Musical Chairs

I had this flash the other day: the layoffs happening in the corporate world are akin to the kid's game of musical chairs. There is a dispassionate orchestrator who plays an innocuous melody while children skip around some chairs. Abruptly, without warning, the operator stops the music. There is a wild scramble, a jostling for position. Laughter, a collective sigh of relief. One person is left out. The person disappears in the background, is no longer in the game. A chair is taken away.
The music starts again, still innocent, though the kids themselves start eyeing each other. Again, the music stops, at random. Perhaps the one without a chair will sit in somebody's lap, hoping for a moment that he can keep going. But there is no mercy. He is unceremoniously thrown out and the same music starts again. The music is the unifying theme. The all-powerful orchestrator makes it linger, and taunts its willing victims.
There is less laughter, more suspicious glances. Round and round they go with more dissatisfied people on the sidelines until the interest wanes. Kids are ready to move on. But the game hasn't yet played itself out. We need a winner.
Finally, there is a winner. It is the person who is now alone. I never realized that was the goal...