Problems & Solutions of the Corporate Elite

Are you a corporate slime-ball trying to solve the challenging problems of the corporate world? Have you fed your soul to a paper-shredder and lack a conscience? Well, skippy, let Widget help you with this handy guide!

Problem: Your oil company’s tanker has had an oil spill.

Solution: Produce a delightful children’s cartoon called Oilnimals about all the fun that seabirds, turtles and fish have when they get covered in oil. They’ll go on oily adventures, fighting off the evil forces of the ECOgeeks and their villainous queen, Naomi Deklein, a boring, old witch who hates animals and hates fun. Within a generation, you’ll be celebrated for your generous distribution of oil to the animal kingdom.

Problem: Your fast food chain’s workers have discussed unionizing.

Solution: First, replace them all with immigrants. You can pay ’em squat, fire them at will—it’s great. Next, replace the immigrants with some chimps you stole from the zoo: those opposable thumbs will look mighty good working the deep-fryer. If they get out of line, replace the chimps with some towers of human ordure you’ve scuplted from your own waste. Your hand-crafted poo-towers will have a can-do attitude and much stronger respect for authority. Change the mascot from Bud E. Burger to Sherman Shitpile.

Problem: The women at your workplace keep taking maternity leave.

Solution: You’ll get in trouble if you just fire them, so what you’ll want to do is project an endless loop of Rosemary’s Baby onto the office walls. If they still insist on having a child, go ahead and summon the Dark Prince, Satan himself, to possess their newborn—a libation of goat blood mixed with honey should do the trick. If the other ladies in the office still want to get preggers after Sandra from accounting’s nursery becomes a flesh-devouring portal to Deepest Hades, well, they sound like C-suite material after all.

Problem: As the owner of a professional football team, your athletes are protesting during the national anthem.

Solution: Fire the lot of ’em just to be safe. Replace them all with 11 crisp American flags, flapping proudly in the wind. And the flags will have very patriotic AR-15 assault rifles tied to the end of them, such that when the anthem plays and the flag flaps in the breeze, a number of lucky patriots in the crowd will be shot with very patriotic bullets. And as the referee, Ted Nugent, flips a patriotic quarter with an eagle awash in medical bills on one side and a DVD of Bedtime for Bonzo glued to the other, you’ll know that your living in the home of the brave and the land of the free Coke with every order of large pizza.