When All Else Fails, Let the After-party Roll!
Noreen Crimpanfortis, Vice President of Business Affairs for Hyper-Citation, Inc. faxes a special memo to her wayward brother, Morris Bartlett Crimpanfortis, V, as he languishes in coal country. Noreen previously copied him on the all-network memo, commanding every decision-maker in stations across the country to stay clear of anyone who hints of a Kalabrashion connection. Noreen makes mention of the fact that the after-party for the Silt Ridge Midnight News, when put up on the satellite, has gained worldwide attention. Apparently, no one is watching the local newscasts, but they’re tuning in from all over the world to catch the extravagant after-parties, held in the lot out in back of the towering Graphite County Opera House. Noreen notices that there is a lot of property in back of the opera house, representing a lot of lawn to mow. Morris seemingly has a problem with his sister’s analytics, as the property in back of the opera house is still covered with snow. He wonders how he should respond to this. What if they resort to using snow blowers? The memo slips disconsolately from his cluttered desk to the littered floor, and he just leaves it there . . .
TO: Morris Bartlett Crimpanfortis, V
FROM: Noreen Crimpanfortis, Vice President of Business Affairs
RE: You’d Better Start Paying Attention!
TRANSMITTED VIA FACSIMILE
Morey,
I don’t know if you’re going to see this. I don’t know if your fax machine works. I don’t know if the satellites are working. I don’t even know if you look at what comes across your transom. But if you do see this, I urge you to ACT on it and FOLLOW ALONG with what I’m trying to impart to you.
FIRST, you are surely aware that I have rang the ALARM BELL on yet another dastardly Kalabrashion takeover ploy. This one involves the fine folks at Kentucky Power Glide. You may have already seen the preliminary plans. It’s going to be really elaborate, one of the most elaborate ever, with this undulating sod bridge high above the Jersey Turnpike.
The Undulating Sod Bridge: Quite a Sight
Don’t ask me, I don’t what they do to make it undulate. Nor do I fully understand why it even has to undulate in the first place. But I just know it adds to the excitement for motorists of seeing people mowing the lawn high above. Then, you have all the ancillary stuff, including the flying grass blades and dandelions. Well, you get the picture. I’ll be going back there to kick off the launch. I don’t think you’ll be needing to make a plane ticket, though I guess it’s within driving distance for you. C’EST LA VIE, Y’ALL.
Morey, I don’t need to tell you about the games the Kalabrashions play. They’ll smile at your face and shiv you in the back as cool as a cucumber, no questions asked. Their latest sham involves pretending to be friendly landscapers. Has anyone approached the opera house yet to bid on mowing? If so, I need you to REPORT THIS ACTIVITY immediately to me. The same goes if anyone else in that backwater burg of Silt Ridge has received inquiries about placing landscaping bids. Don’t take this the wrong way, Morey, but do people in that sorry neck of the woods even have lawns? Or is it just kind of the slovenly-weed-encrusted-moss bank mentality? Don’t listen to me; that was a low blow.
Diabolical Landscapers with Deep-Seeded Issues
But you, dear brother YOU it seems have a rather large target on your back. My research shows that there’s a substantial expanse of lawn in back of the Graphite County Opera House that you use for parking. How do I know this? Well, it seems that one of your enterprising techies on the Silt Ridge Midnight News has taken to streaming your pre-news tailgate parties and sprawling after-parties on the international satellite network. When, of course, the satellites work.
Don’t Forget about the After-parties
I checked the analytics recently, and there are millions . . . MILLIONS of people tuning in to your tailgate parties and after-parties. Don’t get me wrong, NOBODY watches the midnight news. Those pathetic efforts are abysmal, by the way. But the parties? Wow Morey! You’re scoring some awfully big numbers. Father would be proud. WRONG! He can’t know a thing about this. How would that make his empire look, having a station known for its after-parties more than for the actual newscasts? NICE GOING, dear brother, your incompetence WINS THE DAY YET AGAIN!
One thing I did notice: the parking lot in back of the opera house is grass. I know it gets awfully beat up in the snow, but this is one more place where the Kalabrashions can score boffo points. If I were you, I’d really be on guard about nice people knocking on your door to take care of the lawn out in back. Can you envision the mayhem they can cause if they get the contract and then run roughshod during an after-party? What makes the whole thing worse is the satellite coverage. The WHOLE WORLD would be looking on as they took it to the Crimpanfortis family on their own territory. Oh Morey, even you must be able to see how detrimental such a scenario would be!
Therefore, dear brother, I ask you, I plead with you, I beseech you to please, please, PLEASE heed my warning and take the proper precautions when total strangers knock on the Will-Call Office door and ask to take care of your landscaping needs. REALIZE that you are staring into the eyes of the enemy, and take immediate action that will make the Crimpanfortis family PROUD OF YOU.
Heightened Alert for Smarmy Landscaper Bids
Instead of bombarding me with your constant and useless barrage of weak pitches, I seriously recommend that you focus the majority of your efforts on thwarting the enemy, thus keeping Silt Ridge pure and pristine, and free of the ravages of the cabal of Kalabrashion vultures.
But don’t, and I repeat . . . DO NOT produce a public service announcement warning fellow citizens about the imminent threat posed by the evil pack of landscapers. I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Morey, but if there’s a way that a simple PSA could coalesce into a scalding hot mess, something tells me you would FIGURE OUT A WAY!