I’ll smoke you a kipper, because you’ll be back for breakfast. You’re the cult television show quoting, user account deleting, soap loathing IT Manager.
Something in your childhood has made you the way you are. You’ve been hired to provide a service to everyone else in the office – you make the computers run, and you make them run well. You’ve streamlined everything; you’ve removed all the viruses and installed all the firewalls. The only trouble – the only hole in your veneer of digital perfection – is the way you laugh at everyone.
If someone doesn’t know UNIX, you laugh at them. If they lose their password, you laugh at them. If they visit a website using Microsoft Internet Explorer and their computer succumbs to an Internet worm, you laugh. Then you take a swig of your Coke, and with another hearty chuckle tell all your friends on IRC about the idiots you have to deal with.
Maybe it makes you feel better about yourself, although let’s face it, you don’t need help in that department. You’re great, you. Fantastic like burning cool. If only those luddite office fools would let you play Unreal Tournament in peace.