RUMOR ROOM ON LOCATION (In the Rumor Mill)
<The almost deafening roar from the main blade of a busy sawmill threatens to
drive your senses into overload as you descend the rickety ladder into….. THE RUMOR MILL!> Hi! My code name is Boffo and I'm pleased you could take this trip into my little Rumor Mill! That'll be twenty bucks. <he riffles through your cash> Thank you. Now, let's start with a tour of the manufacture of computer industry rumors, okay?
<Boffo leads you down yet another rickety rank of rungs; the incessant whine
of the blade grows yet a little dimmer.>
Here we are! <You're gazing into a cavernous room in which every figure seems
peripheral and furtive.> It's a little distracting until you get used to it, but this is where all the high-tech rumors are born and disseminated!
<A paper airplane sails across your line of sight; your head twitches slightly
as you flinch involuntarily when a trial balloon looms off to your right.>
I know how you must feel. This place is a traffic jam of trial balloons, red
herrings, whisper campaigns, leaks and boardroom ennui. Never mind all that – it's just window dressing! You want to see a rumor in-the-making?
<Boffo leads you through the fog through a massive set of steel doors into a
cramped office with a clean desk and a red telephone with "Jobs" scrawled in magic marker on the handset.>
We have a special place in our hearts for this guy Jobs. He started it all a
few years back by himself leaking important rumors about his former company.
<Boffo stifles a merry belly laugh> What a crutch!
<Ring! Ring!>
<Boffo snaps up the phone and listens, eyes widening, to a voice on the line.>
Thanks! <Click.> Here's one for your twenty bucks: Big Blue is going to
re-release the PCjr with Unix to sink MS-DOS and torch Ma's combo sally!
<Ring! Ring!> <Boffo again yanks the handset to his red left ear.>
Huh? Uh-huh. Hmmmm. Okay. Thanks. <Click.>
Okay, since you're here, I'll tell you another one for free: Apple's about to
announce the McDLT – a hybrid McIntosh with a cool-touch screen and even hotter capes that'll – <suddenly a loud buzzer staccatoes; a low, wailing siren starts to doppler toward you>
OMIGOSH! <Boffo heads pall-mall toward the now-closing steel doors> Let's get
outa here!
<Panting, chugging, you run desperately behind Boffo, avoiding few of the
dangling cobwebs that never seem to touch Boffo, you finally run smack-dab into his back, nearly knocking him over. A cool envelope of unconsciousness enfolds you…>
<A flickering light, far away>
Wake up! C'mon, buddy, wake UP! <Boffo's ragtag visage slowly comes into
focus> Tour's over! Time for you to move along! See ya' next time, okay?