The tragedy of the tutu

This is what I apparently do instead of research.

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Subject: This shall not stand!

I write to you, gentle-folk, to tell you of a travesty of staggering proportions. I arrived in the systems lab and immediately felt, in the depths of my soul, that something was deeply, deeply wrong. For a time, I could not fathom what was amiss, but the room felt dark, as if a savage murder had been committed here many years ago.

It was only when R pointed, her hand quivering as her brain undoubtedly struggled to process the savage deed, at the garbage can that my malady gained focus. My face blanched, and my jaw dropped agape, as I beheld the horror.

There, cruelly scrunched in pink mourning, lay my beloved tutu.

It is here that I must hastily remind you to breathe, gentle reader, for I was quick to save the poor thing from its fate. Disaster has, fear not, been averted. But, oh, the savagery of it! That the clearly soulless walking corpse that Shall Not Be Named but shall be referred to only as ******** ******** could behold the majesty of such a tutu, could be bathed in its wonder, and still, with malice aforethought and cruel intent, brazenly toss it in the garbage as one might a common candy wrapper or banana peel, shakes me to my very core!

What has this world come to, I ask you! What depraved state has this world decayed to that a tutu...a shiny, elegant, pink tutu...should, instead of inspiring the beholder to exclaim with glee, "Oh! The joy! The wonder! Let us hold a Pretty Pretty Princess Party in celebration of such a fine specimen of a tutu such as this!", incite a colder, darker response more along the lines of, "Bah! What a wretched tutu! Quickly! Brush it into the waste bin like so much refuse so that this one piercing ray of hope and light in my horrible world can be extinguished and I can return to my dull, dreary existence of kicking puppies and raping chickens (or vice versa)"?

This shall not stand, friends! This is a call to arms! If you are not part of the solution, you are part of the problem! Stay vigilant! You may think to yourself, "Surely _I_ could not return to my office to find a tutu massacred into a wastebasket! Such tragedies only befall the morally corrupt and the less attractive! Surely I will never endure such trauma!" If you delude yourself thus, know this, friends: I was once like you. I skipped through life as you do, oblivious to this dark, savage side of the human spirit. But then today happened, and I will never be the same. Part of me died today, and the human soul is a delicate thing that, like a central nervous system neuron, is bestowed upon birth and cannot regenerate if damaged.

So take care, dear comrades. Nefarious forces are at work. Cast not a blind eye towards such depravity. The soul you save may be your own.

Nick

P.S. To pre-empt the obvious question, no, I don't actually ever do any real work. Just ask ******** ********.