IDEA # 1
A man who has everything jet sets around the world. He wears perfect suits with no tie, carries women and suitcases in and out of towers of steel and glass, from helicopter to helicopter. Noisy. He always rides the elevator to the top. He flashes his perfect smile, all the older men shake his hand and are jovial; he gets to his high-rise office. looking out over late summer coastal Oregon. Things quiet down. The ocean is bright blue, but the sky is dark, a lightning bolt flashes in the distance. He looks at it, he sips his coffee, the phone has been ringing. He picks it up and he’s off again~
Working all day, doing his thing being handsome and impressive, and a beast in the fields.
He gets home to his mansion on the cliffs and has a pool party with champagne, beautiful slutty women. He barbecues. It is merry. They are playing with a neon yellow paddle in the pool, splashing each other.
Then at like 3am, he looks around his yard, dark, a total shitshow, & everyone is passed out or gone, and it is a mess. he smiles he pulls the yellow paddle from the pool, and disappears down some cliff stairs to the shore.
The waves are sloshing, his feet pounds the sand; it’s quiet out here, he runs down the shore, sliding his canoe like a spear through the sand. he crashes in to the cold black surf, jumps in, and paddles for the lightning on the horizon. he shakes his mane out and roars, all the trash of the day falls away, and he paddles into the storm, as if he were the thunder-god himself.
Storm God High-Performance Canoes.
The sun rises, men get out of houses and go to work. They are different men: one wears glasses and works in the office; another is like Mr. Dad — is a contractor in between jobs, and the last is a construction worker. After work, they all pull into the hardware store in their respective vehicles and buy different things.
They go home and build. The sawing the sawdust flying, the gears and wrenches twisting, the sweat the glory of men building, the fun, they are in their element; a 2 x 4 falls off the roof and suprises his daughter in her bedroom window. she is like wtf, looking through her telescope. he salutes her, sorry girl. The glasses nerd is actually a ripped up dude building a particle accelerator in his basement, his goggles reflect neon green light and he smiles maniacally.
The construction worker bought a cooler and some caulking FOR TOMORROW, and is playing guitar on the porch drinking beer like FUCK THAT. he does it all day!
This goes on for a while, and the three men are sometimes alienated; the nerd doesn’t see his friends; the dad is on the roof a lot and has only girls who don’t understand him, and the construction working is teaching his son to play guitar, but they have no space.
Then they all are finished. Even though the men are weird and want to build, they do it out of love: the nerd was building a jacuzzi for a friend for a wedding gift. He fell in love with his welder — a hot girl— as they built this side-job super jacuzzi. so he finds love over it.
The dad has built a second story balcony for his wife and daughters. They love him, he flexes, he knows he is the man. But the construction worker builds nothing.
Then, he gets up in the middle of the night, and has an idea. By the morning, he has built a sound studio in the backyard! It shines made of new hardware store wood. He even has the sound equipment installed (from the garage!) then when his kid gets up, He shows it to him, and the play a song together, the song of the HARDWARE STORE.
Caveman Hardware Store: MAN BUILD.
IDEA #3 Style for Style. Ad for Ad.
Boss:Goddamn it Sampson! Get in that room and make up some ideas with those noodlehead fucks of yours.
Four men sit around a table, drumming their fingers, chewing their pens, considering their new assignment. This goes on for some time.
Sampson: a young woman. She wants: to be hot, to be strong, to find love, to be on the come up. We pick a single color of lipstick to represent the entire brand in the ad. We can use red, sexy, powerful, traditional, grayscales very well; or blue, which is like android cyber-tech, robotrix from the future.
Yeah IDK about that, Sampson. They’re more like, young twenty-something new wifey. We can’t use blue robotic: that’ll scare them.
Jessica Rabbit Red also tends to scare them.
Sampson: Okay then: a shade like a rose in autumn, in the gold sunset light, a shade of red, but warmed at the edges to almost orange.
For the demure girl, who is beautiful beyond imagination, but is shy; she does like her beauty, and all sorts of urges stir within her, she wants a means of expression that suits her. She knows she’s hot, but she keeps it on the down-low, she doesn’t compete against the darker shades of lipstick. She keeps it together. Her sexiness is within. Her lipstick doesn’t have to be dark: she’s dark as fuck.
Dark As Fuck: The Orange Lipstick.
Yeah IDK about that. I’m suspicious you don’t know what you’re doing. “The Orange Lipstick” said no successful person ever. (laughter)
Four men sit around a table, drumming their fingers, chewing their pens, considering their new assignment. This goes on for some time. It begins to rain, the water streaming down the large windows. Then it stops. One of them sits up, and says: eat a bag of dicks!
What? No, absolutely we’re not doing that.
We have a client who who needs to re-brand his 100% angus beef, organic hot dogs, because of a embezzling scandal and a plant explosion! he needs a powerful rebranding. and he wanted us! And by us, I mainly mean me; he wanted my flavor on the situation. He wants a bag of dicks.
That makes no sense whatsoever.
Sampson: On the internet, “eat a bag of dicks” has been trending now for months, if not years. Its catchy! It’s over-the-top, its bold. We package the hot dogs loosely, in a sack, not a tight little brick. It’ll be a bag of dicks! The internet would LOVE a real bag of dicks in real life.
But no one wants to think of severed penises when they’re buying hot dogs.
I do get told to quote “eat a bag of dicks” several times a week on Twitter.
This is grotesque. No one will go for that. Not the company, not our company.
We market to the down-trodden, the unlucky, the pariahs of the world. angry? Just experienced a terrible loss? Humiliated in an argument? Feeling super butthurt? Eat a bag of dicks!
Wait! This’ll work if we call the hot dogs “Dick’s Hot Dogs.”
Yes exactly, duh BRAD. I was not suggesting we call them “bag of dicks” hot dogs, but Dicks. We take the phrase from the internet and make it our own. Advertise normally, but ironically, so to be in on the joke. Package them in bags, we have a chance at the 9-13 yr old prankster demographic:
end of commercial: (at the dinner table) “hey dad!”
“eat a bag of dicks! (holds up bag of dicks)
(dad is unsure how to respond)
I think even the middle-upper class waspy types will enjoy saying bag of dicks. They can giggle with their pearls on and be naughty. And on top of that, these are damn good hot dogs.
I’m not sure if this is a terrible idea or complete genius.
maybe its both. Things are often both things. For example I, for example, am terribly genius.
eat a bag of dicks, DON.
(looks at clock) I really hope this isn’t our best idea we have when the client shows up.