"[CRICKETS CHIRPING]" "What are you doing?" "I'm posting false information on the Web." "Why?" "It's fun." "Someone picks up a strand of false information, spreads it around, and before you know it, a panic is created." "Then you just sit back and watch the chaos." "And figure out a way to exploit it, no doubt." "You say that as if it's a bad thing." "I don't think that is what the World Wide Web was created for." "Ah, that's where you're wrong." "Do you have any idea how difficult it was to spread rumors before?" "Mailings, cold calling." "Sometimes, I had to go door-to-door." "It was a real pain." "Thanks to the new technology, my productivity has increased." "Just in the last couple of years," "I've been able to create fear about cell phones, power lines, and organ theft rings." "You must be very proud." "It's fulfilling." "Well, the last thing I want to do right now is sit in front of a computer screen." "My neck is all stiff, and I'm blurry-eyed from sitting all day in my cubicle staring at one." "Hmm, you don't say." "What are you doing now?" "Do you ever feel anxious, tired or depressed in your cubicle?" "I've never felt any other way." "Cha-ching." "Symptoms include blurred vision, muscle joint pain, anxiety, fatigue, depression." "The conclusion is inescapable." "Symptoms of what?" "What conclusion?" "An epidemic of chronic cubicle syndrome." "Did you say "chronic cubicle syndrome"?" "Hearing loss..." "You just made that up." "Correction:" "I have discovered a heretofore undiagnosed condition." "There is no such thing as chronic cubicle syndrome." "Initially, victims exhibit denial." "But you have no proof." "Oh, I have something much better than proof." "Anecdotal evidence." "Who do you think would be dumb enough to believe anecdotal evidence?" "Oh, I've narrowed my target market to... people." "I have news for you." "We people are smarter than we look." "How hard would that be, really?" "Personally, I require scientific evidence before I believe anything." "No, you don't." "Yes, I do." "No, you only think you do." "But in fact, you rely on media reports that scientific evidence exists." "You don't actually see the evidence yourself." "I don't have time to read all the scientific studies myself." "Oh, so you're not gullible, you're just busy." "That's right." "So when I tell people they have chronic cubicle syndrome, they won't be gullible, they'll be busy, just like you." "You're being ridiculous." "Other symptoms include poor perception..." "I do not have poor perception." "Irritability..." "Stop that!" "Stop it right now!" "Bouts of irrational shouting..." "Are you trying to make me crazy?" "Paranoia." "Now what?" "Now my ghostwriter will put the finishing touches on the book." "You've been writing a book while we've been talking?" "I know how that sounds, and you'd be right." "Ratbert." "How may I be of service to you higher life-forms?" "You can't publish a book about an unproven medical condition." "Apparently, you haven't been to the book store lately." "Proofread, publish, distribute." "Roger." "We're very fortunate to live in the time of Dogbert." "This isn't happening." "Add delusions to the symptoms list." "You got it." "[EXPLOSION]" "[ELECTRICITY CRACKLING]" "[music]" "We're talking with best-selling author of Chronic Cubicle Syndrome:" "If You Think You've Got It, You've Got It." "Dogbert." "Dogbert, welcome." "Could you repeat the name of the book?" "Uh, sure." "Chronic Cubicle Syndrome:" "If You Think You've Got It, You've Got It." "How about you, honey?" "This is an equal opportunity condition." "Okay..." "Chronic Cubicle Syndrome:" "If You Think You've Got It, You've Got It." "Now, Mr. Dogbert, tell us, what exactly is chronic cubicle syndrome?" "Oh, I can't divulge that information." "You'll have to buy the book." "What's it called again?" "Nice try." "I can tell you that millions of people suffer from chronic cubicle syndrome." "It's a worldwide epidemic." "How would one know if one had chronic cubicle syndrome?" "[SIGHS]" "If you think you've got it, you've got it." "Is there any scientific evidence to support your claim?" "The best kind." "It's called anecdotal." "AUDIENCE:" "Ooh!" "This is preposterous." "I'm a scientist, and I tell you all that anecdotal evidence is worthless." "Talk to the hand." "[AUDIENCE LAUGHING]" "You certainly made him look like a boob." "We get all kinds." "I think we all know from past experience that the scientific and medical community will try to suppress this information, hiding behind red tape and double-blind studies until it's too late." "How many people have to die, sir?" "Yeah, how many?" "It says in your bio that you're a doctor, but our producer checked with the medical boards and we find no record of you." "How do you explain that?" "Talk to the hand." "[LAUGHING]" "There you have it." "Our next market opportunity:" "Chronic cubicle syndrome." "I hate to break it to you, but there's no such thing as chronic cubicle syndrome." "I've heard of it!" "You've heard of it because it was just on TV." "So?" "I think I have chronic cubicle syndrome." "Does it make your butt wider?" "I'm losing muscle tone." "I wondered what was causing that." "Sometimes, I feel like I am surrounded by nincompoops." "I believe that is a symptom of CCS." "Wally, what's it say?" "If this is a ventriloquism act, it's better with a dummy." "I mean the tape measure." "Calm down." "There is no such thing as chronic cubicle syndrome." "Dilbert, I value your input." "Now, who wants to develop a product to combat chronic cubicle syndrome?" "First of all, we're not a pharmaceutical company." "Second, we're engineers, not biochemists." "Dilbert, I value your input." "Now, who wants to help Dilbert develop a product to combat chronic cubicle syndrome?" "Hands?" "You know, the facts are completely against us here." "All right, hang on here." "You know, in our mad rush to cash in on this horrible condition before the competition and before the class-action suits get filed, are we perhaps getting ahead of ourselves?" "What is our "moral" responsibility?" "Yes!" "That is exactly what I'm saying." "Perhaps we need further research." "Yes!" "Perhaps further study." "Yes!" "Well, who's got time for that, you prig?" "No." "We need to create some favorable facts first." "Now..." "Favorable facts?" "Yes, favorable facts." "The other kind are worthless." "Now, let's see, let's see..." "We could flip a coin." "Too risky." "We could test humans!" "That's always fun!" "What about monkeys?" "Or rabbits?" "Or puppies?" "We've had some success hurting them in the past, haven't we?" "Dilbert could do some tests on mice." "Mice are full of favorable facts." "Very good." "Mice it is." "This is ridiculous" "But at least that's vaguely scientific." "I'll need a budget to get some mice." "Say what?" "We're not paying for mice." "Good God, man, the streets are full of them." "It looks so real." "Wally, did you bring the cheese?" "Yes, it's delicious." "And now the mouse." "Technically, I'm a rat, not a mouse." "I know, but you're all we could afford on our budget." "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." "No signs of chronic cubicle syndrome yet." "He looks listless and bored." "That doesn't mean anything." "My co-workers are idiots!" "Idiots, I say!" "Only I and I alone know all the answers." "You can't tell me that's not chronic cubicle syndrome." "We haven't established causation yet." "I'm wasting my life in here!" "There's no career path." "I want stock options." "I think my boss hates me because of the way he looks at me in the meetings." "Why do the objectives keep changing?" "I am so customer-focused." "You are not customer-focused." "Let's just say further study is needed." "We're in!" "Start pouring the champagne." "music Happy days are here again music" "Wait, wait, with just one rat, we don't think any conclusions can be drawn." "Oh, we'll draw conclusions, all right." "You can be sure of that." "Take this to the boys in the statistical distortion department." "They'll fix the data for you." "Tell them Ike sent you." "Your name's not Ike." "I didn't say it was." "I need you to distort some statistics from rat tests, although I don't agree with doing it." "I've just lost my will to fight it anymore." "I don't need the life story." "Let's see... one rat, one test." "I can make these numbers prove that... immortality is possible... or that drinking hard liquor improves your love life." "Any of those ring your bell?" "No." "My boss wants this test to prove the existence of something called chronic cubicle syndrome." "Chronic cubicle syndrome?" "Everyone knows it exists." "Haven't you read the book?" "Have you?" "You don't have to actually read it if you buy it." "It's an implied covenant." "The book offers absolutely no proof." "Well, that's not my only source." "I'm a serious-minded person." "I also heard about it on TV." "That's only because of the book." "All right, let's see... we've got the TV, the anecdotal evidence, the book, and now your study." "Congratulations." "Nice work." "DILBERT:" "Well, I hope you're happy." "Chronic cubicle syndrome is now an official condition." "It's sweeping the nation." "Chronic cubicle syndrome is real." "It's all in the book." "Buy a copy for a friend." "The end." "What are you doing?" "Just recording the audio version of my book." "That was it?" "It's abridged." "Abridged?" "It's three sentences." "All right, very abridged." "I've been very busy penning the follow-up:" "The Dogbert Chronic Cubicle Syndrome Cure Diet." "And what might that be?" "I'll give you a hint." "It involves food." "What's going on here?" "I'm shooting my infomercial." "Infomercial?" "For what?" "Dogbert's secret juice formula." "Many experts believe that the symptoms of chronic cubicle syndrome can be significantly reduced by drinking 14 to 28 glasses of my special secret juice formula each day." "[SNIFFING]" "That smells like alcohol." "Well, I'm not at liberty to reveal the ingredients." "It's an info no-no." "But of course, if people get drunk, they're not going to feel the effects of chronic cubicle syndrome, whatever it is." "That's not bad." "Would you mind doing a testimonial?" "Yes, I would mind." "Did you get that?" "And since I started drinking Dogbert's secret juice formula, to combat the effects of chronic cubicle syndrome," "I'm a changed man." "Hey, what the--?" "How did he do that?" "It's all computer-generated." "You're very telegenic." "And, by the way, it works." "Get Dogbert's secret juice formula today." "Since when do YOU exercise?" "It's not exercise." "It's dorkercise." "I've never felt more alive." "I've never heard of dorkercise." "It's all in the Dogbert Chronic Cubicle Syndrome 30 Days To A Smaller-Butted You WORKOUT VIDEO." "Apparently, if you eat less and exercise two hours a day, you can lose the weight caused by chronic cubicle syndrome." "If you exercise two hours a day and eat less, you'll lose weight without the video." "No." "This gets the cellulite too." "It's completely different." "Read the book." "And sometimes, when I stay up late," "I'm tired the next day." "That could be serious." "What else?" "When I don't eat," "I feel an emptiness in my stomach." "That's because your spine is out of alignment." "It's chronic cubicle syndrome." "I was afraid of that." "You'll need one treatment a week until my boat is paid for." "I hope it is not a big boat." "Lie on your stomach." "Now I'm going to straighten your spine until you cry." "May I request anesthetics?" "I don't believe in those." "Besides, you'll pass out from the pain in a few minutes anyway." "Ow..." "Ow..." "Ow!" "Ow!" "Ow!" "Ow!" "[BONES CRACKING, SCREAMING]" "[CRYING]" "Dilbert!" "Dilbert!" "Oh, there you are." "Now you look for me." "No." "Never mind that." "Why were you playing games when you were supposed to be coming up with a boffo product to combat chronic cubicle syndrome?" "I'll tell you why." "Chronic cubicle syndrome doesn't exist." "That's the holdup." "How am I supposed to engineer a product for an imaginary condition?" "Poor Dilbert." "You know, Dilbert, I've been around a long time, too long to count." "One, two... aw, whatever." "See?" "I told you." "I've seen many people-- good people-- felled by this dreaded disease." "It's up to you, my boy." "Gosh, I don't know." "I'm all confused." "That's the spirit." "Don't do it for me." "Do it for yourself." "And, if you don't do it for yourself, at least do it, because you'll be fired if you don't." "I call them Shockpants." "They deliver a severe electric shock to the wearer any time his posture gets bad." "And that will cure chronic cubicle syndrome?" "Well, if chronic cubicle syndrome existed, it would probably have something to do with your posture." "We need to test this on someone." "What did I miss?" "Can I help with anything?" "And this will help me with my posture?" "[SCREAMS]" "That straightened him out." "Let's take this puppy to Marketing and get it in stores." "We couldn't wait for Asok to GET bad posture, so I asked Dilbert to make this remote control to speed up the demonstration." "[SCREAMS]" "I love it!" "It's a device for shocking interns." "We can sell a billion of these." "Actually, it's a cure for chronic cubicle syndrome, which doesn't exist, but we've managed to get past that." "We don't want to sell cures for diseases." "That's too much of a downer." "We'll be painted with the same brush as that Jonas Salk guy." "Okay by me." "Let's forget the whole thing." "You're not thinking like marketing people." "Let's use our imaginations." "Our what?" "You mean, let's use our IMAGINATIONS." "Isn't that what I just said?" "Hmm." "I guess it is." "You know, those yellow sticky notes were invented by accident." "So was the space shuttle." "Exactly!" "How can we turn this huge mistake by an engineer into a victory by marketing?" "I've got it!" "We'll market them as a line of casual wear for business." "It worked with Dockers." "It can work for "Shockers."" "I'd like to go on record..." "Uh... ooh... um..." "Don't make your mistake any worse." "We're just lucky these marketing people were here to pull our fat out of the fire." "May I see that for a moment?" "[music]" "[BUZZING, SCREAMING]" "TV ANNOUNCER:" "In the news, even as claims of chronic cubicle syndrome continue to rise, as every drone with the sniffles is convinced he has it, the sales of Shockpants are soaring, thanks to new corporate dress codes that make them mandatory." "You might say workers are dressed for "shockcess."" "[SCREAMS]" "I get it, I get it." "No more making up words." "The success of Shockpants comes despite widespread reports of seared flesh and spontaneous human combustion." "If you ask me, it's all rather "shocking."" "[SCREAMS]" "And now for an editorial from our station general manager." "Besieged by pseudoscience once again, we now find ourselves in the grips of yet another bogus claim designed to strike fear in hardworking people even as it fleeces their meager savings accounts." "Chronic cubicle" "[SCREAMS]" "This is crazy." "People are tired, weary, bored, and depressed after a hard day's work day in, day out, year after year, in endless dead-end job after endless dead-end job with no future and no hope." "That's natural." "It's completely appropriate to feel that way." "How else should you feel?" "If you felt GOOD after that soul-crunching experience, that WOULD BE SICK." "Chronic cubicle syndrome is just life!" "You should have thought of that before your rip-off cure started killing so many people." "It was marketing's idea to turn up the voltage on the new models." "I argued against it." "So it's NOT your fault." "No one could think it was." "BOSS:" "It's Dilbert's fault!" "I tried to stop him." "I thank the man upstairs that we live in a country where the corporations can reap the profits from a death machine and, through the use of loopholes and disclaimers, not be liable when the lawsuits start flooding in." "Well, then who IS liable?" "Well, YOU are." "Me?" "You invented the blasted thing." "Then why haven't I earned any royalties?" "Because you don't own the patent." "Well, then, how can I be liable?" "Well, you see, Dilbert, technically, in this instance, you're an independent contractor." "I am?" "Read the fine print." ""In the event that profits are realized by said invention," ""the independent contractor is defined as 'the sucker.'" ""In the event that anything goes wrong with said invention, the independent contractor is defined as 'the scapegoat.'"" "Is there anything you'd like to say before we hang you out to dry?" "Can I make a phone call?" "[TELEPHONE RINGS]" "Yes?" "I'm so nervous to meet you in person, Mr. Dogbert." "I'm your biggest fan." "May I have some eye contact?" "I've waited two hours." "Please, just one eye." "The only way to escape from a bad idea is with an even worse idea." "You're welcome." "Using the same studies and data, we could announce that chronic cubicle syndrome never really existed." "It was a statistical aberration." "Then, if I could come up with an even better market for Shockpants, would you let me off the hook?" "Would they still kill people?" "Because I got to tell you, I never laughed so hard." "We can turn the voltage down, and then we can market them to a different group." "It's all about marketing." "He's correct." "Isn't everything?" "This is beautiful." "You have one at home just like it." "[SCREAMS]" "Who will tell me who was the first president of the United States?" "Your mother?" "[SCREAMS]" "[ALL SCREAMING]" "I'm happy to report that sales of the Shockpants are once again zooming." "I guess we all know who gets the credit." "Don't tell me." "It's the guys in Marketing." "No, but good guess." "Is it you?" "As much as I deserve it, no." "The credit goes to my boss's boss's boss who none of us have ever met and never will." "Credit travels up, blame travels down." "It's like drinking beer from a straw, if you know what I mean." "I don't know what you mean." "Me neither." "It's something I once heard." "Although I have been completely hosed on the profits of my invention, at least we can finally agree that chronic cubicle syndrome doesn't exist and never did." "Are you nuts?" "Just look at the size of my butt." "The Dogbert exercise program really works." "And look at this muscle tone since I started drinking that juice." "I'm not loud anymore!" "It'll take 24 sessions, minimum." "Can you give me all 24 today?" "I'm in a hurry." "Well, I do want to put an addition on my house." "BOSS:" "Ow!" "Ow!" "Ow!" "Ow!" "[CRYING]" "He's stronger than he looks." "Hi." "How are you?" "What are you staring at?"