Tribal Elders, It Will Take More Than a Mere Car Alarm to Thwart Indiana Jones
Council of Elders, I address you today with a troubled heart. Forgive my direct manner of speech, but before us is a desperate case for which flowery words will not do. As we approach the hour of the Festival of the Great One, when we bow and offer sacrifice to He of the Moon and the Tides, I must speak openly and say it will take more than a mere car alarm to thwart Indiana Jones from stealing the golden image of our Most Supreme Tecuciztécatl.
Please, I beg your indulgence! Like many in our tribe, I appreciate that you, the Council of Elders, saw fit to buy only the best SafeTec Systems two-way underhood-mounted alarm with an LCD pager, keyless entry, and relay pack in order to protect the inner sanctum that leads to the room of the sacred idol. Already, the user-selectable remote panic alert with IntelliLok technology has proven useful against many a lesser adventurer hoping to steal the precious image of our god. And I have personally seen more than one of our hated rival tribe members in flight, thanks to the dual-zone, tamper-proof 30 GHz microwave sensor that can detect the slightest footfall in a twenty-meter radius. Even I must admit that outfitting the golden idol itself with the Baretta Ultra quad-sensor infrared system was a stroke of genius, and surely causes Tecuciztécatl to smile upon our people.
But this is Indiana Jones we are dealing with, not some meddling freebooter! I humbly exhort you to reconsider the old ways for our best defense. Please, listen! What, I ask, is wrong with the simple but very effective gigantic crushing boulder trap that, so mystified by the new ways, we did away with so hastily? And is it really so shameful to rely on a good old-fashioned tarantula nest, or even a leaf-covered swamp pit filled with deadly water moccasins, in order to protect our divine instruments of ceremony? Surely I am not the only one here who feels a singular throb of tribal pride at seeing our iron bed of spikes rip off the torso of some gum-chewing weekend warrior from the Cornell history department who thinks he can just waltz in here with a bullwhip and a fedora to make a quick killing at the Smithsonian.
I beseech you, allow me to finish! Maybe we are feeling a little insecure. Maybe we are feeling a little pressure to keep up with the neighboring Xcirrht tribe, which even I aver is the talk of the town after having recently installed stylish gullwing doors with remote locks and digital entry pads on their ancient temple of sacrifice. But did that stop Indiana Jones from making off with their Silver Chalice of Tzacol, Eater of Hearts? It most assuredly did not. Adding insult to injury, now they must endure the humiliation of small claims court because their insurance company has refused coverage.
We must ask ourselves: Is newer necessarily better? I do not think so. Pardon my strong words today, esteemed council elders, but I would much rather we ask uncomfortable questions like this now. For we certainly cannot ask them after the golden idol of Tecuciztécatl is gone, thanks to some enterprising thief disabling the alarm by simply rerouting the valet override switch to the relay pack’s main converter, causing the sensor subsystem to short out. Because on that day, we know all too well, the sun will turn black, the moon will cry blood and our children will be ravaged by swarms of locusts pouring endlessly from the shattered, moaning earth.
