In a solemn ceremony attended by throngs of bewildered citizens, the National Bureau of Credit Metrics was officially shuttered yesterday. The agency's final 47 years had already been eclipsed by palm readings and handshake firmness evaluations, yet grieving bureaucrats still managed to shed tears while maintaining a grip strength variance of 0.4 psi, as reported by outgoing director Lenora M. Throttle.
The bureaucratic spectacle carried its own quirks. Wreaths from the Sun Belt Landlords Association arrived shaped like open palms, ribbons etched with “doom lines.” Surviving employees tried to rally support by tying the closure to the palmistry surge, noting that every landlord worth their salt now treats credit scores like rotary phones.
In a final irony, the Bureau’s legacy amounts to 340,000 unopened envelopes marked 'For Credit Purposes Only,' now repurposed as hand sanitizer dispensers inside FEMA’s new omen shelters. As the wall of obsolescence advances nine subdivisions from the last county fair, the metrics of the past sit as relics beside the palmistry wave.
