The CD Conspiracy...

Well, it has been pretty quiet on the PFY front these last few weeks, probably because the PFY was on vacation. Of course, that never stopped him before from perpetuating one crime or another against our little office, but this time we seem to have been spared any damages.

Yesterday the PFY returned, brown all over like a well roasted almond. When I entered in the morning he was already sitting on a corner of my desk, chewing on my favorite pen, and staring up at the ceiling. A typical posture of the PFY when his mind was devising dastardly plans to destroy the innocent world, I must add.

"Oh, hiya Fainswift. I got an idea."

"I was afraid of that. But first, remove your brummagem posterior from my furniture and stop mauling my beloved writing implement."

"Ok. Look, can I have all the old CDs and DVDs that we've been collecting for the last ten years? You know, the demos and old versions of stuff that we don't have licenses for anymore? Like the whole Kleinweich Distribution of 1993 to today?"

"You want to open a restaurant and use the CDs as trivets?"

"Heh, no, but that would be kind of cool, too. No, I just want to decorate my room a bit..."

"Well, that seems harmless enough. There are a couple of boxes of old media over there. Help yourself," said I waving my hands at the boxes in the corner that I'd been getting ready for the next mass recycling event we have every half year.

"Cool! I'll come get them later, if you don't mind."

"Fine. Now shoo, I have work to do. Blake and Edwards want me to write them up a proposal for a dozen webcams."

So the PFY was decorating his room with old CDs. Probably he planned on building a mobile with them, so they would move gently in the breeze of his snoring. Nothing to worry about there, I thought. No possibility of him getting into trouble doing that. Right?

But noooooo!

This morning I trundled into the office, happy as an oyster in its shell still undisturbed on a coral reef. Pouring myself a good cup of Pu Ehr tea, I settled down to read my morning email and news.

SysAdmin's crew cut head peaked around the corner of my office door.

"Hi Fainswift. Do you know where the latest Kleinweich Distribution is? The Boss said he brought it into your office yesterday afternoon while you were out. He wants me to install the newest patches onto his laptop, like, last week."

"Oh? ," said I, looking around my office, "Well, as you see, no large package or box is to be found anywhere in my tiny alcove of an office. Maybe your assistant came to get it?"

"Nope. Was sick yesterday, and still is. I'll go see if one of the programming guys took it. You know how they just love to get their grubby little cola stained fingers on my Kleinweich Distribution. Talk to you later!" said SysAdmin before he disappeared.

Two minutes later CoderOne poked his three day beard into my office.

"Wassup Fainswift! Boss tells me you got the latest greatest Kleinweich Distribution! There a new version of the best of the best KW-Optical Arena on there that we really want to try out!"

"Ah, my dear CoderOne. I must disappoint you, I do not possess, nor have possessed a package from Kleinweich in the last forty-eight hours."

"Shame! Bet those power hungry admins illegally grabbed it with their coffee stained paws. See you later!" and away CoderOne flew before I could explain that SysAdmin was not the miscreant.

One. Two. Three minutes. Curly haired WebMaven entered my room in her typical catwalk manner.

"Good morning, Mr. Fainswift. I've heard that you've received the latest Kleinweich Distribution. There is apparently a marketing package included on CD for inclusion on our home page."

"Well, well, Miss WebMaven! And how are we today? I'm very sorry, but no such CD has come into my presence. But I can assure you, we already have two eager bloodhounds sniffing out the whereabouts of said missing property. And as soon as they've recovered the stolen goods, I will deliver the CD personally to you."

"Why thank you Mr. Fainswift! That would be splendid! See you soon!" said Webmave, waving goodbye and exiting in the same manner she had entered my office.

So who could the Kleinweich Distribution snatcher be? The Boss himself? Oh well, I had other things to worry about.

"Hi Fainswift! Wanna come see my new sparkly room?"

"Why not. It will get my mind off of all these crazed Kleinweich junkies that have unceasingly been storming my office all morning."

We walked to the PFY's office, all the while the PFY prattling on about his invention to save light and maybe even get a full body sun tan while working. As if he ever did an honest days work. A dishonest days work, perhaps.

Just before he opened the door to his little chubby hole, the PFY slipped a pair of dark industry strength sunglasses on, and offered me a pair, too.

"What's that for?"

"Take it. You'll need it."

"Oh, just open the door and stop foo... Wah! I'm blind!" cried I, throwing my arms up in front of my eyes. Out of the open door shone a light brighter than looking directly at a 300 watt halogen bulb.

"Told you," said the PFY as I fumbled for the sunglasses he was still holding out to me.

After a few moments my eyes readjusted. The PFY's room was plastered with CDs from top to bottom. All four walls, the ceiling and even the floor was completely covered with CDs, the shiny surface up. And because the PFY's office was facing south-east, the morning sun streamed in unabashedly and was reflected thousands of times. It was wonderful!

"You've really done something great, this time, PFY! And I thought you'd never amount to anything. All I need now is a cool pina-colada, an easy chair, and ... Oh no.... How many CDs did you say you used for this crystal chamber of yours?"

"About a hundred per square meter. At approximately eighty square meters, walls, floor and ceiling, that makes out to eight thousand CDs and DVDs, and I used two hundred more to cover my desk with..."

A suspicion started to smuggle itself into my mind alike to a guilty grandmother smuggling sixteen kilograms of finest Swiss milk chocolate into a country where such an import is very heavily taxed.

"Nice. So... Give us a moment... We get four Kleinweich Distributions an year, on the average with two hundred CDs per distribution, and we've been receiving the Kleinweich Distribution without fail since 1993. We always keep the last three distributions in the safe. That gives us, give or take a few CDs, exactly the eight thousand you have here. Where in the name of Groucho Marx did you get the other two hundred CDs for your desk?"

"Ah, your room, like you told me I could..."

"And was nothing strange or unusual about the box or the CDs, such as maybe the year 2004 printed in large, obtrusive letters on them, which even a blind, illiterate mole would have noticed?"

"No, didn't bother to look at them, but there was something strange about the box. I was sure I'd taken them all out of your room, and when I went back later to look for more CDs, I found the last box. On your desk. I kinda thought you'd put it there for me..."

Of course a quarterly Kleinweich Distribution of two hundred CDs is not delivered for free. So the PFY is now paying off a second delivery, that will be delivered shortly directly to me, and only to me, and which will disappear post haste into the CD safe.

I also made the PFY switch offices with me and my tan is coming along nicely, thank you for asking.