- Why Volkswagen's sales have dipped -

The Volkswagen production plant in Munich was abuzz with excitement. For years, the giant car manufacturer had been torn apart by an internal rift, as disgruntled workers had pledged allegiance to two camps.

In one corner was the team that preferred to base their cars on solid foundations and work from there. Led by a bald, able, stout worker they called Il Capitano, they regularly showed up for work in blue, and were known for this reason as the Azzurri. They made sturdy, reliable cars, but were widely criticised in the media for lacking the finishing touch, that special bit of magic at the end of the assembly line that would kill off competitors' cars.

The other conveyor belt was made up of proud, haughty workers who prided themselves in building their cars with flair and passion. They were commandeered by a bald, able veteran who specialised in the engine, and who had come to be known affectionately as Le Capitane. The man was getting on in years, and to the dismay of his loyal colleagues, he had decided he'd had enough, and today would be his last day at work. Despite the other workers' desperate pleas for him to stay on in his role, he'd chosen to pack it all in, insisiting, "Zis is ze lass day for me. After zis eet ees le finished. I am Ze Over. I am Ze Done!" And indeed he was.

This camp had a brilliant worker at the end of the line who was always ready to do the final wax and buff for the car, to give it that lustre and polish every flash car deserves, that magical finish. And yet he was always eager to push forward before his coworkers could build up the car completely. This team often came to work in blue as well, and were known as Les Bleus.

Today, it was time to see which team would dominate the car-manufacturing industry. It was the day the whole car-watching world had been waiting on tenterhooks for. Le Grande Finale.
The rules were simple: they were to build as many cars as they could within a period of time.
The moment finally came when the umpire blew his whistle, and they were off: both teams frenetically piecing together the parts, Il Capitano leading by example with strong workmanship at the back, Le Capitane magically putting together pieces by himself and making through passes to his frontmen. And then, like a bolt from the blue, Les Bleus drew first blood. Voiture Une, Car One, was complete.

Not to be outdone, the Azzurri pressed on and were quickly rewarded when their first car was completed 10 minutes later.
At the end of the time period, there was little to separate the two sides, and it was decided that the two teams would have a further 30 minutes to prove their worth.
Battle-weary and exhausted, the 2 teams soldiered on, until, in a moment of madness, Le Capitane could take it no more. Frustrated by the way things were shaping up, he smashed his head against an engine; the blood that splurted from his head was pure red. And just like that, Le Capitane drew an ignominious close to an illustrious career.

Oh, and the Azzurri won eventually. But who cares about that bit.