What’s $300 million between friends?

Phil was strolling along the carefully manicured walkways at the large tobacco company where he worked. Behind him he heard the thump-thump-thump of someone getting closer to him. Then he picked up the sound of heavy breathing, pulled himself to his full height and stopped walking.

“What’s with you, li’l brother?” he said to his fellow worker, Morris, who was panting as he recovered from his one-person race.

“I-I-I’m not your b-brother, little or otherwise–” Morris protested with a gasp.

Phil put out a hand and laid it on Morris’ shoulder. “–Yeah, yeah,” he said. “What happened? You look all twitterpated.”

“It’s this, Phil,” Morris said as he pulled a newspaper from inside his sports jacket. “Three hundred million dollars we’re giving this woman because she smoked.”

“Did she die from lung cancer or something?”

“Hell no. She didn’t die from anything. She’s just mad because she says our labels aren’t clear about the dangers of smoking cigarettes.”

“She must be suffering–”

“–Oh, sure. She carries around a little oxygen concentrator so she can breathe better.”

“What’s the medical term for her problem?”

“Emphysema, Morris.”

“Oh,” said Phil. “Three hundred million dollars. Wow. But you know as well as I do that we’ll file an appeal and chances are, we’ll win it all back.”

“Why do you say that, Phil?”

“Because while you were running around getting copies of court rulings, I was snooping in the company news. We’re fighting this one, Morris. The lawyer leading the suit against us ran all around the case and made so many goof-ups  in violation of state law that the case won’t stand.”

“I hope you’re right, Morris,” Phil said. “We can’t afford to keep handing out money in the hundreds of millions. I think I’ll go apply for a raise.”

“Good luck, Buddy.” Phil waved as the two men went in opposite directions down the sidewalk.

Presented by Griffith Publishing

Resource: UPI

It’s the nicotine, silly!

Morris and Phil were sitting in the back of the company’s break room after everybody had left. Through the window they could see an outdoor picnic area where employees were allowed to smoke.

One by one, each smoker deposited a cigarette and ashes in a concrete container and headed for the door back to work. “What keeps them going?” Morris muttered. “What is so great about smoking?”

“How long has it been since you quit?” asked Phil.

“Five years and three months,” Morris replied. He looked at the box-shaped outline pressing through the fabric on Phil’s shirt pocket. “A lot longer than some people I know,” he said.

“Aw, c’mon. I smoke just enough to get a flavor of what’s going on in the world of smokers. Maybe 5-6 a day, that’s all.”

“What would you do if you could get the nicotine without smoking all the rest of that junk into your lungs?” Morris asked.

“You mean, with a smokeless cigarette?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. It’s the only legal drug delivery system in the world.”

“No, it’s not,” Phil argued. “You can get all kinds of drugs with pills or shots or even injected into your veins when you’re sick.”

“I guess you’re right,” Morris said. “But nicotine doesn’t cure you or anything. It just gives you a bit of a high. Makes you feel good. With smokeless cigarettes, you cook up a little steam, breathe it in, and one of the strongest drugs in the world goes right into your lungs without any cancer stuff. Would you do it?”

“Only if you do.”

“Deal,” said Morris. “Let’s try it.”

by Griffith Publishing

 

Watch your language, Morris

(Illustration does not  depict FDA’s new rulings)

Phil and Morris were having one of their customary conversations that nobody else at the giant tobacco company could hear.

“You know what?” Morris said, pulling himself into a full upright position that put his five-feet, seven inch frame at the best advantage. “The attorneys of this country are out to destroy free speech, and durn it Phil, they’re going to do it! And,” he added, pounding a fist on one knee, “we’re going to be destroyed in the process.”   

“We are? How is that going to happen, little brother?” Phil responded.

“I’m not your brother, little or otherwise,” Morris said, “but if you read the newspapers or watch the Web, you should know what I’m talking about.”

“Morris, you know I depend on you to tell me what is new and significant in the world of tobacco. Now tell me what you found out.”

“I think you know all about this, Phil. The new packaging requirements by the FDA. We have to cover half the cigarette package telling people it’ll kill them. That’s violating our free speech! It’s not fair, I tell you!”

“Maybe so,” Phil said slowly,” but did you know why our company supported the new rules?”

Morris rolled off his chair onto the floor and then came to his knees, leaning against the wall. “Our company?” he wailed, his hands grasping at his chest, “Our company is in favor of the FDA forcing us to design our packaging so people will know for sure that the cigarettes they are about to buy are bad for them?”

 ”For good reason,” Phil said. “It’s good for the company.”

Morris shook his head. “No way,” he said. “You’ve gone too far this time. R J Reynolds doesn’t think so. Neither does Lorillard Tobacco. We’re the only ones—”

“The only ones who would rather have the government settle this so we don’t have to keep redesigning our advertising and guessing if it will be okay so we won’t get sued for a billion bucks.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“You’d better, Morris. Remember competition?”

“It’s still there, Phil!”

“That it is. But it’s going to be easier to compete when the government is telling us what to say on our cigarette packages and where to say it rather than waiting for lawsuits to drive it through the court system.”

Morris was silent a very long time for him, twenty seconds in all. “I’ll be switched,” he said. “We’ll all be on the same playing field. People won’t leave Marlboro for Camels because of package design. If they like us they’ll stick it out with us.”

Phil unfolded his legs and stood beside his expansive executive desk while he patted Morris on the head. “That’s just part of the story,” he said. “But keep thinking.”

Submitted by Griffith Publishing

Sources: Forbes, MSN Money