--------------------------------------------- "The Adventures of Lone Wolf Scientific" ------------------------------------------ An electronically syndicated series that follows the exploits of two madcap mavens of high-technology. Copyright 1991 Michy Peshota. May not be distributed without accompanying WELCOME.LWS and EPISOD.LWS files. ---------------------- Welcome to The People's Republic of Electrical Engineering "Abandon Hope Ye Who Enter Here" >>Andrew.BAS, the dimpled young computer programmer who looks like the kind of programmer Norman Rockwell would have drawn, is horrified to learn that he will be writing batch files to aim nuclear missiles. Meanwhile, his new officemate gets into a snit with their boss over anti-static boot mats.<< By M. Peshota The engineer-manager, striding ahead of them into the darkness, droned on like a cardboard sergeant. "Should you find yourself lost in the research and development sub-sub- sub-sub-sub-sub-sub-basement, just follow the jet engine pieces on the floor. They'll lead you straight into heart of The People's Republic of Engineering." S-max grunted in appreciation for this travelling tip. A stricken Andrew.BAS whispered to him, "I still can't get over the fact that we're going to be building nuclear bombs. The employee recruitment brochures that they passed out at my college never said anything about writing batch files to aim missiles at major population centers." "Will you just mellow out!" the computer builder huffed in impatience. "I don't see why you can't make the best of this. Just because you'd rather be a space cadet than work for a military contractor is no reason to incessantly whine in my ear. I, personally, am looking forward to the opportunity to work with state-of-the-art peace-keeping materials." He grunted. "Just think of all the wonderful things you'll be able to do with a surface-to-air missile." Rounding a hall corner, the trio heard a maniacal shriek, then spotted the shadow of a hunchback in a space suit scurrying across the path in front of them. Farwick noticed Andrew.BAS gaping at a printout banner that clung to a cinderblock wall like refuse from a failed liberty uprising. It read: "Welcome to the Gus Farwick's People's Republic of Engineering, Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here." The engineer-manager smiled. "The research engineers and I share a remarkable relationship. Some of them think of me as their father. That's probably because I enjoy hearing about the things they do, even though the technicalities involved make no sense to me." S-max shot Andrew.BAS a look of intense and profound relief. The programmer wondered what that meant. Their new boss continued, "We do a lot of special things together here in The People's Republic of EE. Last month, for instance, I treated everyone to new alligator clips. Sometimes we sit around during lunch and talk about electricity. That's how close we are." The trio reached a drain-opener green door. A yellowed window mounted in the center and reinforced with chicken wire suggested a cross between a door from a seedy public washroom and a San Quentin cell. Farwick jiggled the knob and swung the door open with a clatter. "Mr. Jellowack!" he chimed. "I have officemates for you!" They spotted, hunched in a far corner of the office, what looked like a gargoyle with humungous black-rimmed glasses bobbing askewedly from his nose. Perched on a tall stool in front of a computer terminal, his hair and fingers flying, he looked like a dungeon apprentice to lunacy. He peered at them with dark feral child eyes for a second, then his gaze darted back to the terminal screen as if he preferred to think they didn't exist. "This is Mr. Jellowack," Farwick motioned to him. "He programs exclusively in assembly language, sometimes for days without sleep, fresh air, nourishment, or healthy human contact. This, I am told, is something at which to both marvel and consider highly dangerous." S-max squinted suspiciously at the assembler savant as if he could see already how dangerous he was. Andrew.BAS waved at him in a bright-eyed, friendly programmerly fashion. "Hello, Mr. Jellowack!" he hailed. "My name is Andrew.BAS. My favorite programming language is C, although I do occasionally enjoy adding assembly language subroutines to my code." S-max rolled his eyes in disgust at such a mawkish display of the over-friendliness programmers like to lavish upon each other at any meeting. Mr. Jellowack ignored them and continued prancing his scarred knuckles over the keys. Farwick swept around the office, arms extended, like a real estate agent. "One of the many amenities of this particular office," he began, "is the plastic boot mat in the corner." He pointed at it with pride. S-max scrutinized it. "Is it anti-static?" "Umm..." "THEN WHAT GOOD IS IT?!" the indignant computer builder howled. Farwick paused in distress, then ignored him and continued on in an animated, Cavalcade of Homes fashion. "But wait!" he said. "There are other hidden graces to this particular earthen sanctum---" S-max glared at the battered metal desk in the center of the office. "Why is there only one empty desk?" he demanded. He unfastened the big, plastic walkie-talkie that was clipped to his belt. He slammed it onto the desk with a territorial fury. "And why isn't Andrew.BAS getting a desk?" Farwick paused and gazed at the desk. Yes, the wierd man with the walkie-talkie was correct. There was only one empty desk, and he had two new employees to accomodate. What to do? He bit his lip in indecision. He hated requisitioning office furniture. There were so many forms to fill out, so many questions to answer, so many big green boxes to check. He finally mumbled, "I suppose you two can share the desk." "I DO NOT SHARE DESKS!" S-max erupted. Farwick quivered. "I AM A FAMOUS COMPUTER DESIGNER! I AM USED TO SPECIAL TREATMENT!" The enraged computer builder flung his baboon- big arms in the air, all the while rattling like a million broken screwdrivers. "At other high-tech installations where I have worked, I was not only given my own boot mat and my own pad of While-You-Were-Out memos, I was allowed to walk around in jeweled slippers!" he howled. "I had an office that that overlooked a major freeway! I had an index card with my own name printed on it, spelled correctly too and taped to the office door! It was taped with the highest quality masking tape available! I was provided with an almost limitless supply of Post-It Notes! Think about it: <>! The crowds gasped and parted whenever I walked in the direction of the Cray-YMP with a screwdriver!" He huffed and sputtered and pulled from a pocket inside his army jacket the most humungous circuit diagram that Farwick had ever seen. He crushed it into a desk drawer. "Some days I played video games until I dropped!" he continued hotly. "Other days I took naps at my desk! My wastebasket was emptied almost daily! People retrieved for me my t-shirts and gym socks whenever I dropped them in the hall! THAT'S BECAUSE I AM A FAMOUS COMPUTER DESIGNER! I AM USED TO SPECIAL TREATMENT!" As he glared at Farwick, the engineer-manager felt every fiber in his body turn to pudding. "I do not share things, especially not desks, and <> not with some low- life computer programmer!" S-max motioned irritatedly in the direction of Andrew.BAS. Andrew.BAS wondered what he had done to deserve the designation of low-life. Meekly, he placed his backpack full of engineering textbooks and his briefcase full of sci- fi novels on the floor beside him. "I'll just sit on the floor," he volunteered politely. "The last thing I want to do is cramp S-max's style." S-max looked relieved. So did Farwick. The engineer-manager clapped his hands together. "Then we are all moved in." S-max looked around the office bewildered. "One last question," he said. "Where is my champagne-filled Jacuzzi?" "You'll have to take that up with the sales and marketing department." The engineere-manager bolted towards the door. "They have all the champagne-filled Jacuzzis at the moment. We don't get many down here in R and D unless they're in need of a new landing gear or something like that." With that, the frightened Farwick fled down the hall, leaving the self-proclaimed "famous computer designer" scowling indignantly and the gentlehearted computer programmer wondering what he had done to deserve a life of sitting on the floor, programming nuclear missiles to annihilate major population centers. >>>>In the next installment, "Bad Days Befall the People's Republic of Electrical Engineering," engineer-manager Gus Farwick contemplates ways to keep the restive S-max safely in his desk and out of trouble.>>>>