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Mobeer -> Meus operations (2/28/2012 7:31:57 PM)
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Complaints, all I hear are complaints
The Meus chairman reclined in his new leather executive chair. Gone were the days of living hand to mouth, gone were days of sitting on cheap, nasty plastic stools. The chairman's beloved cat, Keith, sat on his lap, meowing softly as the chairman stroked his fur.
Keith knew better to sleep, for when he slept, he purred. Purring was simply not acceptable to a company called Meus, and Keith knew it. Three previous trips to the feline re-education centre had taught Keith well. Keith waited, laying still, for the inevitable shove. When it came it was gentle and highly evolved reflexes saw Keith land neatly on the carpet.
The chairman leant forward, studying his PC screen. The pictures were fuzzy, but the text in the Ebay ad was clear. "Do you love the Tupolev Tu-114? If so, lease this plane NOW!". The chairman had leased the plane, along with 11 more of this type. Somehow though, only this one particular plane was causing an avalanche of complaints. Maintenance crews complained parts did not fit; they obviously wanted wages closer to the industry average. Customers complained about the interior being cramped, which the chairman would soon fix. Come Refit Day, he would demonstrate his interior design skills and make everything wonderful.
Keith circled quietly, unnoticed. He was no panther or tiger, but he knew the leather was always thinnest at the rear. Stretching up, claws extended, he began to redesign the executive chair.
Refit Day
[technically refit instant]
The chairman finally smiled. Signing a $2.4m cheque had not helped his mood this morning, but as he gazed upon a line of 12 airliner noses, all surrounded by the sound of change, he could not help but smile just a little. The chairman turned and walked along the side of the nearest plane. The paint scheme was a little child-ish, but even this could not take away from the sight. Perhaps 12 Comets would be better, but this was enough. The chairman looked up at the tail high above him, and along the line of 11 tailplanes.
Eleven?
Years of watching Sesame Street now kicked in, as the Chairman's mathematical skills were stretched.
Definitely 11.
The chairman hurried along the line, counting with his fingers as he went. He knew he would have to remove his shoes and socks in public, but he no longer cared. Finally he stopped, in front of a mound of new and unused seats and TVs. Looking to the left, his heart sank. This plane did at least have a tail, but the short fuselage had meant it was hidden from sight. Not only was the fuselage short, everything else was small too.
Later...
Keith hid silently in the darkest corner of the room. He could see the chairman shaking almost uncontrollably whilst signing a cheque for $6.2m. The leasing company agent snatched the cheque and walked away, himself trying not the smile as the TU-104 went back to its owners. As the chairman sat in silence, Keith's gaze wandered lower, to the plastic stool on which the chairman sat. Involuntarily, Keith began to purr.
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