Hank offloaded his last bail of cloth from the truck owned by the company that buys unsold clothing. As he approached the warehouse he pushed a button that automatically opened a huge sliding door. He dreaded this part because he knew there was only a tiny bit of room inside the building.
He feared an avalanche of moldy old bundles of clothes. Hank knew a coworker who picked up an old shirt off the ground and tried to take it home. He was immediately fired. 'What could possibly be such a big deal about an old shirt?' thought Hank. The door lurched as it slid open against the lateral pressure of massive piles of old unsold retail clothing merchandise.
Hank was able to load the very last bail of old clothing into the final empty space in the very last warehouse. He called his supervisor who called his manager who called the home office. The secretary took the message that the warehouse was full and said management will hear about it immediately.
An emergency meeting of the board of directors was held. The concern was not about the fact that inventory was maxed out but that the secret warehouse where they stored the unsold merchandise was full.
"The shareholders will finally catch on that we manipulated the stock price by creating false indicators of growth in wholesale orders to our stores! Everyone sell their shares immediately and I'll hand-write a letter and send it by postal service to our shareholders. They should figure it out in a week or so. That should give us time to make a killing on this killing."
They sold their shares and then jumped ship with their golden parachutes.
The End.
