Mr. Morow was kind of a sad figure. He had a round funny-looking face, almost totally covered in long dark hair and an overgrown red beard. He even smelled funny.But he had a gift - he was really good at taking pictures. Because of this he had become accepted in his small village. Famous people and good looking women came from near and far to have their pictures taken. He had learned that everyone was nice to him, at least until their pictures were taken. His was so gifted, he even got a business going and soon glossy magazines wanted to work with him.
But all was not well. The magazines had high demands, so he spent most of his time trying to get hold of models, make-up artists and hair stylists just to get his pictures as good as possible. He seldom left his office and did not have time to meet his friends as often as he wished.
One day when he was sitting in his office sending models to magazines, the phone rang.
-Hello, said Mr. Morow.
-Hi, my name is Everett and I am calling from Facebooz.
-Hi there, Everett. What are you selling?, said the grumpy Mr. Morow.
-What would you say if I invited you to move to a country where all your friends are near, where it's easy to find new friends and your business easily can communicate with new and old customers and colleagues ?
-Yeah right! And how much does that cost?
-Nothing! It is totally free. And you as a photographer will be able to save a lot of time and even have fans. You only pay if you would like to advertise.
Mr. Morow looked down on his desk on all the mails he was writing, glanced at his phone with the messages asking what he was doing and the long list of models he should update about the latest assignments.
-So it's free you say...?
-Yes! And it's global! This is a perfect way to have all your friends, customers and colleagues all over the world just around your house!
-Oh... That sounds amazing!, said Mr. Morow thinking it sounded fishy. What is the catch then?
-None! It is the most lovely country in the world! It's a place where there isn't any trouble. You can move there today and you are welcome to bring all your businesses as long as you get one Page-office per business. But that is also free. I can send you a ticket today!
Later that week, Mr. Morow was a happy citizen of Facebooz. He told all of his friends about the fantastic place, all three of them, and told all his colleagues and customers they could now find him in Facebooz. He was a good citizen bringing many new people to Facebooz.
Even though he had to show his face to everyone, he got new friends, found a lot of new colleagues, could give jobs to models far from his old country and he even almost got laid once!
One morning at the airport, after a business trip to his old country, Mr. Morow was walking up to the gate to board his private airplane. There was no one waiting in line so he quickly handed the gatekeeper his ticket and passport.
-Oh... Mr. Morow..., said the gatekeeper. We have found something offensive on your desk. Can you please sign this to confirm you got this message?
-What? OK, no problem, said Mr. Morow and signed the paper. What the heck did you found and where?
-I am sorry, but We cannot tell you that. But you have to promise never to put anything like that again on your desk.
-What? How can I promise that when I do not know what it was!?, said Mr. Morow loosing a bit of his temper.
-Do not use that tone to Us! I am sorry, now you are not allowed to enter Facebooz, said the gatekeeper and gave Mr. Morow's passport back. You must understand that we have to keep our country pure and decent.
-What!? But I have all my friends and all my companies there now!?
-Not that tone, I said! Now you will have to wait even longer!
-So I will be able to get back some day?
-I am sorry, but I am not allowed to answer that question, said the gatekeeper. You are holding up the line, Sir! Please move! This gate is only for citizens of Facebooz. Hi, Franz! Long time no see! Welcome!
Mr. Morow turned and saw a tall, gloomy gentleman with dark hair passing him. Without even showing his passport, the man passed the gate with the gatekeeper bowing.
-How come he was allowed in just like that?, said Mr. Morow.
-Oh! Didn't you recognize him? That was Mr. Kafka, Head of Comedy in Facebooz. He wrote this whole scene. I really have to ask you to leave! You are disturbing the friendly citizens of Facebooz behind you. If you have any complaint you have to put them in postbox over there.
The gatekeeper pointed to a yellow brick lane leading up to a postbox on the other side of the hall. It looked very worn and had a lot of papers lying around it.
-Feel free to address your problem though that and Mr. Oz might be able to get you back to Facebooz.
-But there is no opening in that box!, shouted Mr. Morow.
The gatekeeper just looked down at him and Mr. Morow's heart sunk.
I must be dreaming, though Mr. Morow. I really need a drink!
Slowly, dragging his feet behind him, Mr. Morow walked towards the bar.
But there at the bar was three of his friends sitting, Frodo, Mr. Freelord and Moby, looking just as gloomy as him.
-Hey dudes! What on earth are you doing here?, said Mr. Morow.
-Where are banned from Facebooz, said the three with one voice.
-What? All of you? Why? What have you done?
-I don't know. I just got an email from Facebooz about something offensive on some desk, but I was not allowed to know what. Then I got kicked out, said Frodo. I was not even allowed to get back to get my ring. I guess all hell will break loose if someone finds that one...
-I didn't even get a notice! How will I be able to brag about my lifestyle now, said Moby, downing a glass of vodka and a full bag of Maltesers into his big white belly.
-I have no idea, said Mr. Freelord sipping his favorite Czech beer. I was just not allowed to enter and I have been a member since the 5th of November.
Then Mr. Morow felt a shiver down his back. He suddenly connected the dots.
-Guys... We only have one thing in common: the keys to Morow Photography's Page-office!
-What!? Is this some kind of Vendetta? Just having a key cannot be the reason for all four of us getting banned! I have not even been to Morow Photography's office, much less putting any stuff there, said the Mr. Freelord.
-I have never even used the key!, shouted Frodo. What kind of a dark place is Facebooz anyway? I thought it was really precious!
A stern voice suddenly interrupted them:
-I am sorry Sirs, I kindly have to ask you to leave the airport.
The group of the four agitated men turned around and looked at a long faced gentleman, standing just a couple of feet away. Around him stood a large group of pig-like men in black suits.
-And who are YOU!?, Mr. Morow asked almost screaming.
-I am George, George Orwell, Head of Security of Facebooz and I know all four of you. I have to inform you that Facebooz has bought the whole airport and you have to leave.
-What? Can we finish our beer at least, said Mr. Freelord, who really liked beer, trying to buy some time.
-No, said Mr. Orwell, indicating to his pigs to gather around the four men. Our Customer Relationship Team will meet in the bar soon, and Idi, Kim and Joseph would not like to be around less equal men. They have to be really focused on getting drunk and writing our new Code of Conduct.
The four men understood that resistance was futile and decided to move back to their old country, Blog-n-Email, hoping that some of their friends would miss them and tell their story to other citizens of Facebooz. Maybe then things might change and birds would twitter again...
