Not There [FICTOID]

The maharajah requested a meeting with the Woz.

“My people face serious problems,” he said.  “I feel only Mr. Wozniak can help them.”

“Well, Mr. Wozniak will be delighted to teleconference with you -- “

“No, the meeting must be face to face.”

“Are you sure?  We find Zoom works quite well.”

“No!  Face to face,” said the maharajah.  “Only then will I know Mr. Wozniak fully understands what my people need.  Only if I am close enough to look him in the eye to see if he speaks truly.”

“…that…” said the staff, “…may be difficult…”

“How?  Tell Mr. Wozniak he needs do nothing, I will come to him.”

“It’s…it’s not that simple.  Are you sure a Zoom call -- “

“Yes!  I am sure!  I am the leader of my people, I should know a few things, and the thing I know is I need this minute is a face-to-face meeting with Mr. Wozniak!”

“Well…that’s the problem,” the staff said.  “He has no face.”

The staff could practically hear the maharajah blink on the other end of the call.  “Has Mr. Wozniak suffered an injury?  Has he been disfigured by some dread disease?  I will gladly bring a healing rug for him to meditate upon, or medicine if he prefers.  The choice is his.”

“No, that’s not the issue,” said the staff.  “The fact is, he’s as hale and as hearty as ever, he’s just not…real.”

This time they did hear the blink on the other end.

“Do you mean he is an actor?  An impersonator?  A fraud, a hoax?”

“No, no, no, and yes.”

“Wait…what did you just say yes to?”

“The part about him being a hoax.  There is no Steve Wozniak.”

“What?!?!?  But I see him all the time on TV!”

“You see a holographic projection we’ve been using since day one.   Wozniak never existed, his identity was created out of whole cloth -- not that we used cloth.”

“To what purpose did you do this?” the maharajah asked.

“The age-old purpose:  Money.”

The maharajah’s head reeled.  “But…but…all his hundreds of inventions, all his sage advice -- “

“All generated by us,” said the staff.  “We needed a figurehead to sell stock so we created him.”

Several long moments of silence followed before the maharajah sputtered, “But how did you come up with such sage advice?”

“Oh, pure dumb luck,” said the staff.  “Throw enough B.S. against the wall and some of it will form a Rorschach blot you can interpret anyway you want.  We tout the successes and the suckers -- pardon, clients -- forgive us our mistakes.”

“This is too much,” said the maharajah.  The staff thought he had hung up then they heard either a gun shot or the maharajah’s head exploding on the other end of the line.

“We need to work on our marketing skills,” mused the staff.

© Buzz Dixon