“Now, watch carefully. The trick to repairing these automated concert ticket kiosks is to make sure that all the thingybobs go where they’re supposed to. Now, could you reach into that box of spare parts and find a watchamacallit? Thanks.

“See this widget right here? Say you buy tickets for Death Cab For Cutie or Bad Religion. The tickets have to pass down this track to the currency doofus, then through the service charge rachet until it pops out the electrosphincter right here. Yeah, just like that. Perfect.

“Whoa, don’t go away. We’re not finished yet. We still have to set the polarity on the venue thingamob, plus recalibrate the holographic whatchahooie. Otherwise, we may get errors when the machine prints out tickets for Mindy Smith or Toby Keith. After all, you don’t want what happened in Syracuse last month, do you? Sheesh, what a mess. Oh, the humanity.

“Okay, we’re almost done. Hand me that set of doodads from my repair kit. No, not the metric ones. That’s right. The English ones. After all, this is America. Now, hold on to that thingummy, while I twist this doofer one way or another until it connects with the reservoir where the tickets for Three Dog Night, Wilco and the Scorpions are kept, and then pound on it with that whatis until it clicks in with the general admission gigalyzer. Yeah, I know it’s redundant, but the law says we have to have it. Damn EPA.

“Well, that’s about it. Now, all we have to do is close it up, plug it in and it will be ready to spit out tickets for all the shows, like The Muffs, Galactic and Insane Clown Posse. Furthermore… Huh?

“What’s that? You want to know what to do with all these extra parts? Like that geemie, whatis and thangawatchamacallit? Oh, that’s easy.

“Just box them up and send them to that outfit that’s running those computerized voting machines for the upcoming election. I’m sure they’ll know what to do with them. Besides, they’re going to need all the help they can get.”