BOFH: Smells like team spirit

CRISIS! The ancient computer in the basement – which has something to do with our waste water system – has stopped.

And while we may not know exactly what it does when it's running, we definitely know what happens when it stops.

The PFY and I took a look, and while (in theory) it's possible that we could fire up a replacement machine, I can pretty much guarantee the two ISA cards, identified only by the markings "#1" and "#2", will cause a problem.

This is definitely one of those situations where the buck stops elsewhere... ...

"What does it mean?" the Boss asks.

"It means that by tomorrow evening – if you're parking in the basement – you'll want waterproof shoes, and by the following evening, a pair of waders." "And an incinerator to burn your shoes in," the PFY adds.

"So what should I do?" the Boss whines.

"In your situation, I'd probably pass problem up the food chain..." I suggest. ...

And up the food chain it goes, like a newspaper-wrapped turd pass-the-parcel game, going from the Boss to the Director, to the Head of HR, who buckpasses it to the CEO, who in turn farms it off to the Board for a committee decision. ...

The next day I notice an unpleasantly familiar aroma in the fresh air feed to the lower floors of the building.

A smell which will only get worse in the next day or two as if creeps up the building...

On getting to the office, I note a couple of old blokes at reception having a quiet word with the Boss.

Moments later, he calls me over.

"Simon, this is, uh, Frank, and uh, Brian.