Once upon a time, there lived a Little Tailor.  Unfortunately, there were even littler tailors, mostly teenaged, in sweatshops in Vietnam, Mexico, and some Pacific islands you've never heard of.  Those littler tailors could do his job for a fraction of his cost.  As a result, our hero had fallen on hard times, and this was reflected in the alarming accumulation of dust in his miserable little apartment.  So, it was hardly surprising that one day, having accidentally snorted up a noseful of dust, he let out a tremendous sneeze.
    "Wow!" said the Little Tailor.  "What a magnificent sneeze!  I wonder how many germs I discharged?  I bet it must've been ... oh, 6,000, at least!"
    And that gave the little tailor an idea.  Since his tailoring career was going nowhere, perhaps it was time for a change.
    "Time to update my resume," he said.  "Hmm.  Cut and sew cloth.  No, that will never do for a fine fellow like me.  I'm cut out (and sewn) for bigger things!"
    And he typed up a new resume that said the following:  "Six thousand at one blow!"
    It was time to seek his fortune, but before going, the Little Tailor prudently decided to take something to eat.  All he could find was an egg, so he put that in his pocket.  On his way out the door, he saw a bird caught in a bush.  "What the heck?" he thought, and he also put the bird in his pocket.  Thus prepared, and with resume in hand, he went off to see the world.  It wasn't long before he encountered a Giant Computer Manufacturer.
    "Who the heck are you?" asked the Giant.
    "Who am I?" retorted the Little Tailor.  "Just take a look at this!"  And he thrust his resume under the Giant's nose.
    "Six thousand at one blow?" thought the Giant.  "This might be just the guy I need to cut costs in this slowing economy."  However, he wanted proof before making any commitments to this unknown upstart.  "So, you think you're pretty hot stuff, huh?" said the Giant aloud.  "Well, here's how we handle competition!"
    With that, the Giant whipped out a laptop computer and started it up.  After about ten minutes, he had gotten through all the installs and security measures.  "Windows 2000," he apologized.  "But look at this!" he sneered.  The screen was covered with vivid graphical representations of the mighty Giant jumping up and down on some pathetic wretch.  "Stomp the Competition!" screamed the screen in flashing, retina-burning hues.  "Whattaya think of that?" said the Giant, smugly folding his arms.
    "Kiddie stuff!" scoffed the Little Tailor.  He took the egg from his pocket and crushed it over the Giant's keyboard, which instantly seized up.
    "Why, you little ..." began the Giant, but he found the maneuver delightfully petty.  "Hmm.  Ok, I'll give you that one.  But we really treat our employees like dirt.  We call them 'resources' and confuse them with Byzantine procedures and never let them get a full night's sleep.  Can you top that, Mr. Six Thousand at One Blow?"
    The Little Tailor laughed and gave the giant a wave of dismissal.  "Amateurs!" he said, and released the bird from his pocket.  The relieved bird circled above the Giant's head and relieved itself again.
    "Ee-yuk!" squealed the Giant.  "Ok, you're hired.  But here's the deal.  First, you have to cut costs and raise profits.  You have one quarter to do that.  If you're successful, you get to be on the Board of Directors and I give you 18 bezillion dollars in cash and stock options.  But if you aren't successful, I'll eat your liver!"
    "Consider those costs cut and those profits raised," said the Little Tailor, who had now become the Little Corporate Killer.
    Why mess with a successful formula?  The Little Corporate Killer laid off 6,000 employees with a single pen stroke.
    Then he issued a press release.  This is what it said:  "These job actions are necessary to position the company to profitably gain market share going forward.  That means we're going to make a bundle, and anyone who gets in the way is collateral damage."
    Then he issued a statement to the remaining employees.  This is what it said:  "Gosh, we're sure sorry about the poor suckers we laid off, but tough luck, you know?  It wasn't anything personal, which makes it ok.  Anyway, we owed it to you, the survivors.  So, work hard and remember how lucky you are.  (And if you're too dense to understand this, it could've been you, and it still could be you, if you know what I mean.)"
    The Giant was very impressed.  "The Market" was very impressed.  "The Street" was very impressed.
    But there did turn out to be one small problem at the end of the quarter...
    "Whattaya mean we lost money?" roared the Giant.  "How could we lose money?"
    "Relax," said the Little Corporate Killer.  "We didn't lose money.  We made 50 million dollars."
    "The quarterly report says we lost 50 million!" screamed the Giant.  "Your liver is mine!"
    "No no no no no," persisted the Little Corporate Killer.  "It only looks like we lost 50 million.  We actually made 50 million.  The layoffs cost 100 million, but that's just a one-time charge."
    "So, if we hadn't laid anybody off, we would have made 50 million?"  The Giant was positively apoplectic.
    "No," insisted the Little Corporate Killer, "we did make 50 million.  The layoffs were necessary to position the company to profitably gain market share going forward.  Remember?  Or, if you prefer, we could make up the difference by slashing executive salaries and bonuses."
    "Oh, yeah," mumbled the Giant.  "Position the company.  Market share.  Welcome to the Board."
    "Thank you," said the Little Director.