Magic Potty Madness
What the hell. Seriously.
I have two ideas for books at the moment. One is a book of microwave-only meals for office workers. I got to “ranch-flavored frozen chicken breast with corn” and then realized most of the book would be [insert salad dressing] flavored [frozen meat chunk] with [vegetable], so I gave up. The other is a book called “Pitch Meetings I Wish I had Been Present For.”
“She Hulk” is on there, and “Cop Rock,” of course. Those meat-flavored Doritos. And Magic Potty Baby.
It would be easy to make fun of the person that thought a urine-shooting doll would be a good idea, the hapless mid-level manager who gathered a handful of sloppily gathered focus-group data stating without doubt that a pissing, grinning homonculous would be bigger than Elmo. (It’s the grin that’s most disturbing. I only smile that much when I’m taking a piss if a hooker is shoving a corn cob up my ass at the same time).
But mocking this suit is wrong, wrong, wrong. This guy was a God among suits. Imagine the moxy and showmanship it took to convince a roomful of captains of industry that sinking upwards of a million bucks developing a doll that did nothing but sit on a plastic toilet and piss was the best idea since peanut butter (chunky). This is a man to be feared. This man could convince you to invest in Magic Nursing Home Resident, fer fook’s sake. All Magic Nursing Home Resident does is weep fluid from her bedsores and complain bitterly about drafts.
What’s YOUR favorite pitch meeting? Discuss.
