Retail Drone 3 or The Joy of Gullible Colleagues

I love working with gullible people.
This is opposed to working with stupid people which is no fun at all. Stupid people are too dumb to be gullible. They just accept any bovine excrement you care to pour past their trusting, imbecile eyes and down their gaping maws. There's no challenge. For true gullibility goodness, the target must be smart, or at least have some sense of credulity. Anything else is cheating.
I've had some fun at my new job. Several of the staff are young, which is a good start. Two didn't know who Chuck Norris was. I mean, come on! Chuck Norris!
My linux-loving colleague Karl is possibly the best target. This is because he knows about four things in life:

Linux
High-definition TVs
Computers
Computers that run Linux. (In HD.)

Most of the other basic elements of human interaction entirely escape him. Like happened today.
Some kid was fiddling with one of the computers we sell. Karl was drifting around not doing much, so I said:

"Hey, Karl. Is it bad if that kid is, um, editing the registry?"

Karl went completely white.

"Yes, it is bad! Stop him!" he screamed, much too loud.

The kid, who was playing Peggle, bolted. The rest of us had a good laugh, except Karl, who didn't quite get it and kept trying to explain that editing the registry was a Bad Thing.

There's plenty more of this kind of thing, but I'm tired from a long Sunday at work and can't remember any. I guess I'll start keeping a bit of a list and blog 'em as they happen.

Other things that come to mind:

More Hillbillies: We had some real class acts come in today. Two guys and a girl. One bloke had the best (worst?) sideburns I'd ever seen and a tattoo of his name on his neck. His neck! The other sported a gut that could only be the product of a diet of beer, chips, lard, and tapeworms. Neither wore shirts. The girl was special. She looked like she'd fallen pregnant at 12, aborted, and consoled herself by eating solidly for the next six years. None of the staff went anywhere near them. White trash tend not to buy things anyway, unless they've sold a real good haul of weed or the caravan's burned down and they're pulling an insurance scam.

The Assistant Manager quit: Sad, because he was a good bloke. Happy, because this gives Karl the chance to fulfill his life's dream and rise to Assistant Manager.

Rap Sucks: We recently got the TVs fixed and now they're tuned to C4 all the time. Apparently C4 could change its name to The Rap And RnB Channel and no-one would notice. It's all they show. Which raises some questions:

Why do rappers all include the phrase "in da club" in all their songs? Is it a pre-requisite of some kind?
Why are all rap girlfriends (bitches?) called "shorty?" Is it a dwarf fetish thing?
Why is the median strip on a busy motorway the perfect place to sing a heartfelt ballad to your beloved?
Why is it surprising that police would try and catch a man "rolling with the gangsters," riding dirty? Isn't that what gangsters do, generally?
WHY, IN THE NAME OF GOD, DOES ANYONE LISTEN TO THIS HORRIBLE, GENERIC, USELESS, SOUL-CRUSHING MUSIC!?!?!

Look what they made me do. All caps and four exclamation marks. The world is screwed. Seriously.