So you tell the salesman, "I'm sorry but we're happy with our systems." He draws your attention to something out the window and when you look back at your desk there's a hunk of Jarlsberg sitting there that wasn't there before. "Not mine," he says. "Must be yours. Looks like it's just a wedge too, so there's probably plenty more where that came from." You love Jarlsberg, but you also love your job. But seriously, you like really love Jarlsberg. "Maybe our systems could use some updating," you say as you hide the cheese under some papers. Flash-forward six months and you're sobbing naked in a jail cell while a white supremacist brushes your hair and calls you Sharon. WAS THE CHEESE WORTH IT?!