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} You open the box labeled "Windows TP", carefully extracting the pouch
} labeled "License Agreement". You examine the contents of the pouch,
} finding an inflatable beanie bearing the Windows logo rather than the
} familiar 3.5" diskette package. You inflate the beanie, insert two
} "C"-size batteries (not included), and carefully place it on your head.
}
} You press the Start button.
}
} Immediately, the image of an hourglass comes to your mind. You find
} yourself trapped; unable to move anything in your body save your eyes.
}
} After an indeterminable delay, you regain control of your senses.
} You are suddenly compelled to speak your name and business affiliation.
} You then retrieve your Windows TP package and chant the Product-ID
} number.
}
} Suddenly you see the words "Windows is detecting new hardware" flash
} before your eyes.
}
} You crash to the floor, writhing in agony. You feel every muscle in
} your body contract and retract in turn. Your mind is filled with
} the image of a blue inchworm, creeping slowly across a grey field.
} The creature finally reaches the edge of its domain, and your seizure
} ceases. You take a moment to regain your composure, and you are
} reminded of your high school anatomy course as a complete listing of
} every organ in your body appears before your eyes. You browse the
} list for a moment, and utter the phrase "OK". After a short delay,
} you hear the sound of a trumpet echo through the recesses of your mind.
}
} You find yourself in a large, barren space. You look around, and
} discover images labeled "My Brain", "Recycle Bin, and "Set up the
} Microsoft Network". You feel compelled to utter the word "Start",
} after which a list of options floods your mind. Weary from the
} detection phase, you utter the word "Shut down". You close your eyes,
} and blackness surrounds you. You feel yourself start to drift into
} sleep. Your peace is interrupted, however, as a bright orange light
} invades your nothingness. "It's now safe to shut down your mind".
}
} You drift into unconsciousness, and sleep for several hours.
}
} When you awaken, you are frozen in place as you see clouds and blue
} cycling colors. After a short eternity, the familiar "My Brain"
} icon reappears in your mind. But something is terribly wrong;
} you can feel it in your gut. Just outside the range of primary
} vision, you can sense something lurking about you on all four sides.
} You slowly look up, and see the word "Safe Mode" glaring back at you.
} You back away slowly, swivel your head, and there it is, behind you
} as well. Your heartbeat quickened and you are terrified as you turn
} to your left and your right and it meets you there as well, its cold,
} heartless glare filling your soul with despair. Quickly, you summon
} Control Panel, System, Device Manager. You feel yourself frantically
} gasping for air as you run through the list of installed devices.
} You come upon "Respiratory System" and are horrified to see a black
} exclamation point on a yellow field next to the entry "Lungs".
} You close your eyes and utter the word "Properties". On the closed
} curtains of your eyelids, you see your life flashing before your eyes.
}
} You force yourself to concentrate on your situation, attempting to
} discover which system devices are in conflict, when suddenly your
} entire body seizes up in pain.
}
} You lose all sense of reality. You are floating through the clouds as
} you hear a voice echo through your mind: "This program has performed
} an illegal operation and will be terminated." You start to black
} out and suddenly you remember your situation. You stare in horror
} at your blue extremities, knowing that, without oxygen, you will
} not last much longer. With all the consciousness you can muster,
} you force yourself...
}
} To reboot.
}
} You awaken in a place that is dark, but familiar. A solitary white
} prompt on a black field greets you. You look behind you and see the
} wreckage of the operating system that nearly spelled your demise.
} "Cannot find a file that may be needed to run Windows". You turn
} around to face the prompt, and a wide grin comes across your face.
} You take a deep breath and revel in the life-giving atmosphere.
} You laugh as you utter the words,
}
} "DELTREE WINDOWS".
}
} Suddenly you find yourself on the floor of your home. You find
} the charred remains of the Windows TP beanie littering the floor.
} You carefully gather them up, stack them neatly on an altar, and burn
} them, promising yourself never to risk your life with Microsoft again.
} You bury the ashes, knowing that your life is again in order.
}
} You owe the Oracle a copy of Windows TP and Bill Gates' home address.
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