Hi! My name is Phillip Sachs, and I am a figment of Baratunde's imagination. A 1997 graduate of Harvard College, I am now in my second year as an analyst for the international global strategy global management global consulting firm McBane and Company.

I have been asked to give you folks a description of one case at McBane, a company that serves global corporations by helping them solve their most fundamental global business problems. The word of the day is global. Remember that, or I'll black-list you and close your dad's plant down.

I began the case on a Monday morning. After cooking myself a breakfast of solar-heated chickwiches in my $2,000 studio apartment--a cardboard box under the Brooklyn Bridge--I donned my bullet-proof vest for entry into the Manhattan office.

I knew this next assignment was special because the Firm's regional director was in the office. He only comes in when we play limousine tag in The Village.

Chip (he likes us to call him that)was personally overseeing this case, and I was the lead analyst. The client: a global pharmaceutical company based in Kyrgyzstan.

Never heard of Kyrgyzstan? Me neither. That's part of the fun of working for an international global strategy global management global consulting firm.

I would be sent on a fact-finding mission immediately, the objectives of which were to determine the company's most pressing global issues and possible global solutions.

Due to the extremely confidential nature of the global company's business,. I would have to take an abnormal global path to the site. That evening I boarded a flight out of New York and landed in Algeria. From there I boarded a "missing" Russian nuclear submarine which got me across the Mediterranean.

The next tough transition was crossing Iraq. I was shot down twice over the stupid no-fly zone! I finally arrived in Kyrgyzstan only to realize I did not speak Kyrgyzstani. No problem. The client had an escort waiting for me at the port, and he spoke flawless pig Latin, the global language of choice for consultants.

When he had completed what seemed like a sweep of my body with a metal detector, we got into his camouflage hummer and headed into the jungle.

We traversed the minefields and laser trip beams, and four armored checkpoints later we had arrived at the global corporate headquaters of the Kyrgyzstan Drug Cartel (KDC), a global pharmaceutical company.

Now I know what you're thinking: "Drugs? How horrible!" But if you open that can of judgmental worms, where do you draw the line, people? how about gun manufacturers? Cigarette companies? Chocolate factories? They all kill people, man.

Look, it is not our place to judge the morality of our clients. International drug cartels have just as much of a right to our services as the next company.

Besides, how do you think we can afford all those signing bonuses? With sound investing? Yeah right. It's all about the angel dust, baby.

I was immediately introduced to the CEO, Paco Noriega, who briefed me on the company's concerns and provided me with binders of documentation and ledgers. It seemed that KDC had two big problems.