I find me some corporate intrigue and blog about it

So I was snooping around in the sitemeter of my other blog trying to find out who's been sending me some of that delicious low-cal, yet vitamin-enriched web-traffic. And then suddenly, before I could say "Fuck Ken Lay and may Jeff Skillings' testicles get sucked into a time warp", I was right slap bang in the middle of a corporate espionage scam.

This is what happened. Let's say there's a Washington-based aircraft manufacturer called Starbucks and Sons Aeroplane Trading Company (motto "We get you high without the hangover"). Now let's say there's also this other aircraft manufacturer, a long-time rival of the first one, let's just pluck a name out of thin air and call it Airbus. Now these companies thirst so much for each others' blood that they no longer allow both these companies to compete in the Olympics at the same time 'cause it might start a World War. In fact, they are so fiercely competitive that if one comes up with a plane that can carry 400 passengers, you can be sure that the other will come up with one that can carry the same 400 passengers pregnant with sextuplets. You get the picture.

So I was kinda curious when I saw that someone with an ip address belonging to Starbucks and Sons had happened upon my blog. And this was the search engine result that had referred him : "Airbus Business Model". You see what I'm getting at? Starbucks and Sons was trying to replicate Airbus's business model by using the rigorously tested and time-proven technique of googling for it.

And boy, were they in luck. 'Cause the blog they had happened upon contained just the shrewd advice that could give their aeroplane manufacturing business the boost it needed. For example, a radical proposal for conserving space and increasing the profit margin by twisting coach class passengers into the shape of a chair and seating business class passengers on them. And a brilliant plan to reduce operating costs and save fuel by requiring passengers to blow violently into a human-powered jet engine while being urged on by other passengers sporting whips and paintball guns.

So my fellow air-travelers, the next time you drive to the airport, chortling in glee because of the awesome cheap tickets you were able to rustle up through cheapskates.com, if it's a Starbucks-manufactured plane you're gonna be climbing aboard, just a word of caution. Don't be too surprised if you find yourself wedged into the asscrack of a rich fat Texas oil tycoon as he spanks your behind, yelling at you to get on with that blowin, 'cause the goddamn plane ain't gonna fly itself. And you know who to blame for it. I'll be awaiting your brickbats.