Walt Jaquith, the Inventor newsgroup's resident renaissance man has over the years pointed out some of Inventor's most annoying bugs and Autodesk's failures in a most humorous manner. The Inventor community looks forward to his epic stories about the plight of Simpleton Modeler, the love of his life, Userla Friendly, and their struggles with Dr. Otto Deskus.. These masterful stories filled with inside jokes and bad puns have been preserved her for posterity. So without further adieu, here are Walt's works presented un-edited from the postings in the newsgroup.

A Little Toolbar Soap - Posted 11/14/01

As we join our hero, Simpleton Modeler, the evil Dr. Otto Descus has taken Simpleton's girlfriend, Userla Friendly hostage. Dr Descus has devised a fiendish plan to foil Simpleton's efforts to use Inventor to get his work done..

Simpleton: Rats! Without Userla here, my work is going far too slowly. What's happening to my toolbars?

Unknown to our hero, Dr. Descus is watching on his Radion Particle Acme Super Spy Scope. Miss Friendly is nearby, tied to a chair.

Dr. Descus: HA HA HA HA!! It's working! See how you like that, Simpleton Modeler! So you don't like my panel bar, do you? How dare you insult me like that! Just because I put toolbars in my program doesn't mean you can use them! HA HA HA HA HA!

Userla: (Struggling wildly against her bonds) Descus you fiend!

Dr. Descus: I'll settle with you soon enough, my dear girl. Oh look! He's going to open another file! Watch closely now!

Simpleton: Rats! Rats! Rats!

Dr. Descus: Ahhh, music to my ears. Such frustration! Such misery! Let's see you be productive now, Modeler!

Userla: Descus, what have you done?

Dr. Descus: Ah, but it's what I haven't done, my dear. You see, your simpering boyfriend refuses to use Inventor the way I think it should be used. Imagine! The very nerve of that poor fool, thinking he knows better than I; the great genius Otto Descus! But I foiled his little game, and do you know how?

Userla: (Horrified) How?

Dr. Descus: By refusing to fix the bug, of course! You see my dear, Simpleton likes to put those blasted toolbars all over my nice clean user interface. He scorns my beautiful panel bar! But I fixed that nonsense! There's a bug in the toolbar code! Oh, they behave themselves for a while, but then (ho ho) they start jumping all over the place like a bunch of hyperactive children! They won't stay put! Every time Modeler opens a file all his toolbars scatter all over, and he has to put them all back again. And sometimes they won't even go back! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Userla: (struggling, in tears) You horrible horrible man!

Dr. Descus: Oh look, he's going to do it again!

Simpleton: (pulling on his hair) AAARRRRRGGGGG!! Userla, where are you???

Userla: I'm here, beloved! Stay strong!

Dr. Descus: He can't hear you! HA HA HA HA HA!

Will the evil Otto Descus' nefarious plan be foiled? Will the lovely Userla Friendly be returned to her lover's side? Will Simpleton Modeler be able to get his work done unmolested? Don't bet on it. We've asked the same questions through two major revisions and four service packs.

Tune in next time when we hear Simpleton say: Why'd they put the toolbars in there if they can't be bothered to make them work right?

Why indeed.

Dr. Deskus Makes a House Call - Posted 03-13-02

As we join our hero, Simpleton Modeler is at his computer, in some distress.

The love of his life, Userla Friendly is not to be seen, but from the sound effects coming from the bathroom, she's in there, in even more distress.

Userla:  Oh...Oh!..AaaaaGHH!

Simpleton:  Hold on, beloved!  I've called for help!

Userla:  [gasp..huff huff]  oooOOOOOHH!!

Suddenly there's a knock on the door (Bang Bang Bang!)

Simpleton:  Oh thank heaven he's here!  Not long now, Userla!

Userla:  Ack!  Ack!  Ack!

Simpleton:  (Opening the door) Doctor Descus!  I'm so glad you're here!

Descus:  As you should be, my boy.  Otto Descus, at your service. Now, what seems to be the problem?

Userla:  (from the bathroom) OooooOOOOH!

Descus:  Good Gracious.

Simpleton:  Doc, you've gotta help her!  It's Userla!  She does that every time I run Inventor.

Descus:  Calm down, my boy.  Now, what exactly are you doing that' s causing Miss Friendly's discomfort?

Simpleton:  (moving to the computer to demonstrate) Well, see, I'm working on this big drawing, and when I zoom or pan, it stops halfway through for a few seconds, and..

Userla:  Aaaaaiiiiii! [huff huff huff]

Descus:  (cleaning his monocle on a hanky) Interesting.

Simpleton:  Doc, don't you want to go examine her?

Userla:  [PUKE!!!!!!]

Descus:  (glancing at the bathroom door)...Not really, no.

Simpleton  (almost in tears) Doc, you gotta do something!

Descus:  It should be obvious what's happening, even to you.

Simpleton:  What?  What?!?

Descus:  Think about it, my boy.  You zoom or pan in a big drawing, Inventor stops halfway through, and Userla Friendly has a cow.

Simpleton:  (gasp!) You mean...

Descus:  Yes! (dramatic organ music) It's a pregnant pause!

Userla:  AaaaaUUGH! [huff huff huff]

Simpleton:  But...I...we...

Descus:  Now now, my boy.  These things happen.

Simpleton:  Now wait a minute, Doc.

Descus:  (gathering up his overcoat and hat)  There's really not much to be done.  Make sure you're well stocked with ice cream, and pick up a jar of dill pickles.  Oh, and try not to say anything that would make her feel..you know..

Userla:  SHRieeEEEEK!

Simpleton:  Doc, how long are we going to have to go through this?

Descus:  (headed quickly for the door)  I'm afraid no one knows, Mr. Modeler.  The gestation period for service packs and new releases varies widely.  Extended periods of hard labor are common, but we really don't know that much about how it all works.

Simpleton:  But..

Descus:  (on his way out)  It's one of the great mysteries of life, my boy.

Simpleton:  But.

Descus:  (patting a very bewildered Simpleton on the cheek)  Enjoy it while you can.  Be sure to call me if her condition changes.  Good day.

Simpleton:  (staring at the door)..Well, that did a lot of good. Guess I'll have to go back to work..

Userla:  Don't you DARE touch that mouse!!!

Will Simpleton Modeler be able to go back to work?  Will Userla be delivered from her, uh, situation?  Will Otto Descus discover the Great Secret of the Pregnant Pause?  We'll all be pacing the floor in the waiting room....

Dr. Deskus's Monster - Posted 07/22/03

It was a dark and stormy night.  Fitful gusts of wind blew the incessant rain in stinging torrents.  A fierce bolt of lighting split the inky darkness, briefly bathing the bleak countryside in stark white.  And overlooking the valley, and silhouetted on a rocky crag....The castle Deskus. <thunderclap.wav>

The windows in the main tower shone with a sickly yellow light.  Dr. Otto Deskus and his faithful assistant Igor were working late.  Deskus was feverishly adjusting settings on the massive, dangerous looking equipment that lined the catwalk circling the laboratory.  A Tesla coil buzzed bright blue in the dim candle light.  The air smelled of ozone.  "Hurry Igor! The storm is almost directly overhead."

"Yes master!" answered Igor from the main floor, where he was busy lugging heavy cables to a raised platform in the center of the room.  The platform had a table in its center, and on that table rested a still sinister form, covered by a sheet.  Igor plugged the huge electrodes at the end of each cable into receptacles at the base of the table.  Ominously large and heavily insulated electrical busses ran from the receptacles, and disappeared under the sheet.

"Ready Master!" called Igor.

"Excellent!" cried Dr. Deskus, "Raise the platform.

Igor moved dutifully to a huge windlass on the north wall.  The cast-iron pawl clattered against its gear as he took up the slack in the rusty chain. Then, straining, Igor began to work in earnest, and the platform and its macabre cargo slowly rose towards the ceiling.  Deskus ran to a lever and pulled.  High overhead, the glass-domed roof peeled back, letting in a torrent of rain.  Lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder boomed, rattling the ancient window panes.

"Faster Igor!" Called Deskus.

Igor was too busy to answer as he sweated and strained.  The top of the platform slowly disappeared through the hole in the ceiling.  Deskus manipulated another control, and a huge lightning rod rose above the still figure.  Only the metal bands securing the bulky form to the table kept the sheet from whipping off into the storm.  Its edges snapped and fluttered as the platform was exposed to the full force of the gale.  Finally the windlass slammed against its stop, and Igor fell back gasping.

"Good work Igor," called the doctor, "And now my creation shall live! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

At that instant a blinding shaft of energy jumped down from the clouds, and enveloped the tip of the lightning rod.  The laboratory lit as if in bright daylight.  The equipment lining the walls chattered and buzzed.  A shower of sparks flew across the room, followed by shards of glass as meters broke and beakers shattered.  Deskus noticed none of it.  His gaze was fixed rapturously on the platform high above, where the mysterious figure bucked and shuddered, bathed in an eerie glow.

And as quick as that, it was over.  Darkness returned, pierced only by the glow of the Tesla coil.  The wind had blown all the candles out.

"Lower the platform Igor, but carefully!" called Dr. Deskus out of the darkness.

"Yes master." Wheezed Igor, and got to work.  As soon as the platform cleared the opening, Deskus closed the ceiling and went about relighting the candles.  By the time he was done, the platform was back on the ground. Deskus ran to it eagerly.  Igor followed with a bit more trepidation.  The sheet was blackened and charred, and the electrical busses were fading from a glowing red, sputtering and hissing as the last of the rain was burned away.  Up rushed the doctor, and then stopped close to the platform, almost as if he was afraid of what he might find.

"All the years."  He muttered under his breath, "all the work, the study." Was it all in vain?  He could hardly bear to look.  And then the question was answered for him.  The figure under the sheet moved!  Tears of joy formed in Dr. Deskus' eyes.

"It's alive! It's alive!" He exclaimed, and, reaching up in triumph, drew the sheet away from the creature's face.

Handsome, chiseled features and a steady gaze met his expectant stare.  The creature's hair was jet black, finely styled, and not a strand was out of place.

"Good morning, Doctor," it said.

"You speak..You know me!" Gasped Doctor Deskus.

"Yes, and your little hunchbacked friend, too." Replied the creature.  Igor was backing away fearfully, eyes wide.  The creature looked down, curling its lip slightly at the tattered and charred sheet.  A finely manicured handsnaked out and ripped the thick metal fetters away with no noticeable effort.  It then bunched up the sheet and tossed it aside.  The creature was wearing a perfectly tailored sport jacket and slacks, over a freshly pressed light blue button-down and silver tie.  Its shoes looked Italian.  It sprang down from the table, and paced quickly to one side of the laboratory.  Then it turned, placed its hand on its chin, and regarded the puzzled Deskus with a thoughtful stare.  After a few seconds, the creature spoke:

"Forget anything you ever promised anyone."  It said, "Split Inventor into two products.  Keep the lesser one for your regular subscription twerps. Put a couple of half-baked features in the other and charge extra for it. Call it Inventor Pro!"

"Oh no!" Wailed Igor, falling to his knees and hiding his face in his hands. Dr. Deskus stood stunned for a minute, then recovered.

"Igor, you imbecile!" He shouted.  "You used the flawed brain from that marketing guy the villagers hung!  I wanted the engineer's brain!  The engineer's brain!!!"

"Too late." remarked the creature, casually bending a thick cast iron handrail with one bare hand.  "Trust me, the users will love it.  We'll just tell them it's really for their own good, and that the next release will be better."

"I'm sorry master!" sobbed Igor.

"Great heavens," said Deskus, "I've created a monster!"

Just then, a ruckus built up outside the great double doors on the laboratory floor.  They burst open, admitting a grim crowd of villagers from the valley.  They had armed themselves as best they could, with pitchforks, scythes and clubs.  Simpleton Modeler was in the lead, with a torch in one hand and a steel pipe in the other.

"Ah, here they are now." said the monster casually.

Simpleton took in the bizarre tableau, and his angry eyes fixed on the Doctor.

"Deskus, what have you done?"  He asked through clenched teeth.

"Oh, don't be too hard on the good Doctor," said the monster, "any bureaucracy eventually creates something like me.  It's quite inevitable."

"Monster," said Deskus gathering himself, "I am your creator!  I order you back to your table!"

"Shove off, old man." it replied.  "You're not in charge any more.  There's no way I can be controlled once I've been created."

"Deskus, do something!" yelled Simpleton.

"I'm afraid it's right," replied the doctor sadly.  "I can't control it; it's taken on a life of its own."

"We'll fight it then!" cried Simpleton, brandishing his steel pipe.  An enraged chorus answered the affirmative from behind him.

"How cute," said the monster.  "But before you do, I'd just like to say that your concerns are a matter of great importance to me.  I am vitally interested in your feedback, and firmly believe that significant dialog and user participation are vital to Inventor's continued success.

"OoooOOOOhh!" moaned Igor from where he had collapsed on the floor. Simpleton was rubbing his temples, looking pained.

"S-Stop that!" He said.

"Furthermore," said the monster, "it is absolutely essential that future concerns be addressed in a timely manner to leverage the greatest gains from our partnership."

Somewhere out in the courtyard a pitchfork clattered to ground.  Sounds of retching were heard.  The pipe slipped from Simpleton's numbed fingers.  He struggled to make his eyes focus.  The monster continued its sinister attack:

"I'd also like to assure you that we continue to keep the needs of the users foremost in our strategy.  Our goal is to form a unique and robust new paradigm of functionality with enhanced focus on targeting user-specific incremental progressions and proactive strategies for upcoming releases to empower interaction and facilitate positive and effective methodologies."

Just behind Simpleton, a user fell to the ground.  His eyes rolled back in his head as he twitched and foamed at the mouth.  Igor had curled up a fetal position.

"Retreat!" cried Simpleton swaying on unsteady feet, "We'll regroup and come back with earplugs!"  The mob quickly turned into a rout.  They scrambled out of the castle, dragging their wounded with them as best they could.  The courtyard was a jumble of discarded farm implements and sputtering torches.

The monster regarded the open doorway in amusement for a moment, then calmly walked over and closed the double doors.

"That was brave, but foolish."  It said.  "Now, where was I...?"

Deskus and Simpleton Have a Little Talk - Posted 03/9/04

(SLAM!)

"DESKUS!!"

To say that Simpleton Modeler was a little upset would be akin to remarking that a rattlesnake was not an ideal pet for a four-year-old.

"I'm in the study, dear boy." The tone of Deskus' voice brought Simpleton up short for a moment. Whatever else might be said about Dr. Otto Deskus, he did have a certain legendary resiliency about him. That plucky, energetic optimism had seen the doctor through many tough times and not a few misadventures. Now he sounded tired; almost (who would think it?) defeated.

That weary note in the doctor's voice didn't totally quell the anger roiling around in Simpleton's gut, but it did shock him into getting it under control. A little. For the moment. It couldn't, however, prepare him for the sight that greeted him when he made his way to the doctor's spacious study. As always, he couldn't suppress a pang of covetous jealousy over Deskus' extensive library-all those glorious books! But it was Otto Deskus himself that drew Simpleton's eye, and that brought him up short again. It was turning out to be a morning of progressively greater blows to Simpleton Modeler's psyche.

Dr. Otto Deskus, dark genius behind the far-reaching Deskus Empire, tireless explorer and inventor, icon of several exclusive country clubs, dandy of the international social scene and captain and champion of the local chess club, sat slumped in his great reading chair--sans book--in his bathrobe and slippers.

At eleven o'clock in the morning.

The doctor's snowy white hair was disheveled; almost as though (if you could believe it) Deskus had not combed it at all that morning. A salt-and-pepper shadow of stubble was on his chin. There was a coffee stain on the front of his robe. Simpleton Modeler, who had never in all their years of association seen Otto Deskus other than nattily dressed and immaculately groomed, was astounded.

"Have a seat, please, my friend," said the doctor. "I'd offer you tea, but.the water seems to be cold."

Dr. Deskus sounded.old. The last shreds of Simpleton's anger slipped away. He numbly sat down in the overstuffed chair across from the doctor, and waited. At length, Deskus spoke.

"How did it ever come to this?

"What has it come to, doctor?" queried Simpleton quietly.

"Too big.out of control.out of my hands," answered Dr. Deskus. "No dream anymore; just a bunch of bureaucrats running around protecting their turf. And marketing..."

"Yeah, marketing," said Simpleton. The doctor looked up. Never in a thousand years could Simpleton Modeler have imagined Otto Deskus with tears in his eyes. But they were there now.

"I know the thing I've created doesn't have enough of a soul to be sorry, Simpleton, but I am," said the doctor.

After everything else that had happened that morning, the fact that Dr. Deskus had actually addressed him by his first name almost seemed normal. Simpleton Modeler just gave a stunted, humorless laugh. "We thought that with those imbecilic DWF ads that they'd gone as low as they possibly could. But Viagra?"

"I could have told them," now the doctor was getting a bit angry himself. "How blind can they be? I could have told them, but.nobody asks me anymore. They're so hidebound and insulated. To make matters worse, they never leave anyone in one spot long enough for there to be any true accountability. Blast them and their bloody org charts!"

"Dr. Deskus, I'm in shock enough as it is. If you start swearing I'm going to end up needing therapy."

The doctor stared at Modeler for a moment, and chuckled quietly. Then abruptly he sobered up again. "It's really surprising, you know," he said. "A lot of our customers have stuck with us while they've played endless musical software with them. How many viewers have there been-just simple file viewers! And they still can't seem to get it right. Then the customers showed a remarkable loyalty when far too many got jerked around with their subscriptions. After that there was the whole Inventor Pro debacle. So easy to make a promise.so easy to break it. Next to all that, this seems like such a little thing. You wouldn't think it would be a big deal...

"Which is precisely the point," said Modeler. "It goes to show they don 't really understand their customers at all."

"True," answered the doctor. "It's just insane. I'm beginning to think that those marketing boys have no pride at all, and so they can't imagine anyone else having any either. Sexual enhancement drugs! Yegads; you just don't embarrass your customers like that!"

"I wish that was all it was," said Simpleton.

The doctor gave him a sharp look. "What do you mean?"

"Even you don't fully understand," said Simpleton. "Let me explain it, doctor. Yes, those ads are professionally embarrassing, and that's a bad deal, but there's a deeper problem yet. Who uses your software, Dr. Deskus?"

Deskus was a bit perplexed. "Engineers, designers and architects?"

"Some, yes," replied Simpleton. "They're the ones who get the attention, but they're not the majority. Try again."

"I'm afraid I'm adrift"

"Just people, doctor," said Simpleton Modeler. "Men and women who punch a timecard. That's who runs your software, doctor; Joe average. You don't think about them much, because most of the time some middle management type is running the department, so that's who you hear from, and that's who you tend to focus on. But the majority of the people who are actually pushing the mouse around are just common working folks."

"Alright dear boy, I'll grant you that. But I'm still not seeing your point."

"Think about it a moment, doctor. These people don't go out and get the information they use to do their work. Someone else does that, and yet they are often held responsible for it. They don't set the work schedule either, but they're expected to keep the deadlines. They create the documentation on which entire industries run, but are often paid on a par with menial laborers, and given no more respect. They are too often regarded as little more than overhead. These people are normally expected to be proficient in not one but four demanding disciplines."

"Four?"

"Yes four. First, they have to have an intimate knowledge of the field they're working in. How else could anyone produce accurate working documents? This is often the only one of the four that the individual they work for is required to know, but he gets compensated much more handsomely than they. Second, they have to know the drafting standards that apply to their industry. No two are the same, and not one I know of makes perfect sense, but these people are expected to know them. Then they must be proficient in the software itself. You are aware, aren't you doctor, that the software you produce is fairly complex to say the least? That gaining an intimate and productive knowledge of that software is a Herculean endeavor in itself?"

"I am," answered Dr. Deskus. "But I've never really thought about it this way. Please go on; what's the fourth requirement?"

"Knowledge of the computer systems that the software runs on, of course. Your software and its requirements, doctor, are over the head of the majority of the IT jockeys running around out there. They don't understand, and have little sympathy for the needs of the users who operate your products daily. The people who work in our world have significantly higher requirements than those running simple word processing and spreadsheet programs. Therefore, it often falls on the users themselves to keep their machines running-quite often in a suspicious and hostile environment."

"I see," said Deskus. "So what does all this mean in terms of our subject?"

"Simply this, Dr. Deskus: To recap, these people have precious little control over their own careers. They are often more knowledgeable in several categories than the people they work for, but are forced to take a subordinate role because that individual has the college degree or is willing to sell his soul to the middle management god. They get a fraction of the respect they deserve, and shoulder more than their share of the blame if something goes wrong. Their days often consist of a long series of interruptions, and the frustration of having to do a job over through no fault of their own is commonplace. They are at the mercy of any number of outside elements whom they rely upon for the information they work with. But those elements' first priority is not supplying that information; it's a side issue to them. All this they do day in and day out, doctor. And they do it at a wage that you would sneer at. And when budgets get tight, whose training is the first thing to get cut? Assuming, of course, that their company is the least bit enlightened and a training budget even exists.

"In light of all this, Dr. Deskus, do you really think it was such a great idea for your 'brilliant' marketing team to bring to mind the professional impotence that is all too often the hallmark of a drafting career by suggesting that the users of your software need the services of a little blue pill?"

"No, I guess not," replied the doctor in a subdued voice.

"You guess correctly," said Modeler, who had once again remembered his anger. He got up abruptly and paced to the door, then paused, looking over his shoulder to fix the doctor with a pointed stare.

"Now, Dr. Deskus, I have a few suggestions for you. First, go get cleaned up. Take a shower, shave, and get dressed. Then put that teapot back on the stove, and fix yourself a cup. Make it a strong one. While you 're drinking it, think long and hard about how you're going to take your empire back from the marketing monster, and put some vision and sanity and basic integrity back into it. Then, Dr. Deskus, I suggest that you pay your offices a visit. There are, I believe, some serious issues there that require your immediate attention!"

(SLAM!)