The Dreadful Apostrophe Virus

My department at work has daily morning meetings where we discuss tasks in process, relevant business news, issues & crises, and so on. You know, normal "business" stuff. The facilitator for the meeting usually rolls in a portable white board with the issues to be discussed pre-written. Now, since we build software, we also track high-priority defects in this meeting. Today, the white board had a tally of what I assume from context to be the number of highest priority defects currently open, but the actual text was "Level One's 9."

Now, if we had been referring to some elite strike force in British Intelligence, I probably wouldn't have had a problem with this. But, as I have mentioned in the past, I hate apostrophes. Not in principle, necessarily, but in application.

Let us take alcohol as a comparative example. It can be very useful in cleansing open head wounds and powering clean-burning engines, yet it is hated by many because it is consumed to stupify the brain and free oneself from the oh-so-crushing pressures of moral responsibility. It can also be used to light people and objects on fire.

I am like those alcohol-haters, except with the apostrophe. The use I applaud, the misuse I abhor. If, instead of Mothers Against Drunk Driving, an organization like Mothers Against Apostrophe Misuse existed, I would put on a dress and shoulder the maternal burden to become a member. Yes Ma'am, I would.

And so I'm trying to think of ways to clandestinely alter the white board message so it makes sense.
Little Level One's 9 years old today!
Beware Level One's 9 rabid weasels.
Mama Levelione's 9-cheese pizza.
How to Level One's 9 acre home in 6 easy steps!

Or I guess I could just erase the apostrophe. Maybe add a colon after "Ones." I don't know. Whatever. I'm not picky.