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February 28th, 1982
Osborne Computer Corporation
California

"We have no cash!!!"
Adam Osborne paced back and forth, chain-smoking clove cigarettes and weeping profusely. Behind him, his accountant was frantically working on the world's only Osborne Executive prototype. Squinting at the three-inch screen, the accountant's head fell onto the desk.
"We're ruined, sir. As soon as word got out about the Executive, nobody wanted to buy the Model One anymore. I don't even know if I'll get paid for this."
Stubbing his last cigarette out in a desk ashtray, Adam lamented his inevitable doom. "But how? It literally only exists in here! Nothing was leaked! This makes no sense."
"Knock knock!"
Adam and his accountant's heads rose out of their imaginary troughs of misery. Nolan Bushnell was there, standing in the hall outside their now-open office door. He had a ratty sock puppet with a nametag reading CHUCK which he was using to entertain Osborne's children, who were supposed to be in school.
"Yeah, sorry about that. My bad. I just thought it was so cool when I broke in here for drug money a few weeks ago, had to go tell a friend, then a few more friends, they tell their friends, I went on the news disguised as you… well, you know how these things go."
Adam's temples were throbbing. "You son of a bitch. You've ruined me."
Nolan reached to Adam's daughter, Peggy, and covered her ears. "Hey, man, watch your mouth. There's kids here."
Without thinking, Adam took a swing at Nolan, hitting pay dirt. The sound of the impact on Nolan's nose was akin to a bridge breaking over the Ohio river, up to and including going down like a stone.
But only for a moment.
Rising back to his feet, Nolan wiped the blood oozing from his nostrils on his sleeve. "Adam… didn't you ever read the Bible? Don't you know that he who was first, will now be last?"
Backing up, Adam raised his palms defensively. "Look, Nolan, I was angry, you hurt me but, but I didn't want to hurt you."
Nolan threw the rat puppet to the ground, revealing a concealed revolver. 'Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!' went the gun. Adam's accountant was riddled with bullets. Adam and his children screamed in the cacophony, the little ones fleeing down the hall. Frozen, Adam curled up into a ball, shaking and gasping for breath. The ashtray on the desk flipped over to shower him in smokey debris and light accountant viscera.
Nolan began fishing in his pocket for more bullets, squinting down the barrel at Adam, but at that moment the phone on the desk began ringing. Weapon now half-pointing at Adam, Nolan grabbed the receiver and shouldered it, tossing the trailing cable behind him. "You've got Bushnell. Yeah? That score for how much? You know I'm there, Rudy! Get the boys and we'll burn the house down. Yeah. However you want. Just don't forget the long raw bars again. Seeya."
Hanging up, Bushnell picked up his now-bloodstained puppet, not even looking at Adam. "Okay, don't move, I'll be right back." A few steps away and he was gone.
Adam was alone in the dark now. He didn't know how long he'd been in the fetal position on this scratchy office carpet. Even on that, he was 50/50 and hoping on actually being dead.
Adam… all of us will die someday.
"This isn't what you promised. You said we'd be remembered for all time!"
Do not fret. You will be remembered. Your failure shall be so stunning, to stand as an example for all time.
So it was that the Osborne Effect came to be, much to its namesake's chagrin.