Post by Zack Fantana on Jan 15, 2017 22:38:14 GMT -5
It was another beautiful day in New York City with all the sights you could ever ask for on a winter morning: bright sun, blue skies, and four lanes of standstill traffic as far as the eye could see. Zack himself was treated to a front row seat to the bright yellow bumper sticker on the back of a black Jeep Wagoneer ahead of him. Though the message was nearly masked by the chalky stains from road salt that had been collected off the highway, Zack could make out the words as he edged closer to the vehicle. It read, "Caution: This vehicle makes frequent stops at your mom's house."
"That's lovely."
"What's that?", a woman's voice responded over the bluetooth system.
"Nothing. Just traffic."
The woman audibly scoffed.
"It's New York. What did you expect?"
Zack rolled his eyes as he stuffed a stick of gum into his mouth.
"Speaking of which, have you gotten a hold of Rico yet?"
"I only had his work number. The guy practically lived at that gym so that's all I ever needed."
A single honk kindly alerted Zack to the fact that traffic has moved forward, albeit it had moved all of four feet. Zack momentarily let off of the brake pedal for long enough to close the gap.
"I don't know what the guy is gonna do next. I wish I could help, you know? I practically owe him my career."
"Oh, honey, you don't have the kind of money for that."
"Mom, I'm making over thirteen grand a match now. I'm doing just fine."
"Sure, but only for the past month."
Fantana shook his head.
"How does everybody in my life know my financial situation?"
"Your cousin likes to talk."
She meant Harold, H&R Block's employee of the month for November 2016 and apparent Chatty Cathy.
"Note to self: never go into business with family."
"You don't really mean that."
Just as Zack was about to inform his mother that he really did mean it, someone laid on the horn in the lane beside him.
"You know who I saw on the television the other day? That Benny Stevens in an ad for the Bestripper Mall. Isn't he just a delight?"
"Mom, let's not get off track."
"I'm just saying, maybe you could follow his lead and get an endorsement deal. An extra bit of cash flow to help Rico keep the doors open."
Zack tightened his grip on the steering wheel, doing his best to resist the sudden urge to pull into a lane of oncoming traffic.
"Mom, I'm no shill. Besides, those ads always make Benny Stevens look like an incompetent infomercial person. You know, one of those people who can't change the channel on the TV without spilling a comically large bowl of Cheetos."
"Oh, come on, Zachary. Just look into it."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Anyway, they kept calling him the VCO. Can you tell me what that stands for?"
Zack nearly swallowed his gum.
"Zack?"
Fantana quickly collected a piece of paper off the dashboard and crumpled it in his hand near the microphone.
"Sorry mom, you're breaking up."
Fantana couldn't tap 'end call' fast enough. He made an illegal U-turn at the nearest break in traffic and sped off into the distance.
As the woman on the opposite side of the desk typed fervently at her computer between drags of her cigarette, Zack sat with his hands cupped on his lap. Underneath some signage that read 'Weisman Global', Zack thought he spied an autographed photo of Kenny G framed on the wall behind the desk, though through the plume of smoke, it could have just as easily been Rhea Perlman. Either way, it was mighty impressive to Zack. He stood up and squinted to try to get a better look, but just as Zack was about to crack this case wide open, the woman blew another puff of smoke out of her mouth that sent him reeling back into his seat.
"Fontana, right?"
"Fantana. It's Zack Fantana, ma'am."
Without looking away from the screen, the woman crumpled her lip and tapped the backspace key repeatedly.
"Is Nancy in today? She used to take care of me. We had a nice rapport."
The woman finally stopped typing and looked across the desk to Fantana.
"Nancy Burns?"
"That's the one."
Fantana smiled. Finally he was getting somewhere.
"She died three months ago."
"Oh..."
That explained how all of those letters from someone named Fuckboy Furuya had been creeping into Zack's mailbox long after Zack had explicitly informed Nancy to toss them in the incinerator.
The woman returned to clacking away at the keyboard with her Nicotine-stained fingers, while Fantana shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
The woman shrugged.
"I never knew her, just heard stories. I only started working here about a month back. So Fontana, right?"
"Fantana, with an 'a'."
Hadn't she just typed it? What was she doing with her fingers?
Fantana looked around the office for any sign of life, but every other office door is closed.
"Is there anyone else in the office that I can speak to?"
"Afraid not. Everyone's booked up, but I'm certain I can find something that suits you."
She looked Fantana up and down and clasped her hands.
"What are your thoughts on Nasonex?"
"I... don't have asthma."
"But what if you did?"
"But I don't."
"But what if you did, hmm?"
She took a slow drag of her cigarette.
"Seems disingenuous."
"Pardon me, Mr. Fontana--"
"Fantana."
"I think you have the wrong idea of what an endorsement is. You see, advertisements aren't so much about truthfulness as..."
The woman bobbed her head as she searched for the word, before leaning in toward Zack.
"...truthiness. Do you understand?"
Zack, too, leaned forward and whispered.
"I do not."
"Well, you see, it's not so much about being factual as..."
Once again, she bobbed her head before leaning forward.
"...appearing to be factual."
Zack followed suit.
"Well, I think I've seen enough."
Zack quickly rose from his chair and sprung toward the door.
"Don't forget your complimentary Weisman Global gift bag, Mr. Fontana."
Fantana rifled through his complimentary Weisman Global gift bag and plucked from it a Weisman Global bumper sticker. He gave it a once over before tossing it into the nearest trash can.
"I've never been one to fly another man's flag. Call it skepticism, call it self-serving, call it whatever you want, but it really comes down to one thing to me. It's about accountability. At the end of the day, I want my failures to be my own and God knows that I want my successes to be the same."
Zack held the Weisman Global bag up into the air and briefly considered pocketing it before throwing the entire bag in the trash can.
"A lot of people in this business like to surround themselves with yes men. They love the feeling of having smoke blown up their ass. James Radford, you're a little bit different from the pack. You don't surround yourself with yes men, because you've become the yes man. Why would I say such a thing? Allow me to explain."
With a half-smirk, Zack descends a set of steps towards the camera.
"Do you want to know why I was selected as the CEO's representative at Executive Action and you weren't, Radford? Because men like me lead and men like you follow. We needn't look back much further than the past month to see the evidence. These scandals involving your last several matches in the Alpha Cup tournament have certainly raised a lot of questions about you, Radford. Questions such as: 'Did Benson collude with Storms to get Radford the victory?', 'Did Radford know about it?', and 'Does Radford even deserve to be in the semi-finals of the Alpha Cup tournament?'"
A wry smile crossed Fantana's lips as he continued walking down the sidewalk.
"But the question I want answered most of all is... who is James Radford? Is he the good old boy he makes himself out to be or is he simply a personality that Bobby Benson and his marketing team created in an office boardroom to tap into key demographics?
Hell, James, I have to wonder why I'm even asking you these questions. Everybody knows that any word coming out of your mouth has been filtered through the brain of Bobby Benson before it reaches their television screens. I might as well go straight to the source and talk directly to Benson, because he's clearly the one driving the bus here. You're a captive audience to your own career."
Finally arriving at his Lincoln MKZ, Zack jingled his key ring in his hand.
"Benson, it seems to me that you don't have as much faith in your client as he does in you. I can't say I blame you after all of the losses he's compiled over the course of his career, but he's finally begun to come to life in AWE and you've cut him off at the knees.
It's funny. You've been trying to craft James Radford into this money-making entity and you ended up stripping him of all his respectable qualities. See, people love an underdog success story because they need to believe that hard-work and effort means something. They need to believe that the everyman stands a chance in this life and they want an exemplar of that blue collar work ethic to point to when things turn bleak.
People want that underdog story to be a beacon for hope in their life - a reason to believe that 'if I just try hard enough, if I just pull up my boot straps, if I keep my nose to the grindstone, well dadgum, I could be a success too'. Of course, most of them will never put forth that effort, but for some reason the thought that it is possible is comforting to them.
Enter James Radford, a five year veteran in this business still striving for a career-validating victory. That's a ready-made underdog story if there ever was one. Radford walked into the AWE and collected two wins straight off the bat. It looked as if his career had finally turned a corner. But then he came up short in a number one contendership match against Dom DiBona. Oh well, shit happens, right? James will pull through. After all, one loss is nothing to James Radford. He's faced this kind of adversity over and over again in his career and he still managed to make a name for himself. One would think that with the two prior wins, you could afford to cut him some slack, but after Massacre #3, you showed how short Radford's leash really was. One loss and he lost your faith. One loss and you no longer trust him to get the job done. Because an underdog sells merchandise but a loser doesn't. Isn't that right, Benson? So that's when you decide to take matters into your own hands.
And that's where your marketing scheme all came crashing down.
As I said, people love an underdog story. What they don't love is an unworthy contender and that's who you turned James Radford into in the last two fights. James Radford is no longer the underdog story of the AWE, but just another hack that couldn't get the job done on his own. But I'll tell you what, Benson, I'm about to do the James Radford brand a giant favor. I'm going to clown Radford in the ring so badly that no one is even going to talk about that Hunter Storms scandal anymore. "
Zack hit the button on the key fob to unlock the car before cracking the door open.
"Things will all be back on track for the brand soon enough, because James Radford will once again be the underdog that the people desperately need."
Fantana gave the camera a wink and then climbed into the MKZ, slamming the door shut.
"That's lovely."
"What's that?", a woman's voice responded over the bluetooth system.
"Nothing. Just traffic."
The woman audibly scoffed.
"It's New York. What did you expect?"
Zack rolled his eyes as he stuffed a stick of gum into his mouth.
"Speaking of which, have you gotten a hold of Rico yet?"
"I only had his work number. The guy practically lived at that gym so that's all I ever needed."
A single honk kindly alerted Zack to the fact that traffic has moved forward, albeit it had moved all of four feet. Zack momentarily let off of the brake pedal for long enough to close the gap.
"I don't know what the guy is gonna do next. I wish I could help, you know? I practically owe him my career."
"Oh, honey, you don't have the kind of money for that."
"Mom, I'm making over thirteen grand a match now. I'm doing just fine."
"Sure, but only for the past month."
Fantana shook his head.
"How does everybody in my life know my financial situation?"
"Your cousin likes to talk."
She meant Harold, H&R Block's employee of the month for November 2016 and apparent Chatty Cathy.
"Note to self: never go into business with family."
"You don't really mean that."
Just as Zack was about to inform his mother that he really did mean it, someone laid on the horn in the lane beside him.
"You know who I saw on the television the other day? That Benny Stevens in an ad for the Bestripper Mall. Isn't he just a delight?"
"Mom, let's not get off track."
"I'm just saying, maybe you could follow his lead and get an endorsement deal. An extra bit of cash flow to help Rico keep the doors open."
Zack tightened his grip on the steering wheel, doing his best to resist the sudden urge to pull into a lane of oncoming traffic.
"Mom, I'm no shill. Besides, those ads always make Benny Stevens look like an incompetent infomercial person. You know, one of those people who can't change the channel on the TV without spilling a comically large bowl of Cheetos."
"Oh, come on, Zachary. Just look into it."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Anyway, they kept calling him the VCO. Can you tell me what that stands for?"
Zack nearly swallowed his gum.
"Zack?"
Fantana quickly collected a piece of paper off the dashboard and crumpled it in his hand near the microphone.
"Sorry mom, you're breaking up."
Fantana couldn't tap 'end call' fast enough. He made an illegal U-turn at the nearest break in traffic and sped off into the distance.
As the woman on the opposite side of the desk typed fervently at her computer between drags of her cigarette, Zack sat with his hands cupped on his lap. Underneath some signage that read 'Weisman Global', Zack thought he spied an autographed photo of Kenny G framed on the wall behind the desk, though through the plume of smoke, it could have just as easily been Rhea Perlman. Either way, it was mighty impressive to Zack. He stood up and squinted to try to get a better look, but just as Zack was about to crack this case wide open, the woman blew another puff of smoke out of her mouth that sent him reeling back into his seat.
"Fontana, right?"
"Fantana. It's Zack Fantana, ma'am."
Without looking away from the screen, the woman crumpled her lip and tapped the backspace key repeatedly.
"Is Nancy in today? She used to take care of me. We had a nice rapport."
The woman finally stopped typing and looked across the desk to Fantana.
"Nancy Burns?"
"That's the one."
Fantana smiled. Finally he was getting somewhere.
"She died three months ago."
"Oh..."
That explained how all of those letters from someone named Fuckboy Furuya had been creeping into Zack's mailbox long after Zack had explicitly informed Nancy to toss them in the incinerator.
The woman returned to clacking away at the keyboard with her Nicotine-stained fingers, while Fantana shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
The woman shrugged.
"I never knew her, just heard stories. I only started working here about a month back. So Fontana, right?"
"Fantana, with an 'a'."
Hadn't she just typed it? What was she doing with her fingers?
Fantana looked around the office for any sign of life, but every other office door is closed.
"Is there anyone else in the office that I can speak to?"
"Afraid not. Everyone's booked up, but I'm certain I can find something that suits you."
She looked Fantana up and down and clasped her hands.
"What are your thoughts on Nasonex?"
"I... don't have asthma."
"But what if you did?"
"But I don't."
"But what if you did, hmm?"
She took a slow drag of her cigarette.
"Seems disingenuous."
"Pardon me, Mr. Fontana--"
"Fantana."
"I think you have the wrong idea of what an endorsement is. You see, advertisements aren't so much about truthfulness as..."
The woman bobbed her head as she searched for the word, before leaning in toward Zack.
"...truthiness. Do you understand?"
Zack, too, leaned forward and whispered.
"I do not."
"Well, you see, it's not so much about being factual as..."
Once again, she bobbed her head before leaning forward.
"...appearing to be factual."
Zack followed suit.
"Well, I think I've seen enough."
Zack quickly rose from his chair and sprung toward the door.
"Don't forget your complimentary Weisman Global gift bag, Mr. Fontana."
Fantana rifled through his complimentary Weisman Global gift bag and plucked from it a Weisman Global bumper sticker. He gave it a once over before tossing it into the nearest trash can.
"I've never been one to fly another man's flag. Call it skepticism, call it self-serving, call it whatever you want, but it really comes down to one thing to me. It's about accountability. At the end of the day, I want my failures to be my own and God knows that I want my successes to be the same."
Zack held the Weisman Global bag up into the air and briefly considered pocketing it before throwing the entire bag in the trash can.
"A lot of people in this business like to surround themselves with yes men. They love the feeling of having smoke blown up their ass. James Radford, you're a little bit different from the pack. You don't surround yourself with yes men, because you've become the yes man. Why would I say such a thing? Allow me to explain."
With a half-smirk, Zack descends a set of steps towards the camera.
"Do you want to know why I was selected as the CEO's representative at Executive Action and you weren't, Radford? Because men like me lead and men like you follow. We needn't look back much further than the past month to see the evidence. These scandals involving your last several matches in the Alpha Cup tournament have certainly raised a lot of questions about you, Radford. Questions such as: 'Did Benson collude with Storms to get Radford the victory?', 'Did Radford know about it?', and 'Does Radford even deserve to be in the semi-finals of the Alpha Cup tournament?'"
A wry smile crossed Fantana's lips as he continued walking down the sidewalk.
"But the question I want answered most of all is... who is James Radford? Is he the good old boy he makes himself out to be or is he simply a personality that Bobby Benson and his marketing team created in an office boardroom to tap into key demographics?
Hell, James, I have to wonder why I'm even asking you these questions. Everybody knows that any word coming out of your mouth has been filtered through the brain of Bobby Benson before it reaches their television screens. I might as well go straight to the source and talk directly to Benson, because he's clearly the one driving the bus here. You're a captive audience to your own career."
Finally arriving at his Lincoln MKZ, Zack jingled his key ring in his hand.
"Benson, it seems to me that you don't have as much faith in your client as he does in you. I can't say I blame you after all of the losses he's compiled over the course of his career, but he's finally begun to come to life in AWE and you've cut him off at the knees.
It's funny. You've been trying to craft James Radford into this money-making entity and you ended up stripping him of all his respectable qualities. See, people love an underdog success story because they need to believe that hard-work and effort means something. They need to believe that the everyman stands a chance in this life and they want an exemplar of that blue collar work ethic to point to when things turn bleak.
People want that underdog story to be a beacon for hope in their life - a reason to believe that 'if I just try hard enough, if I just pull up my boot straps, if I keep my nose to the grindstone, well dadgum, I could be a success too'. Of course, most of them will never put forth that effort, but for some reason the thought that it is possible is comforting to them.
Enter James Radford, a five year veteran in this business still striving for a career-validating victory. That's a ready-made underdog story if there ever was one. Radford walked into the AWE and collected two wins straight off the bat. It looked as if his career had finally turned a corner. But then he came up short in a number one contendership match against Dom DiBona. Oh well, shit happens, right? James will pull through. After all, one loss is nothing to James Radford. He's faced this kind of adversity over and over again in his career and he still managed to make a name for himself. One would think that with the two prior wins, you could afford to cut him some slack, but after Massacre #3, you showed how short Radford's leash really was. One loss and he lost your faith. One loss and you no longer trust him to get the job done. Because an underdog sells merchandise but a loser doesn't. Isn't that right, Benson? So that's when you decide to take matters into your own hands.
And that's where your marketing scheme all came crashing down.
As I said, people love an underdog story. What they don't love is an unworthy contender and that's who you turned James Radford into in the last two fights. James Radford is no longer the underdog story of the AWE, but just another hack that couldn't get the job done on his own. But I'll tell you what, Benson, I'm about to do the James Radford brand a giant favor. I'm going to clown Radford in the ring so badly that no one is even going to talk about that Hunter Storms scandal anymore. "
Zack hit the button on the key fob to unlock the car before cracking the door open.
"Things will all be back on track for the brand soon enough, because James Radford will once again be the underdog that the people desperately need."
Fantana gave the camera a wink and then climbed into the MKZ, slamming the door shut.