The following is a true story, because I said so.

Once upon a time, Randy and Mitchell were smoking pot in the back parking lot of the Apple company place.
“Duuuude,” Randy said.
“Duuuuude,” Mitchell replied.
“Duude, I wish we had more weed,” Randy complained.
“I know dude, but we don’t get paid till next Friday,” Mitchell said.
“I know brah. Dude we need to come up with something that’ll make us a lot of money dude.”
Mitchell giggled. “I know bro, but what?”
Just then Mitchell’s iPhone rang. “Dude..dude…I’m so stoned I can’t even read my phone. I wish this was bigger.”
Randy and Mitchell stared at each other. “DUUUUUUDDEEE!!!” they both exclaimed at the same time.
They finished their joint and rushed back inside to the product engineering department where they worked.
“Check it out everybody; we just came up with the best idea ever. Into the meeting room!”
“Alright brahs and chicks, check this out,” Bob, or Randy, or whatever the hell I’ve arbitrarily named him, said. “Let’s make a big iPod, but not call it an iPod.”
Silence.
“What will it do?” Martha asked.
Mitchell giggled. “Nothing the iPod doesn’t already do.”
“Will it run Mac OS?”
Randall shook his head. “Too complicated to think about. We’ll just use iPhone OS.”
“What will we call it?” Bill asked.
Randall snerked. “The iPad.”
“That sounds like a digital tampon,” Wendy said.
“That doesn’t matter. People will buy anything,” retorted Kevin.
“This is brilliant guys. You’ve introduced a new product idea that doesn’t do anything new, but that we can charge a shitload of money for. Best of all, we can release three different models based on memory size and really wring the dough out of people. Not to mention that since it has that stupid apple logo on it, people will buy it up because it’s uber cool, even though it doesn’t do anything new or exciting.” The voice was Steve Jobs, who for whatever reason had happened by the product engineering department and saw they were all in a meeting. “You two are getting a promotion!”
“Alright!!!!” Mitchell and Randy high-fived.
“Oh guys,” Steve said as they filed out. “Next time you go smoke weed in the parking lot, bring me with, would you? I got some killer shit outta Mexico last week that you guys would love.”
“Right on broseidon,” Mitchell said.
Now that Mitchell and Randy got their promotion, they can afford to smoke all the weed they can find.

The End.