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Blender Manufacturer Admits Buttons All Perform The Same Function

In a surprise bold move executives at moxycorp, makers of the popular Colonel Tornado brand blender line, announced Sunday they are eliminating all but one button on their newest design.  According to engineers the uni-button, labeled 'mix', makes it easier for consumers to decide where to stab their dirty fingers when it's time to grind.

Courtesy: The Blender Museum, Tornk, Moon Base 19


Several spectators of the event have been diagnosed with acute mental breakdown. 

"The extra buttons were a sham," admits Tom Court, design team lead at moxycorp, "we put them there as part of a concerted effort to dupe the masses.  In the 1950's there was this vain need to feel superior and the suits could always bilk the flat-tops, whether it was over a pickup truck or a staple kitchen appliance was scarcely important."

Consumers were outraged but docile.  In fact, this article, the de facto white paper on the subject, has never been syndicated to-date.

The irrefutable facts

"To be honest, I've known for years that something was wrong.  I'd press purée but my appliance performed the same as if I had pressed chop.  Inside, it was the exact same result - the items I placed within the contraption were rendered into mush.  I never thought about it much.  I was such a fool.  How I came to regret my ignorance.  This is the exact same thing that happens at the Academy Awards," said Hal Smith, bicycle mechanic and spokesperson for the consumer vanguard dubbed The Chosen Ones by the land-dwelling grays who encompass their following and power base.

Linda Watkins of the Society for the Preservation of Common Kitchen Appliances issued a scathing letter to moxycorp Tuesday, calling for the resignation of chief design engineer Alicr Q. Bfangr.

"The button changes on the new blender are cynical and unnerving.  What are we going to do when we just want to mince?  I want government out of my kitchen.  The next thing will be state instituted anything goes, open-door policies, and amnesty programs.  A free lunch wealth redistribution.  Where's the line?  What's next?  Slippery slope much?  Not on my watch!"

Bfangr defended his decision before a reactionary crowd that opened fire more than 67 times Tuesday in Barstow.  It was later learned that the majority of the gunmen were seemingly reasonable, mid 30's, middle-class business professionals of European extraction. They were each exonerated Tuesday evening by Chief Justice Marcus Tuckys, although he went on to issue censure for what he called, "grossly wild marksmanship" which drew fire from pundits on both sides of the rifle.

Shifty eyes

"I was sent to fix a problem," said Bfangr, "it was apparent to me that it doesn't really matter, up to a point, how fast the blades macerate the input product.  Everything is going to be slush within seconds.  Even pulsating routines proved to be absolutely no different than a standard Cockeresque rrrrrrrrrrrr that is the de facto go-round meat-and-bones of the blender mechanism, what the beatniks call a trip-in-blades."

When asked about mincing, Bfangr was clear and to the point.

"You want to mince, use a food processor.  You want to blend, there is but the Shakespearean choice - to push or not to push," he said, pointing to the design plans of the Dr. Tornado Unity, "you know, stop being babies about everything....  I want to add that babies usually love our products..."

Where the buffalo roam

Rivals at Straight Lace Ltd. keyed up to add even more buttons, with 27 new options, to their Jones Kool-Aid brand grinders and blade-twirlers in time for the mid December slushy sales rush.  With Red Friday rapidly approaching, very few are acting in their own best interests (least of all babies).

"If it whirs," touts a mass email released Wednesday, "it needs more buttons.  Stay with the brand that is traditional and just like you'd expect it to be, and not something different that will make you seem out-of-touch next to your younger kinfolk."

Not to be outdone, Arkansas startup Device Ltd. has issued a solar-powered blender that has no switch of any kind and absolutely no chord.  It can blend any substance for 15 seconds before requiring 24 hours of direct sunlight.  It cannot be turned off between charges and has a tendency to catch fire.  It cannot be turned off once it is on fire.  Douse it in potassium bicarbonate, then carefully remove the battery.  The device may re-ignite and continue to burn for up to 3 hours after the battery is removed.  If it is near a tinderbox, be extra cautious, according to experts.

"In my experience," said Thelma Darvance, founder, from a podium, "a switch just gets in the way of a good blend.  And again, for anyone that has not been paying attention, I want to repeat the warning: please don't use them near a tinderbox."

Built to last

Following Device Ltd's announcement, moxycorp tweeted that it would seek damages from Device for what it called, "grossly repugnant attitudes" and "disgusting and verging on defeatist strategies," besides hinting that Device's new product does not qualify as a true swirly-blades, calling it a "gross bastardization of the art," and a "solar monstrosity"

"At least I'm not passive aggressive," commented a pundit on glassy-jones.com.

The tweet and backhand were so powerful that Chief Justice Marcos Tuckys Thursday issued a summary bench judgment condemning the stupidity and "purely reckless" course of Device, going so far as to forbid any dealings with Device in the future.

Saturday the other eight justices issued a dissenting vote, mentioning not without irony that one of the essential ingredients of the court is to allow each justice the unfettered right to cast a vote in all cases, referring to the fact (as essential background information) that Justice Tuckys has been deciding every case on his own, most often against the majority, most often opposing all eight, since being appointed by President Fisher XCVII last month at a secret, unpublished meeting.

"I don't have the original constitution.  No one does.  That was destroyed or lost.  The individual responsible is cursed forever.  But I will bet you money that this is not the way this is supposed to be done," said Tom Egrands before being strangled by thuggish gentleman in an exclusive Las Vegas neighborhood.  The only witness to the incident has been upgraded to celebrity status by virtue of what he saw.

15 minutes of the same

"I'm simply minding my own business, head down in my phone, corner of the eye, and I saw a guy go this way," says Rathgard Thomas of Hillpack, star witness, pointing viciously, "then I see another guy, he's going that way.  Next thing, a third guy comes from that way.  My battery is going dead but, another guy comes, this time, from a different way, from THATAWAY.  So I'm just standing there sending a text, I look over, just then, and still a fifth guy, with a snide look on his face, he's going thataways, comes up to me like this [acting squirrely] then they bing some suit and ran to a knoll for some reason.  I checked my email and facebook and then went straight home," he finished curtly, adding, "I never understood the significance of the evening, but I'm a celebrity now so it doesn't matter."

No word on when the new blender is scheduled to hit the shelves, but Thelma Darvance has threatened that when it does, her and her group plan to flood the aisles with the blood of Bfangr and his "unnatural blender blasphemy".  The final solution is expected to result in the obliteration of more than 20% of the world population.  Several Preppers have begun bug-out procedures in advance of the event.  The cost of a standard tinderbox has risen over 800,000% since the time this article was written.

"It isn't really enough," said Mary Ffltr, a descendant of the obscure moon colonists who arrived 63 years ago with the express purpose of fostering the untimely destruction of all human society (codename Sermon Green), "we are going to need a bigger virus."

Society fights back, or, penny carpet

At a meeting held to discuss the threat posed by one-trick "honest" blenders to society, a man (to whom no one was paying any attention) scratched the chalkboard with his fingernails near the back of the assembly.  Everyone turned with a start.  The sinister lump was Arthur Front, former Chair and founding member of the Nazzzco Medical Group.  He appeared the soft-hearted codger but of deranged, unkempt disposition.  His eyes darted like gila monsters after a shoe-fly.

"I haven't had a Chance to look over the case file," he said with a tilted grin, "But we have our backs to the wall...led me to ask myself, what does a hellhound do when it's back is to the wall?  What does it do?  Shake a bucket of pennies.  Exactly.  No question about it...  I recommend we hit them where they live: their preoccupation with golf.  I'm going to flood the course greens and sand pits with freshly minted coinage, one cent by the trillions.  The shiny copper ones.  The metal is a salient flavor in those numbers.  The rich slobs will vomit on their parkas.  On God we fussed.  They will beg us for a chance to redeem themselves, and we will present this blender issue, and they will correct it from their boardrooms, all will go home happy, no one will be left out, America will finally be true to her credo.  Founding fathers will weep, rain out their tombs, men will be required to fix the problem, plumbers most likely, and then the historians will have a chance to tidy up all the loose ends for the generations, to be fostered from the age of 4, in all souls to be born in the land, a recital in pre-k learning dens.  The alternative is infinite mega-death.  I only want all the reward money in exchange for my labor, and not to share any of it with anyone."

A silence fell briskly.  A reward had never been offered.  No one spoke for three minutes, with perplexed glances uncomfortably omnipresent.  Front produced a bag of pennies poured in a fresh 5-gallon bucket as his idea of a demonstration, styling as a circus performer upon completion to painful silence, a whincing distraction in its train-wreckedness.  Two young men flung themselves out the window and ran as fast as they could, nude, headed directly for N.A.T.O. territory.

"Who called this meeting?" asked a third dullard, ducking quickly as trash projected in his direction from all four corners of the dank meeting room with the tattered flags gathered shamefully in an odd corner under a dust that grew a face and republican personality.

Six minutes passed in neck-deep hush and anyone in the room was as a sinner for comfort.  The looks turned to grimaces and before long violent shock.

"I suggest we just walk back home," said the voice of reason, who shrank at the bolts of hatred and mean-spirit that darted towards her as a satanic gathering that was disturbed by an outsider in the midst of a highly specific ritual commencing over a very rare moon.  All walked on eggshells and donned kid gloves but could not avoid being walloped on the gurney at every step.

The measure of all things

"Bahahaha," laughed Front, now lying on the floor with a propped hand resting under his head, "how exactly what they want you to do... couldn't do it anyway... point is irrelevant for all factors on plane x... the fabric of society, that priceless worm-infested ash haven.  Those nude men are doomed."

The voice of reason was last seen diving headfirst off a steep cliff.

Front was later arrested and confined pending further monitoring.  Sources inside the asylum, where he was taken shortly after the incident, have stated that he seems perfectly normal although most were quick to point out that such a condition is exactly (and no less than) perfect insanity given the gravity encompassing his will to power and the violence that takes place every day with onlookers unaware that the solution is within their own idle hands gathered among death machines and legions of grim-stallers to reign in the very end of all existence for the umpteenth time already.

Due to the controversy surrounding the subject of this article, absolutely no commenting will be permitted.  In the words of Safrsoi, poet of the Sermon Green, published minutes after the announcement, "please respect our privacy in this time of the button madness."

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