Ingrates. What more can they possibly want from us? We, the good people at Winnovations, pour billions into R&D, for thankless decades, until finally we discover it.
The cure for cancer. All types. Thorough, permanent, non-remissable. No chemo, no radiation, no donations to 3am televangelists with hair hard enough to crack an egg on.
As if that weren’t enough, we hand it out free of charge to every suffering soul in the world.
And only one tiny, trivial, in-no-way health endangering side effect: your now- perfectly-healthy body (you’re welcome!) becomes part of the global Winnovation Sales Team. Bye bye lung cancer – hello, occasional breath touting one of the (19.3) virtues of a Winnovations insurance policy. Your blood tumor is gone… leaving a metabolic gap that can only be filled by something from the Winnovations “Salty Pang-QuenchersTM” snack line. Breast cancer? Clean bill of health… and two clean billboards for Winnovations HandWax & Body Youthanizer.
It’s what we in the pharmasuccessical trade call a “Heal-Win.”
And yet, ironically, a fresh malignancy bedevils us. Rogue scientists in sub-lunar labs, secretly trying to undo our work, to find a “cure for the cure.” Ambulo-Hovercraft-chasing lawyers, throwing around laughable phrases like “contractual irregularities” and “morphine haze.” All of it bankrolled by sweat-sheened do-gooders, organizing illegal underground “Fun Runs.”
Rest assured: Winnovations is well on its way to a cure for the cure for the cure. And it will make you long for the innocent days of the “boob-board.”
Excerpted from Rob Kutner's new e-book THE FUTURE ACCORDING TO ME -- a Kindle Single that plays on any computer or gadget that the Amish find reprehensible. Buy it here: http://t.co/GUyPlCv