Jony Ive, Tim Cook and Apple’s new credit card and guns

Jony Ive and Tim Cook pull up to an address. They’re in Jony’s Bentley.

Tim looks across at Jony, “Remember the iPhone 4? Antenna-gate?”

“Shiiiiit.” Jony replies.

They swing the doors open and get out.



Tim pops open the trunk, reaches in and tosses a shotgun over to Jony.

“I’ll tell you what though. It was bullshit.”

“I know man.” Tim says while cocking a Beretta.

“No, I mean... I think about it and you know what that shit was?”


Tim and Jony enter a block of grey flats adjacent to the Bentley.

“That shit, now pay attention, is an early example of viral media-created outrage.”

Viral media-created outrage?” Tim repeats.

The two men enter the stairwell at the end of a dingy corridor. Fluorescent lighting flickers.

“Right. That wasn’t a story until the media made that shit a story. There was no outrage until people were told to be outraged. Early twitter bullshit. The shit twitter is now built on now.”

“Come on, Jony. I mean the bars would drop. Which floor is it?”

“Third. Look. So maybe reception drops 10%. Maybe. It’s acceptable. Give a fuck if one in a million calls, some husband half way through asking his wife what she fancies for dinner that night for the 3000th night in a row, the call drops.”

“It was a big deal. Fuck there’s a lot of stairs.”

“The media wrote it, and so it was. The public outrage went viral. But if everyone just shut the fuck up and looked at their phone, their phone was fucking fine.”

“Okay man, I’m just saying the bars would drop. Hey remember Steve? When he sent that email to that guy?”

YOU’RE HOLDING IT WRONG!” they both say this at the same time.


“This the door?”

“Yeah, this is the door.”

Jony taps the butt of his shotgun against the door while standing close to the wall away from the peephole.

They hear the click of the lock unlocking and Tim spins around and kicks open the door.


The man falls backward onto the floor, “WHAT THE FUCK WHO ARE YOU?”

Jony walks in behind Tim.

“I’m Jony. And this is Tim. We’re from Apple. Now where’s our fucking money?”

“What money? What do you mean???”

“Your name is Mathias, correct? You have an Apple credit card?”

“Yes but–”

“Then you owe us money. Tim, how much money does Mathias owe?”

“78 dollars and 62 cents.”

“You hear that Mathias? 78 dollars and 62 cents! And you’re going to pay us.”

“But I paid. I PAID.”

“No Mathias, you made minimum payment. But you didn’t pay the fee for going over your credit limit. And now your fee is a fine.”

“I don’t have it, I swear. If I had the money I would pay but I don’t.”

Jony looks across at Tim, “Tim, is that your problem?”

“It’s not my problem, is it your problem, Jony?”

“Nah man. It ain’t my problem either. Well I guess this is all yours, Mathias. Your big fucking problem.”

“Why you got to do this like this man. I don’t have any money. You think someone with money would choose to be in debt? Come on man you’re Apple. You got all the money.”

Tim grins and roles his eyes.

“You know what it’s like? Living in debt? Living with that weight on you every day? A chain around your neck pulling you down. Even if you ain’t thinking about it you’re thinking about it. Getting paid each month and it’s swallowed on debts and fees. Charging you money because you have none. Do you know what that’s like? You’re Apple man, why you gotta punish poor people for being poor?”

“I’m fucking tired of this.” Tim says raising the butt of his gun.

He moves over to Mathias, who’s still crouched on the floor. Tim looks down at him with his arm in the air and brings his hand down hard–

“Wait.” Jony says.

Tim stops inches away from Mathias’s face, “What is it?”

Jony walks over to the coffee table in front of the sofa and bends down and picks something up.

“What is it Jony?” Tim repeats.

Jony turns around.

“This your iPhone 4?” He waves the beautiful flat metal rimmed device.

“Yeah.” Mathias says, sounding defeated, “I told you, I don’t have any money. I can’t afford a new one.”

“That’s ok. That’s ok. Tell me, Mathias. You ever have problems with this iPhone? Any dropped calls?”

“No, man. Never. It’s perfect.”

“We’re done here Tim.”