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For our editorial calendar, I strongly suggested to our editorial staff that we designate August as "Corruption Month." They grimaced and said, "Yes, sir, boss."

We often talk about corruption in mills as a thing of the past. I can assure you it is a matter in the present. We have recent correspondence with readers who have told us very interesting stories of things they say are going on right now as you read this. All of this leaves us in a dilemma, for if we tell the stories we know as straight up reporting, we could be sued, called into court and so forth. How to get around this is a problem. Fortunately, I started a book on this subject a while back. We are going to serialize portions of this book and bring them to you here for Corruption Month. If this is successful, look for a continuation in subsequent Augusts in the future. So, this week, we'll open at the beginning of the book...the setup if you please for what you will be seeing in August.

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Pulp Rats...an unpleasant story
By Fos
(Translator: Jim Thompson)

Introduction

I am immensely grateful to Mr. Jim for translating from my species' language to the big things' language where necessary. Otherwise, the big things could never understand my story.

Regards,
Fos

Chapter 1

I was awakened by a smell, a familiar delicious smell. Grandmother had said it came from cows, from their milk and from their bodies when the big things cooked them. Grandmother knew many things, but I never figured out how. I don't think I have ever seen a cow and have no idea what they look like. She, Grandmother, died many lights ago when she crept into a dark place and ate some tasty food. Although those places were around everywhere, about 300 quivers apart, I made sure I never touched them after that.

I crawled from my space in the corner and moved down the aisle towards the smell, always on the lookout for the big yellow things with black spinners zooming about. Dodging about from crevice to crevice, I came to it in about 47 quivers.

The brown thing was large, two times my length, and flat, less than half my height, as they always are. The objective had been stuck inside and a good portion was still there. I settled down and began feeding on the combination of cow, red sauce and a thin starch bottom. I really like the small, spicy pieces of cows the big things always include on top.

I had just finished one of them when I saw it in a corner. It was a combination of scratchings and chews. I am sure the big things do not understand these, but it was very clear to me: a convention of my species, particularly the sector of my species that makes its living in the big things' pulp and paper industry, had been called. Apparently this convention was to be at an old pulp and paper mill in a swamp alongside the big waters in the warm country.

One doesn't take these things lightly. I immediately began planning how to get there.

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It had taken many lights, but finally I was scurrying onto the grounds of the place where the convention was to be. What a trip! I left my last place by jumping on one of the big things' inventions, full of wonderful aromas. It took me to a huge mound made by the big things. This place smelled heavenly, but it was not where I wanted to go. I wanted to get on one of the big things' inventions (I'll just call them BTIs from now on) leaving there in order to go towards the convention. I succeeded in hopping on such a thing, but barely. One of the BTIs' noisy things almost clipped me with its sharp front end on more than one occasion.

I had jumped off the BTI behind one of the big things' collection points. I knew this was a place where I could burrow my way into a large chunk of the brown stuff. They had this machine there that squeezed all the brown stuff together and put these silver cords around it. I knew I wanted to get into one of those.

On the second light, I succeeded. One of these brown things came out during the yellow time and I burrowed deep inside it. On the next light, it was picked up by one of the flat BTIs and we headed in the direction of the convention. I could tell this during the not yellow time, by looking out at the twinkly things in the black. Grandmother had taught me that by looking at the twinkly things I would always know where I was.

I won't bore you with the details, but I had to repeat this process over many lights in order to get to my destination. And when I was close, I almost missed it--I got on a BTI that took me to a place where the big things keep other big things in cages. However, the locals of my species told me it was only about 30,000 quivers from where I was to my destination, so I decided to make that last piece on my own--I was worn out with the big things' BTIs taking me on a circuitous path.
One of the first things I saw on arrival was another piece with scratching and chewings which I will let Mr. Jim interpret: Caution: since our species has taken up residence here, our arch enemy, the long slimy things, has come in from the big waters and are trying to eat us! Proceed with caution!

Don't think that didn't put a scare in me. Where I normally live, which is not the warm place, we don't have so many of these things and do not have to worry so much about them. But I guess here in the swamp by the big water, they can be a problem.

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Chapter 2

It was good to get together with so many with common interests. Quite a few were from places like those where I lived. Others were from places where the big things learned about pulp and paper. Still others came from places where the big things come every once in a while but stay for only two or three lights. But the common denominator was this: all of our species, in one fashion or another, came from places where the big things gathered to learn about, talk about or make pulp and paper.

Of course, a hierarchy was immediately established. Those from the learning places thought they were intellectually superior to us who lived in the making places. My colleagues and I immediately pointed out that if it were not for the making places, the learning places would not exist. They begged to differ. I got in a few bites of my own, but must admit my own ears had more than a couple of nicks taken out of them.

The worst of all, though, were the ones that came from the place the big things call their capital city. These thought that without the big things in their place, none of us would exist. When they said this, the rest of us rushed them and chased them into the corner. Let me tell you, they were pretty quiet for the rest of the convention. All bark and no bite, so to speak.

The convention was to start in two lights, so while we waited for the others to arrive, we had a great time. The big things had closed this place many lights ago, but we were able to find many, many morsels to eat. The big things are always sloppy when they shut down a pulp and paper mill, leaving enough food to keep thousands of our species alive for multiple sequences of lights. In fact, some of the locals told me they were the seventh or eighth generation since the big things left and they had not run out of food yet. Some of them had taken to eating the black stuff off the thin copper lines, but in their defense, they said they actually preferred it. The old style, they told us, had black stuff full of good, nutritional matter. My buddy Shaf, said, "Bah, humbug, I tried that once in my place but when I hit the copper, it caused me to shake to the point I thought I was going to die!" The locals said they had heard of that, but curiously, the local copper lines seemed to not possess that power. I must admit I tried them and they were pretty good.

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The message from the Great Mother had been vague, yet we had all obeyed it. While we were waiting for the others to arrive, we commenced to talk among ourselves about the purpose of the convention. Several had the idea it was about population control--that caused all of us a good laugh. Others thought it had to do with a new initiative to spread disease among the big things--we still talk fondly about the Bubonic Plague. Tiny Cyl thought it had to do with our reputation with the big things. I said, "You have got to be kidding, the big things already think little of us, and, besides, why would we care about that?"

Cyl said, "I think reputation and honest dealings are important." We laughed and went back to feasting on more of my favorite--the cow things on the starch. A good supply of these had been found and, although a bit old, we were enjoying them whenever we were hungry.

With the big water so close and warm, many of us took a swim each day. For those of us that came from a place where it was not so warm and water not so available, this was a real treat. And, of course, there were always some females in heat, so we were leaving behind a goodly sized population of our species, if the convention lasted long enough.

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Well, we will leave Fos, Shaf and Cyl there for this week. No quizzes for this month. However, if you have a corruption story, please send it to me at jthompson@taii.com. It will be treated with the strictest confidentiality.

For safety this week, rodent control is important for many reasons, not the least of which is rabies and other diseases. Yes, this can be thought of as a safety issue, too.

Be safe and we will talk next week.

You can own your Nip Impressions Library by ordering "Raising EBITDA ... the lessons of Nip Impressions."