Then the other guy came out with a reliable, fast network. Were we scared? Hell, no. Because we hit back with a little thing called 3G. That's three G's and a touch pad. For touching. But you know what happened next? Shut up, I'm telling you what happened—the bastards went to four G's. Now we're standing around with our cocks in our hands, selling three G's and a touchpad. Touching or no, suddenly we're the chumps. Well, fuck it. We're going to five G's.
Sure, we could go to four G's next, like the competition. That seems like the logical thing to do. After all, three worked out pretty well, and four is the next number after three. So let's play it safe. Let's make a bigger screen and call it the 3G Turbo. Why innovate when we can follow? Oh, I know why: Because we're a business, that's why!
Stop. I just had a stroke of genius. Are you ready? Open your wallets, baby birds, cause Mama's about to drop you one sweet, fat nightcrawler: $40 Data plans.
You think it's crazy? It is crazy. But I don't give a shit. From now on, we're the ones who have the edge in the cell phone game. We make the rules.
What part of this don't you understand? If two G's is good, and three G's is better, obviously five G's would make us the best fucking network that ever existed. Comprende? We didn't claw our way to the top of the network game by clinging to the two-G industry standard. We got here by taking chances. Well, five G's is the biggest chance of all.
Here's the report from Engineering. Someone put it in the bathroom: I want to wipe my ass with it. They don't tell me what to invent—I tell them. And I'm telling them to stick two more G's in there. I don't care how. Make the clients so thin they're invisible. Put some on the handle. I don't care if they have to cram the fifth G in perpendicular to the other four, just do it!
You're taking the "fast" part of "fast network" too literally, grandma. Cut the strings and soar. Let's hit it. Let's roll. This is our chance to make network history. Let's dream big. All you have to do is say that five G's can happen, and it will happen. If you aren't on board, then fuck you. And if you're on the board, then fuck you and your father.
People said we couldn't go to three. It'll cost a fortune to manufacture, they said. Well, we did it. Now some egghead in a lab is screaming "Five's crazy?" Well, perhaps he'd be more comfortable in the labs at Norelco, working on fucking electrics. Rotary phones, my white ass!
Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe we should just ride in Bic's wake and make pens. Ha! Not on your fucking life! The day I shadow a penny-ante outfit like Bic is the day I leave the phone game for good, and that won't happen until the day I die!
The market? Listen, we make the market. All we have to do is put her out there with a little jingle. It's as easy as, "Hey, browsing with anything less than five G's is like scraping your beard off with a dull hatchet." Or "You'll be so well-connected, I could snort lines off of your chin." Try "Your wallet is going to be so friggin' soft, someone's gonna walk up and tie a goddamn Cub Scout kerchief under it."
I know what you're thinking now: What'll people say? Mew mew mew. Oh, no, what will people say?! Grow the fuck up. When you're on top, people talk. That's the price you pay for being on top. Which AT&T is, always has been, and forever shall be, Amen, sweet Jesus in heaven.