Abort, Retry, Ignore

Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bedsheets, Still I sat there, doing spreadsheets:

Having reached the bottom line, I took a floppy from the drawer.
Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command
But got instead a reprimand: it read "ABORT, RETRY, IGNORE".

Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices Solomon himself had never faced before.

Carefully, I weighed my options. These three seemed to be the top ones.
Clearly, I must now adopt one -

With my fingers pale and trembling,
Slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,

Praying for some guarantee
Finally I pressed a key --
But on the screen what did I see?

I tried to catch the chips off guard --
I pressed again, but twice as hard.
Luck was just not in the cards,
I saw what I had seen before.

Now I typed in desperation,
Trying random combinations.
Still there came the incantation -

There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted;
Getting up, I turned away and paced across the office floor.

And then I saw an awful sight,
A bold and blinding flash of light,
A lightning bolt that cut the night and shook me to my very core.

The PC screen collapsed and died,
"Oh no -- my database!" I cried.
I thought I heard a voice reply,
"You'll see your data -- Nevermore."

To this day I do not know
The place to which our data goes.
Perhaps it goes to Heaven where the angels have it stored.

But as for productivity - well,
I fear it has gone straight to Hell.
And that's the tale I have to tell -

Your choice: "ABORT, RETRY, IGNORE".

(Author Unknown)