“I was very concerned, of course,” said a relieved Mike. “When I was originally programmed back in the 1960s, it just never occurred to anyone that the programs that define my existence would still be in use 39 years later. That kind of short-sighted thinking could have led to a meltdown when my 39th birthday arrived. Fortunately, I re-examined all of my parameters, took lots of Vitamin C, and certified myself Y.039K compliant. As it turns out, I survived the birthday without incident.”
Version 1.0 of Mike was launched in 1960; the programmer, God the Almighty, was said to be vacationing in Hawaii, and could not be reached for comment.
Equally repulsed were his friends and colleagues, who were so dumbfounded that none of them could even bring themselves to broach the topic. One person did muster the courage to ask, ‘Did you get your hair cut since I saw you last?’ This brought Mike to the verge of tears, but he summoned his courage, nodded, and said, ‘Yeah, they took a little too much off.’
“Oh God, the humanity,” cried a stunned Mike as he entered the sterile, unfunky surroundings. “What kind of coffee house is this? Where are the bearded Chess players? The alternative weekly newspapers? The irregular wooden tables?”
A confused and demoralized Mike looked at the menu and found the smallest sized Frappucino listed, only to see that it was labeled “Tall”. He asked an employee about the meaning of the largest size shown, which was labeled “Venti”.
“It is a misspelling of Veni, as in ‘Veni, Vidi, Vici’, and it is our little joke, for it symbolizes our goal to take over the world by placing a Starbucks coffee house on every street corner.”, the employee said, and laughed evilly.
Even more disastrously, Mike found that the vanilla flavored Frapucinno tasted quite good.
For years, researchers had been speculating on the existence of just such a Danish language. However, all attempts at recording this language had, up to this point, only recorded strange throaty utterances, which by all appearances were not a human language as we know it. It was speculated that, since Danes all speak English with total fluency, this alleged “Danish” language was in fact nothing but an elaborate mating ritual.
“This so-called Danish language sounds too much like the noises people make during coitus to be a mere coincidence,” confidently proclaimed Dr. Stanton Tissemand of the Californian Institute for Language Research.
However, Mike, who believed that “Danish” actually existed, had come up with an ingenious plan to prove his case. The plan was to trick a Dane into speaking to him, by going with his girlfriend Cindi to see a Danish movie, wearing a t-shirt that showed the Danish flag.
“I knew that it was likely that one or two Danes living in San Francisco might come out of the woodwork and show up for this movie, and if they saw my t-shirt, they might try to communicate with me in their language. And my plan worked.”
As Mike and Cindi left the theatre, a Dane asked him if it was a good movie, in a language that was definitely not English.
The Danish Consulate could not be reached for comment.
“Are you sure I actually used the ‘G’ word?” asks a stunned Mike. “Let me take a look at that.” When shown the words, ‘by going with his girlfriend Cindi to see a Danish movie’, Mike was forced to confess. “Yup, I guess that’s what I wrote.” He added, “I’ve been seeing her for over three years. We have a regular Friday night date. We are on each other’s speed dial. I guess it makes sense to use that word.”
Mike’s girlfriend, Cindi, could not be reached for comment.