Finally, you can fire your cord steward.

"It's nothing personal, James."

No, sir.

"You've done a fine job for the past twenty five years."

Yes, sir.

"It's just that- dammit, James, it's just that a man who's built his whole life around rewinding an extension cord is- it's damned silly. Just damned silly!

"Indeed, sir."

And I can't have my estate be the laughingstock of the countryside. Do you understand?

I do, sir.

"That's well, James. For what it's worth... I wish I could keep you on.

Thank you, sir.

"There's just no need for such a silly damned job, not now that I have this auto rewind reel.

No, sir.

"Still, we had good times, didn't we, James?"

Yes, sir. I suppose I'll be going now, sir.

"Yes, quite."

Well, then, sir. Goodbye.

"Oh, James. Damn it all! Damn this technological advancement! You don't deserve this! You don't deserve to be fired!"

Don't worry, sir. It was only a matter of time. A man can't rewind reels forever.

"Yes, well... good luck to you, James. Wherever you end up."

Thank you, sir. And good luck winding your cord.

"It should be easy, now that I've got my cord rewinder."

Yes, sir. Once you figure out where I've hidden it.

"Hmm. James, I've had a thought. Would you like to switch your job to cord reel rewinding supervisor?"

Very good, sir. I'll just unpack.

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