While tornadoes are typically drawn to trailer parks like... well like tornadoes to trailer parks, the recent string of killer windstorms felt across Alabama have had their furious purpose harnessed and corporately aimed this time at what Mitch Bainwol, CEO of the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA), called at a press conference "those thieving little punks and their goddamn stolen music collections."
The control of the elements has long been sought by the RIAA, and recent breakthroughs by the evil scientists given safe haven by the organization appear to have finally yielded horrible horrible fruit. The most accurate of these weather based attacks appears to have fallen hardest on a High School, in Alabama, where 8 students' pirate CD and DVD collections were ripped apart in what can only be described by eyewitnesses as "an orgy of natural violence."
Laughing megalomaniacally for a full 3 minutes before continuing, the darkly appropriately-named Bainwol continued, "By unleashing the full fury of the elements themselves on these mewling little troglodytes we are finally able to realize our goal of full and fair compensation for our copyrighted works and intellectual properties." When asked about the concept of "fair-use" embodied in copyright law, reporters were startled when out of the clear blue sky, a 3 foot wide, 15 Petajoule, lightening bolt burned the questioner, Associated Press stringer, Freddy Taterdemalion, to a smoking ruin. "There is no fair-use," bellowed Bainwol, "next question."
"Do you think that treating your customers this way will create a better business climate for the faltering recording industry?" Asked Christian Science Monitor's Nikta Pollyana, who, it should be noted, began rubbing the beads of a rosary furiously.
"Our customers lately represent an unacceptable risk," said Bainwol. "Later this month we will be rolling out a licensing program which requires that all music purchasers have a $500,000 life insurance policy to which the RIAA is the sole beneficiary on file in our offices to be allowed to hear music. All infringing users of our content, will be summarily deafened."
"I don't even OWN a CD player!" Sobbed Christine Merkin, Senior at Enterprise High School. Merkin, who was injured in the disaster was saddened by the losses of so many of her friends. "I think maybe Bobby had an iPod," said Merkin, referring to Bobby Mulct, a victim of the storm, "but all he ever did was buy hair-band songs from the 80's off of iTunes."
Interviews were cut short as shot-put sized hail began to pummel rescue workers, victims, and reporters alike. In the distance, atop a hill, silhouetted by the faltering tumescent glow of a tattered Wal-Mart sign, the figure of Bainwol could be seen, arms outstretched in supplication to the heavens, muttering nearly unpronounceable demonic syllables.