It was expected that the answer to how one gets through the meeting would be at the bottom of the coffee mug. However, the bottom offered no advice and in turn left behind granular residue that smelled nothing like coffee.
It was quite a verbose morning where everything that was being discussed brought with it more thoughts than it needed to, most of which were spewing out of the many mouths around the table. The women, in their tan coloured stockings and cherry red lips, continued to drone on about how advertising their products with a little pink somewhere appealed to pre-teen girls with access to money. The men were outraged and tapped their expensive pens in opposition saying that this would alienate the little boys who would get bullied for buying pink things.
They took stereotypical breaks where the women walked down long winding hallways to mirrored bathrooms and the men stood outside in circles smoking. It was strange that not a single man went to the bathroom to wash up or a woman in heels stepped out for a quick puff. That being said, it obviously also didn’t bode well for people in support of gender neutral opinions that this group of people held to their chests their pinks and non-pinks debates.
The product, seen on long banners around the office, was an energy drink for children which a lot of people thought would be a bust because no sane parent would want their children to have more energy than they already did, which in itself was a task to handle. They called it Mr. Champ or another such name that tried as hard and decided that the advertisement would have a child jumping off a dive-board at a swimming pool only to start flying mid-air thanks to all the newfound energy. They tried variations with the child being a girl and the swimming pool being a meadow with butterflies and the diving board being a swing set. The variations, although a little too ridiculous, were discussed anyway so as to give everyone’s idea a chance. In the end, over elaborate lunches, it was decided that the child would be a robot with a pink laser beaming out of his forehead.
The day ended like it started, with machine coffee and longwinded thoughts, with logic faltering a little bit. They deemed it a productive process and congratulated one another with sappy lines and over-used adjectives. The men offered to drop the women home but they said they would drive back themselves.
Meanwhile, children everywhere made mental notes to not buy anything unless it came with a free toy and thus pre-empted the death of the robot child that drank energy drinks but offered no freebies.
It was quite a verbose morning where everything that was being discussed brought with it more thoughts than it needed to, most of which were spewing out of the many mouths around the table. The women, in their tan coloured stockings and cherry red lips, continued to drone on about how advertising their products with a little pink somewhere appealed to pre-teen girls with access to money. The men were outraged and tapped their expensive pens in opposition saying that this would alienate the little boys who would get bullied for buying pink things.
They took stereotypical breaks where the women walked down long winding hallways to mirrored bathrooms and the men stood outside in circles smoking. It was strange that not a single man went to the bathroom to wash up or a woman in heels stepped out for a quick puff. That being said, it obviously also didn’t bode well for people in support of gender neutral opinions that this group of people held to their chests their pinks and non-pinks debates.
The product, seen on long banners around the office, was an energy drink for children which a lot of people thought would be a bust because no sane parent would want their children to have more energy than they already did, which in itself was a task to handle. They called it Mr. Champ or another such name that tried as hard and decided that the advertisement would have a child jumping off a dive-board at a swimming pool only to start flying mid-air thanks to all the newfound energy. They tried variations with the child being a girl and the swimming pool being a meadow with butterflies and the diving board being a swing set. The variations, although a little too ridiculous, were discussed anyway so as to give everyone’s idea a chance. In the end, over elaborate lunches, it was decided that the child would be a robot with a pink laser beaming out of his forehead.
The day ended like it started, with machine coffee and longwinded thoughts, with logic faltering a little bit. They deemed it a productive process and congratulated one another with sappy lines and over-used adjectives. The men offered to drop the women home but they said they would drive back themselves.
Meanwhile, children everywhere made mental notes to not buy anything unless it came with a free toy and thus pre-empted the death of the robot child that drank energy drinks but offered no freebies.
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