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Title: Modern Advertising
Author: Allan T. Price
Article:
Scott carefully pushed the conference door with his shoulder,
all the while watching the tray of coffee cups. As the door
opened, he heard the soft whisper of executive voices. He
turned, letting the door swing shut, and the murmur died away.
Worried, Scott inadvertently clenched the tray. His fingers
relaxed as he saw it wasn't anything he'd done. Charles Hawk,
the vice president of new projects stood looking at his minions.
"So, if we are gong to launch this amazing next wave computer
storage device, we need to advertise. Get our name out there, so
people know 'Data Crystals' have replaced floppy disks." Scott
started moving around the room, putting coffee cups in front of
the executives and trying not to be noticed. Didn't they know
removable drives had replaced floppies? At best, data crystals
would replace CD-ROM. Charles Hawk looked at Petersen, who
nodded. "Advertising, in the modern world, means television."
Unnoticed, Scott shook his head. Petersen gestured at the papers
in front of him. "We'll need about three hundred thousand to
make a pair of ads, and then one hundred thousand to run them.
We'll do five times the first week, then three a week for three
months." All eyes turned back to Charles Hawk. He watched
Garretson from accounting tapping at his palmtop computer.
"Three, and five, and forty two for fourteen weeks... A nice
even five million." He glanced suspiciously at Petersen.
"Exactly five." He nodded to Charles Hawk. "We can do that."
Scott left, still unnoticed. They tossed around millions like it
was play money. What could he do with the five million they were
about to waste advertising non-rewritable devices on television?
Garretson picked up the phone handset. Before he could even
identify himself, Charles Hawk's executive assistant asked, "Did
you look at that outside bid for the data crystal advertising?"
"Outside bid?" "It should be there." Hawk's assistant sounded
either worried or excited. "In a red folder, in accord with the
new company procedures." Garretson looked through the pile of
files and found a standard red folder. "Here it is. When did we
start outsourcing?" "We aren't, unless they can do the job much
cheaper. I think someone just wants to show that outside
contractors wouldn't be more efficient by letting them bid to do
peripheral jobs." Hawk's assistant paused, and then sounded
calmer. "There is a copy of the memo with the bid. Let me know
what you think." Garretson looked through the folder finding the
copy of the memo that had been sent to a contractor, 'Silfur
Talsyn'. It was a photocopy of a photocopy but he could read
most of it. It was largely 'waffle' about making the company
more efficient by using outside contractors if they could do a
job just as well but for lower costs. Garretson suspected that
the company would buy out any company that did anything more
efficient than the existing department so to replace them.
Unfortunately, one time the memo was photocopied someone hadn't
unfolded it completely, so the bottom of the text was missing.
Without the signature block and department, Garretson couldn't
tell who'd written the original memo. Turning to the bid itself,
Silfur Talsyn offered nationwide advertising for a period of
three months, for two million dollars. They seemed to think the
company had budgeted for three and a half to four million. If it
was real, and they could deliver on their promise, the company
would save millions. There had to be a catch. Reading carefully,
Garretson found nothing amiss. Silfur Talsyn was offering
virtually the same goals for audience targets as their five
million dollar campaign, and a full refund if they failed to
meet those targets. Putting it aside Garretson leaned back,
staring into space turning the facts over in his mind. After a
few minutes, it came to him. "That is cunning. It is such a
trivial detail, it might have just worked." He called Hawk's
assistant. "Sorry, it only looks like a golden goose. It's just
a scam. They have no intention of doing anything. They will just
take our money, and then bank it in a short-term bond at twelve
percent earning sixty thousand. After three months, they will
apologize for their failure, refund our original two million and
pocket seventy five thousand for doing nothing." "Are you sure?"
"Look, write back to them in..." he looked at the folder,
"Gainesville, and offer them two and a half, but with a hundred
and five percent penalty clause. If I'm right, they'll say no,
since investing our money will get them seventy five, but
they'll owe us an extra one hundred and twenty five."
Scott was shocked to be offered another half a million, and
spent hours confused as to why they'd offered more, and why they
wanted one hundred and five percent back. Was he supposed to
make a hundred thousand dollars, as well as run a successful
advertising campaign? He'd sent the bid, and phony memo,
expecting failure would only cost him around three hundred
dollars in expenses. Why were the stakes suddenly raised so
high? After nearly three hours, he realized the potential for
interest on two million dollars. He wrestled with himself for a
few days. How sure was he his idea would work? Was he willing to
bet his house and his car his idea was as good, or better, than
their out-of-date television campaign? In the end, he decided he
didn't have that much to lose, and it would be sure to work, if
he was willing to give away the half a million bonus.
This time, Hawk's assistant came over to Garretson's office.
"Silfur Talsyn agreed. A penalty of one hundred and five
percent." Garretson stared at him. "So. It wasn't... isn't a
simple scam." He gestured for the assistant to leave. "Arrange a
meeting with your boss and Petersen." The advertisement shoot
was to start in two days. Discussing it with Garretson and
Petersen, Charles Hawk decided to go ahead with the shoot
regardless, since they'd spent so much on it already. "But we'll
put a hold on all plans to launching it." Charles Hawk stood,
and his two minions followed his lead. "You have until the end
of the day to check out Silfur Talsyn."
At five thirty pm, his assistant showed Garretson and Petersen
back into Charles Hawk's office. Charles Hawk was waiting, hands
folded on his lap. "So, what have you found out?" Petersen
jumped in first. "I checked their website and they're clearly a
fast-moving, bold, wireless, 'redefine assumptions' style of
company. Plus, no one has a bad word to say about them."
Garretson gave a dry chuckle. "I contacted a broad range of
people, and no one has a bad word to say because no one has even
heard of Silfur Talsyn. They were registered as a company just a
month ago in Florida where you can register fairly cheaply. It
is a private company, owned and run by someone named Scott
Carpenter." None of them recalled hearing of him before. Charles
Hawk tapped his expensive-looking pen. "It is only two and a
half, but I'd hate to delay the launch by three months."
Petersen grinned. "Well, give it a month and a half and then
reconsider. With the ad in the can, we can launch in two months
to overlap with the Silfur Talsyn campaign...perhaps tailoring
our campaign to dovetail if they have any success."
Scott called in sick and then took out the bank statement again.
Silfur Talsyn's assets had gone from less than three hundred
dollars to two million, five hundred thousand, two hundred and
eighty four dollars overnight. He got busy spending some of the
money. Then he realized he might as well quit his job. For the
next three months he was the head of a company with two million
dollars. Then he'd either be rich, or broke. Either way, his
life as a lowly assistant was over.
Scott emailed the address of his new website
www.nottheCIAcharity.com, to everyone in the company as well as
various friends and contacts. The website claimed a group, which
couldn't confirm it was the CIA, or even a federal government
agency, had transferred the files they didn't keep on all
citizens onto the new data crystals. Below the information about
data crystals they explained this had saved them nearly half a
million dollars. Not wanting to return money, since they'd then
get a smaller budget next year, the might-be-CIA was giving the
money away. One hundred and twenty thousand dollars was to be
sent each month, for four months, to the charity most voted for
by people visiting the site. Each winner was to be excluded from
further wins.
Garretson voted for The Red Cross, giving his email address as
proof of identity. Curious that Silfur Talsyn could afford to
give away so much, Garretson realized they were only giving away
the half a million he'd casually offered with the extra five
percent penalty. He decided it would be best not to tell anyone
that.
In a week, the website was mentioned on various television news
shows and in a number of newspapers, and reporters began
investigating. They announced the website was owned by Silfur
Talsyn, and that the name was Icelandic for 'Silver Phantom' or
'Silver Will-o-the-Wisp'. That seemed appropriate, as people
failed to discover much else about the company. All mail to
their P.O. Box in Gainesville was redirected, so the head of
Silfur Talsyn seemed to be in the same city as Garretson.
Annoyed, some reporters started attacking Silfur Talsyn,
claiming it was cruel to promise such a large donation and not
deliver. Scott Carpenter replied by pointing out that the first
donation was due in five days, so he hadn't defaulted. Then he
followed by saying that the donation would be made on time, live
on the 'The Oprah Winfrey Show'.
Garretson was watching, and saw Scott, who used to work for
Petersen, representing Silfur Talsyn. Not only speaking on
behalf of the president of Silfur Talsyn, but claiming to be
Scott Carpenter. Garretson called his fellow executive. "That
kid, Scott, who worked for you... What was his last name?" "I'm
watching too, and I have someone finding out right now."
Two months into the contract, Scott wrote to Charles Hawk
detailing how many people had voted on www.nottheCIAcharity.com,
and stating Silfur Talsyn had already exceeded the targets
promised. Scott asked if the company wished to pay another one
million three hundred and sixty thousand dollars for another
three months of not-CIA Charity. The letter also offered to
stream their ad on his website, twenty-four hours a day, for
what it would cost to broadcasting it on television once a week.
Charles Hawk sent copies to Petersen and Garretson with a brief
note. "Organize website and streaming our ad. Hire this guy."
Garretson contacted Scott, suggesting one million two hundred
and forty thousand, since he'd already committed to pay the
fourth donation. "Am I getting the hundred thousand a week?" "If
you agree, yes." "Okay." Garretson hesitated, but then decided
to be direct. "Charles Hawk also wants us to hire you. What
could we offer to lure you back?" Scott laughed. "I have
millions of dollars. I'm getting all kinds of offers to do talk
shows and head charities." He went silent. Garretson lowered his
voice. "Any way I could convince Silfur Talsyn to hire me?" "No,
sorry Garretson. I'm selling the company and retiring at the end
of the three month extension."
After selling Silfur Talsyn, Scott told someone he'd worked for
the same company that he'd run his million dollar advertising
campaign for. During the resulting media frenzy, he did an ad
for a credit card company.
Registering your own company in Gainesville Florida = $266
Website for three months = $27 Top Webpage Designer for one day
= $1 080 Giving away money to charities = $480 000
The company that used to employee you for minimum wage now
paying you $2,000,000= Priceless
About the author:
By Allan T. Price http:// www.m6.net Allan T. Price is a
creative writer working at M6.Net: 'The web-hosting company for
humans.' M6.Net is working hard to help humanity experience the
power and freedom to develop their own part of the Internet, to
share their information and connect with anyone, anywhere,
anytime.
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