Meanwhile at the summer barbecue.

“Kevin, I commend you on your decision to hold a barbecue for the department at your expense.” Charles stood next to Kevin while nibbling on a hot dog.

“Not a problem,” Kevin grinned as he worked on a batch of hamburgers and hot dogs at the grill. “I know we’ve been through a lot lately with all the problems with the network but I just wanted to throw this thing together as a token of my appreciation for all your hard work.”

Charles nodded. “A very nice gesture on your part. And that’s certainly a nice propane grill for cooking.”

“Thanks, I bought it just for the occasion,” Kevin beamed.

“Not to get on your case or anything but I hope you don’t mind my offering a small suggestion,” Charles said.

Kevin looked up with interest. “Sure, what did you have in mind?”

“The next time we have a department barbecue, I think we should have it-”

Suddenly a huge explosion tore the building apart and sent employees flying in all directions. Charles and Kevin too were launched in flight side by side and nonchalantly looked downward to watch their distance increase above the ground.

“Oh, I get it,” Kevin said. “We should’ve had this outside.”

Charles nodded in agreement. “Exactly. And Kevin, for your sake and ours, I hope we hit the water when we land.”

Ballpeach Video Game Posse Newsletter #32.

Greetings video game fanatics:

Welcome to another edition of the Ballpeach Video Game Posse Newsletter. You may have heard rumors of the Posse getting ready to break up and unfortunately, those rumors are absolutely true. This has not been a good year for us and if things don’t turn around soon, this could very well be the last newsletter.

Despite our best efforts, video arcades across our area continue to disappear at a startling rate, leaving us with virtually no place to hang out and spend the day playing video games.

To add to the bad news, Gator was expelled from the Posse last week following his arrest for making bomb threats against the newly opened Ballpeach Outlets because there is no video arcade there. Gator had called in the bomb threat while seated at a table in the food court at the Outlets and was arrested seconds later by police officers who were seated at the table next to him. I don’t think we’re witnessing a brilliant criminal mind at work here.

Anyway, Gator had been with the Posse since it began in 1995 and it is very heartbreaking for us to part with him like this. Because of his actions, our image as a group of fun-loving, diehard video game fanatics has been tarnished and we are now seen as a violent street gang. This is one of the reasons why we are considering disbanding the Posse, no thanks to Gator. In retaliation for his actions, I have no choice but to publish his real name here, which is Scott Johnson, along with his Very Embarrassing Secret that he is an unemployed 45-year old virgin who still lives with his parents.

Yes, we are upset that the Ballpeach Mall was demolished and yes, we are upset that the new Ballpeach Outlets has no video arcade, but this is no reason to resort to violence. Anyone who chooses to go down the same path as Scott will also be expelled and humiliated.

These are trying times and we need to stay strong. We will prevail, provided we stay civilized and polite.

Winter

SO WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?
A PosseProbe researched and written by Cool

Back in 1995 when the Ballpeach Video Game Posse was formed, video arcades were abundant. It seemed every major shopping center in our area had a place to play video games and we made it our mission to make sure these arcades stayed in business by frequenting them with our patronage and our quarters.

Our favorite place to hang out was the Game Cavern at the Ballpeach Mall. It was very close to where we lived and had all our favorite games, plus we got to know the owner whom we fondly knew as Caveman. He was the one who ordered the video games we enjoyed playing and went out of his way to make us happy.

When business at the Ballpeach Mall began to deteriorate and stores began to close, Caveman too began to struggle and had to sell some of his games, including our favorites, in spite of our protests. Then the following week, when we returned to spend the day at the arcade, Game Cavern was gone and in its place was Hassan’s Jewelry And Luggage. Just like that, gone, and without Caveman telling us. We have not heard from him since and it doesn’t matter now as we no longer consider him a friend as hinted by his betrayal.

Since that day we have been struggling to find other places to hang out but they too have been disappearing. Only a few places remain, and although the selection of games is minimal, they remain in business as they have over the years. I list these places here.

  • WASH ‘N’ GO – A coin-operated laundromat just down the street on Ballpeach Bakes Voulebard. They do have video games there including some of our favorites. It may not be much but it’s better than nothing.
  • BALLPEACH LANES – This bowling alley has been in business for over 35 years and has a small arcade there along with some pinball machines. Again, there is not much here but enough to satisfy our arcade cravings.
  • MOZZ A. RELLA – This place may be for kids but it has by far the largest arcade in the area along with games that dispense tickets for prizes. This is our best bet to hang out.
  • SLACKERS – This is the largest arcade in the region but unfortunately it’s a 30 mile drive from where we live. If we all chip in on public transportation then we’ve got ourselves a new home.
  • VIDEO GAME LAND – The mother of all arcades with four floors of video game fun. Of course, we have to pay to get in and the 200-mile drive can be exhausting but once we get there, the fun pays for itself every time.

This is not a complete list but it should still give you an idea of what’s still out there. The old days of video arcades may be gone but these places will help keep their memories alive.

Following are some of your comments in response to the above article after it was posted on our MyFace page.

READER COMMENTS

wtf dude, a laundromat??? yeah, id love to play galaga next to a washing machine full of dirty underpants

not sure about the bowling alley, its so smoky you cant even see the screen

Mozz. A. Rella is a BAD choice. There’s some guy who wanders around the restaurant dressed in a costume that’s supposed to resemble melted mozzarella cheese but instead looks like a hideous white blob. It scares the living daylights out of everyone, every time. Now you know why every time we pass that place, there are people running across the parking lot.

dont ever use the words “public transportation” in a future articel again or i will kick your as with a rusty boop

Hey guys, it’s Caveman, sorry if I abandoned everyone but Hassan insisted on buying Game Cavern, he said if I didn’t sell to him he would give me the Vulcan Handshake, he said there was a deleted scene in one of the Star Trek movies where Mr. Spock made one of the bad guys explode using the Vulcan Handshake, not sure if that’s true or not but I just didn’t want to take any chances, anyway I’ve opened up a new place called Fun Cavern with some bounce houses and yes, a few video games, you guys are welcome to stop by anytime, would love to see you all again.
[I went undercover and visited the Fun Cavern while in disguise and was sadly disappointed. Caveman has three large bounce houses aside from one that exploded when some fat kid took a flying leap. Video gamewise, he only has 5 old games that barely work with missing buttons and screens with poor picture quality. I’m guessing the bounce houses are more important. I left, removed my disguise and went back inside to speak to Caveman but he didn’t even remember me. This is one place to definitely avoid. – Winter]

hey its me again, i mispeled the word boot in my previous response  regarding public transportation but i still think a rusty boop would be much more painful

END OF READER COMMENTS

Hungry volunteers needed.

Last night our resident cotton candy machine went haywire and filled the ENTIRE CALL ROOM with cotton candy. And by filled, we mean COMPLETELY filled, stuffed wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, with nothing but cotton candy EVERYWHERE. We don’t even know how it happened, but it did, and as a result no one can even enter the call room with all that cotton candy in the way.

So. This is where YOU come in. We need hungry volunteers to eat their way through the cotton candy and create tunnels for agents to easily enter the room and access their workstations. We also need additional tunnels for the managers so they can get to their offices. Once this is done, we can then work on eating the remaining cotton candy at a more leisurely pace.

As fun as this may sound, it is also imperative that this be done as soon as possible as we are falling behind in our work and our client refuses to believe that a single machine can fill an entire call room with cotton candy. Let’s work together to get this cleared up so we can get back to work as soon as possible. Oh yeah, and have some fun along the way.

Thank you in advance for all your help!

Employee Depreciation.

“What’s this?” Kevin was standing at the doorway to his office, staring at a large Mylar balloon tied to a stapler on top of his desk. Printed on the balloon were the colorful words “THANK YOU”.

Charles was sitting nearby at his desk and watching Kevin admire the balloon. “That’s in appreciation for all your hard work and persistence in finally resolving all our problems with the network,” Charles said.

Kevin just stood there, smiling and shaking his head in confusion. After a long pause, he entered his office and closed the door behind him to start his shift.

Robert was seated at the desk next to Charles. “What was that all about?” he asked. “Kevin hasn’t done a thing!”

“You’ll see,” Charles replied.

Robert shrugged and resumed working.

A few minutes passed before Charles spoke up.

“Robert,” Charles said. “it’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“You’ll see.” Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out a small transmitter with a single white button. Pointing it at Kevin’s closed door, he pressed the button and instantly there was a loud explosion, a terrified yelp and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, all coming from inside Kevin’s office.

“What was that!” Robert shouted, startled.

“Let’s go see,” Charles grinned as he got up from his seat to join Robert in investigating the aftermath of the mysterious explosion.

Charles pushed opened the door to Kevin’s office and there sat Kevin on the floor behind his desk appearing stunned while watching small pieces of balloon drift gently down to the floor.

“Are you all right?” Robert asked. “What happened?”

“I’m fine,” Kevin snapped, “I have no idea what just happened, maybe Charles does!”

“Yes, I do know what happened,” Charles explained, “Your balloon was filled with hydrogen. All I needed to do was use my transmitter to send the signal to the spark-emitting diode I hid inside the balloon to trigger the explosion.”

“But why!” Kevin yelled. “I thought you got me the balloon in appreciation of my hard work!”

Charles replied, “I was being sarcastic.”

The perils of mind control.

Charles was sitting at his desk reading a book he had purchased on the way to work earlier that morning. The book was entitled Have It Your Way With Mind Control and he was reading it with great interest. At last, full control of the office was within reach.

Finally, after patiently thumbing through several chapters detailing the physics and history of mind control, Charles finally reached the chapter that would teach him some basic techniques.

The first step in controlling the mind of another person is to visualize a channel of mental communication to that other person.

Charles put down his book and looked at Kevin sitting at his desk at the opposite end of the office. He concentrated and channeled his thoughts in Kevin’s direction. Easy enough. Charles returned to his book.

Once the mental channel has been opened, it is now possible to transmit your thoughts through that channel and have the other person receive them as thoughts of their own. The stronger you transmit your thoughts, the clearer they will materialize inside the recipient’s mind. With practice you can even transmit commands to be unconsciously carried out by the recipient. Anything is possible!

Charles smiled as he once again put down his book. He hated Kevin and had always wanted to make his head explode, so he concentrated once more as he visualized the channel of mental communication being established. So far, so good.

Then Charles began to strain as he began transmitting commands to make Kevin’s head swell up and explode. Kevin just sat there in his chair unaffected, so Charles strained harder and harder until his face turned red.

Then it happened. Charles suddenly let out a very long and deafening fart that tore through the office to force its evacuation from the fire hazard that materialized. It was a good hour before anyone was allowed back inside, but it was even longer than that for Charles as he needed to go home to change his pants.

Fired from farting on the job.

I was at my desk doing courtesy farts on the phone when one of the assistant managers came up to me and told me that the FAART manager wanted to see me. That could mean one thing: Bad news. Very bad news.

Slowly I got up from my desk and walked across the call room to his office at the other side of the room.

“Nervous?” the FAART manager said to me when he saw me standing at the doorway. Hello to you too, I thought.

“Yeah,” I stammered.

“You should be,” he replied, motioning me to the empty chair next to his desk. His words did nothing to ease the escalating tension.

“One of my assistants saw you using a whoopee cushion to do your calls, is that correct?”

A very uncomfortable pause. Then I answered very tentatively, “Yeah.”

“Does Teleperfart allow the use of whoopee cushions?” he asked.

“No,” I answered.

“Does our client permit the use of whoopee cushions?”

“No.”

“ARE WHOOPEE CUSHIONS EVEN ALLOWED IN THE CALL ROOM!”

“No.”

“You sure know the answers,” the FAART manager replied, “but you certainly don’t know the rules. How many times have we spoken about this already?”

“Two times?” I whispered, knowing full well it was more than that.

“TWO TIMES?” he blurted. “Are you serious? Do you really think we’ve only met twice to discuss this?”

I nodded timidly.

“For your information, this is the fifth time we have spoken about this. The first two times were friendly verbal warnings, then you were given a written warning and then you were suspended, and you still don’t get the message? Guess what’s happening next.”

My body became became paralyzed with terror.

“Give me your whoopee cushion, please.”

Slowly I fished into my pocket and pulled out my whoopee cushion. He grabbed it and pulled out a small electric pump from his desk drawer. Then he turned to his computer and executed a few clicks of his mouse before finally turning back to me.

“Come with me, please.”

The FAART manager escorted me back into the call room, where the other agents immediately took notice of his presence.

“May I have your attention please!” he announced. “I just terminated your calls. Can anyone here tell me what the Teleperfart policy is against Assisted Artificial Farting?”

One agent stood up and replied, “Employees shall not artificially produce flatulent sounds under any conditions or exceptions and are expected to consume gas-inducing foods needed to produce the natural flatulent sounds to fulfill the requirements of our clients and customers. Abuse of this Policy may result in revocation of farting privileges, or other disciplinary measures, up to and including termination.”

“Very good,” the FAART manager replied. Holding up my whoopee cushion, he asked, “Anyone know what this is?”

“CONTRABAND FOR ASSISTED ARTIFICIAL FARTING!” All the agents yelled in unison.

“Is it allowed in the call room?”

“NO!!!” they all roared.

As the agents cheered, the FAART manager switched on the electric pump and began to inflate my whoopee cushion. Bigger and bigger it got and it soon reached the size of a bowling before it burst with a loud bang. The cheering was deafening before it slowly faded away as the agents returned to work.

Then the FAART manager turned to me, ripped the badge from my shirt and called security to have them escort me out of the building.

And now here I sit at home, unemployed and drowning my sorrows in a huge bowl of baked beans so I can spend the rest of the evening farting up a storm in memory of my job’s untimely demise.

[I came up with the idea for this story while at work today. I was doing a followup call to a customer when I reached the customer’s answering machine but before I could leave a message, I sneezed. The sneeze got recorded to the customer’s voicemail, and I concluded I had just done a courtesy sneeze. I took the idea one step further and began to think about what it would be like to do courtesy farts, which cracked me up. The word “FAART” doesn’t really stand for anything, it’s just a bunch of capitalized letters to make the manager’s job title sound really important. Ta ta.]

An open letter of resignation.

I would like to inform you that I am resigning from my position as tech support agent effective immediately following this morning’s Diet Coke incident that has sent shock waves throughout the call room and up the corporate ladder.

My summary of the incident is as follows. I was sitting at my cubicle this morning drinking from can of Diet Coke when one of the supervisors came up to me and told me I was not allowed to have drinks in the call room. So I drank the rest of the soda in one big gulp before disposing of the can.

As I put my headset on in preparation of resuming my shift, I felt an uncomfortable bloated feeling inside my stomach normally associated with drinking mass quantities of soda in such a short time. Before I knew it I got an incoming call and by then it was too late. I let out a loud, thundering belch into the phone that echoed throughout the call room.

After a very uncomfortable silence on the line, the customer screamed, “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS, DIAL-A-BURP?” before hanging up his phone with great force. I am not sure if he called anyone else to complain but I am taking no chances and am resigning immediately before any disciplinary measures are to be taken.

I know our company stresses professionalism on every single level, but my actions today are comparable to rendering these levels as brittle as balsa wood easily broken by the bowling ball of my careless actions.

Thank you for the support and the opportunities that you have provided me during the last two years. I guess I have enjoyed my tenure with the company.

Stranded in Vegas.

hello robert

Hi Kevin, how’s your sore throat?

sore throat?

You called in sick this morning, remember?

oh yeah, sore throat, still hurts

You are coming in tomorrow, right?

not sure

Unless you made a return trip to Legoland

I AM NOT IN LEGOLAND!

Or Disney World?

I AM NOT EVEN IN FLORIDA!
oops

You’re not even in Florida???

dammit

Are you serious? You’re so sick you had to leave Florida? Where are you?

kinda vegas

Kinda Vegas? Where on Earth is “Kinda Vegas”?

OH ROBERT, I’M IN LAS VEGAS AND I’M BROKE AND I GOT MARRIED TO SOME WOMAN I DON’T EVEN KNOW!!!!!!!

Congratulations on your wedding, we’ll have a party when you come back

ROBERT!!!!!!!!!!!!

A bug worse than Heartbleed.

As the Heartbleed bug continues circulating around the Internet, an even greater threat is looming that could very well destroy the Internet itself. The highly destructive Fartstink bug has already started making its rounds and is leaving behind a trail of server fragments in its wake.

The Fartstink bug operates by first pinging with the host before transmitting packets containing a digitized form of methane gas. When the packets are decoded, the inside of the server begins filling up with the odorless but extremely flammable gas.

Next the Fartstink bug begins to overclock the processor to the point where it begins to produce sparks, igniting the gas and causing the server to explode. In some cases entire data centers have blown up due to the Fartstink bug.

Because the bug spreads so rapidly and the digitized gas is odorless, administrators aren’t aware of its presence until they hear their servers exploding and by then it’s too late.

At this time there is no patch for Fartstink because the servers at the security research center kept exploding. It will only be a matter of time before the very computer you’re using will explode right in your face too. You have been warned.

Happy contest ends in disaster.

At my job there was a contest to determine who is the happiest agent in the call room. The winner would be rewarded with a one-week vacation.

So the managers rounded up those agents who were interested in participating. They had the participants stand side by side along the wall and put on their happiest faces with the biggest smiles.

A few minutes later all the participants dropped dead. They had on smiles so big that they smiled their faces in half and spilled their brains all over the floor.