Shalampax Store
Walking the business beat around here, I usually reserve this space to fill you in on any big deals going down in Shalampax or to tell you about our major industries. Not today.
Today, I’m going to tell you about our smallest industry. It has only one firm and its revenues are miniscule. In short, it’s pathetic and an embarrassment to any true Shalampaxian.
Paperplate runs The Shalampax Store, which sells … wait for it … Shalampax souvenirs.
Paperplate sells to only foreigners. That’s not surprising. No Shalampaxian would ever want a Shalampax memento. We live here. Most of us would leave in the bat of an eye if we could find a safe way off this Paahlm-forsaken island. Well, we’d also want to find a way to quash the international arrest warrants sworn out against pretty much all of us. But, other than that, we’d be out of here in an instant and never look back. We don’t want any stinking souvenirs.
Paperplate’s marketing strategy is to go after people who like to pretend that they are adventurous travelers. He figures they’ll want to fool their friends into thinking that they visited Shalampax. However, despite their feigned bravery, Paperplate is convinced that the faux voyagers won’t want to risk being cannibalized, which is how we usually welcome any outsiders who somehow manage to come here.
Beyond the fact that The Shalampax Store’s revenues would barely fill a thimble, Paperplate has a business model that makes Shalampaxians shudder. This unbelievable loser actually sells real stuff. His store pedals sweaters, t-shirts, postcards … you know, trinkets and trash.
The Shalampax Store has two shops, both sell the same goods, but with different designs. The Shalampax Flag Shop sells stuff emblazoned with the Shalampax flag and some trite words. The Shalampax Coat of Arms Shop sells stuff bearing, as you’ve probably guessed, the Shalampax coat of arms and again, of course, some trite words.
Paperplate uses a non-Shalampaxian company to take the orders, make the stuff and ship it. That’s understandable. There’s no way he could ever get a Shalampaxian to do manual labor.
What’s totally unconscionable to the minds of the rest of us Shalampaxians is that Paperplate also lets that company do the credit card processing. Can you imagine it? He voluntarily lets an honest, non-Shalampaxian company handle the credit card transactions!
Have you ever heard anything so daft? He never even gets to see the credit card numbers. He collects his puny few bucks on the markup on the merchandize and passes up any opportunity to skim money off his customers’ credit cards. It makes me weep!
You’re probably wondering, if I’m so disgusted with The Shalampax Store, why am I giving it space here?
The truth is, Paperplate is the poorest person in Shalampax. It’s not that I’m getting a heart and feeling sorry for him. Don’t worry about that. Paahlm forbid. He chose of his own free will to maintain his personal integrity. Nobody forced him to do that. It was entirely his choice and certainly not a choice that anyone else here would be foolish enough to make. If he’s so stupid as to have some scruples, he fully deserves his miserable condition as far as I’m concerned.
Nevertheless, Paperplate promised to compensate me in “nonmonetary ways” for plugging his pitiful little store here. I’ve never been as good as the other gals around here at using my womanly wiles to get me some, well, you know. So, please, check out The Shalampax Flag Shop and The Shalampax Coat of Arms Shop and buy some crappy souvenirs.
As for me, I’ve got to go. I’ve got an appointment with Paperplate to keep and I have to stop off and buy some ribbed condoms first — there’s no way that wretched bastard can afford any.
