Pythagorean to a Fault

Our customers beg for perfect squares.  The poorest of them will take a second mortgage on their house just to procure one. If they only knew how badly we made rectangles bleed.  Draw the curtain once again and this time and close the door.   Perfection is a type of concealment.  Geometry was never not kind. It needed a fancy bow, so we gave it one.  Yet, It is involuntary surgery of the worst kind.  We mutilators of the whole do not rest until every man and woman is able to have a square on their countertop.  Shapes do quiver if you watch them long enough.  I've seen the exposed nerves of a triangle.  Have you?  The most abominable angles do not come from education.  They are wrought by a heartless business.  We are the monsters that stagnate the flow into numbers and charts.  If the wind whistles, we can give you the first half of it, and throw the end part away like a banana peel.   Our endeavor is to phase out trough and mass produce crest.   This gruesome power to make parts out of the living sucks in communities, collapses mores, and decimates intimacy.  Know you know our dirty little secret.  Should I cancel your order for a square, or would you rather not fall behind?