Long a fan of The Onion, I pass on the wise words of T. Herman Zweibel, Publisher Emeritus, for your Friday Funny.
Quite disturbed by reports of "the murmur of pleasant conversation and, in many cases, outright laughter among staffers," Herman sets out at once to stifle this "foul cancer known to some pansy-sniffing modern types as High Morale." In the name of cost-cutting, Herman arranages to have the staff and operations of the newspaper relocated to the Yukon. Not that there are real money troubles, of course. As Herman notes: "[O]ur coffers are swollen as ticks, making them too expensive to move; no, they shall stay here with me."
What shocks Herman the most is his staff's response:
Strangely, the first reaction among my writers and editors was frank disbelief. I was loath to accept this could actually be the case. When petitioned to provide for the health of my employees, have I not given them reluctant access to only the most slipshod and bloody-minded quacks ever to be expelled from veterinary school? When asked for raises, have I not said no every year since 1868? And when the employees threatened to unionize, did I not have their children sealed inside a great iron steam-boiler, in which the temperature was raised one degree for every word their jumped-up 'spokesman' uttered in my presence? How could they not believe I would be willing to relocate them to a distant Alaskan territory on a moment's notice? ...
I almost wish I were going my-self, but of course I am staying here, within sight of the Atlantic, where there is decent opera and one can have roast beeves delivered to one's door-step up to an hour after sun-set. None to worry, though, as I do maintain a rustic 40-room cottage in the Yukon wilderness from which the desperate toiling of underlings can be safely glimpsed from a spyglass—indeed, I can think of no better place to spend the holidays.
T. Herman Zweibel may have rose to power at The Onion in the 19th Century, but he seems to fit in just fine with the multinational corporations of today.