quodlibet  

Forty years you worked day and night, you've abandoned your loving wife; neglected your kids, and smell like old jizz, your eye on the Pulitzer Prize.

Your magnum opus you trust to a box, which runs oh-so-stable MS DOS. The last sentence goes in, you're ready to grin, then a message informs you of loss:

"System corrupted by illegal input. MS DOS has just gone kaput. Cursed as thou art, any attempts at restart will turn your diskettes into soot.