Whats Your choice: Abort, Retry, Ignore.

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Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary, System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor, Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, Still I sat there, doing spreadsheets: Having reached the bottom line, I took a floppy from the drawer. Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command But got instead a reprimand: It read, "Abort, Retry, Ignore." Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion? These were choices Solomon himself had never faced before. Carefully, I weighed my options. These three seemed to be the top ones. Clearly, I must now adopt one - Choose: "Abort, Retry, Ignore." With my fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending, Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored, Praying for some guarantee Finally I pressed a key - But on the screen what did I see? Again: "Abort, Retry, Ignore." I tried to catch the chips off-guard - I pressed again, but twice as hard. Luck was just not in the cards, I saw what I had seen before. Now I typed in desperation, Trying random combinations. Still there came the incantation - Choose: "Abort, Retry, Ignore." There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted; Getting up, I turned away and paced across the office floor. And then I saw an awful sight, A bold and blinding flash of light, A lightning bolt that cut the night and shook me to my very core. The PC screen collapsed and died, "Oh no - my database!" I cried. I thought I heard a voice reply, "You'll see your data - nevermore!" To this day I do not know the place to which our data goes. Perhaps it goes to Heaven where the angels have it stored. But as for productivity - Well, I fear that it goes straight to Hell. And that's the tale I have to tell - Your choice: Abort, Retry, Ignore.