Pitch

“Listen, it's the kind of opportunity you can't afford to pass up. Especially in this economic climate.”

I had found my way into his office through a job posting. I had completely lied about my qualifications and cooked up some phony back story with a nice cover letter. Now I was in.

The job didn't interest me in the least. Marketing executive. Yuck. I've had a lot of jobs where I got my hands dirty but I always stayed away from the sort of job that dirties the soul. Marketing, advertising, promotions, these people are even worse than lawyers. Every so often a lawyer can do something noble. In rare cases they don't even expect to get paid for it. The marketing department is all about money. Just money.

“Now I considered pitching this idea to Stihl, but I thought, why go for second best. Go straight to the top. Go to the number one in the business.”

He looked confused. I don't blame him. He had expected a qualified individual seeking employment in the marketing department of a multinational that was a leading manufacturer of equipment, accessories and replacement parts for the global forestry, garden and construction industries. The sort of people who get excited about such positions are some of the most boring individuals you could ever have the misfortune of getting trapped in an elevator with. Such as the man before me now. Dress slacks, neatly creased. Sport coat hung on a hook behind the door. Tie, dark blue. You may have expected red, but don't forget that this man considered himself one of the creative types in this industrial environment. Red, while representing his voting habits, would have clashed horribly with the pink dress shirt he wore to prove to the world that he could think outside the box. Arms obviously toned from practicing his golf swing while his belly showed he enjoyed a few beers while riding the range in his little electric cart. I hated him.

“Your company is missing out on the latest trend. You have to step up before the competition beats you to it. The recreational industry has been doing it for years. So has the food and beverage industry. Just recently the automotive industry jumped in. Forestry and gardening equipment could be next. You can either be the leader and set the pace, or pick up the crumbs left by whoever gets with it and does this first.”

The thin lips on a well fed face attached to a head shaved in denial of the male pattern baldness started to open. I cut him off.

“Product placement. That's what it's all about. Coke and Pepsi have been doing it for years. General Motors provided major funding for a couple of special effects extravaganzas that made it huge in the box office just so the audience would walk out thinking about their cars. Ford had to play catch-up and unsuccessfully tried to bring back Knight Rider, only this time featuring a Mustang. Bad idea because the show initially featured a GM product. You don't want to find yourself like them, picking up the pieces when your competition gets the jump.”

Fear. It showed blatantly on his face, his lower lip nearly quivering as it dropped slack.

“But your in luck. GM and Ford have had to spend millions on high budget special effects. But you, you've got power equipment. You know what that means?”

A sound started to escape his lips. It may have been a question forming, or a statement. It didn't matter because I cut him off.

“Zombies. Cheapest form of entertainment around. Instead of spending all of your money on eye popping special effects, all you need is some white make-up, a few buckets of fake blood, and your power tools to save the day. You'll have people who live in apartments rushing out to the local hardware store to buy one of your chain saws, just like in the movie. We could write the script so all the indoor scenes take place in a factory. You can save money by shooting on your own locations using props you've already got lying around. Imagine it, an entire film based around your product line. No competitors in sight. Some ordinary people, people just like your customers, fend off an entire army of zombies using nothing but things that have your logos on them. You can shoot it for next to nothing and your product recognition will go through the roof. You'll be the saviors of a zombie infested town just like the towns your customers live in.”

Reaching into my vest pocket I produced two big, fat Hoyo de Monterrey cigars. He looked at it quizzically and then accepted. I knew he would. They always do. I stuck the other one in my mouth, chomped down on it, and threw my rattlesnake skin cowboy boots up on his desk. I struck a stick match and, before he could stammer something about no smoking inside, puffed up a cloud of sweet smoke and threw the box of stick matches onto his desk.

“I've got an Emmy award winning cinematographer ready to shoot.”

True. He was a cameraman on some wretched little daytime filth when it won an Emmy, so he got one.

“And I've got a prime time actress lined up.”

She had appeared in a non-speaking role as a background secretary for one season of a show that lasted two. Beautiful face, cute butt, could lift a weed whacker no problem.

“The writer is a total pro.”

He wrote one Taco Bell commercial and the check kept him from starving to death for a year while he tried to find his next gig.

“You wanted a new marketing director, I'm giving you a whole new marketing direction. I am offering you an unprecedented expansion of market share.”

And hopefully making a movie with some friends along the way. We'll take these bastards for as much as we can milk out of them.

“I think you'd make a great extra.”

I'd personally love to gut you like the wretched walking dead you really are.

He held the fine cigar under his nose and inhaled. The bald bastard popped the cigar into his mouth and picked up the matches I had thrown on his desk. The box slid open and he removed a match.

“I take it we've struck a deal?”

I looked into eyes staring back at me. Just a moment, a brief pause, and then the match was struck.

“Good.”