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Out of the Desert comes a man Tall beyond his Height: Mike Keller is WARRANTY MAN
Part 1 Today we find Mike Keller traveling on the business of the World Domination Motorcar Corp. (WorldDommCorp). Mike, having received his Silver Warranty Shiv with Combat W (for five years meritorious warranty decisiveness and mayhem above and beyond the call of duty), is anxious to try it out on some unsuspecting warranty administrator gone astray. Exiting the freeway in his highly optioned Lowlander, Mike Keller anticipates the screaming and yelling as service managers and others feel his shiv slide between their ribs as he eviscerates the excessive fluff and padding common to warranty administrators and slip shod managers of lesser warranty skills. He anticipates slicing into the "Missing Part" repair orders, dicing excess unwarranted Z-time, chopping Goodwill dollars... All with the glee of the Warranty Zealot... The air crackles with the sound of starch fighting a losing battle against the movement of Mike Keller's snow white, long sleeved, Pierre Cardin Knock Off shirt. Readjusting his 3 for a dollar K-mart tie, he slowly lovingly strokes his gleaming warranty shiv. His body ripples and vibrates in delight as he anticipates the struggle and the flow of life forces leaving the husk of what was once a sub-standard warranty clerk... Turning into the rear driveway, Mike Keller tries to be inconspicuous as he looks for a parking spot that will shield his arrival. Finding one he parks quickly and turns off his favorite CD, The Best of the Archies, lest someone were to hear the distinctive selection. Exiting his Lowlander he fairly glides across the lot, until, taking position against the wall adjacent to the parts department, he sees that his movements have gone unnoticed. Slowly his eyes scan his surroundings. Old 4 square sheets, cigarette butts, a discarded People magazine and other sales dept detritus lie scattered and forgotten. Mike Keller wrinkles his nose in disgust, takes a deep breath and chides himself for losing sight of his mission. "Slowly, slowly," he reminds himself. "No sense in announcing my presence just yet." Delicately Mike Keller lifts his PAYLESS (buy one and get one free) loafers and starts for the door. His hand trembles as he draws his warranty shiv. Spotting an innocent warehouseman, he pounces with the speed and cunning of a wounded water buffalo. Pressing his shiv into the back of the man's thigh he whispers, "Not a sound or you will have a VERY permanent limp. Understand?" Looking up he sees his victim nod slightly. "I need to see the ten bin system; do you know where it is?" A nod. "Is there anyone else here?" A shake of the head. "Take me to it, quietly." Trembling for completely different reasons, the unlikely pair make their way to the area reserved for turned in warranty parts. Pulling himself up to his full height, he again looked up into the eyes of his most recent victim and asks "Why are these parts not marked as per the Warranty policies and procedures manual and included bulletin updates which are available through Dealer Daily for your convenience?" "I-I don't know! I swear I don't know!!! The service manager does not enforce any of the rules, see? And the Warranty Clerk is too busy dating the General Sales Manager. They are always taking long lunches at that really fancy steak house..." "Chilis?" "Yeah, yeah that's the place. The techs are told to mark their parts but they just laugh and and curse at us. And they are all dirty and sweaty and they smell, so what are we supposed to do?" Feeling sorry for the weeping parts guy. Mike Keller put a small dainty hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Don't worry," he said, "I will handle this, by all that I hold sacred, I WILL fix this..."
Stay tuned for the next installment of ....
MIKE KELLER: WARRANTY MAN!
Part DOS
When last we left our Hero, Mike Keller was interrogating the parts warehouseman about the lack of a Ten Bin System and promising immediate change... "Okay," Mike Keller said in a soft voice to the quivering warehouseman, "We are going to do this nice and slow. I want you to go upstairs and count all the sheet metal. Take your time. If I see you within the next hour...Skeeekkkk!!", he said drawing the shiv across his throat. The warehouseman, sobbing, nearly fell to his knees, blubbering. "Thank you, Warranty Man! Thank you!" Slowly turning, Mike Keller surveyed his surroundings. Noticing nothing worth his time, he made a mental note to check the warranty shelving later and turned back the way he came and exited. Figuring that the warehouseman would stay out of trouble and not give away his presence, Mike Keller started off to the Service Drive where the real purpose of his mission would culminate in the blood letting of yet another cretin service manager and substandard warranty clerk. He shivered in anticipation as he sheathed his Warranty Shiv. "Soon, Precious, soon you will taste the blood we both crave! Yessss, My Precioussssss, we shall shivs them, nasty little managers, yesssssss....." Making his way past the deserted Showroom, he came upon a scene that was shocking as well as gratifying. The service drive was awash with customers and service personnel in all manner of negotiations. "I said that you need a 30K service!" said the senior service writer as he tightened the head-lock he was applying to a little old lady. "But I had one at 30,000 miles!! ACK!!!!" "I told you it's by time as well as mileage, you old biddy!!!" he said as he shoved her toward the elastic, red velvet covered ropes cordoning off the service drive. He waited for her to rebound and as she came hurtling back he placed a well aimed chop across her chest, dropping her like a sack of potatoes... "Throw this one in the shuttle," he said to a nearby lot attendant who was ducking a flying tackle as another customer sought to leave after an oil change without buying the "recommended" repairs. "Better and better," thought Mike Keller. "All these Customer Pay repairs AND a poor CSI score... All the farther for them to fall when I Shiv them into oblivion!" Spying the Service Manager's fortress with the draw bridge down and the portcullis raised, Mike Keller drew himself to his full height and determinedly stepped past the mayhem still going strong. High stepping past a construction worker locked in mortal combat with a lot attendant who was trying to stuff a DeWalt 12" power worm drive table saw with the extra long table extensions, tool-less blade replacement system, built-in dust collection system and 2 year warranty into the trunk of a Corroba Micro-Compact Hybrid rental car, Mike Keller burst into the Service manager's office. Quickly drawing his Shiv, he quickly dispatched the representative of the Vaseline Oil Company and the rep for Circus Satellite Radio, sending them into oblivion. Kicking the still twitching bodies out of their chairs, Mike Keller deftly installed plastic seat covers over the chairs to keep the blood from staining his Pierre Cardin Knock Off shirt and Angel Flight slacks. Amid much sounds of starch being tortured and tormented, he seated himself. "Achtung!! What is the meaning of... Ahhh... You DO seem to always arrive in somewhat of a flourish, Herr Mike Keller!" "Well met, Mr. Butterreich Süßkartoffel. How's the kidney? Were the Doctors in Berlin able to, uh, how shall we say, help you?" asked Mike Keller, smirking. To himself, "I cut a HUGE notch out of my desk for that one..." Still smirking, he continued out loud, "I feel that a small object lesson tends to get a manager's attention. A kidney is a small price to pay to learn the depth of my displeasure. Consider yourself lucky. Now, shall we get to work or is another object lesson required?" Süßkartoffel blanched at the implied threat and the tone Mike Keller was using. Süßkartoffel thought furiously, "What does he know? Mein Gott!! What am I thinking? He's going to find out and then they will be carting me out feet first like so much day old Strudel... Maybe I can sacrifice the Warranty Clerk und then... Wait!! Maybe there IS a way..." "Before we continue, Herr Keller, please forgive me for failing to immediately offer you some refreshments and making you more comfortable." Reaching for a phone, Süßkartoffel, never taking his one good eye off of Mike Keller, spoke a few words in rapid fire German. For his part, Mike Keller was only able to hear the sharp sound of heels being clicked together on the other end of the phone. Within seconds, 4 large men had removed the unfortunate victims of Mike Keller's disapprobation. Then, opening his desk, Süßkartoffel removed a rather large bottle of Peppermint Schnapps and 2 glasses. This he followed by a plate piled with warm strudel, followed by a rather large plate filled to over-flowing with sausages. Mike Keller sat transfixed by the amount of food that continued to be withdrawn from the one desk drawer. Finally, after disappearing beneath his desk for several moments, Süßkartoffel crawled back out carrying a covered tureen, and the smell of sauerkraut filled the office. "My apologies for the delay, Herr Keller, the staff did not expect you today. Please, help yourself."
Does Mike Keller uncover Butterreich Süßkartoffel's evil plan? Does he eat himself silly? Does he put his Phd in Basket Weaving to good use? How many will fall to his Warranty Shiv?
Stay tuned for the next installment of MIKE KELLER: WARRANTYMAN!!
Part III After gorging his diminutive frame with hot strudel and saurkraut, Mike Keller belched explosively. Squinting against the rather pungent odor and scraping debris from his monocle, Butterreich Süßkartoffel replied "Not to worry Herr Keller, I was planning on replacing these windows anyway." Carefully stepping over the shattered remains of what had been his priceless 12th century Bavarian stained glass windows, Butterreich Süßkartoffel held the door open for Mike Keller and gestured toward the parts department. "Shall we get on with the inspection of this month's warranty parts, Herr Keller?" Mike Keller followed the Service Department Director past the cashier's cage with it's complement of Tawdry Painted Ladies. "Hey Mistah Kella!! How about you buying me a drink after you're done here? I'll even polish your shiv, if ya know what I mean..." the slinky tart said, simultaneously popping her gum and pursing then licking her full, luscious red lips while her lithe form in Dolphin Shorts and crop top started sliding up and down the brass pole supporting the ceiling over the "Cashier's Cage". Quickening his step, Mike Keller swiftly exited the Viewing area and proceeded through the waiting room where the TV blared loudly "This is Black Hole TV!! Our 365 day marathon of A Clockwork Orange will continue after this commercial time out! <pause> It was so sad when Bob found out he had terminal incontinence...." Glancing over he saw that there were customers waiting for their cars. Each was covered by a thick layer of dust, eyes glazed over, a steady stream of drool evident around their slack mouths. He also noted that all the tv controls had been forcibly removed. Yes, this area looked as it should...NOT!!! Feeling his rage rising, involuntarily his hand started to reach for his Shiv Of Justice and Auditing. With a super-human effort of will such that only the one true Warranty Man possesed, he restrained the impulse to immediately draw his shiv. Trembling with the effort, he filed away for future reference this new transgression as he forced himself to follow the doomed Service Director. Soon he was standing in front of what he assumed to be the remnants of the "10 bin" area and what he saw nearly caused him to go Thermo-Nuclear! The 10-bin system was in fact immaculate! All the parts were arranged in order. Copies of the relevant repair orders were in a neat stack in a tray on the side of the shelving units. All the parts had clearly written defects written legibly - LEGIBLY!!! "What kind of trickery is this?" he thought. "There has to be some kind of mistake here. This surely could not be happening..." He felt his shiv go limp in its holster. Turning, he stood slack jawed as he looked Butterreich Süßkartoffel in the eye. Seeing his chance, Süßkartoffel leapt at it. "Ah, yes, here we are, Herr Keller. I hope the 10-bin system meets with your approval. So! I will leave you to your work. I will make sure the Warranty Clerk sees to your needs." And with a self-satisfied smile, a stiff bow and a click of his heels he was gone. Mike Keller stood transfixed, dumbfounded, blown away, stupified, benumbed, overwhelmed and stunned. A single tear slowly rolled down his curvaceous cheek. Since before he had ever received his first rubber training shiv, he had never known this kind of defeat. Never had he left a dealership not having tasted at least some service department blood. He was totally ill equipped to accept this new development and the weight of this failure rested heavily upon his furrowed brow. Mike Keller bowed his head. His shirt crackled as he slouched over to a chair. The sound of the starch losing its battle against the slow inexorable pressure of a man about to collapse. He felt his world crumbling about him. He sat for a time, thinking that there had been many battles, many victories, and that maybe he had finally met his match. The conditions he had seen today, while certainly unsatisfactory, did not warrant a full blown audit and attendant summary execution of the Service Director. "Well, no help but to try and finish this as quickly as possible and take comfort in knowing that even Hank Aaron sometimes struck out..." Soon he was busy checking work orders and invoices against the parts that were supposedly defective. He did not hear the stealthy footsteps overhead as he worked. He had no idea of the danger he was in. "What's this?? A warranty FENDER??!! They have got to be kidding!!!" he smirked as he spun, picking up speed and ricocheting the 1958 Fender Stratocaster Three Tone Sunburst electric guitar (complete with solid maple neck and fret board, humbucker bridge pickup and "double line" Kluson tuners) off the wall and into the nearest trash receptacle. Unbeknownst to Keller, this simple act of Musical Blasphemy saved his life. For, as he was turning in a movement that an Olympic Discus Thrower might envy, it was exactly at that moment that a Toyota 14B inline 4 direct injection Diesel engine crankshaft was dropped from above, glancing off Mike Keller's Sparsely Populated Pate. Though only a glancing blow, it was enough to send Mike Keller spinning toward the black void of unconsciousness. Before he succumbed he noted a shadowy figure above him looking over the railing and another one swiftly removing his right PAYLESS loafer and deftly tying a yellow warranty return tag to his big toe. This was all too much for him to comprehend as the darkness stopped being patient and yanked him into unconsciousness... Stay tuned as we will return with the conclusion to MIKE KELLER: WARRANTYMAN!! next time
Parto Quatro
The last time we left Mike Keller, Warranty Man, slumped in a heap with his extremely heavily starched shirt doing its best to hold him rigid. Slowly and with great deliberation, two shadowy figures worked in unison to tie him securely to a Bremerton Postrunner Pickup Truck Reclining Bucket seat with optional side air bags.
Mike Keller slowly breast stroked his way back to consciousness. Before fully coming back to his senses he thought he heard a distinct “QUACK!!”
Shaking his head to try and clear the fog, he slowly opened his eyes to find his old nemesis Boob Croutonski smiling and stroking his duck.
“QUACK!!!”
“Yes, Sylvia, yes I see our dear Mr. Keller is among the living again. Too bad for him I fear…”
“Quack, quack, quack…”
“Yes, yes, Sylvia that is all well and good but I have further plans for our dear, dear Mr. Keller.”
“I should have known when I saw the warranty shelves-” started a groggy Mike Keller.
“Shoulda, woulda, coulda… Come come, Keller” said Boob Croutonski slowly. “The last time we met it was YOU who held the duck while I struggled. And now we see that he who holds the duck really does have the advantage. And, well, wonder of wonders” he said as he held the duck and stroked its feathers, “I do appear to be free to continue my aborted mission to take over the Service Department and thereafter the world!!!”
“Quack!!!” said Sylvia as she spread her wings and flapped to further make her point.
“Soon, my dear, soon. First we must tell our dear Mr. Keller how our plan came together, our plan for taking over the World Domination Motorcar Company and ultimately how we plan to dispose of him…”
“Quack quack quack”
“Nonsense, Sylvia. That’s how they do it on the late late show. They always fill in the blanks, explain their plan to have world domination and, when told they are mad, to explain the nefarious and often ingenious way the hero is going to die.”
“Quack”
“Yes, I quite agree, I should start at the beginning, Sylvia. You see, Keller, I have always known I was bound for greatness….”
Mike Keller grew faint from the continued onslaught of babble exiting Boob Croutonski’s pie hole. Even the duck, Sylvia, grew weary and tucked its head under her wing feigning sleep but not before rolling its eyes in sympathy with Mike Keller.
“I was not breast fed, you know…”
Mike Keller, with extraordinary superhuman effort succeeded in actually looking interested.
“...always had a problem with diaper rash which, even with all the modern advances in medicine, still haunts me…”
Thinking “Well that explains quite a few things… Too bad it was not terminal…” sudden inspiration struck Mike Keller as he remembered the Golden Shiv cuff links he had had made especially for situations like this. Sharpened to a razor’s edge, if only he could bring them to bear on the cargo netting he was bound with…
“…first grade when I stabbed my first “friend” in the back. You see, he had gotten a gold star on his spelling test and I wanted it. So I told on him to the teacher and said that he had cheated by copying MY test which I had then altered in an attempt to throw him off hoping he would copy the wrong answers and that is why I had gotten a zero while he had all the right answers…”
By now Sylvia the duck was looking for a place to fly to for the winter.
“…and then I took tap dancing lessons when I was eight. Daddy said it would help me learn how to avoid responsibility by ‘tap dancing my way out of tight spots’…”
Even though Mike Keller’s ears had become numb and threatened to leave, never to return, still, he steeled himself to this verbal assault and continued to work at the bonds securing him.
“…when I was voted Biggest Jack Off in High School…”
One hand now free, Mike Keller started on the other. Boob was so self-absorbed in his life story that he failed to notice the slight smile of triumph on Mike Keller’s face.
“…but then all that changed when I found Back Stabbing for Dummies. I had Daddy read it to me while he was tucking me into bed after my first day at Crooked Capers Community College. I really liked looking at the pictures showing the basic and advanced techniques while Daddy explained all the big words with more than 2 syllables… ”
With great dexterity, Mike Keller had by now completely freed himself without even the hint of a crackle from his heavily starched Pierre Cardin knock-off shirt. Yet he did not give himself away wishing to know exactly who was involved in this conspiracy and where it was leading to.
“…and so, now we come full circle, Keller. I am going to put your diminutive frame into your Lowlander and push it into Lake Un-Pleasant making it look like an accident. I will of course have copies of all your paperwork and thus ensure that I am your replacement at the World Domination Motorcar Corp. It truly is unfortunate about Butterreich Süßkartoffel… He was a good Service Manager-“
“You mean- “
“Actually it was Sylvia who was driving the bus that killed him just a few short hours ago. But it was I who threw him under its wheels. You have no idea how long it took me to set him up for the fall you were so gracious to witness. I under-estimated your penchant for being merciful when you only shived his kidney, though. I had hoped to have you kill him thus shortening my unstoppable rise to power… Ah well, power is worth all the little bumps in the road we must go over to achieve it…
“Yes, the toll of back stabbing victims is immeasurable…”
“Thank you. I will take that as a compliment since my Daddy has said much the same thing. And now Mister Keller it is time for you to take a little swim.”
Too late, Sylvia tried to quack out a warning.
A new voice entered the fray: “Stay where you are Croutonski!!”
“Wha-??!!” said Boob Croutonski as he spun around at the squeaky voice of the newcomer.
Out of the shadows strode a thin man. Angular, tall, alter-boyishly good looking, a Bud Abbott contrast to Mike Keller’s Lou Costello. Holding a bronze shiv unwaveringly pointed at Boob’s boob, he cavalierly asked, “You OK, Warranty Man?”
Standing up with a virtual blizzard of starch flying off his shirt, Mike Keller replied, “I’m fine, Neal. How did you know to find me here?”
Smirking, Neal the alter-boyishly good looking sidekick, said “That’s what sidekicks are for, Warranty Man! Actually, that warehouseman you threatened is my kid brother.”
“I never knew!!”
“I have some secrets even you don’t know, Warranty Man. But judging by the neatly sliced through cargo net and that PostRunner seat, you were in no real danger. Resourceful as ever, I see.”
“Comes with the territory, kid.”
“What do you want to do with him?” Neal said, motioning with his head toward the quivering lump of lard known as Boob Croutonski.
“I have just the thing for him. We need a new Shiv Target at WTC.”
“Good idea. We do seem to go through a lot of people at the Warranty Training Center-“
But before they could take the quivering spine-less dung heap into custody, Sylvia flew into Warranty Man and, honking his ample right hooter, caused enough of a distraction to allow Boob Croutonski to side step the thrust of Neal’s shiv and in a blizzard of starch fragments make his escape.
Momentarily stunned they both heard Boob Croutonski’s parting squeal, “You just wait until I tell my Dad!!! You’ll both be sorry!!! DAAAAD!!!!! Your going to both be really sorry you ever messed with me! DADDY!!!!” and on it went until his voice faded in the distance.
Recovering, quickly and wiping the starch out of his eyes, Neal asked “Should I go after him?”
“No, don’t bother. Guys like that always turn up. And besides all we need to do is put in a request for information on all users of industrial grade Desitin. I always knew that guy was a pain in the ass and now I know why…”
Arching one well manicured eyebrow, Neal acknowledged the intelligence and experience of his Warranty Crusader Boss. “By the way, I have a new set of orders and a package from George Bilson. Seems the Omnipotent, All Seeing, All Knowing, Head Dude in Charge wants you to take over at the new Cion division.” Neal smiled as he handed the orders and a package to his mentor.
Quickly, Mike Keller, Warranty Man, scanned the orders confirming his promotion. Then, turning his attention to the accompanying package, he opened it to find a set of keys to a Cion CT and another smaller package. Opening this, he found a Golden Shiv.
Smiling and humming the opening tune to Warranty Wonka and the Shiv Factory as he headed to his new car, he then surprised Neal and broke into full voice and sang:
Because I’ve got a Golden Warranty Shiv And I’m going carve a lot of cretins!
Finis
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