Runner-up from the Vile Puns section of the
2010 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest:
As Jeffrey Hicks, the event safety coordinator for the Renaissance Festival finished posting the revised standards for weaponry, he thought of the day an unleashed dog wandered onto the jousting field, causing the rider from Indianapolis to stop short, impaling himself on the butt of his spear, and the following day’s newspaper headline which read: “Stray Injures Indy Knight, Hicks Changing Lances.”
Elsewhere, a colleague, outraged since February at the (to him) inequitable distribution of promotions (me one, him nil) has finally managed to find himself a job in another area of the Bank. His obsessive attention to the most inconsequential of miniscule minuscule details, to the detriment of the important and relevant, will no doubt be as much of a joy to them as it has been to us. Down-side for me is the end of having looked good by comparison.
Now I'm faced with the problem of deciding whether or not to bid to take over the project he's been screwing up for the last 9 months. One the one hand, there's a potential big win, but it's one of those "if I wanted to get to there, I wouldn't start from here" things. Having examined the code, I'd scrap the whole (meagre) thing, an approach that may be resisted by "invested" management.