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Dilbert: I've created the world's greatest smartphone. Boss: Wow. This is so amazing that I'll need to kill you so our competitors never learn how to imitate it. Dilbert: Or you could give me a huge bonus. Boss: Okay, sure. I'll have a guy on a motorcycle attach it to your car.
Boss: Consultants say three quintillion bytes of data are created every day. It comes from everywhere. It knows all. According to the book of Wikipedia, it's name is "Big Data." Big Data lives in the cloud. It knows what we do. In the past, our company did many evil things. But if we accept Big Data in our servers, we will be saved from bankruptcy. Let us pay. Alice: Is it too late to side with evil? Dilbert: Shhh! It hears you.
Boss: You're supposed to be cold calling sales prospects. Wally: I am. I'm using a video chat site to randomly meet potential customers. This guy is excited to see me, and that's half of the sales job right here.
Boss: And we're going to bet the company on our new software product. Dilbert: While you were talking, Google created that product, gave it away for free, and killed it for lack of interest. Wally: Is it too soon to take back my fake buy-in?
Coworker: Emergency! I can't find my phone and I"m late for a customer meeting. Dilbert: Maybe it's with your company I.D. badge that you had to drive all the way home for this morning. Alice: It might be with your keys that you lost after lunch. Dilbert: Maybe it's under that critical folder that you couldn't find before your last meeting. Alice: Maybe it's wherever you created your last self-generated crisis. Coworker: I just remembered I put my phone in my purse because the battery is dead. Has anyone seen a small, brown purse?
CEO: Uh-oh. I'm lost and I've wandered into the grimy habitat of an underling. I feel the cold desperation of your drab and meaningless life. I need to roll in money to get the smell off me. Where's the nearest pile?
Boss: Wally, I'd like you to meet the CEO of the company that is our biggest customer. Wally: I'd shake but I have coffee in one hand, my random drug test sample in the other, and I don't want either one to get cold. Hey, I'm not the one who made this awkward.
Dilbert: My experiment proves our reality is a computer program created by aliens. What kind of jerks would yank us around like this? Alien Dilbert: Well, that was gonna happen... Meanwhile on Planet Epsilon-9...
Ratbert: I'm moning for bertcoins. It's a digital currency created by an anonymous genius. Hey, I'm getting an email from a Somali fellow who wants me to open an attachment. What happened to all of my bertcoins? Bob: Digital Somali pirates!
Boss: Wally, this is my brother, Phil, The Prince of Insufficient Light. I asked him to interpret your accomplishments for this quarter. Phil You have 25 alleged accomplishments. Eight of these accomplishments involved simply being on a project team that did something. Nine accomplishments involved fixing problems you created. Five of these are just buzzwords that don't mean anything. And three are duplicates that you reworded to appear different. I'd recommend harvesting his organs, but those probably don't work either. Wally: That's just mean.