I was going to hire a ghost writer to do this for me but then I decided to adopt a basket of puppies instead.
Once upon a time there was this basket of newborn puppies. Their mother, a dog without a boss, had died when giving birth, and they were out in the cold. Coincidentally they had been left near the doorstep of Sarah McLachlan, the ~* Canadian Dance Music Singer *~. She had a heart of gold and adopted the pups like I would have done, and took care of them. However, the pups just vied for her attention, causing her to lose a lawsuit against a ghostwriter who was sueing her (for he had made a significant contribution to her debut album). Furious about her loss, she let the dogs out, to never let them in again...while the ghostwriter has all Sarah's money now.
The pups were set to get revenge. They grew up on the rough streets, learning they could not trust anybody but themselves. As they had many mouths to feed, but no boss to do so, they had to resort to theft and deceit. And one day, the moment was there. They saw the ghostwriter that had turned McLachlan's life upside down, and launched a full-scale biting attack.
However, the ghostwriter was not unprepared. All along he had been waiting for the time when the pups would attempt to avenge their ill fate, and so he brought his own horde of highly trained, collegue ghost writers. It was a long intense fight, and there ended up being many casualties. In the end, all of them were lying on the streets, wounded, bruised, in pain. They would all die out of suffering if they were not to receive medical treatment.
Unfortunately, not even the guys from the Dog Rescue Pages Forum think animal ambulances should have as much traffic priority as the regular, blue-sirened ambulances, so while the horde of ghost writers could be saved, it was too late for the dogs.
The ghostwriters were supposed to be ready for any level of abuse and psychological torment. They were supposed to be able to ignore any obstacles in their relentless pursuit of finishing their tasks for their famous and abusive bosses. When an enemy group left a basket of puppies inside the ghostwriting dorm, the horde of ghostwriters was torn and distracted for the first time in years.
Everything went to hell in no time at all. All of the female ghostwriters wanted to go cuddle all the puppies any time they heard the merest whimper. Most of the males were immune, but not all. One of the males said they should just throw them outside, arousing the fury of all the women and causing him to be promptly scorned. Fearful at losing a chance at sexual opportunities, the rest of the men promptly abandoned any ideas of that sort of path to a solution.
The debate carried on: turn them into animal control, play with them, lock them in another room, put up fliers... Finally, one of the women agreed to take the puppies to her house and care for them until she could find them homes, despite having to give up her ghostwriting duties for the time being. The other ghostwriters agreed to pick up her slack and skimp on sleep if necessary. They finished their work on time, but ended up even less happy than ever. While technically this means that the puppies inflicted damage, they did not win in the end.
Jejune X. Pressionless sat in his tower overlooking the empire of his corporation, Stolid Inc. Things were not looking good for Jejune. Two months ago, he had realised that he needed new buildings to store his machines that automatically construct automatic machines. His headquarters had reached their bounds however -- and what stood in the way was the local dog pound.
He had sent the local council representative, Barren Prosaic, several letters outlining the situation and requesting permission to force out the mangy mutts nextdoor, but he had been met with stark opposition from the owners of the pound, who had demanded that he back off. Barren had denied Jejune's request several times, and so he had taken what he believed to be the appropriate measures and sent unspecified amounts of cash in his subsequent letters. Barren pocketed the cash and replied that he would more carefully consider the request of Stolid Inc.
When the dog pound received their eviction notification, the owners were horrified. They replied to enquire what had changed in the circumstances, and purely from the tone of the reply, they gathered what had happened. It was the head manager of the dog pound that made the decision to respond in kind. Delivered to the doorstep of Barren Prosaic's new mansion was a basket of the most adorable puppies that the corrupt council representative had ever laid his eyes upon. It was love at first sight. Barren immediately cancelled the eviction and sent a letter to Jejune stating that upon further review, his application had been rejected once more.
Jejune couldn't stand for this. He was furious. He decided that the main fault in his methods was his ineloquent writing, so he hired every ghost writer within a 50 mile radius of the town to form the most professional horde of ghost writers ever to collaborate on a persuasive letter. For three days and three nights, the ghost writers debated on the state of the letter, and finally they agreed that the finished product was beyond perfection.
Barren was playing with his puppies when he received a visit from the postman, who delivered the letter addressed to him from Jejune. He opened it, expecting further ranting about how the business executive was in dire need and how the dog pound was insignificant and could be moved into the local dump, but was instead taken aback by the magnificently crafted spectacle of a letter that the horde of highly trained ghost writers had written. Before reading any of the other letters he had received, he typed up a final notice of eviction and mailed it off to the dog pound, and replied by fax to Mr. Pressionless to tell him that he had never before read such an amazing piece of literature and that the dog pound was as good as gone.
His other mail consisted of a notice that his new property and his dogs were to be confiscated due to an investigation into how he had attained them turning him up as being guilty of accepting bribes, but Barren Prosaic didn't care. He still had the letter.