The last week of classes were quickly approaching.

The last week of classes were quickly approaching. The stress is building up! There was so much to do in such little time. That is the least of my worries...FINALS are coming!

I didn't know if I can stand it. The pressure...it's killing me! My parents are on my back about my grades, my student loans are astronomical & I hate my roommate. I have to

found a start-up and bank phony billions if I am to gain street cred in my old Silicon Valley neighborhood. "Make a market," they call it. Invent something preposterous, slap on a

logo. Viral market. IPO time! Shovel the cash offshore. Buy a Ferrari. Bang. Wallop. job done.

After that Steve Jobs sat in a bean bag chair and thought, "Well, that's that." He smiled. He loved the white noise sound of the foam beans in the big bag chair. It relieved his

tinnitus, at least while he was moving. This gave Steve an idea: compress the size of music files until they sound like sh*t, put 10,000 of them in a tiny box, and carry it around

in order to bask in the groovy jam reverberating through his skull. Somehow, he and his car made it to work in one piece, though he had clipped a number of lamp posts and buildings

that had defined the city's iconic landscape for more than 200 years. But ah, that music, that delicious feast of beats had fed his subliminal cravings, and he finally let go.

He tumbled downward, flipping head over heels, bouncing off the corners of the skyscraper, from the ninety-seventh floor to the sidewalk...that is how the Konga beat gained fame!