August's Disgruntled Employee of the Month: Dana Brean
Gary Newbrunswick: Joining us this month is someone with a very special job, especially this time of year, what with the anniversary and all- Amalgamated Humor's unofficial historian, Dana Brean. Well, first of all, how did you come by this position?
Dana Brean: Well, it's more of a hobby than a job. I started it soon after I began working as a clerk in the records department. I'd just start reading stuff on breaks, realizing what a fascinating company this is. Now, twenty-odd years later, I'm a supervisor in records and I have the most complete collection and mental record of Amalgamated Humoriana in the world.
GN: Amalgamated what, now?
DB: Amalgamated Humoriana. It's what we collectors call historical artifacts and artifacts associated with Amalgamated Humor.
GN: Collectors? Of what?
DB: Oh, old advertising items, papers, products, prototypes. For example, remember the musical whoopie cushion that they tried to test market in 1977?
DB: Well, the model only played Eagles songs. Don Henley sued and there are only three left in the whole world. Guess who has them?
DB: Yup. Ichabod White's memo that wasn't allowed into evidence in the wrongful death suit Mr. Brockie's heirs brought against the company in 1951? I've got it.
GN: How much of this stuff do you have?
DB: Oh, let's see. I think approximately 48,635 separate items.
GN: You're kidding me! Where do you get it all?
DB: Well, stuff that was going to be thrown out, flea markets, auctions, hitting relatives up after people die, that sort of thing. My mom doesn't mind. there's just the two of us, and it's a big house.
GN: That explains a lot.
DB: Yeah, she's really understanding. My collection is nothing, though compared to this. (points to head).
GN: Your glasses?
DB: No, though these frames did once belong to Bud Carter, the only shipping employee to never miss a day in this forty years with the company. I got them from his wife.
DB: I mean my mind. I've memorized just about every bit of information about this company I can. Go ahead ask me something.
GN: I don't know, I probably should be going, actually...
GN: Okay, okay, um...when was the company founded?
DB: Oh, please. You mock me. August first, 1930. Anyone knows that.
GN: Er, of course.
DB: Now, give me something I actually have to think about.
GN: Geez- uhhh...who was Flimminhoffer's first secretary?
DB: Hm. Well met, Gary. Loraine Smegel-
GN: Great, good job, now I'd better-
DB: -she met her tragic end on November fifth, 1954 at 2:31 p.m., when her necklace became caught in a rubber vomit press. Flimminhoffer had sent her down to check on the rubber vomit team in his stead. Some said he never quite recovered from that fateful day.
GN: Really? That's fascinating. I really must-
DB: How about the 1965 company picnic, where Joey Bishop performed in person and almost caused a riot when he pulled out a lighter that clearly had a logo from the Johnson-Smith Company?
DB: In 1985, when Jacob Linnell took over as president and CEO, his very first official act was what, Gary?
GN: I-I wouldn't have the faintest idea.
DB: Oh, dear. Signing a memo to give the go ahead to looking for a contractor to have the visitors' parking lot expanded by 165 spaces, Gary. Oh, Gary.
GN: Alright, then- I think I'll go. Um, thanks. This has been educational- and creepy.
DB: What's that?
GN: Oh, nothing.
DB: You know, Gary, they say Ralph Brockie used to talk under his breath. Look what happened to him.
GN: Uh, I have to go now, bye.