Elon & Dyson; a Mar-a-Lago Marriage

Turns out, Elon Musk isn't the only rapacious predator plying his trade at the center of global grift. Sir James Dyson, he of cyclonic separation, just happened to be at Mar-a-Lago pitching, "Make America Clean Again", when the two billionaires decided to join forces to solve one of Elon's most vexing problems. If you thought gold plated sneakers, man-sweat perfume and chintzy wristwatches were too much to stomach, wait until you here this...  

Transcript

Season 1; Episode 6

Elon & Dyson; a Mar-a-Lago Marriage

One of my friends works for the NY Times and she told me about this really cool app called, “Inside Scoop”. It’s kind of like Uber for reporters and journalists. Low wage workers, you know, the people no one notices – servers, babysitters, doormen, maids, housekeepers, etc, sign up to provide the inside scoop they overhear while toiling at their menial jobs. They’re called, “Scoopers”.

That’s how the press knew that J Lo was going to dump Ben before he realized she’d changed the locks. 

Anyway, I went on the app and found that there were dozens of workers at Mar-a-Lago looking to make some side hustle on the 24/7 flow of treachery. I mean why should only friends and family profit from a rigged election?  

Now, I’m not a reporter or journalist, but I am a curious fellow, so, I downloaded the app and Scooped a couple of servers and maids and came up with some pretty interesting information.

Turns out that James Dyson, he of the famously hyper marketed, slickly designed, questionably constructed, but super spendy, line of housewares, was at Mar-a-Lago pitching our next president on the idea of a Trump branded, Make America Clean Again, line of China sourced vacuums not only for the house-keeping challenged MAGA faithful, but the for the entire Federal Government as well, including the Defense Department, for which he promised a Trump model in the new digital camo that is unanimously hated by our men and women in uniform. 

Apparently, according to my Scooper, the meeting went very well and there only remains the issue of an emolument for Tiffany. 

On the way out, Dyson, sorry, Sir Dyson, knighted for his contributions to cleaner tapestries throughout the realm, ran into fellow billionaire, Elon Musk and they decided to hang by the pool for a little, “getting to know you chit chat”. Seems they don’t travel in the same circles.

Turns out that in addition to being rich, they had a lot of shared interests. 

Given Sir Dyson’s track record with vacuum cleaners and the invention of cyclonic separation – whatever the fuck that is - Elon was curious about how to better spin the disastrous introduction of the overpriced, poorly constructed, virtually useless as a truck, Cyber Truck. 

According to my Scooper, Sir Dyson counseled, “price is perception” and recommended raising the price of the road going stainless steel doorstop. Elon was thrilled. 

They then went on to discuss Elon’s favorite topic, besides himself, which is space and his burning desire to populate Mars.

Turns out that Sir Dyson also has an interest in space. It is a vacuum after all.

Elon told Sir Dyson that as long as SpaceX could keep feeding at the Federal trough, it was well on its way to figuring out the whole, “how to get there”, side of things. But living on Mars was still a little tricky. Impossible, actually.  And until he had the survival angle figured, his plans to take SpaceX public, and become the richest person in the Universe, were stalled.  

Apparently, Space X’s market research indicated that a thin atmosphere, cold temperatures, and a surface covered in dust, rocks, and ice is not appealing to the large contingent of fertile females Elon believed were necessary to populate the planet. 

I know that sounds misogynistic, but that’s not me talking, it’s what my Scooper reported.

Of course, Sir Dyson, the ever-vigilant marketer of copycat housewares had a solution. For several years, his R&D folks had been hard at work on what he called, “The Dyson Experience”. 

Essentially a prefabricated home that fully integrates all the Dyson products to provide your family with the comfort, convenience, and cleanliness that only the Dyson Experience can provide. The home comes in four large shipping containers and can be assembled with simple hand tools and instructions available on the company’s website in less than one hour. Maybe faster in Mar’s weaker gravity. 

Sir Dyson even pulled out his phone and showed Elon some photos and floorplans.

Elon was goobsmacked. 

All they needed were a few tweaks: replace the flimsy molded plastic outer shell with some kind of air-tight incredibly strong, and undoubtedly expensive material, like titanium, then address a few minor issues like food, water, oxygen and extreme levels of radiation.

Minor issues. After all, they’re billionaires.  

With the final piece of his Mars puzzle in place, Elon and Sir Dyson, scribbled a joint venture agreement on the back of a cocktail napkin and then the world’s richest man sprinted from the pool area already late for a meeting with Vivek, to discuss possible government departments for liquidation.

Meanwhile, my Scooper served Sir Dyson a well-earned celebration cocktail, while the Knight of floorcare technology called his R&D people and asked them the status of The Dyson Experience. They were happy to report only one very minor issue with the recently completed prototype. 

Apparently, shortly after the test family – father, mother, teenage daughter and infant son – moved into the newly assembled home, the mother, as per instructions clearly printed on the control panel, activated the whole house, cyclonic, particulate evacuation system and the entire family was instantly hoovered into the cyclonic chamber whose blades were spinning at 300,000 RPMs. Unfortunately, the result looked like a strawberry smoothy made in a Ninja blender - a product Sir Dyson greatly admired and was working tirelessly to copy. 

Undeterred by this bit of news, Sir Dyson ordered some fixes, which also happed to greatly lower production costs, raised the retail price 45%, slurped the remainder of his cocktail and bolted from Mar-a-Lago, phone pressed against his ear, barking instructions to his Marketing and PR people. 

Thanks for listening.