AT the trade show....
Dilbert: Uh-oh. A vendor is scanning me.
Dilbert: Im caught in a tractor beam! red alert! red alert!
Losing life support systems
Man: ...and I can even calculate fractions!
The Boss holds a syringe. He says to Dilbert, "Drop your trousers and turn around. I need a DNA sample." Dilbert bends over looking angry. As draws Dilbert's blood, the Boss says, "We're scanning for any fatal genetic problems that could hurt productivity." Dilbert sits at his desk. The Boss enters holding the test results and says, "Uh . . . we decided to move your project deadline up a week." Dilbert's hair stands up straight.
Dilbert: The electronic suggestion box project is halfway done. The original design called for a bos that scans and digitizes suggestions written on paper and emails them to the appropriate manager. Then the device shreds the original paper suggestion to make room for more. I already built the box and the shredder. I'll need additional funding to finish the scanning part. Boss: We don't have any flexibility in our budget. Let's just deploy what you have. Dilbert: All I have is a box that shreds suggestions before anyone reads them. Boss: Don't let perfect be the enemy of good.
