The 11,318 page tax return showed that the brainiac binary box had income of $636,864,321.90 in 2010 and paid an effective tax rate of 1.246%. A fraction of Watson’s income was earned playing Jeopardy, but a large portion came from playing slot machines in Las Vegas, winning various bar bets, tapping into the Federal Reserve’s computer system and “being lucky enough to find money on the street.”
“This should put to bed for once and for all the fact that my candidate is out of touch with the American people because he is a computer and fabulously wealthy,” said Watson campaign spokesman, C. Wendall Snooty Airs, IV.
“Watson is just like the common working man or woman. He’s Joe Six Pack, Larry Lunchpail, Carl Commoner all wrapped into one. He works hard, pays his fair share of taxes and wants to live the American dream. Elect Watson president and you’ll see, America– he’s one of us! Now then, who here in the press corps would like to repair to the bar for a snifter of Courvoisier L’Esprit and a relaxing Cohiba Behike?”
At various times during 2011, I noticed flurries of mysterious withdrawals from my personal checking account, along with numerous debit card purchases of items I’d never buy in locations I’ve never visited.
Thankfully, my bank, doggedly vigilant on my behalf, recently conducted a thorough forensic analysis of the crimes perpetrated against my checking account.
Frankly, I thought they’d run into a brick wall during their investigation. Banking, after all, often seems as dark and deep as black holes in the cosmos.
To my great surprise, they informed me that it wasn’t one or even a cartel of criminals who’d hoovered my checking account.
Instead, they told me, it was a computer. A very, very smart computer. I know the computer’s name. So do you.
Knowing how news of this event could impact the computer’s political future, I was reluctant to make a federal case out of the whole sordid affair.
Last night, though, I saw a TV commercial for an attorney on a local cable station that made me think I should stop being so damn wimpy. It was a very strong spot. One you’d want on your reel. In it, the attorney, a man dressed in a slick, shiny suit, held his palm up to his chin and delivered the tagline in a gruff, Tony Soprano-like voice: “I got teeth down to here, folks.”
Anyway, I called the attorney this morning and hired him. He suggested going for $125,350 – $100,000 for my pain and suffering, plus $23,350 for all the $25 insufficient funds fees I racked up every time the computer filched money out my account.
All in all, it’s chump change considering the computer’s vast wealth.
(By the way, for a fee on top of the money due me, my attorney says he’d be happy to put his “teeth down to here” persuasive skills to work on any other issue the computer may encounter.)
A TV attorney, you say? I always thought the best attorneys only relied on billboard advertising, but I like the sound of a lawman with “teeth down to here.”
Please be careful, Curvin. I believe many court records are kept on computers these days and your enemy could be quite powerful in the digital world.
It sounds like you have a solid case against this computer who should not be named for fear of retribution or mucking up your driving record and forcing you into painful visits to the DMV.
Proceed cautiously. This computer may also know another computer named HAL who has worked in outer space since 2001. I don’t think you want to cross paths with him, either.
I know all about the devious things a HAL, computer or human, can do.
True.
In space and S.F., no one can hear you scream.