So they started a vulture venture capital company called 'Web Wescue.' "Hyuck hyuck hyuck... all those dumb-ass dot com start-ups. Never had a chance. And now we can get 'em cheap, turn 'em over to another group of dumb-ass dot comas and be sipping the scotch and seltzer while our dough triples in that Swiss bank! Hyuck hyuck hyuck!"

"That is rich, friend, rich hyuck hyuck hyuck! We'll dazzle 'em with even new metaphors like interstitial and viral marketing and before you can say 'I need a new pair of big floppy shoes' we'll be the saviours of the world wide web hyuck hyuck hyuck!"

One day when the MBA clowns were filling out their tax returns, there was a gas leak in the neighboring office. Since Web Wescue did not bother installing a Carbon Monoxide detector in their swish downtown loft, they were dead before they could write off their big floppy shoes.