Working in the production industry, I've experienced first-hand how it is to be a minion.
I work as a set crew intern at an arts center. My duties entail building the sets, hunting for props and running house crew. One of the plays we're working on is "Little Shop of Horrors." For those of you who are unfamiliar with the plot....just go to http://www.imdb.com/ and look it up, I don't want to give it all away.
"Feed me, Seymour!"
One of our missions was to quest for dentist stuff. I went to my dentist's office and to my utmost surprise, they told me they were cleaning house and did in fact have chairs to get rid of.
"Audrey I"
"Audrey II"
Slight problem. Both chairs they had to offer were 400 lbs. apiece, plus there was a waiver to sign. Ho'kay, back to the drawing board...
So then they tell me there's a patient who collects and scraps dentist chairs for spare parts. I get in touch with the guy, and he says he'd help us out as long as he could get a charitable donation on his tax forms. So I talk to all the right people and make sure he gets all the necessary forms. Another roadblock: he hasn't returned any of my supervisor's phone calls. Nice going, you bastard.
Now I'm scrambling to redeem myself, so I go back to the office and explain the situation. By some act of grace, there is one chair left, and it's only 175 lbs. You bet your ass I get right on the phone and start harvesting a truck and some able bodies. So if that rat bastard ever decides to call back, I can say, "Haha, fuck you, I already got a chair!"
My evaluation: Don't fuck with the minions. We're the ones who get shit done.
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