The Sound and the Fury

Let me take you back in time...

Four stalwarts from the realm of literature strode strong and steady- albeit a little dusty- into the hallowed premises of the Newspaper. They had traversed tracts of dry, dusty,fissured lands, into the heart of Ambattur. Here they met the heartless Seven-Hills:who ruthlessly dispatched the great hero Gunther to the Features department and the others to the Editorial. So Pyne, Bentley and Ames bid a tearless but moving adieu to their comrade and trudged to their separate fates.

So much for the exposititon.

Pyne,Bentley and Ames were assigned to work with the verbose King-go-Milk. 'Verbose' being a tactful understatement. Somewhere in the middle of the 50th example of his youthful exploits, King-go-Milk remembered that the interns were to be assigned work. Snapping awake from their glazed stupor, the three drew their pens and attacked the 5 copies assigned to each of them. Just as the first marks were about to be made, there came a terrible sound...

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRPPPPPP!!

"What was that?!" gasped Pyne.
"Sounded like a wart hog!" exclaimed Benltey.
"You've heard wart hogs?" mused Ames.
Their discussion was interrupted by another earth shattering 'UUUUUURRRRPPPP!!!'

"There it is again!" hissed Bentley.
"Let's investigate!" said Ames.
"Wait, let's scout the area first." cautioned the ever cautious Pyne.

Three pairs of eyes scanned the forest of cubicles.

GAAAAARRRRRRPPP!

Three heads swivelled- And there, sitting inconspicously in a cluster of computers, sat the Burper.
BAAAAARRRPPPPP!

"Oh it's just some guy with a ventilation problem." smiled Pyne.
"Probably had too much potato poriyal for lunch." snickered Ames.
UUUUURRRRPPPP!
"Well, he'd better put a stopper on it. Now let's get back to work before King-go-Milk decides to 'inspire' us with more of his young-tales." muttered Bentley.

But,you see gentle readers, regardless of it's monotonous nature, editing does require concentration. Having a nonstop burp-monster in your vicinity does not help. And the Burper's range was astounding. He could go from Foghorn to bullfrog in the space of a breath. To this day Ames swears that the Burper hit all seven notes in the scale.While the earlier expulsions were sporadic and far apart, pretty soon it was one per minute. It was like a form of chinese torture! Grating and grating until Ames had to be physically restrained from committing murder.

"Don't do it! He is just a guy with gas trouble!" panted Pyne hanging on grimly to a flailing arm.

"Yes! Be happy it's not coming out through the other end." wheezed Bentley tenaciously restraining the other.

With a great exertion of will Ames calmed down, and even completed the copies. In defence of Ames, this burporama coming shortly after an extreme exposure to King-go-Milk's narratives would bring down even the greatest. With each day of exposure to the Burper's gastric exhibitions, the three grew stronger and stronger. By the end of the internship they were totally immune to the airy onslaught. No longer did the sound produce such fury. The Buddha probably employed similar methods to teach his disciples forbearance.

You see gentle readers, like all great heros the three too had their fair share of tests before they reached the object of their quest. The Burper was only one of the obstacles in the dusty paths of their internship. Though we have already passed through the gates, the author is sure that somewhere in the bowels of the Newspaper, nestled comfortably among cables, coiled like intestines, the Burper still burps in abandon.

Thankfully, we are nowhere nearby to hear him.