“Thanks, but this is a business trip. Just a heads-up, I’m having all my mail forwarded here while I’m gone,” Avery said as got up to leave. “Pay the bills, throw out the ads, and save the coupons. I’ll reimburse you, obviously.”
“Sure you will.” The attorney rubbed his aching head. “Adios, amigo.” Mountain waved and drained his bottle while watching Avery exit his office. “Stay out of trouble,” he called out before violently vomiting in his trash can. “And get the Project Alpine money!” he shouted before ducking down and vomiting again.
• • •
After leaving his attorney’s office, Avery sneaked along for several blocks before finding what he was looking for. Approaching a postbox at the corner of a busy intersection, he looked left and right to make sure he wasn’t being watched before dropping a letter into it.
• • •
To: Loan Department
7th National Bank of Austin
Dear Money Lenders:
I’m writing to express my desire for a small business loan. I’ve closely reviewed your institution’s loan forms and documents, and have found them cumbersome, redundant, and completely useless. Personal information is called “personal” for a reason. I’m sure you understand. Please accept this correspondence as a more than capable replacement. For the time being, I cannot divulge the entirety of my business plan for competitive reasons. The global business markets are savagely cutthroat. Secrecy is the devastatingly long lever of the first mover’s advantage.
Executive Summary:
Give me ten million U.S. dollars immediately.
Top Secret Plan Overview (that can be revealed at this time):
Question: What are America’s two favorite snacks? Answer: Mountain Dew and pork rinds. Curiously enough, no one has ever considered combining the two. Well, the time has come, and I plan to dominate the world’s market for Mountain Dew–flavored pork rinds. Of course, I could just directly approach the manufacturer of Mountain Dew with this dazzling concept, but I’m looking to maximize my personal fortune by going it alone. Besides, it would deprive your institution the opportunity to be involved in financing this groundbreaking concept from its infancy. Trademarks and copyrights obviously prevent me from using the Mountain Dew name in my project, so I’ve developed an alternative concept: Alpine Condensation. But my marketing genius only starts there. Alpine Condensation Pork Rinds will be marketed through a partnership with a well-known hip hop performer. My preference is for someone who has spent time incarcerated. It’s essential for the product to have some street cred with the kids. Now, it may be difficult to find a rapper who has actually gone to jail, but I’m trying. If I can’t find one, I’ll hire a suitable entertainer and compensate them with discount coupons for future product purchases for time spent behind bars on trumped-up charges. Preferably drug charges. The target market for Alpine Condensation is the late-night snack consumer returning home from the club. Nothing refreshes like a bag full of crispy, salty, sweet, tangy, caffeine-loaded pork rinds after a long night of dancing and partying. The product can also be marketed to athletes, as pork rinds are naturally rich in protein. Can you envision the Stanley Cup or Claret Jug filled to the brim with Alpine Condensation Pork Rinds? I can. But we have to move fast! The genius of this plan is in its simplicity. It’s only a matter of time before someone stumbles onto to it. Production plans for the product are simple. First, I’m going to need pigskin, and lots of it. Fortunately, China is one of the world’s largest producers of pork. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Quality. Yes, the U.S. and the Dutch raise a higher quality of pork, but we’re talking about skin here. Ribs and chops are not of concern. Cheap Chinese pigskin it is. Second, I’ll need to hire the services of a team of ninjas to break in and steal the secret formula for Mountain Dew. I already have a team picked out and training in the Gobi Desert. Third, I’ll require access to the massive facilities at Analytical Food Laboratories in Grand Prairie. There I will create a crystallized version of the flavoring agent for my pork rinds. I refuse to allow them to do the testing themselves, as someone may figure out where I’m headed with my analysis. We will need to pay them to shut down and send the staff home for several days. There you have it. Three easy steps, and the food invention of the century will rise from the ashes of defeated snack manufacturers from around the planet. Consequently, Alpine Condensation’s packaging will prominently feature a flaming phoenix rising from the ashes of defeated snack manufactures from around the planet. In order to maximize profits for myself, corporate staff will be kept to a minimum. I will assume the duties of Chairman and CEO, while my compatriot Ziggy will serve as a board member. It’s always a good idea to keep some deadwood on your staff in case the economy turns and you have to lay someone off. As a financial institution, you should keep that in mind. While the sole intention of my project is to create mind-boggling wealth for myself, I am aware of the backlash in this country regarding disproportionate financial excess. Therefore, in an act of goodwill, I will reach out to the world’s humanitarian community. Because of the incredibly long shelf life of pork rinds, they are perfect for humanitarian aid. I will offer global aid groups a two-percent discount on purchases, but only for bulk orders, and payment must clear before shipping. I’m currently busy with an outstanding research project that has me traveling internationally. Please hold all loan committee questions until after product launch. Please mail the check for ten million dollars to my attorney. His name is Gregory Kennesaw Mountain. He’s in the book.
Sincerely,
Avery Bartholomew Pendleton
Chairman and CEO, Alpine Condensation Pork Products
• • •
After another thirty minutes of weaving through town, constantly watching his six for secret agents, Avery arrived at a quirky maroon-colored house. The multicolored sign out front identified the old Victorian house as The Magic Man’s Curio Shop and Bookstore. The “Magic Man” was in fact Ziggy. Avery flipped the CLOSED sign on the front door to OPEN before barging in.
“Hey, you freaky little lizard, where are you?” he bellowed.
“Like, right here, man,” Ziggy replied. He was perched like a small monkey on the top of a tall ladder in the corner of the main room.
“What the hell are doing up there?”
“Checking out the feng shui, dude.”
“What for, no one ever comes in here anyway.”
“Like, I know, man. I’m thinking I’ve got my candles, like, too close to the incense. Bad energy. If I, like, rearrange them some, it might help business.”
“I doubt it. Face the facts. You’re the owner of a head shop in Austin and still can’t make a decent living. Fifty thousand college students right around the corner, and yet you still can’t manage to sell a single bong. The problem is deeper than your product placement.”
“Hey, man,” said Ziggy as he crawled down from his perch. “I sell books and stuff, too, you know.”
“Sell or collect?”
“Well, like I said, man, it’s been pretty slow lately. Can you help me move this table with, like, all the candles on it? I think right over there will do it.”
“Absolutely not. I need to use your phone,” Avery said as he headed to the cash register.
“Like, what happened to your cell phone, man?”
“It self-actualized…err…it was executed…err…it’s a long story.”
“Okay, but, like, no long distance calls, man.”
“Don’t worry — it’s an in-state call.”
“Okay, that’s cool, dude.”