"FWLS22" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

A Future We'd Like To See 1.22 - New and Improved
By Twoflower (Copyright 1993)

"Alright," the company executive said to the us. "We've
taken all 100 ideas for the new cologne's advertising, and
narrowed it down to you five artists. Keeping in mind that the
winning design and ad idea will receive a multimillion dollar
contract, we've decided we'll need to hear your ideas one last
time to finalize. You have five minutes to prepare."

"This is IT!" I whispered to the Murfle standing next to me.
"My big chance to make it in advertising. Excited?"

The Murfle stared at me as if I was from another planet
(which techically I was, as I had flown all the way to Tiberius 6
from Terra to make this audition). "Why bother getting excited?
I'm gonna win, after all. No reason to get all gooey at the
knees about it."

"Excuise me," the girl next to me with the inverse mowhawk
interjected. "But I must say that I think *I* have the best
chance of winning out of all of us. Y'see, I'm like an art major
and got a 4.0 every year, and the rest of you are just amateurs.
Like, no offense, 'kay?"

"Some taken," the Murfle grumbled, sitting back down. The
other two, one being some sort of stuffed shirt business suit and
the other a somewhat quiet Ytt with a nervous twitch, didn't
contribute to the conversation.

Actually, I stood a snowball's chance in hell at getting the
account. I had just graduated from a correspondence course in
advertising since I was sick of working as a Burger Inverting
Technician at the local McSpackle's, whereas these guys had full
educations. I guess it was just a matter of not embarassing
myself too much when my turn came.

"Alright," the lead executive said, as the other two flipped
to a new page on their clipboards. I scrutinized the suits.
Let's see... middle one is the powergamer, probably sucking up
for a job; play on his desire for a promotion... one of the left
looks like a radical feminist, so I'll have to watch the
terminology... third looks like a yes man. Best worry about the
other two.

"Mr. Kilby Jones?" the leader called. The stuffed shirt got
up, and shuffled to the center of the room, setting up an archaic
tripod and 2-D graph setup.

"My thesis is as follows," he begun in a tone similar to my