Russell - Known Shippable, Will Not Fix

Known Shippable,

Will Not Fix

By

Roy W. Russell

This publication is protected under the US Copyright Act of 1976 and all other applicable international, federal, state/provincial and local laws, and all rights are reserved, including resale rights: you are not allowed to give or sell this book to anyone else. If you received this publication from unauthorized distributors, you've received a pirated copy (please purchase this through legitimate channels, thank you).

Any trademarks, service marks, product names, celebrity names, song titles, album titles, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental, this is a work of fiction. There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.

Copyright 2017 Roy Russell. All rights reserved worldwide.

ISBN: 978-0-692-77248-5

>Dedication.txt

For Solie, we miss your big heart and your loving sense of humor.

>Initialize Book.exe

1. Look up to the top edge of this book or e-reader device.
2. Look down at the bottom edge of this book or e-reader device.
3. Look to the right edge of this book or e-reader device.
4. Look to the left edge of this book or e-reader device.

User visual calibration completed?

If (Yes) continue. If (No), repeat steps 1-4.

>Adjust Gamma

5. Adjust ambient room lighting to ensure a pleasant reading experience, or utilize the free burning ball of fire in the sky (but please remember to use sun screen).

>Saving progress on analog media

Ensure you have an appropriate saving device to not lose progress when reading this book. A slip of paper, receipt, or if youre a dirty one percenter* a bookmark will suffice. E-readers should have built in functionality to save your progress automatically, yay technology!

* If youre a one percenter and want to adapt this book into a movie I was just kidding, youre probably not dirty. You probably smell nice.

>Mature Content Rating

This book features graphic violence, mature language, more fantastical graphic violence, end world scenarios, and suggestive slang. Content not intended for readers under 17 years of age. If you read this to your kid at bedtime... I dont even have words. Just dont do it.

Robot Alien God

T HE SODA IS FREE; AT least he had that.

Casey has little going on in his life at the moment, just work. This will only be a part time gig until he gets his degree and until, hopefully, hes recruited and devoured by a big giant soulless mega corporation with a 401(k) and medical plan. This job, it doesnt have a 401(k) or medical plan, just a minimum wage paycheck and free soda from the machinebut only when its restocked by someone making more than him.

Maybe he should get a job stocking vending machines, travel and meet new people, and each new day would present a fresh challenge to take head on? But he hates traffic, hates the fake way people talk to each other, and the rut hes settled into at the moment is comforting. Casey doesnt hate his job; he doesnt complain about it when he gets home from the hour and a half commute out of Novato to his little home in Santa Rosa. If he could make more money, maybe one day he could find a place within a respectable driving or walking distance from the office. But this slice of California, Marin County, gets even more expensive the closer you get to San Francisco.

There will come a day, though, that these free sodas will be his undoing. It will either be cavities and root canals he cant afford to treat, or obesity and heart disease, maybe some diabetes on the side, because thats how this universe works. There is a sickening order to the way life unfolds. It almost seems as if things are meant to fail, and when they do, its spectacular.

Now, all Casey wants to do is watch a cat try to jump across a gap between two balconies. He heard the other guys laughing about it at lunch. Fancying himself an elite hacker, he bypassed the corporate protections that prevented him from updating his web browsers video playing capabilities. He utilized the most advanced form of social engineering to get the password required to update his workstation: he begged his supervisor for permission.

Mindlessly clicking the install buttons too hastily, he stares at the mistakemocking him now. Where he should be looking up data references, ensuring the software doesnt infringe on any copyrights that would result in lawsuits, his browser has been hijacked by a toolbar that redirects his search queries to useless websites selling unregulated medical supplements promising to add up to twelve whole inches to a stalk of corn he is not growing.

Casey, defeated, is unable to uninstall the toolbar. This will require the intervention of a higher power. He asks his supervisor to visit the IT department and makes a request to have his workstation remotely restored to a backup state created before lunch, before he heard the hilarious story of a cat jumping into oblivion.

What would happen if he tried jumping onto his neighbors balcony? Would he miss? Maybe shed greet him with her bright smile and wide blue eyes? Hed probably miss. Or worse, the Russian mobster guy with the gold chain necklaces would be there instead, and hed chuck Casey six floors down to the emergency room.

He can hear the laughter as he approaches the barely open white aluminum door. Why do these guys get a cool white aluminum door? What makes them so special? They dont even sit in OSHA approved ergonomic chairs either. Wherever they found them, it seems theyve declared themselves royalty, with their old wood throne replicas probably stolen from the Renaissance fair down the road.

Howard, the IT guy, looks up from his tablet, barely making eye contact with Casey. What did you do now?

This is the first time Caseys ever needed IT to unscrew- up a mistake, and he feels hurt by the question. My workstation was hijacked by a toolbar. It wont let me search resources correctly.

Howard sighs, leaving Casey waiting for a reply. The two IT guys sitting behind Howard are watching the cat jumping video, enhanced with a song perfectly in sync when the cat jumps. Casey tries looking past Howard and through the two to see it, but instead, Howard coughs to get his attention and says, There, its done, can you leave us now. Were busy. Bye.

Casey hadnt even seen him Alt Tab to one-button restore his workstation. He once considered applying to IT, but it would have meant giving up his humanity. No, he thinks, I choose to not be a snarky robot alien god.

Casey returns to his desk to catch up on the five minutes he lost walking down the hallway and back. He knocks out the test plans and whips up the build notes his supervisor has been taking credit for the past year. Sitting down after opening another soda, he sees the note smack dab in the middle of his monitor. The toolbar has been replaced with a yellow note that simply says: See Babb Now.

Working in QA isnt grueling work; it can be fun at times. Testing the software being coded from higher up the totem pole will help Casey appreciate properly written software when he gets hired to write some. At least, thats what he tells himself.