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Dogbert says to several people wearing only towels, "Thank you all for coming to Dogbert's 'New Age Mineral Water Spa.'" Dogbert continues, "After your chowder bath therapy, I will be channeling the spirit of Jackie Mason in ballroom 'B.'" Dilbert says, "He's not dead." Dogbert replies, "Then I'll talk to his career."
The caption says, "The three stages of grief; denial." Dogbert sits on his pillow thinking, "No . . . Dilbert can't be dead." The caption says, "Anger." Dogbert stands on his pillow and thinks, "I'll kill the scum who did it!" The caption says, "Economics." Dogbert says into the phone, "No expensive caskets. Just wrap him in newspapers; he would have wanted it that way."
Dogbert sits on his pillow thinking, "Ugh . . . Gosh, what a nightmare." Dogbert says to Bob the Dinosaur, "Bob, I just dreamed Dilbert was killed by deer, and all he left me was his recipe for chile con carne." Bob says, "Bad news . . ." Dogbert asks, "He's really dead?" Bob replies, "And his chile con carne stinks."
Dilbert stands in front of the Boss's desk and says, "Boss, I have an idea." The Boss gasps. The Boss jumps up and says, "Quick! Close the blinds! I'll get the door!" The Boss shouts, "You fool! If anybody heard you, we're both dead!" The Boss continues, "Don't you realize that ideas are just targets for other power-hungry managers?!!" The Boss continues, "I've based my entire career on shooting down other people's ideas." A brick crashes through the window. Dilbert picks it up and says, "The note says, 'We know you have an idea in there. Give it up.'" Dilbert arrives at home wearing disheveled clothes and bent glasses. Dogbert asks, "How was work?" Dilbert replies, "Same ol' same ol'."
Dilbert sits at his desk and says to Dogbert, "I heard you closed your school for self-service gas station attendants." Dogbert says, "It didn't work out." Dogbert continues, "I was teaching the section on refolding maps . . . Frustrations were high . . . At first, the paper cuts were minor, but panic swept the room." Dilbert asks, "Well, how bad could . . ." Dogbert says, "They're all dead . . ."
Dilbert and a woman sit at a table in a restaurant. Dilbert says, I know it's only our first date, but what do you think of me?" The woman replies, "You remind me of Elvis." Dilbert thinks, "Sexy." The woman thinks, "Dead."
The Boss: It's going to be another year of flogging dead horses. But somehow we'll muddle through our internal bureaucracy, gouge our customers, and keep getting our tiny paychecks. Dilbert: Sir, Wilson turned into a clump of uninspired sod. The Boss: It's just as well; he had a bad attitude.
Dilbert arrives at home with food stuck to his suit. Dogbert asks, "How was your lunch with the executive vice president?" Dilbert sits in his chair and says, "Everything was fine until the food fight. He started throwing au gratin potatoes . . . I countered with an ear of corn to his head and ran for the exit." Dilbert covers his eyes and says, "When I left, he was face-down in the clam chowder and the kitchen staff was singing 'ding-dong the witch is dead.'"
The Boss tells Dilbert and several co-workers, "I've hired a consultant to clarify our company policy on discrimination." Dogbert says, "It is against policy to discriminate based on race, sex, age, handicap or religion." A man raises his hand and asks, "Does that include unpopular, little religions?" Dogbert replies, "No, those are considered cults; you may discriminate freely against them." A woman raises her hand and asks, "What about short, bald, fat, ugly men? Are they considered 'handicapped'?" Dogbert replies, "Technically, no. You can still tease them and deny them promotions as usual." Dogbert continues, "Likewise, you may discriminate against nerds, smokers, and single people." Dogbert continues, "And we've dropped 'stupid people' from the watch list, as their lobbying efforts proved ineffective . . ."