I do not own WALL-E. It is the property of Pixar, which in turn is a property of Disney.

Thoughts of a CEO:

Shelby Forthright, the CEO of BuyNLarge, looked out at the Earth one last time before his personal cruise ship sped him away. He shook his head. He couldn't help but think that somewhere along the line something had gone horribly wrong. The bleak vision before him-the gray continent overrun with garbage, the toxic atmosphere, polluted water, and satellite-locked sky-certainly weren't part of the overall business plan.

It had been so good when he was starting out, too. With the world energy reserves depleting, the third-world countries in chaos, and the old business model seemingly failing, it was time for a fresh new approach. Conglomerates and megacorporations began to surface one by one, vying with the old giants for dominance. But Shelby knew the true key to taking over the market. What the people wanted was...well...everything. And they wanted it all immediately, preferably in one convenient package. They wanted to stop worrying about things. The new American Dream, which infected the world, was to just get whatever you wanted whenever you wanted without worrying about the consequences. Within reason, of course. All he had to do was figure out how to give it to them.

It all started with the robots. He pulled together a major investment, and got some brain-boys into well-lit labs to tinker with parts. Pretty soon they were coming up with all sorts of robots-butlers, barbers, lawnmowers, soldiers-the sky was the limit. People eagerly jumped at the chance to avoid responsibility. Shelby used the profits to expand into other industries. Within the next forty years BuyNLarge became the single biggest corporation on Earth. It bought out all the other corporations, all the Ma-and-Pop stores, and even the world's governments. In a funny mood he once purchased the Buckingham Palace for use as World Headquarters. Ah, those were the glory days.

Then it all took a turn for the worse. While his tactics grew the brand, he forgot about a few things, such as the fact that once things are used they don't just disappear into mid-air. No, that's a lie. He knew that full well. He just sort of blocked it out. Even at the end, it wasn't too bad. They made one last windfall by sending everyone who could afford it into space while creating millions of WALL-E units to try to clean up the mess. For a little while it looked like it all might work out. But then the pollution became bad enough that life was no longer sustainable. So he just gave up. He loaded his personal ship with the remaining scientists, top brass, and yes-men, activated directive A-113, stranding the humans in space where they at least had a chance, and turned off all the WALL-Es-well, probably all of them. It was possible there was one left somewhere, but what difference did it make, really? Not like one robot ever did anything significant. Now he was off too, speeding somewhere into space, leaving the remaining fruits of his labors behind.

BuyNLarge was done for, really. Sure, it had more impact on Earth than any other organization in history. And sure, it would live on forever out in the scattered executive starliners. But the concept of money as such was already destroyed, meaning all the wealth he accumulated, both personally and as part of the company, was now meaningless. He was essentially done for too. The scientific drugs that kept him looking this good for nearly a hundred years couldn't be manufactured on a spaceship. He had maybe a decade of life left before his heart lungs and brain simply turned off quietly. The same went for most of the people on the spaceship with him-they were quite high in the company.

Well, at least it meant no more having to act like the all-American (or all-Global) friendly neighborhood CEO. No more stupid jingles. No more using words like 'gosh-darn' or 'golly' or any of the other terms no one would believe came out of the mouth of a human being. No more having to act cheerful while announcing a planet-wide crisis. The people around him now knew him as he really was-and didn't really care much. They were getting paid enough to put up with him. Well, used to get paid. By now it's become a force of habit, of course.

Shelby Forthright turned his head to the cabin and slid a shutter over the window. For better or for worse, what was done was done. It was time to move on.