Conversation · Idiot Doom Spiral

"Are you referring to... cocaine?"

Along with a number of more banal street names: Blow, of course, but also flake, powder, pearl. Really anything that's white will work.

Along with a number of more banal street names: Blow, of course, but also flake, powder, pearl. Really anything that's white will get the idea across.

He existed alright. You feel it deep within your basal ganglia. He was as real as you are...

"I can handle it."

Wait... There's no way... It can't be... or can it?

"A place to call home?"

"No, Tequila. Most people already know where they live. It's guys like you and me that are the exceptions..."

"Your lost keys?"

"Hey, HEY. Fuck you, Tequila," he says, his voice level.

"Cryptids?"

"Magic animals? No man, this is serious stuff..."

"You want my opinion on the re-conceptualization?"

"Yeah, two secs." He slurps from his bottle then wipes droplets from his beard with a sleeve. Satisfied, his stomach sends a muted eruption to his throat, where it turns into a damp growl.

"Right, let's hear you then. I put a lot of work into that project, Tequila, a lot of work. Had to bring back my hustle game and call in some old partners to pull it off. So, c'mon, tell me what I want to hear."

"It's good but the timing is unfortunate."

"What do you mean? The timing couldn't be better. The traffic through town will return now that the strike's over. Don't worry, I've thought about this."

"Let your Personal Brand Strategist handle the timing, alright? You just focus on telling me what you liked about my work up there."

What more could you want? He got your brand out there while giving back to the community. He hit the brief perfectly.

The utter genius of its design -- conveyed beautifully through his commitment to a singular aesthetic. He's gone above and beyond!

It's an image of you that will stand the test of time. People will remember this for an age.

Picking the right praise to give is just as important as picking the right critique. People shape themselves according to any and all feedback they get.

"I'm amazed you were able to do it so well and for so cheap."

"That's how I roll. Best results at a low cost. Isn't that what the business game is all about? Let me tell you -- it is! I'm its biggest and best player." He winks at you.

The wooden clack of bilboquet comes to a halt before the central structure of a roundabout. Awe whistles through the air as the onlooker takes in every angle. Eager eyes fill nearby windows, brought to the glass by the sound of the toy, but now also taking in the sight of the striking new installation.

"Bet you're glad you hired me as your Personal Brand Strategist now? So, what's next, boss?"

"Actually, I think you've done enough for me. I no longer need you."

"Good one, boss." He laughs weakly but stops when he realises you're being serious. "What -- really? That's it? You can't cut it short now. We're just getting started. At least give me an explanation."

"The market moves fast and with extreme casualty."

"Fine. You know what? Fuck it. You'll be back, Tequila. You wanna go -- you go. This isn't the end. I'm taking you all the way to the top."

He cracks open a bottle and sucks the bitter foam welling at the top. "Do you want anything else or can I concentrate on my drinking?"

"Calm down! I'm only yanking your leg. Of course I'm not firing you."

He freezes in his seat, motionless except his pupils, which quickly flick from side to side.

Is he reading a book about his life so far to figure out which reality he's in?

"Fucking hell, Tequila. Don't do that to me. I appreciate being kept on my toes, but man!" He shakes his head to straighten himself out.

"Let's just move on. Anything else you want from me?"

"Sure am! Not sure what's next yet but I know you'll nail it."

"You bet your ass I will. Tequila Sunset is just getting started. No one's ready for the shit we're going to pull." He beats his chest a couple of times. "Feels good to be back."

"Thanks for this, boss. Just what I needed. Is there anything else I can do for you right now?"

"This is an event. It's history -- people will remember this."

"Fuck yeah they will. Tequila Sunset is on the timeline. They'll be talking about you for years. The one and only."

"It's exactly the brand image I want to present to the public."

"I knew it! That's what you get when you hire me -- customer satisfaction guaranteed. Woo!"

"I've never seen marketing as inspired as that. It really is high concept!

"Didn't I tell you?" He turns to his drinking buddy. "I told him, didn't I? Several times. This is what I do."

"It doesn't quite meet my expectations."

"That's... disappointing. But, okay, I can work with that. I'm used to dealing with fussy clients and retrogressing from my highest concepts for them. Can't expect everyone to be on..." He points at himself with both thumbs. "...this level."

"Go on then, what exactly isn't doing it for you?" He wraps both hands around his bottle and leans forward, ready to listen.

It's bad PR and therefore bad for business. Tell him you don't want anything to do with it -- or him.

Be professional. He probably doesn't even know what happened to you, why the strike is over...

It's like he knows nothing about you. Stinks of a man doing what's best for him, not his clientele.

He dares to sit there in disbelief when you confront him about his own scam!

"Your timing is awful! People died over there, then you go and do that."

"What are you talking about? Who died? I think I would know if anyone had died over there. Would have heard something about it. There's no need to make up little stories, Tequila."

You wince as your injured leg throbs with fresh pain. The drunk doesn't notice.

Pretty sure you could dial up the melodrama to max and he still wouldn't figure it out.

Plastic bags heavy with tins and deformed vegetables swing from the fists of a young mother crossing a roundabout. Her mouth falls open as she looks up at the central structure. 'C'mere, Luc. Over here now, please,' she says to her curious toddler. The bags beat steady bruises into the mother's calves as she hurries him away.

"So where does this leave us? Do you still want me as your Personal Brand Strategist or what?"

"I do. I'm willing to give you another chance."

"Phew! Alright, you had me going there. I thought that was it for me -- back to rock bottom I go!" He lets out a nervous laugh.