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The Moody Version
There was an unusual roar that afternoon along Ring Rd. One, Two, Three Ferrari’s came flying by. In the first one was Emily, one of the founders of SoftEng.net. In the next was Matt, talking wildly on his cell phone to Mason, who was on vacation in Fiji, about the deal that had just taken place. Next came the pink Ferrari owned by Stockwell. He was alone in the car … no wait, up pops Margaritta’s head.They were all back at the birthplace of the company that had made 21% of the Software Engineering class of 2007 multi-millionaires by graduation. They were to talk to incoming students about entrepreneurship. They all parked their cars and stepped out into the fresh spring air.
They were all on there way into the Dong Center of Unwanted Pregnancy and Family Planning (which was a well known shortcut to the Davis Center). They passed Antonio, the Spanish Guitar Playing Hobo. They all flipped him $50 as he played his hit “ I wish I didn’t make stupid comments and joined the frigin company”.
They made there way into the theater and went backstage. They had to wait for the entertaining first act was over. It was Geoff The Crazy Clown. Yes, apparently this is what a McMaster Engineering degree gets you.
“Hey Moody,” said Stocks, “Isn’t Mason a big fag”.
“No,” said Moody, CEO of SoftEng.net.
But little did they know, Matt had left his cell phone on and Mason had heard everything. Furious, Mason hopped into his private jet flew to waterloo, and opened fire (this is some kind of army jet) on the Davis Center killing all occupants. Getting out his calculator he figured out that it cost $2532 in fuel and $416,867 each, for the 4 missiles that he used. Exactly 1.67 million dollars. This amount made him go insane, and he ended up living with Crazy Dunken Emperor of the World Chinese Sean as gay lovers.
And the prequel to that story provided by World Dong:
Stepping outside into the fresh spring air, the familiar theme of the Simpsons rings again. *click*
"Professor Dong speaking."
"Okay. How many times do I have to tell you, stop calling yourself that. How can someone so stupid be a professor? Good Ganesh."
Some people really don't ever change, do they?
"Hi Stockwell. How's it going?"
"Fine until you opened your mouth. Dung, why do you insist on sounding smart? How did you pass retard school?"
"Waterloo? Well it took me a while but I finally got my Ph.D. Aren’t you happy for me Stocks? I'm also teaching in the same building named after me, by the way."
"Yeah, that's because Margarita paid for your funding, dipshit."
"Hey, you're cutting out Stockwell. What did you say there? I didn't hear you."
"Shut up, you heard me you commie bastard."
"No seriously I didn't hear anything about Margarita. But what's up with you and her anyway? Come on now, it's been ten years...Stockwell? Hello?"
Why does he always hang up first?
While I was waiting for him to call back (he always does within 5 minutes) my attention diverted to the new faces of the Software Engineering program gathering on the lawn beside the Dong Centre of Unwanted Pregnancy and Family Planning, where I teach. Many of them wore shabby clothing, some didn't even have shoes. I counted nine people wearing "I paid $35 000 000 for SE tuition and all I got was this stupid T-shirt." tops. Poor kids. If they only knew that the pain was just beginning.
Simpson music came back. "Hi Stockwell."
"What the? Uh Dong, it's Moody. Look I only got a few minutes before I'm heading up there with the rest of SoftEng.net. Just letting you know Mason's coming in his army jet plane."
"Oh. Do your clients even know your company president owns a jet with missiles?"
“Some of them do. Every time he brings it up everyone laughs, but that seems to piss him off. Did I mention he's got a deal coming down in Fiji as we speak?"
"Uh, what deals could a software service company possibly make in Fiji?"
"Haha I don't know anything Dong. You think I actually do stuff? I don't even know what the ".net" means in our name. You really should have passed 1B my friend, you'd be living easy and living large. Once this Fiji deal goes down it’s all gravy from here. I’m really looking forward to spending the rest of my life in the Caribbean. Anyway Dong, don't forget to attend my girlfriend's graduation after we speak to the softies."
"How could I forget? She was one of my brightest students. She's really proud of that degree she's getting."
"Uh...yeah you can stop bringing that up you know. Bastard." *click*
People agree, it must be funny or something to hang up on Dong.
Suddenly a protesting crowd appeared out of nowhere and began getting quite rowdy. A red and yellow convertible crusing at top speed split the crowd in two, bodies flying everywhere. By the time it parked outside Chopsticks two "Save the Kittens" picket sign, streaked with blood, were sticking to the windshield wipers. From a distance I could see Kevin running towards us holding a sign different from all the others - "PUT ME IN THE STORY" or something like that that made no sense whatsoever. Grossly confused, my thoughts were interrupted when I saw the bumper sticker. “How’s my driving? Call 1-800 CHINESE.”
Sean, an occasional guest speaker at my lectures, got out and offered to shake my hand.
"No way Sean. Did you forget what happened the last time I shook hands with you? I couldn’t sit down for a week.”
"Oh yeah. Shit. Fuck. Oh well. When the fuck are the fucking soft dot engnet bastards coming. I'm hungry. Shit. I’ll just check my email. Call me when the bastards get here.”
As Sean went up to the SE Lab, that’s when three more convertibles, one of them a VERY homoerotic shade of pink, pulled up around Ring Road.
Back to the Other Stories of the Future