Author Archives: Kurt Luchs

* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where one man's hero is another man's villain. Yes, there are heroes, and then there are heroes. And then there is Ralph Gamelli...

A Hero Among You

By: Ralph Gamelli

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Most people out there have no idea I exist, that I patrol the city by night, constantly on the lookout for crime or a new singles’ bar.

I don’t wear a mask and cape, although I’ll occasionally don a muscle shirt and sunglasses, and offer compliments to the pretty ladies who pass by the front stoop of my apartment building. When they give me the finger in response, they might as well be flipping off justice itself.

I don’t drive a sleek black car that shoots fire from its exhaust. My car is designed to blend in — the kind of rust bucket you might see scattering pedestrians in a crosswalk or cutting you off in traffic, and you raise your fist and swear at the driver, but what you don’t realize is that the driver leads a double life as a crime fighter and should maybe be cut a little slack.

My fighting skills may not be the best in the world, but I can take several shots to the head before I go down, especially if I’ve had a few to drink. And on my way to the floor I’ve been known to reach out and take a handful of hair with me.

The cops aren’t on my side. Without a doubt they consider me a vigilante. At various times they’ve also considered me a loiterer, a graffitist and a ticket scalper. Just last week when I was digging for information out on the street, they brought me in for solicitation. I played along and let them put me in a holding cell until I could post bail, all the while thinking it ironic that here I was, the antihero, the “defender of the people” they’re so desperate to collar, and yet they had no idea who I really was, or that I was wanted in another state for passing bad checks.

I don’t have an arch nemesis. That doesn’t mean I don’t have plenty of enemies out there, though, including the waitress at City Diner, assorted bouncers and bartenders, and anybody who uses the word “literally” too often. There’s also no shortage of people in my own building I can’t stand — so smug and superior just because they’ve never been caught naked in the laundry room.

My parents weren’t killed by a criminal when I was a kid, although they have disowned me, so in a way it’s kind of the same thing. And I do have an origin story of sorts, going back to only last month. I was in the middle of one of my favorite pastimes — which is to hail a cab, wait for it to pull over to the curb, then give the driver a rude gesture and stroll away — when all of a sudden I heard an old lady scream that her purse had been snatched. I don’t know what made me take off after the guy. Maybe it was some deep, natural instinct for justice, or possibly it was because the cabbie had gotten out of his car and was approaching me with a tire iron. Whatever it was, I chased the thief for three blocks until eventually I grabbed him, took several shots to the head, and yanked out a handful of hair on my way to the ground.

Even though he got away, I managed to take the purse away from him and bring it back to the old lady. The contents were gone, of course, but $47 in cash, a box of tissue paper and half a roll of Lifesavers could be looked at as a reasonable finder’s fee.

And that was how my crusade began. Nothing has happened since then, but I remain ever vigilant, ever watchful, usually from my front stoop. So if you happen to be a criminal yourself, you better watch your back. And if you happen to be one of those ladies who pass by, why not cut out the snob act for once? Some heroes are millionaire playboys during their off hours. Others would settle for just a friendly smile and maybe a compliment on their muscle shirt.

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* Welcome to The Big Jewel, which contributes only $43 billion to the national deficit (and most of that is for sugarless gum, so that's not so bad, right?). This week our good friend David Jaggard puts the whole national debt thing in personal perspective for us.

Various People From My Past Offer Illustrations To Help Me Comprehend The Trillion Dollar Deficit

By: David Jaggard

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The Kid Who Lived Up The Street

Let’s say you have a trillion dollars. As if you’re ever going to have that much money, ever in a million trillion years. Yeah, right. But let’s say you do, which you won’t, and you go to the bank and take it all out in pennies. As though any bank in the world could give you that many pennies. What are you, stupid? But let’s say they do, which they can’t, and then you take all the bags of pennies and throw them in the ocean. Hah! Like you could even lift a bag full of pennies, let alone throw it, you wuss. I’d pay a trillion dollars to see that. But let’s say you’ve done it, which you couldn’t have. With that many pennies you’d fill up all the oceans all over the world so all the water would overflow and flood all the land and drown everybody. Everybody in the whole world would be dead and it would be your fault. And then I’d tell.

The Head Counselor At My Summer Camp

HEY! Say I give you a trillion dollars. In cash. Know what you’re gonna do with it? Well listen up! You’re gonna stack those dollar bills up one on top of the other in a NEAT PILE! And you know what? When you’re done that stack will go all the way to the moon! But you’re gonna have to have plenty of sticktoitiveness to finish the job! Think you could do it? Nahh, you’d probably give up at about the ionosphere and go spend the rest on licorice and whittling kits at the Trading Post. I don’t know why I bother.

My High School Social Studies Teacher

One trillion dollars is enough money for the federal government to give every man, woman and child in the entire world a hundred and fifty dollars. Except you teenagers would probably think it’s some kind of big joke and go around and get in line again and try to get paid twice. Well, that’s real smart! What if your second payout means that some poor orphan in Ethiopia doesn’t get any money at all and dies of starvation? What if everybody did that? We’d have rioting in Ethiopia and then probably war in Africa and by then you’d be 19 or 20 years old and have to go fight and maybe get killed. So you’re only hurting yourself.

My College Roommate

If my dad’d give me a trillion dollars, I could take that hot blonde from chem lab out for both lunch and dinner at the fanciest, most expensive restaurant in town every single day for 5,479,452 years. Man, then she’d just have to come across. Huh? Tips? No, why? Oh. OK, so 4,657,534 years. But still.

My Ex-Fiancée

If you’d get your rear in gear and earn a trillion dollars you could buy me the entire Dior, Prada, Donna Karan, Jimmy Choo and Manolo Blahnik collections every single season until I die and still have more than 999 billion left. And then about two seconds after my funeral you’d forget all about me and start dating some cute little gold-digger. You bastard. Oh dammit to hell! I forgot to factor in inflation. Why didn’t you remind me? Now I have to do the entire calculation all over again. Thanks a lot!

My Stoned-Out Coworker At My Old Job

OK, say you had, like, a trillion dollars, OK? And say you got it in fifties. No, wait, hundreds. So then say you start counting it. I figure you can count, like, what, maybe two bills per hour? Whoa, I mean per second! Yeah, per second. And say you count 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 52 weeks a year…That means it would take you…hang on…it would be, like, almost…I don’t know, maybe 158 or 159 years before you even counted it all. Something like that. Even with leap year. And plus you’d have to like really really really concentrate all the time so you don’t lose count, right? So basically it’s impossible to count it all, so you’d never actually know that you actually had a trillion dollars. So you could loan me — even just give me — like two billion and you’d never even miss it. Right? Right. So how about twenty right now? C’mon!

My Pastor

In the eyes of God, a trillion dollars is as a single penny. Even such an unfathomable sum won’t buy you salvation. Or an air conditioner in hell. But we could sure use one in the parsonage. Did you know that the original Aramaic text of Leviticus in the Dead Sea Scrolls actually defines tithing as 25 percent? Wait — were you saying you had a trillion dollars or if you had a trillion dollars? I see. The federal budget deficit? Let us pray…

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* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where Saint Nicholas is so real he can even be verified by science...or even by elementary school science students. This week please welcome the unlikely named Boudreau Freret to our pages. When he is not writing for us, Mr. Freret also contributes to Yankee Pot Roast and The Talking Mirror, both of which can be found in our Blogroll to the right. His first piece for us celebrates Christmas in a spirit of pragmatic rationalism. Cheers! Please note: we will be on holiday hiatus until Wednesday, January 6. Until then, merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Third Grade Science Fair

By: Boudreau Freret

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Similarities Between Reindeer Bioluminescence and Insect Bioluminescence

Susanna O. Brown

Objective:

My objective is to find out if the light emitted from some reindeers’ noses is caused by the same bioluminescence used by insects like glow worms and fireflies.

Question:

Is the light source for a luminous reindeer’s (Rangifer Tarandus, sometimes called Caribou) nose similar to the light source in glow worms (Arachnocampa flava) and fireflies (Lampyridae)?

Hypothesis:

My hypothesis is that light emitting reindeer noses use the same chemical reaction to produce light that glow worms and fireflies use.

Background Information and Research:

Glow worms (not really worms, but larvae of a type of fly) give off light to attract insects so they can catch and eat them. The light is blueish-greenish, and is a product of a chemical reaction between the enzyme luciferase, adenosine triphosphate (ATP, the energy molecule) oxygen, and luciferin (a waste product). See http://www.wettropics.gov.au/pa/pa_fireflies.html.

Fireflies also produce light by the same chemical reaction. See http://iris.biosci.ohio-state.edu/projects/FFiles/frfact.html. The color of firefly light ranges from “intense green to bright yellow.” http://jgp.rupress.org/cgi/reprint/48/1/95.pdf.

Reindeer noses have specialized bones that increase the surface area inside the nostrils. This helps warm incoming cold air with body heat, before the air reaches their lungs. See Wikipedia, Reindeer, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reindeer. This may explain how reindeer get the extra oxygen needed for the chemical reaction between the luciferin, the luciferase, and the adenosine triphosphate.

The Wikipedia Reindeer entry does not mention light emitting reindeer noses, but we know from other sources that they exist. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Robert L. May, 1939. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, (Song), Johnnie Marks, 1949. Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, (Television Broadcast), Rankin/Bass Productions, Inc., 1964. These sources all describe a light that is red in color, not blue-green or yellow.

A Google Image search for “light up reindeer noses” returned photographs of clothing, costumes, and holiday decorations, as well as many drawings, but no actual photos of reindeer with light emitting noses. The results proved only that the reindeer with light up noses exist, but did not explain the source of the light. However, a search for “glow worms” and “fireflies” produced thousands of actual photographs, many taken in low light. Other than the glow, it was difficult to tell what was in many of these pictures.

Actions Taken and Procedure:

I visited two zoos because that’s the number my dad would drive me to.

The first, Jungle Louie’s Petting Zoo, doesn’t have any reindeer but I did talk to the Executive Director, Louie Cognomi. Mr. Cognomi was very nice, but did not answer any of my questions. I had several questions prepared about how reindeer noses might combine luciferin, luciferase, and adenosine triphosphate, but midway though the first page, Mr. Cognomi interrupted and said I could hold one of the zoo’s sugar gliders if I wanted. It crawled across my shoulders for a few minutes (which tickles), then my dad said it was time for us to leave. I never got any answers.

The Belcher County Zoo has two caribou (another name for reindeer) on loan from the Qamanirjuaq Caribou Management Board. Neither have light emitting noses. Their handler, Maggie Cervidae, gave me a tour that included her office. There was something on the wall that my dad said was a master’s degree, but it must not be in reindeer, because she didn’t know anything about light up noses. In fact, if I understood her correctly, she said that reindeer do not have light up noses. I know that isn’t right, because so many sources describe one in detail. See Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer: Robert L. May, 1939, Johnnie Marks, 1949, Rankin/Bass Productions, Inc., 1964.

Results:

We know that some reindeer noses light up, but Wikipedia does not explain why. Mr. Cognomi never answered any of my questions, and Ms. Cervidae incorrectly said that reindeer don’t have noses that light up. Mom and dad just change the subject when I try to talk about it. I don’t know what is going on, but I feel like I’m getting the runaround, and I intend to get to the bottom of all of this before next year’s science fair.

Conclusion:

My hypothesis was that light emitting reindeer noses use the same chemical reaction to produce light that glow worms and fireflies use. My results do not fully support my initial hypothesis. I believe that some of the Google Image results for “glow worms” and “fireflies” are actually poor quality pictures of reindeer with light up noses, particularly the really blurry ones that show what looks like a bright yellow light source. Two color examples are attached to this report as an Appendix. More research is needed to figure out why the light in the photos looks yellow, not red, if the light is produced by the same chemical reaction that glow worms and fireflies use, and why nobody wants to talk to me about it.

Acknowledgments:

I would like to thank my father for driving me to the zoos, my mom for giving me an advance on my allowance so I could have the color photos printed for the Appendix, and my sister, Karen, for loaning me her copy of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.

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* Welcome to The Big Jewel, your online Christmas shopping superstore. We promise not to let any of our employees send you emails like those some nut from Barnes & Noble sent to our good friend Frank Ferri.

The Status Of Your Order

By: Frank Ferri

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From: service@barnesandnoble.com
To: fferri@gmail.com
Date: May 25, 2009 12:58 PM
Subject: Your Barnes & Noble.com Order #BN87208685

Dear Frank Ferri,

Thank you for shopping with us. You’ll receive a follow-up email shortly regarding the status of this order. You can always log into your account at www.bn.com to check on this order and your previous orders.

Once again, thanks for choosing Barnes & Noble!

Sincerely,

The BN.com Team

* * * * * * *

From: service@barnesandnoble.com
To: fferri@gmail.com
Date: May 25, 2009 1:01 PM
Subject: Your Barnes & Noble.com Order #BN87208685

Dear Frank,

You said you wanted the paperback right? Oops, forget it. I found your order; looking at it now. Yep, paperback. Sorry. Ignore me. Been one of those days.

Sincerely,

Phil Grantlier
Barnes & Noble
Customer Service

* * * * * * *

From: service@barnesandnoble.com
To: fferri@gmail.com
Date: May 25, 2009 2:12 PM
Subject: Bad News About BN Order #BN87208685

Frank,

Guess what? We can’t find the book you ordered. I know we said we had it, but this is a big-ass warehouse and sometimes it’s hard to keep track of everything. Still, it’s embarrassing. Will write back ASAP when I have more details.

Sincerely,

Phil Grantlier

* * * * * * *

From: service@barnesandnoble.com
To: fferri@gmail.com
Date: May 25, 2009 2:20 PM
Subject: Great News About BN Order #BN87208685

Hey FF,

Me again.

We found the book! Whew! It wasn’t where it was supposed to be. I’ll have a talk with Randy about being more mindful when he stocks the fiction shelves. Sorry about the scare.

— Phil

P.S. Can I borrow the book when you’re done? Just kidding! I have access to a book or two here. Just one of the perks.

* * * * * * *

From: philandphilsmom@gmail.com
To: fferri@gmail.com
Date: May 25, 2009 2:28 PM
Subject: Pssst…it’s me, Phil

Frank,

Randy totally snapped at me. I don’t know why I’m putting this on you, but I guess I needed to talk to someone and you’ve been such a good listener lately. Anyway, all I said was, “Randy can you please try to keep the books organized by the author’s last name? It will make everyone’s job a lot easier when trying to locate books.” Then he completely freaked saying I always single him out. He filed a complaint with HR. Any advice?

By the way, I’m sending this from my personal email account. Add me to your contacts! (FYI: keep anything you send me “clean”…I share this address with my mom.)

— PG

* * * * * * *

From: service@barnesandnoble.com
To: fferri@gmail.com
Date: May 25, 2009 2:32 PM
Subject: Your Barnes & Noble.com Order #BN87208685

Frankie Baby,

Sorry. I was so busy ranting in the last email that I forgot to tell you that your order is packed and ready to ship from our warehouse. I’ll shoot you a tracking number as soon as I get it. Or I can call you with it. Let me know what works for you.

— P

* * * * * * *

From: service@barnesandnoble.com
To: fferri@gmail.com
Date: May 26, 2009 1:08 AM
Subject: Your Barnes & Noble.com Order #BN87208685

Frank,

I never heard back from you about how you wanted to receive the tracking number. No worries. I was able to access your account and pull up your phone number. You have a 609 area code! That’s New Jersey. We’re in Jersey too! I’ll give you a ring, maybe we can meet up. Talk books???

— Phat Phil

* * * * * * *

From: philandphilsmom@gmail.com
To: fferri@gmail.com
Date: May 27, 2009 3:37 AM
Subject: FW: hilarious

You have to see the attached!!! This list of blonde jokes is hysterical. The one about Wite-Out on the computer screen is funnier than ever now that no one actually uses that stuff.

Hey Frank, do me a solid and forward this on to ten people?

— Phillip (not flathead screwdriver) Grantlier

* * * * * * *

From: service@barnesandnoble.com
To: fferri@gmail.com
Date: May 28, 2009 10:29 AM
Subject: Last Day

Hi Frank.

Got a bombshell this morning when I came into work! Just letting my closest friends — well, my only friend — know that I’ve been let go by Barnes & Noble. Apparently a customer filed a complaint alleging that my customer service methods “crossed the line from friendly and helpful into the overzealous.” Based on the printed email correspondence provided by this customer, HR said they found my behavior “abnormal and creepy and illustrative of several DSM-IV diagnoses.” Whatever that means. I wish they would just tell me who complained, you know? They’re keeping it all secrety and stuff.

Anyhoo, hit me up on philandphilsmom@gmail.com, since I won’t be at the B&N email address anymore. Oh, I almost forgot! As I was cleaning out my desk and burning a disc of our entire database of customers, I had some extra time, so I looked into your order history. “How to Seek Out Crowds: A Frotteur’s Guide to 24/7 Fun,” “Tax Evasion For Dummies,” “Hanson’s Greatest Hits: Volumes I and II”? Weird stuff. Let me know if you want me to post these and some of your freakier orders on Facebook. I’d love to hear back from you! And for some reason, I think I will this time.

Cheers!

— Phil

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* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where opportunity is always knocking, but we never let it in because it doesn't have a warrant. Say, how would you like to be the spokesperson for a national organic coalition? Because something tells us that Twinkie the Kid will not be getting the job...

Twinkie The Kid Interviews For A Job As National Organic Coalition Spokesperson

By: Russell Bradbury-Carlin

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Let me start by sayin’ thanks for calling me in for this interview. When I read that ‘cause organic foods have been so popular the last few years that you’d be hiring a national icon, it got me startin’ to thinking. But when I realized that, in particular, you were lookin’ for a symbol that the average American Joe could relate to, I yelled out –- yippee-ki-yay! Then I jumped out of my hot tub, grabbed my cell phone and called ya’ll. Hey, I don’t need to tell you guys that Twinkies are already an American icon. And I clearly had a lot to do with getting it to that level. Look at me! I’m as American as apple pie. I got my cowboy hat. I got my cowboy boots. I’m practically the John Wayne of snack foods!

What? You’ve never eaten a Twinkie? None of you? Get outta here! Did ya’ll grow up in Communist Russia, or what?

Excuse me? Why would I, in particular, be a suitable representative of organic foods? Hmm, well, let me ask you something – what is the one thing that most people think when they hear about organic foods? I’ll tell you –- it rots! That’s right. Organic foods have no preservatives. It rots quickly if you don’t eat or cook it. Well, I don’t think I need to tell you that one thing that people think of when they think of Twinkies is – they last forever. Not a bad association to have: me…Twinkies…lasts forever…organic foods. And on top of that I’m a cowboy. Like I said there ain’t nothing more American than that. This will help dispel the controversy that organic food is part of a terrorist plot to drain us all of our money. That’s right, I read that someplace.

So, okay, I know I’m not made of carob. And I couldn’t tell you the difference between a brussel sprout and a head of lettuce. But I am pretty awesome here with this lasso. I was thinking that you could show my lassoing things out on the range. You know, catching those free-range animals. Probably not a chicken. But, I could ride up on my organic free-range horse, lasso me a free-range cow, drop it to the ground and tie it up in ten seconds flat. You know, it would put a bit of brawn behind that wimpy feeling people get when they think of organic food.

Are you sure not one of you, ever, not even once, had a Twinkie?

Why did I leave my last job? Well, I’ve been involved in the snack food industry since the early 70’s. And a few weeks ago I was sitting around playin’ a weekly game of quarters with Captain Cupcake and Fruitpie the Magician. Fruitpie was yakking it up again about the job stress and his ulcer. And the Captain lost his hearing aid in his beer stein again. I thought to myself — what a pathetic bunch of losers. Then I thought, you know, I ain’t so fluffy and spongy anymore. My frosting’s startin’ to dry up. Do I want to be sitting around a decade from now pining for the good ole’ days of artificial coloring and preservatives with long chemical names? No. I know which side my organic bread is buttered, uh, Earth Balanced on. I can see that organic food is the wave of the future. And, I want to be standing under that wave.

What? That’s it? Oh, come on. I can tell I haven’t sold you, yet. Gimme me just two more minutes and we’ll be good.

Great, thanks. All I ask is that you each take a little taste of my filling. It’s white, right, so it’s got to be pure. Just one taste. Excellent.

See. Not bad, huh? Actually, it’s pretty damn awesome, right?

Maybe, we could emphasize that my corn syrup is from organic corn. Sure, it’s a bit of lie, but no one would know. Hmm, yes, I do have some actual boxes of Twinkies in my saddle-bag. Sure, here, take one. What’s that? Uh, I don’t really know if Dextrose, Cellulose Gum, Polysorbate 60, or Dextrin could be considered organic. But, heck, you guys run this thing. Maybe you could, you know, make it so. Actually, yes, I think there’s an egg in there, too. That’s good isn’t it?

More Twinkies? Wow, you guys tore through that first three boxes pretty quick. Sure, I can call the supplier, but let’s just start with one truckload.

Before I do that, though, I have one last question: so, am I hired, or what?

Ah, excellent.

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* Welcome to The Big Jewel, your only tenuous link to reality. But if you truly want to understand what it means to be linked in, ponder the words of our good friend Kent Woodyard very carefully...

My LinkedIn Networking Requests Require Some Customization

By: Kent Woodyard

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TO: Tom (My current boss)

I’d like to add you to my professional network on LinkedIn.

— Kent (the guy with the funny ties)

TO: Cheryl (My high school guidance counselor)

I’d like to add you to my professional network of people on LinkedIn who thought I’d be dead by now.

— Kent

TO: Susan (My old boss at JoAnn’s Fabrics)

I’d like to add you to my professional network of past employers on LinkedIn who were unaware that I was spending most of my time at work jousting with curtain rods and fitting myself for capes.

— Kent

TO: Sam Jones

I’d like to add you to my professional network of college graduates on LinkedIn whose future in advertising depends largely on whether or not I have courtside seats at The Garden this Saturday.

— Kent

TO: Britney Cooper

I’d like to add you to my professional network of emotionally stunted human resource professionals on LinkedIn who – coincidentally – were also the inspiration for my Facebook status yesterday afternoon when it read “Kent Woodyard thinks some people need to get over themselves.”

— Kent

TO: Stephen, David, Josh, and Adam

I’d like to add you to my professional network of former college roommates on LinkedIn who were supposed to open a liquor store/sushi bar/off-track betting facility with me but decided instead to get married or deported and – as a result – had to abandon their childhood dreams, thereby forcing me to do the same.

— Kent

TO: Kelly McFarland

I’d like to add you to my professional network of campus recruiters on LinkedIn who I’m sure are now regretting their decision to let a mild case of Tourettes and a few good-natured ethnic slurs come between The Walt Disney Company and a top-notch applicant for the marketing analyst position.

— Kent

TO: Michael, Gary, and Mark

I’d like to add you to my professional network of coworkers on LinkedIn whose inability to “take one for the team” and “loan me the company credit card” will likely result in an uncharitable portrayal in my professional memoirs.

— Kent

TO: Zack (my little brother)

I’d like to add you to my professional network of 8th graders who are on LinkedIn for no discernable reason.

— Kent

TO: Kevin

I’d like to add you to my professional network of Subway Sandwich Artists on LinkedIn whose commitment to plastic-glove hygiene and liberality with the banana peppers will not be forgotten next year when he graduates from his vocational technical institute and enters the real job market.

— Kent

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* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where baseball season never ends. Well, of course, it did end recently, and in fact the Red Sox didn't play a very prominent role this year. But don't take that tone with Ralph Gamelli!

A Red Sox Fan Presents: The Odd Couple

By: Ralph Gamelli

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SETTING

A high-rise apartment building

MAIN CHARACTERS

RED SOX FAN
YANKEES FAN

(RED SOX FAN enters the apartment.)

RSF: Yankees Fan! The ladies are waiting down in the lobby. Aren’t you ready yet?

(A voice responds from the bathroom, which is open.)

YF: Just about.

(RED SOX FAN walks over to find YANKEES FAN bent over the tub, drowning a litter of kittens. RED SOX FAN shakes his head with bemusement.)

RSF: You’re going to make us late. It wasn’t easy to get us this double date with the Pigeon sisters, you know.

(The last of the thrashing ceases. Satisfied, YANKEES FAN straightens up.)

YF: All set. Let’s go.

RSF: Not so fast. Your shirt’s wet. You better go change it.

(YANKEES FAN is annoyed, but complies. He looks at himself approvingly in his bedroom mirror, then steps over to the corner, where there’s a stack of cinderblocks. He hefts one, tosses it out the open window and walks out of the room. From far below come the sounds of shattering glass, shrieking tires and screams. RED SOX FAN is waiting anxiously at the apartment door.)

RSF: That’s the shirt you’re going to wear?

YF: What’s wrong with it?

(RED SOX FAN points at a faded, pinkish stain on the cuff.)

YF: No big deal. Just a little wine.

RSF: It’s blood. Last week at lunch you jabbed your salad fork into the waiter’s neck.

YF: Oh, yeah.

(YANKEES FAN rolls up both sleeves to the elbow.)

YF: Problem solved.

(RED SOX FAN shakes his head and they step out into the hallway.)

RSF: Just don’t embarrass me tonight.

YF: I was going to tell you the same thing.

(An OLD LADY and her young GRANDSON are moving toward them. RED SOX FAN nods politely and hugs the wall to give them room to pass. YANKEES FAN, however, trips the OLD LADY and tells the GRANDSON there’s no Santa Claus. RED SOX FAN rolls his eyes and presses the button for the elevator. They stand in the hall, waiting.)

YF: So who do the sisters like? Yanks or Sox?

RSF: I didn’t ask.

YF: Didn’t ask?

RSF: It didn’t seem important.

YF: Are you crazy?!

(RED SOX FAN puts his arm around YANKEES FAN’s shoulder and grins warmly.)

RSF: Sometimes I think so, buddy. Sometimes I think so.

(YANKEES FAN grumpily brushes off RED SOX FAN’s arm, pulls a pistol from out of nowhere, and plants the barrel against RED SOX FAN’s temple. The elevator door opens. RED SOX FAN steps inside while YANKEES FAN remains in the hall, still aiming his pistol. RED SOX FAN holds the door open for him.)

RSF: You coming?

(For a moment, YANKEES FAN continues to glare at him. Then a grin breaks out on his face and he puts away the gun.)

YF: I’m with you, buddy.

(YANKEES FAN takes out his cell phone, dials the Vatican and calls in a bomb threat, then steps in to join his best friend.)

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* Welcome to The Big Jewel, a veritable gamer's paradise. This week, please welcome Daniel Friedman, whose first piece for us doesn't play by the rules.

Business School Prepared Me To Be The Final Boss of a Video Game

By: Daniel Friedman

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Gentlemen,

It’s my sad duty to inform you of the recent accidental death of our friend and co-worker, the Hammer Knight. He was working in the Volcano Dungeon, and that kid with the Singing Sword showed up. Long story short, Hammer fell into some lava.

Let’s have a moment of silence for him.

Okay.

Now, I’m not looking to place any blame in this matter. Obviously, even though the Hammer Dash was Hammer Knight’s signature attack, maybe he shouldn’t have been doing that while he was on a small platform suspended precariously over lava.

Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have sent a guy whose primary attack was the Hammer Dash to defend the Volcano Dungeon. Maybe suspending platforms precariously over lava wasn’t really a good idea in the first place. That’s on me, and I’ll have to live with it.

Anyway, we’re sending some flowers to Hammer’s wife. Sign the card before you leave.

Now, I know that there has been some discussion about upgrades to our disintegrating bridges and catwalks. We’ve got the kind that dissolve just after the kid steps on them, and you guys want to install a new kind of bridge that will dissolve while he’s still standing on it.

I ran that one by the guys in accounting. Unfortunately, to pave the way for a disintegrating bridge upgrade, we’d have to run a full study on compatibility with our current dungeon systems, and we’d have to re-train all the staff to use the new bridges. With the retention bonuses we’re paying to management, we just don’t have the resources in the budget to do that this quarter.

Next on the agenda, I’m aware of some complaints about the recent memo instructing you to prepare maps of your dungeons for use by visiting upper-level managers and our outside consultants. I know you’re concerned those maps are too easy to find, and that our heroic little friend has been using them to bypass your obstacles.

Well, that’s a small-picture problem, and the senior folks are big-picture guys. So it’s your job to solve this. Management is very busy, and we don’t have time to muck around in a maze full of spike traps all afternoon. The maps stay in the dungeons.

On to new business. Everybody, this magical crystal mirror is of extreme importance. It is the only object that can expose my one weak-point. So as long as that little bastard with the Singing Sword doesn’t get his hands on it, I am unstoppable.

So you know what we have to do with it, right?

No. We can’t destroy it. It has too much sentimental value. It belonged to my grandmother. I know this is a brainstorming session, and I try to encourage thinking outside the box here, but I think I’m going to go ahead and have you flogged for suggesting that.

Guards? Could you seize him, please? Thanks a lot. Great job, guys.

Anyway, here’s the plan: I am going to lock the mirror in a secure vault, in the deepest room of a dungeon, and I am going to give the only key to that vault to Steel Scorpion. Do you know what to do with it, Steel?

No. No, you shouldn’t ready your fastest ship to carry that key across the ocean. If the key is across the ocean, how will anyone unlock the vault? Oh, you didn’t think of that, did you? Well, you’re lucky you’re good at swinging your steel stinger, because nobody is going to pay you for using that insect brain of yours. Or arachnid. Whatever.

Point is, you obviously want to take the key and hang onto it, while you stand in front of the vault. Yes. Right in front of the vault. That way, I won’t have to go find you if I want to look at myself in the magical crystal mirror that exposes my one weakness.

Now, I know your impenetrable metal plates can be plucked off your carapace with the grapple-cannon, so let’s put you and the key and the secure vault and my grandma’s mirror in the dungeon that has the bottomless pit that can only be traversed by grappling along the walls. That way, we get kind of a grapple theme going on. A little motif. Consistency is the hallmark of dungeon design.

Oh, and, Scorpion? Since you’re going to be down there anyway, why don’t you keep an eye on the grapple-cannon as well. Yeah, just find somewhere in the dungeon to stash it.

No, you can’t put the grapple-cannon in the vault with the mirror. Then how will anyone get past the bottomless pit?

What do you mean “exactly?”

No. If he shows up, just kill him. I mean, really. How hard can that possibly be?

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+ Welcome to The Big Jewel, your fervent Apple evangelist. This week our good friend Trevor Macomber gives a shout out to some lesser known recent products of the mighty Mac factory.

A Review Of Some Of The Less Heralded Apple Products Debuting During Steve Jobs’ Leave Of Absence

By: Trevor Macomber

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iMack Truck
Apple’s largest — and therefore most useful — portable media player is designed for extreme audio/videophiles who may already own multiple iPods and yet always seem to need just a little bit more when it comes to storing their collection. With 3,000 cubic feet of cargo space (not including cab), the iMack Truck is capable of accommodating 8 billion songs, 13 billion photos, and nine thousand years of video on 31 petabytes of storage. (Not all at the same time, of course; that would just be ridiculous.) Though the initial response has been positive, some analysts worry about the iMack’s potential market share, as it is necessarily restricted to consumers with a Class A commercial driver’s license and HazMat certification.

iSing
Billed as the world’s first truly edible musical instrument (whistle pops and the short-lived trom-bonbon not withstanding), iSing is a remarkable cake frosting engineered to play a different musical note with each ambrosial bite. In a revolutionary application of fledgling nanotechnology, Apple scientists have succeeded in trapping tonal vibrations within the rigid molecular structure of sugar crystals. When freed from their crystalline confines by a musician’s discerning bite, the vibrations are released into the atmosphere, where they form that bit of aural poetry collectively known as “music.” Of course, given the inherent scale of nanotechnology, it is more or less impossible to actually play any recognizable songs with iSing, as even the most delicate nibble results in an explosion of hundreds of discordant notes and chords—a veritable comestible cacophony! On the plus side, given each melody’s relative minutia and our eardrums’ relative gigantism, it would take approximately one thousand people eating iSing-covered cake at the same time in an enclosed space to produce any audible sounds anyway. Still though, the world’s first edible musical instrument. Wow!

iAtollah
Although not expected to do particularly high volume in the infidel-laden West, Apple hopes that this nifty little gizmo will jump-start flagging sales in the Mesopotamian region, particularly in Iran, where the Apple brand has suffered greatly from an unpopular biblical connotation. While no one is quite sure what the iAtollah is, exactly, inside sources confirm that it should fit easily in the pocket of any thobe, abaya, salwar kameez, or Jordanian Jilab while maintaining the ability to issue a nonnegotiable fatwa against the idolatrous heathen of your choice at a moment’s notice.

iSod
Created by the short-lived Apple spin-off, CrabApple, iSod was intended to make yard work more appealing to the 12-and-under crowd by proving that green wasn’t the only color that a lawn could look good in. However, a worldwide recall implemented after independent quality control agents discovered a massive infestation of African termites living in the inaugural batch led to CrabApple’s rapid dissolution. Chalk one up for the anti-outsourcing argument.

iBelieveiCanFly
George Foreman, eat your reduced-fat heart out. There’s a new minority celebrity pitchman in town, and his name is Robert Sylvester Kelly. Although originally marketed as another genre-busting, demographic-blurring R. Kelly/Celine Dion collaboration in the form of an iMYourAngel JetPack, a last minute contract dispute and Dion’s subsequent dismissal from the project led to a hasty rechristening just days before the propulsion unit’s premiere. Despite setbacks, there is no doubt that the newly dubbed iBelieveiCanFly (or iBiCF, for short) will set a new standard in personal aviation, providing reliable, self-controlled flight for aspiring R&B singers and micturating sex tape stars alike. With a five point cross-suspension safety harness, dual turbo CO2 compressors, and adjustable electro-kinetic wings, iBiCF is sure to be a big hit with anyone who’s been feeling trapped in the closet, not to mention any nine-to-fivers looking to circumvent the bump n’ grind of the daily commute. Plus, with an iBiCF jetpack, leery Lotharios will never have to worry about sharing the same girl again, not when they’ve got their very own pocket rocket to blast her into orgasmic orbit. And since you don’t need a pilot’s license to turn the ignition on this one, the fiesta can begin as soon as your credit card is approved. (Then again, if you’re a gigolo making lots of dough, you might want to strongly consider paying cash in this transaction, as any paper trail is bound to be regretted once the warranty expires and all iBiCF titleholders are automatically charged with 14 counts of soliciting a minor for sexual intercourse.)

iBall
In a surprising attempt to rapidly generate enough capital to fund deployment of its new 3H network, Apple is now charging existing iPhone customers a monthly service fee for each eyeball in their head at the time of purchase. Despite initial industry skepticism, consumer complaints have so far been kept to a minimum thanks to generous program features such as unlimited night vision and dilation, free rollover blinking, and 20/20 hindsight on weekends and national holidays. Can you see me now?

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* Welcome to The Big Jewel, where Halloween is our second favorite holiday (after Guy Fawkes Day). And we can think of no better way to scare off the little monsters than with Frank Ferri's latest.

Please Take One

By: Frank Ferri

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Happy Halloween!

Please read the following carefully, then tick the box next to your name using the pen that’s attached to a chain — and an alarm system. Checking that box confirms that you accept and agree to my Trick or Treating terms and conditions. If you don’t tick the box, chaos could ensue.

Sorry I can’t personally hand you your one piece of candy, but I’m hiding in the house. Why do today’s costumes have to be so scary? Especially those High School Musical characters!

Anyway, I’m trusting in the honor system by leaving this cauldron of goodies on my porch. It goes against my better judgment after last year’s fiasco when I woke up on November 1 to find my name (and a not very nice word preceding it) spelled out in unsalted peanuts on my driveway. I know you spearheaded that roguery, Jimmy Fulton!

This year, I’ve caved. I’ll be giving out candy instead of peanuts. When I was a kid, I was glad to get any nut — salted or otherwise — for free. But “Generation Y Can’t I Have Candy?” made it abundantly clear that only junk food is acceptable.

Here’s a quick guide to the Trick or Treating fun at my house:

— Anyone inside the parameters of Marshall Avenue down to Amherst Way and Cardiff Drive to Granville Lane is welcome to celebrate Halloween with my candy. (It sounds overly restrictive, but if I open the markers of delineation beyond these streets, chaos will ensue.)

— Odd-numbered houses from 3 p.m. – 4 p.m.

— Even-numbered houses from 4:01 p.m. – 5 p.m.

— Houses that are prime numbers, please don’t step foot on my property. I’m sorry, it’s just this thing I have.

— The impish troika of Jimmy Fulton, Keith Starr and Lawrence Morris: don’t even think of taking my candy. I have strategically placed cameras and people watching you — and attack dogs trained to recognize your scent.

Just a few things to note before you take your one piece of candy:

Each week for the past two months, I’ve taken out an ad in the weekly paper announcing my official Halloween Website: frankferri.com/halloween2009. So it should come as no surprise that you needed to register online before visiting my home today. I also let people know not to come near my property on Mischief Night because I don’t suffer pranksters. If you were shot with a BB last night, I can only say that you were forewarned.

If you haven’t registered on the site, you can do so now by running home and logging onto frankferri.com/halloween2009. If you’re spoiled and have your own portable Web-capable device (and a portable scanner and a notary public with you), you can register right now on my porch. Just step aside and let those who followed the rules get their one piece of candy without delay.

Knowing the dullards in my neighborhood — no offense, neighbors — I probably have to repeat this: To register, you needed to enter your phone number, house number and your name exactly as it appears on your parents’ tax return. You also needed to scan and upload your Social Security Card as well as a piece of mail as proof of address. Everything should be notarized.

If you registered, you would have seen the dancing Candy Corn (animated by yours truly), prompting you to choose your one piece of candy from the drop-down menu in the upper-right corner of the screen. You were to have made a selection and so it could be added to your virtual Trick or Treat bag. The candy you actually take must correspond with the selection you made on the Website. Otherwise, chaos will ensue. (If you visited the TIPS & TREATS section on the Website, you’d have seen a tip telling you to print out your virtual Trick or Treat bag so you remember which piece of candy you selected.) I listed the candy in alphabetical order along with nutrition information for the Type 1 diabetic in our neighborhood, little Danny Cardiff. God bless him. But there’s no need to call attention to his incurable illness. Diabetic Danny is just like anyone else. He just can’t have as much fun on Halloween. Or Easter. Or any other sugar-focused holiday.

As you know, I keep things fun each year with a theme. Last year was “Peanuts: An Unsalted Love Story.” This year’s theme is “Ex Ovo Omnia.” So the candy is all different eggs. You’d be surprised how many creme-, caramel- and peanut butter-filled eggs are available even though it’s not Easter.

Kids get all sugared-up and have the potential to turn this fun holiday into an opera bouffe, so I bought a biometric device to keep things running smoothly. The optical fingerprint scanner was going to ensure that everyone got the right egg. But someone (Fulton!) broke into my shed and smashed it beyond repair. The DNA collection drive — which was also going to help avert chaos — was a failure. Turnout was embarrassingly low. (Thank you, Mark Olsen, for being the only one to show up. I wish I could have let you take two pieces of candy, but my Website is pretty basic and I didn’t have time to include some sort of coupon code functionality that would let you override the one candy limit.)

To the left of the candy, you’ll notice a copper samovar. It’s filled with warm homemade cider. If you’ve brought your own drinking vessel (this was mentioned under the TIPS & TREATS section), you’re more than welcome to have one cup. Just make sure it’s no more than a six-ounce serving. Otherwise, chaos will ensue.

As you can tell, I am very worried that chaos will ensue. You’d worry too if someone filled your gas tank with Peanut M&Ms (Halloween 2006). Or if one day, you found that someone left a colorful chair on your porch, ostensibly as a gift. But when you sat in it, you realized (too late) that it was a bunch of gummi worms woven together in the shape of a chair, and you crashed to the ground injuring your tailbone (Halloween 2007). Or when you go to get your morning paper and find unsalted peanuts mocking you in your driveway — well, I already went into that one. The point is that sadly, chaos does too often ensue.

Happy Halloween!

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