Help Desk Comic Strips
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A bald man says into the telephone, "Hello, is this the 'Help Desk'?" Dogbert wears a headset and sits at a computer. He replies, "No, that group got reengineered out of existence." Dogbert continues, "I'm the new 'No Help Whatsoever Desk.' My job is to make sure you never call again." The man asks, "Can you tell me how to make a pie chart?" Dogbert replies, "Crush your computer into small chunks, add flour and bake one hour." Dogbert continues, "While you're waiting, read the free novel we sent you. It's a Spanish story about a guy named 'Manual.'" Dogbert continues, "Repeat the process until you get the desired result." The man sits next to an oven reading an instruction manual. He thinks, "This lost a LOT in the translation."
Dogbert stands on a desk chair typing. Dilbert looks over his shoulder and asks, "What are you writing?" Dogbert replies, "It's my new self-help book for compulsive shoppers." Dilbert asks, "What do YOU know about compulsive shoppers?" Dogbert replies, "I know they buy a lot of books."
Dilbert kneels in front of Floyd's desk. Floyd yells, "What?! You think I'll help you just because I'm your co-worker?? Ha! I hate co-workers!" Dilbert begs, "All I need is . . ." Floyd yells, "I hate this job! I hate everything! The only thing I like is being mean to co-workers who need the vital information that I control!" Dilbert's underwear has been streched over his head. Another man with a wedgie says, "If you think YOU hate him, you should try being his secretary."
The Boss: "I want you to help me upgrade the computer in my office." Dilbert: "The computer in your office is a cardboard prop that came with your desk." The Boss: "So, I need a new motherboard, right?" Dilbert: "No, you need a new desk."
Dogbert sits at a desk under a sign that says, "Tax Preparation $5.00." A man enters the office and says, "I need some help . . ." Dogbert says, "Sit down." The man says, "I always fooled around during math classes. Now I can't do my own taxes." Dogbert looks at the form and says, "We can prattle about your inadequacies later." Dogbert says as he fills out the form, "I'll do your taxes and talk at the same time so you really feel dumb." Dogbert continues, "Hmm . . . Simply multiply the standard deviation of the cosine of your depreciation and integrate the resulting polynomial . . . There." Dogbert continues, "According to this, you owe your tax preparer an additional two thousand dollars." A pile of money sits on Dogbert's desk. Dogbert says to the reader, "Confusion - it works for the IRS and it can work for you."
Dilbert arrives at home carrying a briefcase. Dogbert sits on the armrest of the chair. Dilbert says, "I need your help, Dogbert." Dilbert carries Dogbert to the desk as he explains, "My company is downsizing. They told us to write our own job requirements then reapply for our jobs." Dogbert asks, "Why do you want to keep working for such a lame company?" Dilbert quips, "Loyalty!" Dilbert and Dogbert laugh. Dogbert says, "Good one." Dogbert says, "Okay. You must write your job requirements so you are the only one on earth who fits." Dilbert replies, "Right." Dogbert dictates, "The candidate must have six years experience sitting in a big box being micromanaged by a nitwit." Dilbert adds, "The candidate must have a festering cynicism and an acquired fear of action." Dogbert says, "Good." Dilbert says, "That narrows it to ten thousand employees." Dogbert says, "We'll have to focus on your physical abnormalities."
The Boss approaches Carol at her desk and says, "Carol, I'm sending you to an executive bodyguard class." The Boss continues, "You'll learn how to pounce on a kidnapper and sacrifice yourself to keep me safe." Carol responds, "I'm taking a class called, 'inside help.'" The Boss says, "I can't reimburse for that."