The porting begins...
One snowy afternoon, in the foothills east of Snoqualmie, a UPS truck
lumbered up a narrow, snow-covered gravel road, towards a small but
cozy looking cabin. An excited child shouts, "Daddy, Daddy, the
Crashboys are here! The Crashboys are here". A tall bearded man sets
his axe down by the woodpile. Son, I keep telling you, it"s
"cashboys", without the r. I'll go start the generator, an when you see me wave, plug in the Pentium. As the boy heads towards the porch,
he asks, "Am I still gonna get paid for each line I type?" "Yes son,
the same deal as Fleecys' kids get. But it's a team effort, So use
the spellchecker before you click 'compile'. He saunters out back to
the generator, and as he gives the rope a hearty yank, saying...
"if its a port he wants, a port he'll get!"