files on cold fusion? Thank you."