31st Of February Read Online Free
find on the shores of Coromandel?”
“I know, I know,” said Reverton. “It’s funny. Maybe it isn’t the tgojumba tree; maybe it’s simply a laboratory product. We’ll have to know that – they mustn’t think they can do any wool-pulling with their advertising agents. But the important thing is that it works. You use it almost exactly as you use a brushless shaving cream – except that it’s razorless as well as brushless. Smear it on your face, leave it on for a minute, wipe it off, and your face is perfectly smooth and stays smooth the whole day.”
“No five-o’clock shadow?” said Wyvern.
“No five-o’clock shadow,” Reverton said solemnly. “That’s the product. Now, here’s the set-up as far as this agency is concerned. Manufacture is beginning in South Africa and it’s planned to market the product simultaneously here and over there. Negotiations are going on now in the States and on the Continent. Our first job is to suggest a name for the product. At present it’s just called Preparation Number One, but the name the manufacturing company suggests is Nu-Shave. Both VV and I think that stinks. Next, we’ve got to think how we’re going to handle a campaign, which may start by the end of this year. The sky’s the limit for the South African company, Multi-African Products, who’re making the stuff. We’ve got to decide where we’re going to pack our biggest punch. Press, cinema, posters – we’ve got a revolutionary product to advertise, and if we can find revolutionary means so much the better.” Reverton stuck his pipe back in his mouth, and then took it out again. “One more thing, Andy and JW, VV’s called this preliminary conference to start you thinking. He’ll handle the account from the creative side. I shall deal with administration. You’ll be responsible for copy ideas, Andy, and you, and JW for what comes out of the studio. Your boys are bound to know about it. Enthuse them, but tell them to keep it under their hats.” Reverton stuck his pipe back, apparently for good. VV swallowed the last of the green pills, got up and stood with his hands behind his back, staring at Anderson and Wyvern. “Any ideas, boys? How does it seem?”
Sucking his pipe, Reverton said delightedly: “Hold on now, VV; give the boys a chance to think.”
Anderson thought it was time he said something. “The end of this year means it’s not all that urgent.”
VV wheeled and confronted him, genial but admonitory. “It is urgent. I want it treated as urgent. I want the sparks to fly. I want creation, boys, and no damned nine months’ gestation, either.” Like a little dynamo he moved between the three seated figures.
Wyvern said in a discontented croak: “Does the stuff exist?”
Like a conjurer, Reverton produced from his pocket a small brownish jar, and passed it round. The label said PREPARATION NUMBER 1; the top screwed off to reveal a white paste. Wyvern and Anderson looked at it curiously, and then Anderson said: “Has anyone tried it?”
“This very morning.” Reverton tilted a perfectly smooth face for inspection, “Worked like a charm. On, off, beard gone.”
“Nu-Shave,” Anderson said thoughtfully. “You know, there could be worse names.”
“Or Razorless,” Wyvern suggested. “Might be something in Razorless:
Pa and grandpa both bless
The day they changed to Razorless.”
VV’s fist struck the desk. We’re in for it now, Anderson thought; he’s got a scheme hatched out already. The little figure behind the desk was bristling with annoyance, but when he spoke he was not annoyed, but histrionically grieved, humorously disappointed. “You’re not thinking right, boys.” The fist unclenched and cupped his chin. “This isn’t a product for humour. You don’t sell a revolution with humour.”
It’s foolish to contradict, it’s foolish to question, Anderson thought, as his foot moved to make circles and crosses in the air. But he wants just a
“I know, I know,” said Reverton. “It’s funny. Maybe it isn’t the tgojumba tree; maybe it’s simply a laboratory product. We’ll have to know that – they mustn’t think they can do any wool-pulling with their advertising agents. But the important thing is that it works. You use it almost exactly as you use a brushless shaving cream – except that it’s razorless as well as brushless. Smear it on your face, leave it on for a minute, wipe it off, and your face is perfectly smooth and stays smooth the whole day.”
“No five-o’clock shadow?” said Wyvern.
“No five-o’clock shadow,” Reverton said solemnly. “That’s the product. Now, here’s the set-up as far as this agency is concerned. Manufacture is beginning in South Africa and it’s planned to market the product simultaneously here and over there. Negotiations are going on now in the States and on the Continent. Our first job is to suggest a name for the product. At present it’s just called Preparation Number One, but the name the manufacturing company suggests is Nu-Shave. Both VV and I think that stinks. Next, we’ve got to think how we’re going to handle a campaign, which may start by the end of this year. The sky’s the limit for the South African company, Multi-African Products, who’re making the stuff. We’ve got to decide where we’re going to pack our biggest punch. Press, cinema, posters – we’ve got a revolutionary product to advertise, and if we can find revolutionary means so much the better.” Reverton stuck his pipe back in his mouth, and then took it out again. “One more thing, Andy and JW, VV’s called this preliminary conference to start you thinking. He’ll handle the account from the creative side. I shall deal with administration. You’ll be responsible for copy ideas, Andy, and you, and JW for what comes out of the studio. Your boys are bound to know about it. Enthuse them, but tell them to keep it under their hats.” Reverton stuck his pipe back, apparently for good. VV swallowed the last of the green pills, got up and stood with his hands behind his back, staring at Anderson and Wyvern. “Any ideas, boys? How does it seem?”
Sucking his pipe, Reverton said delightedly: “Hold on now, VV; give the boys a chance to think.”
Anderson thought it was time he said something. “The end of this year means it’s not all that urgent.”
VV wheeled and confronted him, genial but admonitory. “It is urgent. I want it treated as urgent. I want the sparks to fly. I want creation, boys, and no damned nine months’ gestation, either.” Like a little dynamo he moved between the three seated figures.
Wyvern said in a discontented croak: “Does the stuff exist?”
Like a conjurer, Reverton produced from his pocket a small brownish jar, and passed it round. The label said PREPARATION NUMBER 1; the top screwed off to reveal a white paste. Wyvern and Anderson looked at it curiously, and then Anderson said: “Has anyone tried it?”
“This very morning.” Reverton tilted a perfectly smooth face for inspection, “Worked like a charm. On, off, beard gone.”
“Nu-Shave,” Anderson said thoughtfully. “You know, there could be worse names.”
“Or Razorless,” Wyvern suggested. “Might be something in Razorless:
Pa and grandpa both bless
The day they changed to Razorless.”
VV’s fist struck the desk. We’re in for it now, Anderson thought; he’s got a scheme hatched out already. The little figure behind the desk was bristling with annoyance, but when he spoke he was not annoyed, but histrionically grieved, humorously disappointed. “You’re not thinking right, boys.” The fist unclenched and cupped his chin. “This isn’t a product for humour. You don’t sell a revolution with humour.”
It’s foolish to contradict, it’s foolish to question, Anderson thought, as his foot moved to make circles and crosses in the air. But he wants just a
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