(unreleased material from "GLORIFIED DISASTERS" by Ashley Strand)
You ever try to imagine the pitch meeting where a really bad idea was born?
“Hey, it’s flu season, it’s the holidays, the city is suffering from a surfeit of dangerous contagion and sweaty, sniffling, disoriented tourists … What if … just what if … we could create a central hub where they could all shit at the same time?!? Just hear me out! Listen, I know there’s a drug-resistant, superbug, staphylococcus infection grabbing hold out there, I know there’s a new strain of the common cold that’s killing people, sure TB, syphilis, and bedbugs are all making a comeback; but what if, just what if, we could find a way to get a sample of every strain of each of those from every corner of the planet and have hundreds of thousands of hosts deposit them all on the same 20 toilet seats? What if we could create a Charmin Super-Public Restroom Palace in Times Square, and get every bus-load of snot-nosed Kansas City debate team pukes to crap, every boat-load of Avian Flu infested Chinese businessmen to dump, every plane-load of chemo-weakened, colostomy-bag-toting senior citizens to squeeze out their brown gold, what if we could get every gaggle of wobbling, warbling, diarrhea-stricken, STD-riddled, Port Authority trannies to hike their skirts, squat and spray into the same 20 shitters -- just what if we could do that?!? Who wouldn’t want to take a shit there?”
Some version of this pitch was in fact endorsed by the top brass at Charmin. And they say corporations have limited imaginations because all their decisions are ultimately fear-based. Stupid hippies!
