The Hungry Ghost

Kids, it happened. Yea, Yea, Yea… I know what you are thinking. (Yes, I do.) “There he goes again, trying to mislead me again.” You are all too hard on me. OK, so maybe I do tell a couple of teeny “tales” now and again. But, is this really reason to completely mistrust in me? I think not! Stick with me on this one. I swear to you, this time, what I am about to say is true! Are you ready?

I took a vacation! Yep, for the first time since my so called “falling out,” I took a vacation! OK, so maybe it was more business than pleasure – at least that is what my lawyers and accountants will be reporting to the IRS. Regardless, I got away from the office and what a wonderful experience it turned out to be.

Sandwiched between touring Italy and checking up on the progress of my Global Warming Project, (which, I am happy to report, is turning out to be a great and measured success – thank you very much) I found the perfect replacement for Limbo: an airline! That’s right; I am going to buy an airline. Take that, Mr. “Limbo Doesn’t Exist!”

The good news is that I will not have to invest large sums of cash to start an airline from scratch. As though a gift from my competitor, an airline named Alitalia is currently available for purchase and based on my recent first-hand experience, the operation and current pool of employees will adjust quite quickly to my brand of management. Don’t roll your eyes! You should really try to trust in me more often. I assure you, I am not as bad as you seem to think. Now, allow me to explain

After waiting in a two-hour line at the ticket counter in a most glamorous place called Newark Airport (note to self, explore options to include an airport with airline purchase) I met a delightful Alitalia employee named Maria Bove-Dalton. A tall, dark woman with vacant black eyes and fleshy lips coated with pink goo, Maria is the owner of two remarkable features – a derrière so wide she could not possibly work onboard the aircraft and an attitude so malevolent it brought a tear to my eye. Kids, the way she treated her customers was marvelous – yelling at them, ignoring them, randomly ordering people to the back of the line – her customers were fuming! The icing on the cake for me was when she took a 15-minute break just as the check-in line was peaking, leaving about 150 people in the lurch and stressing as boarding time closed in. It was priceless. Oh, but I could put her to work in any of my companies in a supervisory position without a second of training!

On board the aircraft, the section they call “coach” was equipped with every lack of comfort imaginable. The space was confined, the recycled air stale, dry and stinking of unwashed bodies, and, contain yourself… it was loaded with children! Screaming, wailing, crying children! No longer will anybody in my company lament the loss of the children in Limbo! Airlines, it seems, are loaded with them. I can barely contain my pleasure. My employees are going to love me; how could they not?

But, wait! There is more!

Maria mistagged everybody’s luggage and sent items meant for Rome to Milan and items meant for Milan to Rome. For four days, the airline struggled to locate and deliver everything, causing great and delicious customer dissatisfaction. If I were in the market for a wife, I’d propose to Maria today!

Oh, and get this – my secretary brought in the newspapers today, and one of the headlines from a New Zealand publication said “Work is Hell at Airline Italians Love to Hate.” I am so excited I feel like touching myself! (But that, we all know is a sin, right? And you think I am the unreasonable one.) Anyway, this is going to be the easiest takeover in the history of takeovers!

Well kids, I would love to spend all day sharing information with you, but alas, I have to go for now to consult with Rupert Murdoch and to prepare a bid and merger plan. First, however, I must intervene in an ongoing dispute with our latest VIP arrival (remember the one from May 15 who thinks he took a wrong turn?) Well, while I was on vacation, I left him in the care of the Sodomites and I just learned that they have been hosting a non-stop event, highlighted by sleepless days and nights filled with endless Cher and Madonna anthems called a “White Party.” I had not planned on my absence being cause for celebration, nor had I planned on the good “Doctor,” as he prefers being called, settling in so quickly. He now refuses to transfer to his final destination, Malebolge, and Popes Nicholas III, Clement V, and Boniface VIII are burning with jealousy over the whole affair. I should have known better; no good deed goes unpunished.

Copyright© 2007 Mark B. Papale All rights reserved