"I find it very hard to keep track these days, Shanty. In fact, I've given up." Shanty looked at Poxball over the top of her glasses.
"How so, Poxball?" she asked.
"Well if I recollect correctly - and perhaps I don't - it was called Oatabix. Now they're pronouncing it Oatybix."
"And this concerns you?"
"Well I'm not sure what to think. Am I wrong? Are they trying to pretend it was always Oatybix? Is my intelligence being insulted, is my power of memory being dismissed by a clattery of marketing graduates who've changed their minds six months too late? Do I care? Should I? I can't help feeling they're trying to pull a fast one. It may be the final straw. First Jayson Blair, and now this. I mean, is nothing sacred?"
"Careful, Poxball, you came dangerously close to an exclamation mark there. Besides, I rather think it doesn't really matter ..."
"But it does, Shanty, it does. It's dissonant. They said one thing, now they say another, they have not acknowledged the change. The neurons aren't having it."
"Well of course not, they weren't consulted."
"They're up in arms."
"They're agitated."
"They can't take it any more."
"They're spoiling for a fight."
"They cannot allow this insult to stand."
"They had enough, and enough is enough."
(Standing up.) "I will get clarification on that pronounciation change if it's the last thing I do!"