David Pierce, still unfortunately with the Wall Street Journal
On Tuesday November 20th the personal tech columnist for the Wall Street Journal tweeted this portentous message:
"Someday I hope to get fired from MY job and handed $30 million on the way out." @pierce
David Pierce, a journalistic wunderkind, had touched a raw nerve among Millennials all over the world, and his apparently whimsical tweet went viral in a matter of hours, spawning the hashtag #Pierceisabsolutelyright
Today thousands of disgruntled Millennial reporters and tech workers from Silicon Valley to the Rift Valley are working feverishly at making Pierce's dream of a premature and wealthy retirement come true for them.
They show up late, spill coffee on their keyboards, have taken up vaping in the bathrooms, wear novelty neckties that read "Up Yours With Hiawatha's Canoe" and otherwise are working hard at being a disruptive, unproductive and demoralizing influence at their company. Of course, nobody has really thought through just how they will manage to be awarded an obscene cash settlement on their way out -- but Millennials are not very detail-oriented. "Something that MIGHT happen WILL happen" seems to be their motto.
When polled by TIME/LIFE about this sudden upsurge in Millennial discontent and revolt, a group of 100 office managers all replied, in essence, "They're no different today than they were last week. What's the big deal?"
Pierce himself, unfortunately, has been unable to get fired from his job at the Wall Street Journal and then awarded a sumptuous amount of cash. But he assures his adoring public that he is trying his best to be his worst.
Rupert Murdoch, putative owner of the Wall Street Journal, is quoted in the London Times as saying "That young pup Pierce? Not bloody likely we'll be letting him go anytime soon; and if we do the only thing he'll get on his way out the door is a set of Pentel Graph mechanical pencils!"
In his spare time, when he's not plotting to be ejected, Pierce enjoys collecting wooden nutmegs, and refurbishing elevator cables. He drives a vintage 1933 Stutz Bearcat and is grooming an army of thrips to take over the world.
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