Once upon a time, in the quaint village of Budgetville, there were two little constructors named Gear and Chain, who were supervised by one eccentric manager called the Boss. They set out to build a simple bicycle for the local postman who cherished his daily rides.
Gear, fitting the first wheel, sang, "A simple bike, with pedals and a seat, that's all we'll need for him to make his beat."
Chain, with her wrench, nodded, "And a bell, nothing more, nothing less."
But the Boss, peering over his spectacles, declared, "Oh, but what's a bike without a motor? Imagine the speed!"
Gear, blinking in disbelief, replied, "A motor? For a postman who enjoys the breeze in his face?"
"Oh, don't be so provincial," scoffed the Boss, "We'll need a sidecar too! For... extra mail. And compliance with the village's transport regulations, of course."
Chain, now tightening bolts with a grimace, muttered, "Compliance? Next, we'll need a permit for each pedal stroke."
But the scope crept further. "Wings!" exclaimed the Boss, "For soaring over the village... or perhaps just for showing off. We must ensure they meet airworthiness directives and are world-class quality."
Gear, now knee-deep in blueprints and red tape, sighed, "We started with a bicycle, now we're navigating a regulatory nightmare."
"And a navigation system," added the Boss, "For... not getting lost in the clouds."
With each new idea, and with no one able to stop the Boss’ drunkenness of requirements eliciting, the bicycle transformed, sprouting wings and gadgets, sprawling across the workshop like a bad case of overengineered bureaucratic ambition. The original plan—a simple bike for the postman—was now just a myth, buried under layers of standards, compliance checks, safety certifications, and environmental impact assessments.
The Boss, standing before the monstrosity, announced, "Behold, our masterpiece! A bike so complex, so compliant, the postman might never find his pedals through the paperwork!"
Gear, looking at the flying contraption, quipped, "Or his route. It might require international airspace clearance by now."
Chain, her voice dripping with sarcasm, added, "And to think, we could have made six simple bikes with this budget, but no, we had to impress with one grandiose, over-regulated folly."
And so, kids, the tale of the bicycle in Budgetville teaches us: beware the creeping scope, for it can turn a simple ride into a skyward journey of bureaucratic lunacy, where the only thing certain is that the constructors will never find their way back to sanity.
Night night.