By BOOGER

PART ONE

Opening scene: A dimly lit, smokey corporate board room, somewhere deep in the bowels of the n2k korporate headquarters. Various financiers and other yes-men in starched white shirts sit on either side of a table the size of a London bus.

At one end of the table sits Andrew Lienhard, webmaster, davidbowie.com.

At the head of the table sits the c.e.o. himself, shrouded in darkness. The room is hushed. They all wait for the c.e.o. to speak.

Andrew; (fidgeting nervously with his tie) "Look, I really did my best to maintain profitability, by keeping the rabble in a rabid state of expectation. You know, impersonating the c.e.o., hinting that the c.e.o. would appear under an alias from time to time. I...I just couldn't deal with all the non-fans. I...cracked up, finally. I concocted a story about moving on. It's been hell, really. Last night I..."

One of the fifteen financiers gazed toward Andrew, his eyes narrowed in the gloom, and said, "You...did what...last night."

Andrew peered into the shadows at the other end of the table, straining to see the thin white form seated at the other end, who was stroking the lush fur of a Persian cat as it nestled in his lap.

Andrew; "I.........last night, in desperation, I drank a bottle of after shave." (Looks down) "I couldn't afford the booze. You see, I spent all my earnings in investing in beanie baby futures."

Financier; "YOU SWINE! You also embezzled a computer monitor, a coffeemaker, and a dozen n2k pencils!"

Another finacier; (Looks down at paper in front of him,) "Correction, TWO dozen!"

Andrew; "Yes, yes it's true, it's all true!" (Rests face in hands to hide the tears.)

Financier; (Turns to the c.e.o. at the head of the table;) "D.B., I move that we make an example of this...this PERSON."

Finally, THE C.E.O. SPEAKS, "Mr. Lienhard, in view of your long months of service...and the "admirable" way you handled our affairs in New York, we will, be somewhat lenient..."

Andrew; (looks up, hopefully, a smile starts to trace across his quivering lips.) "You, you will?"

D.B.; "Yes, these gentlmen suggested you be exfenestrated, but that would have been...too public." Bowie's bejeweled right hand swifly reached for an unseen lever beneath the table. SUDDENLY, Andrew's chair tilted backward, his body slid out of sight into an automatic trap door. Flames leaped up from the opening as he was consumed in the furnace below.

"AAUUUUUUUUUGG!!!!"

The trap door slid shut quietly, and the chair returned to its upright position. The financiers flinched, and looked at one another, and then slowly turned toward the c.e.o..

D.B.; "And now, gentlemen, it appears we need a new way to generate some capitol." (he turns, and from behind him a man enters the room, holding a large dog on a leash.) "This is Mr. Farquar. I have enlisted him to fill you in on a little plan I have in mind. when he has briefed you, you will take your orders from him."

Farquar, "Good evening, gentlemen. Our plans for world domination begin today, for we have acquired the means to start our own internet ISP."

(A collective gasp.)

D.B.; (goes back to stroking the cat.) "Exxxcellent, Mr.Farquar. You may then proceed with plan A."

Farquar; "I assure you sirs, we will have full global domination within one month!"

D.B.; "Very well. And, of course, Mr.Farquar, you realize, the conseqences of...failure." The jeweled hand gently strokes the cat, and the entire assembly turns and looks back at the empty chair; a thin wisp of smoke, still hanging in the air around it.

Continue to Part 2...