“So, Jimmy. Looks like you been a bad boy, rattin’ us out to the cops.”

“It wasn’t me, Pete, I swear—”

“Cut the crap, Jimmy. It was you. And now you’re gonna pay the price.”

“Wh-what are you gonna do? Shoot me?”

“Jimmy, Jimmy. This ain’t New York. We’re the Silicon Valley mafia. Killin’ ya would be too fast. So instead, we’re gonna sell ya to Yahoo.”

“…What? I don’t understand…”

“Then lemme spell it out for ya. First, you’re gonna languish, starved for cash to develop and expand. Then your top talent’s gonna take the hint and start clearin’ out. Pretty soon your user base’ll catch on, and it’s gonna get mighty lonely.

“You’ll die, Jimmy – piece by piece, whether they finally just give you the ol’ pink slip or cut you up and sell you for parts. By the time they’re finished with ya, you’ll be wishin’ to God I’d have just put a bullet in your head.”

“Do I… do I at least get options and a signing bonus?”

“Of course. We ain’t monsters.”