God bless America! In the land of opportunity, scooter-entrepreneurs like myself can score an easy Xbox.
Here, have a leaflet! Do you have a wife? Have another! (Leaflet, that is.) Yeah, we’ve seen a lot of each other lately. That’s ‘cuz I took a week off of school to further my career in direct marketing. See, the fat guy over at Squeegie’s Car Wash put together this little leaflet and told me he’d pay me a penny for every one I distributed. He handed me a thousand leaflets, stuck a crumpled cigar in his mouth, and sneered a yellow-toothed grin.
The fool! My contract has no upper limit. I immediately took my scooter to mom’s office and photocopied another thousand leaflets, doubling my potential profits. You see, I’m dying to get my hands on an Xbox and a copy of Halo. By my calculations, a $299 Xbox and a $49 game comes out to 34,998 leaflets. I figure I’ll make it an even 40,000 to cover tax and expenses (wear and tear on the scooter, increased caloric intake, Britney Spears temporary tattoo … the usual expenses.)
I started with the standard distribution channels – you know, car windshields. Tucked under front doors. Dropped into mailboxes. It’s funny how quickly you can run out of cars and households in a community like ours. After the first couple of thousand leaflets, I had to get more clever.
So, after the front car windshield, I’d usually tuck one into the back windshield. Car’s unlocked? I stick a couple in the glove compartment. During the mall riots I was tucking them into the stretchers as they were being carried into the ambulances. I sneak them into school lockers. I hide them in cereal boxes at the Supermarket. I tape them on to people’s backs.
Sometimes an office building will complain when I’m busy plastering their cars for my second spamming of the day (most cars are viable targets both before and after lunch). I usually cut them a deal … if they let me use their photocopier to make more leaflets, I make their office building off-limits. Usually they give in. This is what I call “Viral Marketing.”
Once my friends got wind of how close I was to being able to buy Halo, they started chipping in to help. Now I’m Chief Executive Officer with a total of six Vice-Presidents overseeing a network of seventeen salespeople, all distributing hundreds of leaflets a day in a sixty mile radius of Squeegie’s. Only fifteen thousand more to deliver! At this rate, we might ALL get Xboxes. Here, have another. Mr. Squeegie is gonna be psyched! I wonder if that’s his real name?
THEY CLAIM TO
HAVE CANCELLED MAJESTIC, BUT I’M NOT FOOLED
Despite the problems its caused me, I’ve been a big fan of Majestic, that computer adventure game that interrupts your real life. You know, it calls you on your cell phone, sends you instant messages, etc. etc. I was busily unravelling the deepening mystery when they announced that the game was going to be cancelled. It all smacked of a bogus announcement to me. No, I thought something fishy was up.
Sho’ nuff, no sooner do I hear the game was “cancelled” than I find a leaflet on my car window from “Squeegie’s Car Wash.” I didn’t think anything of it at first … but the next day, when I was working out at the gym, I discovered that someone had stuck a leaflet in my pants pockets while I was in the showers. I also found six in the trunk of my car. Why, just yesterday I found one inside my ham sandwich. It was eerie … because I had packed my own lunch.
Someone’s definitely trying to get in touch with me. I can only conclude this “Squeegie” guy is my next big clue. Maybe he’s behind the Majestic-cancellation hoax. Or maybe he’s the head of the underground terrorist organization I was tracking down. Regardless, I’m investing in a ski mask and some infrared goggles. I plan to take this sonofabitch down. If I don’t come back, I left my will and testament with EA customer service…
Mr. Squeegie must be doin’ MAD business. Just this morning I checked it out and all the cops were lined up outside – he musta landed a civil contract ‘cuz of me!
Score: 8.46; Total Votes: 1316 as of 2009-12-09.