In Honor of USPTO Stupidity
Vanity Plate Tale #12: XPLTIV
Mark’s eyes constantly shifted, searching the area around the bus stop. He trembled slightly as he practiced his lines under his breath. “Sirs and Madams, pardon my most inopportune intrusion upon this auspicious meeting. I seek only the approval…”
A buzz sounded, and Mark jumped. He glanced to his right and saw a speaker next to the bench. A computerized voice spoke. “Word not allowed. First warning, Citizen Mark.”
“Pardon?”
“Word ‘pardon’ is still allowed. Word ‘the’ is now trademarked. Be advised, penalty for use of word is five hundred euro.”
Mark’s head spun as he tried to accommodate yet another word trademarked for private use by some troll. How the hell was he supposed to talk at work without the word “the?” The injustice of it all angered him, and his trembling increased. He tried valiantly to keep his mind from spinning out of control.
“Please acknowledge, Citizen Mark.” The computerized voice pushed Mark over an invisible line, and his lips moved before his mind could rein them in.
“Fuck!” he yelled, and kicked the speaker. The grate guarding it bent, but didn’t break.
“Word not allowed. Penalty for use is five hundred euro.”
© 2013 Jonathan Kahn
Mark’s eyes constantly shifted, searching the area around the bus stop. He trembled slightly as he practiced his lines under his breath. “Sirs and Madams, pardon my most inopportune intrusion upon this auspicious meeting. I seek only the approval…”
A buzz sounded, and Mark jumped. He glanced to his right and saw a speaker next to the bench. A computerized voice spoke. “Word not allowed. First warning, Citizen Mark.”
“Pardon?”
“Word ‘pardon’ is still allowed. Word ‘the’ is now trademarked. Be advised, penalty for use of word is five hundred euro.”
Mark’s head spun as he tried to accommodate yet another word trademarked for private use by some troll. How the hell was he supposed to talk at work without the word “the?” The injustice of it all angered him, and his trembling increased. He tried valiantly to keep his mind from spinning out of control.
“Please acknowledge, Citizen Mark.” The computerized voice pushed Mark over an invisible line, and his lips moved before his mind could rein them in.
“Fuck!” he yelled, and kicked the speaker. The grate guarding it bent, but didn’t break.
“Word not allowed. Penalty for use is five hundred euro.”
© 2013 Jonathan Kahn
