But wait. There's more!  

In the steam-choked pits, the high-performing hobbits finally hit the wall. The mechanics and pilots had bled out for a year, chasing every impossible KPI and keeping a rotting fleet airborne by sheer force of will, all for the ghost of a 5% merit raise.

But the B-itch-Orcs on the Board had already rigged the game. Saurumon and his cronies sat in their ivory towers, hoarding record profits while decreeing that excellence was a "budgetary inconvenience." When the gold was dealt, the Great Eye of Hinch went cold: 3% for everyone. No 5%ers existed. The top performers were dragged back into the mud with the slackers, their sweat and sacrifice discarded by a Board too cowardly to reward the grit that actually kept PHI-ddle Earth from sinking into the swamp. The hobbits stood in the humidity, clutching their pittance, realizing that to an Orc, a hero and a seat-warmer cost exactly the same.