Doctor Swift

Doctor Swift stands before a group of men.

"These Red Charts show that The Problem is up by one million percent." He points at the drawing as the room shifts in discomfort.

Another man puffs his pipe and says, "indeed".

Murmuring fills the room as the conference beings.Swift stands ready. A ramble of half-wits and decrepit wind-bags ensues. The fools.

"What should be done about it," a man exclaims.

"Well," Swift interrupts, "we shall dispatch an ensemble of well trained men." He pauses. "In order to--cure--our patients of their afflictions and, in doing so, we shall simultaneously discover quite the lucrative venture."

A raucous cry sounds through the room.

Swift proclaims over the cries, "being men of reason I assume its a right proper idea, isn't it?"

"Hear hear." A bloated beast taps his glass upon the table and the room responds in kind.

HEAR! HEAR! HEAR! HEAR !