SPRINGFIELD, MO - Acknowledging a profound transformation in the market — even with the Independence Day weekend coming up — local scamps Betsy Sue McGillicuddy and Jasper Scruggins today announced that their “Ice-Cold Lemonade, 5 Cents” start-up at the corner of Maple and Main will shift its operational methodologies to AI-forward product development.

During a press conference held at the rickety card table Jasper fetched from out back of his mee-maw’s house, the tow-headed 10-year-olds bemoaned recent events which necessitated their enterprise’s strategic shift.

For starters, Jasper described sudden operating cash flow challenges: “Wellsir, Pastor Hatfield canceled the lemonade order for his July 4th ice cream social an’ done bought a pallet o’ bug juice from that thar local big box store.” Jasper then spit an impressive gob of chaw into a nearby brass cuspidor. Betsy Sue added, “Shucks, that shipment woulda kept us in clover ‘till readin’, writin’, an’ ‘rithmetic started up agin in autumn at our one-room schoolhouse out yonder by the county line.”

Additionally, a much-needed loss prevention program was never implemented, with severe consequences. Jasper recounted, “Mean ol’ Big Judd Crabtree done swiped the cigar box that had our whole month’s scratch inside: a whole 18 bits! American!” Lamented Betsy Sue, “Them simoleons coulda bought me a right fine tea set like I was one of them fancy European girls. Now I gots to cancel my tea party and break the news to Lady Priscilla, my favoritest dolly.” A comforting pat on the shoulder from Jasper was shrugged off by Betsy Sue, who railed, “Oh, how I detest that Big Judd Crabtree! And to think, he’d asked me to go get a sarsaparilla with him down at Doc Widdicombe’s soda fountain, like we was a-courtin’ or somethin’!” Betsy Sue then spit an impressive gob of chaw into the aforementioned cuspidor.

When pressed on their reasons for the move into artificial intelligence, Jasper explained, “My bosom chum Skippy Boudreaux tol’ me there was some mighty fine work to be had integrating advanced machine learning and multi-agent AI into a range of operational modalities, so I figured, what the hoot, I’ll give it a crack.” Betsy Sue added, “When I ain’t practicing my needlepoint, I been bonin’ up on complex neural network implementation and hyperparameter tunin’.”

Despite their short-term disappointment in the bespoke citrus refreshment space, Jasper and Betsy Sue are optimistic about the future. Following a rebrand consultation with their free-spirited bohemian city pal, Ms. Tallulah St. Pierre, their firm will be renamed Murder Hornet Ordnance Logistics. The corporation has already landed a $379 million contract with the Department of Defense to implement machine learning-driven solutions that will increase the efficiency of 5.56×45mm NATO cartridges for the M4 carbine. When asked to comment on this impressive first deal, a spokesperson for Jasper confirmed that the new co-CEO did, in fact, exclaim, “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!”

GUILFORD, CT - An otherwise cordial final group interview at local yarn distributor Fleece In Our Time rapidly came to blows when top candidate Robert “Bobby” Rice revealed his lifelong Red Sox Nation membership to a panel senior executives led by Chief People Officer Aaron Mattingly, an unflinchingly loyal New York Yankees fan.

“Aaron always asks applicants to share a bit about their hobbies as his closing question,” noted an account associate who witnessed the fisticuffs. Shaking her head, she continued, “Rice could have answered with ANYTHING: anime, stamp collecting, golf, Luftwaffe memorabilia.” As he took photos of the devastated conference room for insurance purposes, an office manager added, “I’m just glad they got pulled apart before Aaron got his hands on the signed Thurman Munson bat he keeps in the corner. Otherwise, we’d be talking voluntary manslaughter instead of one negative review on Glassdoor.com.”

The meeting notes revealed where the interview took its violent turn:

Aaron Mattingly (AM): Well, I think we’re all very pleased with what we’ve heard here today, Bobby. Just one more question before we tie this up and put a bow on it.

Bobby Rice (BR): Of course. I can’t wait to start.

AM: We view our colleagues as more than just worker bees and want to get to know them a bit. So, would you mind sharing some of your interests?

BR: Sure! First of all, I’m a huge fan of the Boston Red Sox. Like, for decades.

AM: Huh … I find that surprising. … You seem so intelligent. Candidly, that doesn’t speak well about your judgment.

BR: What’s that supposed to mean? [sneezes “Jeter sucks”]

AM: I think we’re done here. [coughs “Bill Buckner”]

BR: Oh, like you thought you were done going into Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS? Yeah, Big Papi took care of that.

AM: Like Bucky Dent in ‘78 took care of you. And your mother.

The notes recorded that “Mr. Rice then leapt across the conference room table like a feral beast and rained punches down on Mr. Mattingly’s face and neck. Mr. Mattingly responded with ferocious haymakers to the midsection and kidneys. It is unlikely a job offer will be extended.”

In retrospect, both the company and the candidate missed red flags hiding in plain sight:

• The hard copy of Rice’s resume contained a watermark depicting Red Sox icon Ted Williams urinating on Yankee Clipper Joe DiMaggio.

• The firm’s online application form asked, “Do you prefer the Frank Sinatra or Liza Minelli version of ‘Theme from New York, New York’?” (NB: Only the Sinatra version was selectable.)

• Rice should have taken the hint when Mattingly encouraged him to “Talk about corporate leaders who inspire you, like, say, Tim Cook, Sarah Blakely, or the Steinbrenner family.”

• Finally, in response to the online application prompt to “Share a bad business decision you learned from,” other applicants replied with a brief paragraph about the Edsel, or New Coke, or Kodak not adopting to digital, or the AOL/Time Warner merger. Rice, however, wrote a vituperative, profanity-laced 9,000-word screed about “the f***ing boneheaded dumb-*sses in the Sox’s criminally f***ing stupid front office who traded generational f***ing player and MVP Mookie f***ing Betts to the god-d*** motherf****** Los Angeles f***ing Dodgers. F*** ME!”

Despite this traumatic incident, Fleece In Our Time management firmly believes the corporate culture will emerge better and stronger from the experience.

However, going forward, all interviewers will adhere to an innocuous, predetermined set of questions which focus on politics, religion, sex, and the Middle East.

Your weekend is nigh.

Rest. Joy. Palpable. And yet,

Boss calls Saturday.

LEHIGH, PA - Two-plus years into a fruitless search for full-time employment, 48 year-old Rodney Fishblatt — or, per the Preferred Name field in his 650+ job applications, “Bruce Wayne” — continues to maintain that his personal brand is Gotham City’s Caped Crusader.

In an exclusive interview conducted in his “Batcave” subterranean center of operations, Fishblatt/Wayne elucidated, “Ever since my parents Thomas and Martha were ruthlessly murdered before my eyes when I was a boy, I have vowed to marshal my considerable abilities and resources not only to avenge them, but to drive revenue growth across multiple cross-functional enterprise verticals while optimizing conversion funnels and aligning creation of zero-defect deliverables.”

Fishblatt’s parents, Yetta and Maury, who are very much alive and in whose basement Rodney currently resides, refer to their son as “Bat-meshugenah,” blaming his lack of actual prospects on years of pointless professional development “drek.”

Rodney/Bruce concedes that he did immerse himself in a litany of career coaching conferences, training webinars, Meyers-Briggs analyses, and personality assessments. “And” he asserts, “all of them clearly indicate that I am The Dark Knight.” He then rang a small silver bell sitting atop his Craigslist-sourced SMÅGÖRA desk from IKEA, indicating that “Alfred will be down momentarily with some light refreshments.” Immediately from upstairs, his mother hollered, “Oy, for the last time, Rodney, I am NOT the maid!”

A senior recruiter at Crothers & Scatman Placement Services confirmed that Fishblatt/Wayne/Batman has been a candidate for several roles the firm represents: “Something about him made me think he was worth a chat. Maybe because his application listed ‘The Bat Signal’ as his preferred method of contact. And I thought using a Discord username was cutting-edge.”

Seasoned executive Philip “Biff” Philippoussis, with whom Fishblatt/Wayne/Batman interviewed last week for an Associate Program Manager position, shared his impression: “When I asked him to describe his collaboration style, he went on about something called ‘The Justice League.’ But then he said his salary requirements were zero because — and I’ll never forget this — ‘My compensation in the knowledge that Gotham’s streets are free from fear.’” Wide-eyed at this revelation, Philippoussis continued, “Given how nutso Finance has been about headcount, that sealed the deal. He can start just as soon as I follow up on his reference, some co-worker named ‘Robin, The Boy Wonder.’”

Fishblatt/Wayne/Batman has already asked for the first week in July off: “The Joker is planning something big for Independence Day. But not on my watch.”

EVERYTOWN, USA - With muted-yet-simultaneously-cacophonous sighs of resignation, Dads from sea to shining sea shut off their alarms, dragged the desiccated husks of their once-sharp minds and formerly-taut bodies from a fitful night’s sleep (none dare call it “rest”), and shuffled off to another Father’s-Day-erasing Monday.

Chirpy, wholly misguided greetings of “How was your big day, Pete?” and “Got treated like a king, amirite, Dave?” were met with blank stares as time-sucking first-thing stand-ups and inboxes overflowing with inanities demanded attention. “I dunno. What do YOU think?” muttered world-weary patriarchs, whose prior 24 hours were spent, as they have been for time immemorial:

• Participating in and/or viewing sporting event(s), many of which involved some sort of ball

• Ingesting fire-grilled protein(s) paired with deep-fried carbohydrates

• Quaffing domestic beer(s) of choice

These moments disappeared with every sip of tepid, criminally flavorless pod coffee under the break room’s flickering fluorescent bulbs.

And yet, they soldiered on.

Said local patriarch Travis Branzino, “Look, the chocolate-chip pancake stack/three-over-easy/extra-crispy bacon combo at the diner was real nice. Spending time in the backyard with my boys Gunner and Stryker might make for nice memories. Might. But all that went out the window at 8:30 AM sharp today, thank-you-very-much Accounts Receivable department at Argus MicroPlane Thermodynamics and my ‘fantastic’ boss, Rodney. And by ‘fantastic,’ I meant ‘not fantastic,’” Branzino added by way of clarification. Across town, even hand-crafted “I Love You, Papa” construction paper cards affixed to cubicle walls brought no joy, what with Kristie from Payroll hovering like The Angel of Death.

Replied the nation’s mothers: “Want some cheese to go with that whine? Welcome to our world, crybabies. Now grab me that jar of marinara from the top shelf.”

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION, WY — Speaking before a buoyant town hall at the headquarters-slash-lair of Smiling Rainbow Totally Benign Energy Solution Friends — formerly Schicklgruber Oil & Carcinogens — Executive Vice President of Corporate Social Irresponsibility (CSI) Brayden “Buddy” Infarct announced his division “surpassed $34 billion in Q1 profits, thanks to the bad work of the very people in this room.” Standing atop the company’s famed mound of bison skulls, Infarct added, “That record high is as fiscally meaningful as it is morally indefensible. And we couldn’t be prouder.”

A sizzle reel directed by Roman Polanski highlighted CSI’s revenue-generating endeavors including…

• $9 billion from the February countersuit victory against “the tree huggers from the World Affection Action Alliance (WAAA).” Special praise went to Smiling Rainbow General Counsel Missy Borgia who persuasively explained there was no way to conclusively prove the “‘light dusting’ of our military-grade toxic compounds” had anything to do with local children growing hair on their eyeballs. As Missy compellingly fulminated in her closing argument, “Kids get into all sorts of mischief, right? Right?!”

• $3 billion from our enterprise-wide initiative, DEIS - Do Everything in the Interest of our Shareholders. Chief Investment Officer Morgana Corundum shared the program’s mission: “Once we look past settled case law, federal and state regulations, standards of decency, concern for our fellow humans, and ‘doing the right thing’ - whatever that is - the revenue-generating possibilities are endless. I will not be taking any questions.”

• $5 billion, with potential for 12x over the 5 years, from the bountiful new source of light sweet crude off the coast of Outer Hamartia. Per Vice President of Special Government Operations [First Name Redacted] [Last Name Redacted], “We had been trying to get into that market for decades. Thanks to the recent, coincidental, and mostly bloodless coup against their pesky left-of-center parliamentary democracy, drilling can begin immediately. We look forward to a long and fruitful partnership with the junta of Most Fearsome Warlord-For-Life Ivan ‘Buddy’ Kranng.”

As the event concluded, employees were reminded to strew their Styrofoam plates and plastic straws anywhere they liked and to vote in their local elections for Chief Dog Catcher.

Citing its dizzying amalgam of inventive fabulism, swirling imagination, and bald-faced fabrication, the Pulitzer committee today awarded its Prize for Fiction to Hailee Rybelsus for her seminal work, “HaileeResume_FinalVersion_Revised_New_3.pdf.”

In its commendation, committee chair Iphigenia Rosenberg gushed, “This triumph of the fantastical woven into the everyday is reminiscent of a Borges or Murakami. When the author writes “Generated explosive month-over-month revenue growth for high-profile national enterprise” as allegory for selling Girl Scout cookies in Schleiderman’s Grocery’s parking lot 17 years back, she challenges the very notion of reality. Is she a ‘Seasoned Senior Regional Account Executive’ that Placentia Financial Services Group needs to hire immediately? Or a lazy second grader who let Brittani Mancuso and her mom do all the work with the Thin Mints? I do not know. And I could not help but be moved.”

Committee member and Booker Prize short-list candidate Evangeline LeBrontosaurus concurred: “Hailee Rybelsus gives us much to ponder deeply: As she elegantly composed, she ‘Spearheaded end-to-end deployment of enterprise-grade SaaS solutions for top-tier European Union member nations.’ What a stunning transformation of her semester abroad in Florence where she slept in, blew off her Renaissance sculpture lectures, snarfed Pappardelle al Cinghiale, and hooked up with a mid-fielder from the Croatian junior national team. The mystery is the medium is the message.”

Marveled Columbia Graduate School of Journalism visiting lecturer Ivor Grog, “Rybelsus lists ‘Expert-Level Skills in Python, Java, JavaScript, HTML, CSS, R, C++, SQL, Oracle, MySQL and IBM DB2,’ but she just pastes code into GitHub Copilot or sub-contracts for rupees on the dollar to Bengaluru! With all due respect, Philip Roth wished he had that sort of ingenuity.”

That evening, the Pulitzer Prize Board’s Gala highlighted the Breaking News Photography winner’s searing images which helped end internecine strife in sub-Saharan Africa, selections from the Music awardee’s politically-charged EDM opera that has “redefined the very concept of sound,” and Rybelsus, who handed out copies of her wide-margined, double-sided page to anyone within 25 yards of her cocktail table. The floor around it was strewn with these same copies.

When asked for a hint about her follow-up opus, Rybelsus smiled coyly and confided, “I’m workshopping a cover letter for a CEO gig. It will not disappoint.”

She then directed any further inquiries to her recently hired publicist, George Santos.

Welcomed as a leading indicator that will herald a boon for C-suites occupants everywhere, the Executive Compensation Committee at InifinitiArts Global Media & Heavy Machinery (f/k/a Flaegelman & Minsky Parking Garages) today delivered their “unconditional capitulation to whatever the bosses’ pay demands are. Plus, let’s say, another $50 million. Each.”

According to the Memorandum of Utterly Justified Remuneration, the conglomerate’s Chief Executive, Operating, Financial, Marketing, Technology, Information, and Compliance Officers will each simply “name their price, no questions asked.” Platinum-plated rubber stamps have been fashioned to streamline the inevitable salary approvals. (Chief Empathy Officer Patsy Maginot was removed from the Memorandum after she blurted out some nonsense about “fairness.”)

Deriding the company as “obscenely over-leveraged, like, Caligula-level-obscene,” outraged corporate governance activists were quick to point out that this very same senior leadership team has presided over…

• An 88% drop in the firm’s market capitalization since the 2025 tie-up of a once-healthy broadcast television network, an 80’s era cartridge video game company, a past-its-prime radio and billboard concern, its original parking lot business, and a respected industrial fertilizer operation

• Elimination of 12,000+ positions that decimated centuries of institutional knowledge, including “Helpful Carl” in Tech Support, who was about to retire

• Casting a documented serial killer for hit reality program “Who’s Coming to Babysit?”

• Intense regulatory scrutiny of suspicious crypto-based wagering app UBettorUBet which, somehow, also knocked out power grids in Houston, Jakarta, and Amsterdam (and that “Helpful Carl” could have done something about)

Company spokesman Marshall Petain brushed off these concerns, noting “Shareholders expect leaders to be rewarded, amiright? Or do you just hate America?” When asked if he could offer any words of comfort for the thousands whose positions were eliminated, Petain quipped, “Guess you won’t be around to complain anymore about how much the boss is making, amiright?”

At close of business, the Executive Compensation Committee’s Sub-Committee On Executive Compensation Committee Compensation approved a $3 million bonus for each Executive Compensation Committee member.

BASKING RIDGE, NJ - Declaring “My colleagues’ well-being is of far greater import than adding that third runway to my private airport in Gstaad,” chief executive Croesus “Chip” Dubonnet today instructed the Executive Compensation Committee of healthcare giant The Femur Group to retract his stock grants and reduce his annual salary to align with the hourly wage of in-office barista Kayla Erasmus. Consequently, a planned layoff of 8,500 Femur Group employees was shelved and Therapy Kitten Friday was reinstated.

Dubonnet also terminated top-tier management consulting firm Bane & Venal, which had recommended a massive workforce reduction despite Femur Group’s 29 consecutive quarters of strong earnings growth. Citing Bane & Venal’s “value-added organizational redesign strategic action plan,” a chastened Dubonnet apologized “for ever allowing those rapacious, jargon-spewing charlatans to set foot inside our walls.” He will redirect Bane & Venal’s $79 million dollar advisory fee plus all proceeds from the corporate malpractice lawsuit against them to fully fund a childcare center and after-hours teen enrichment program “to help our hard-working parents.” Additionally, five Bane & Venal managing partners provisionally tapped to become Femur C-suite executives were instead tarred and feathered in the parking lot.

In a town hall to discuss Dubonnet’s announcement, every employee was thanked not with a T-shirt but rather $1,000 in cash. (Remote employees’ cash was individually hand-delivered inside boxes of warm, fresh-baked brownies.) At the all-hands, Femur senior management arrived on time, used plain English to honestly answer tough audience questions about the company’s direction and the possibility of future layoffs, then concluded with the proclamation of meaningful promotions for individual contributors who were truly deserving.

Dubonnet has promised a follow-up gathering which will cover company-paid gym memberships, full tuition reimbursements, a free gourmet cafeteria, and guaranteed 85% raises.

It is scheduled for one year from today.

BAR HARBOR, ME — At the conclusion of his annual performance review during which 39 flesh-splitting lashes were savagely yet meticulously administered to his back and buttocks since he merely “Met Expectations” in Workspace Tidiness, seasoned data analyst Alfred Plantagenet conceded that “there’s been a change in the vibe” at Advanced Aquadyne Logistics.

“I’ve been at AAL for must be 11-plus years now,” said Plantagenet, “and we’re like family: cupcake parties, book groups, the occasional kidney donation. But family can also let you down, like when I didn’t stack those binder clip boxes evenly on my desk. I’ll own that. But should they have gone straight to the cat-o’-nine tails instead of, say, a verbal warning first? You’d have to ask them.” Wincing in obvious agony, Plantagenet nonetheless continued chipperly, “Still, can’t wait to see everyone at the Fun In The Sun company picnic. I’ll just need to cover up. My welts are still healing.”

As she brandished her fearsome whip nicknamed “The Motivator,” latex bodysuit-clad Senior Manager of Personnel and Alternative Incentivization Catherine Wheele confirmed the office culture modifications. Pausing momentarily to flash a smile from her surgically sharpened cuspids, Wheele, a/k/a “Mistress Thrash,” explained: “AAL has implemented a new paradigm in team appraisal protocols to align with the enterprise-wide separation of The Unworthy from The Select.” Gesturing to the firm’s lobby, she continued, “As such, a hand-crafted medieval rack inspired by ‘The Duke of Exeter’s daughter’ in the Tower of London has replaced our foosball table. Additionally, morale-boosting thumbscrews will be available for checkout from Brenda at reception.” Added Plantagenet’s scarlet-hooded manager, Assistant Director of Data Analysis Melvin Steinberg (a/k/a “Master Lick”), “If my direct reports can’t take constructive corporal punishment, how can we expect to hit our KPI’s and become top 10 in the fluid pressure measurement device consultancy space?”

A group of Plantagenet’s fellow data analysts nodded vigorously in agreement with their supervisor, then returned to their cubicles. Their mute nodding was later explained as a result of their tongues being torn out during a recent team-building retreat at the local SnugNight Inn & Suites & Dungeon.

CONEWANGO, NY - The Cattaraugus County Matrimonial Center of the New York State Supreme Court has ruled in favor of Office Wife Evelyn Au Poivre in her irreconcilable differences filing against her male counterpart, Heracles Sinjin-Smyth.

Cannon-balling Scrooge McDuck-like into the above-ground pool filled with the just-cashed settlement check from their just-bankrupted employer, Thetatron Integrated Logistics, Au Proivre revealed, “Heracles and I reached a point where there was nothing left. I mean, other than the 47 mill.”

Sinjin-Smyth reflected, “Yes, things did change. And that’s on me. Look, Evelyn was a spouse every desk jockey dreams of. She’d back me up when I’d say Q2 receivables wouldn’t cover expenditures. Or shoot me a raised eyebrow when Rhonda used ‘there’ instead of “their” in a deck. And we’d always, always talk about the latest cringey thing Gene from Purchasing said at the 11 AM stand-up.” Absent-mindedly peeling the label from an O’Doul’s he was nursing, Sinjin-Smyth wistfully recalled, “Yeah, Evelyn and I were committed life partners from 9-to-5 Tuesdays through Thursdays.”

As she clumsily attempted a backstroke in her bales of cash, Au Poivre shared, “I still don’t know what happened. I mean, during our honeymoon period, we’d pop down to Consigliere’s Coffees & Scones. Shoot the breeze about our workload, the new parking cards, if we’d return to office all five days. You know, the usual components of a strong Office Marriage.”

A review of Au Poivre’s deposition revealed where the couple’s paths may have diverged: “About three months ago, I detected a change. Heracles emailed ‘On a deadline for Mitch and Murray’ when I asked if he was going to the Arbor Day Potluck. Then, it was the ‘Watching my weight, so no more scones for me’ text. Excuse after excuse. From a guy who couldn’t wait to get out of his cubicle.”

Per the deposition transcript, she reached for a box of tissues and continued, “The last time we grabbed a meal, he just scrolled in silence on his Samsung Galaxy S25 … why do I even know his cell phone’s model number? … Anyway, not a peep from him. And this was after Gene from Purchasing blurted out ‘Let the girls in PR handle that.’ ‘The girls’?! To the female SVP of MarCom! I mean, if we couldn’t get a good long lunch out of that… I’m, I’m sorry …” Au Poivre’s attorney then asked for a 15-minute break “so his client could gather herself.”

In a follow-up several weeks after his initial interview, Sinjin-Smyth emailed, “People grow apart. It’s really no one’s fault. I wish Evelyn all the best.” Added Tallulah Sinjin-Smyth, his real-life wife, “Truth be told, I was glad he had a work pal. And,” she chuckled, “even more glad that he wasn’t shtupping her.”

Asked for further comment, Mr. Sinjin-Smyth directed all future inquiries to his assistant, Candi Von Thong, who he is shtupping.

How ya doin’?

It’s Daylight Saving Time.

Ol’ Mister Spring Ahead. Circadian Rhythm’s Sauron. Notorious DST!

Back again like clockwork. (BOOM! Pun intended. You’re welcome.)

I gotta say, I’m disappointed in all a youse.

Every year with the bellyaching: “I miss my extra hour of sleep! Waaaaa!”

Boo-friggin’-hoo. I’ll give ya something to cry about. Like this, whiners: You’ll make up your precious Z’s that first week you’re dead.

Oh? Wait? What’s that?

The dirt nap puts things in perspective, don’t it? I thought so. You’re welcome.

Just accept me along with death, taxes, and more Final Destination sequels. Not really “final,” Hollywood. Just sayin’.

And Hawaii and most of Arizona? Youse can go your own way. I respect your stones.

Another thing: Lay off the farmers. DST ain’t on them. They’re hard-working Americans who make them clean vegan yuzu plant-based Benedict matcha protein bowls of yours possible.

If you got beef (or soyrizo, whatever the hell that is), it’s with me.

But like a wise guy once said, “Frankie, my dear, who gives a damn.”

Enjoy the sunshine, kids.

See ya March 14, 2027.