You look up from my latest email — which you made it through without unsubscribing — to find me smiling.
“You passed the snowflake test!” I say, closing the door. “Interestingly, 1% of people who get that email unsubscribe — which is higher than any other email, but pretty low all things considered. And … you’re not one of them!”
I turn away and chuckle knowingly to myself. “In other words … it looks like you don’t need to die a gruesome death today.”
“Huh?” you ask.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” I say. “That first time I kidnapped you, I injected a tracking chip that attracts the monsters on this island. The moment you step out the door it’s, you know …”
(I make a throat-cutting gesture with my finger across my neck.)
“So anyway. Glad you had the common sense to stick around even if you disagree with my views. I’ll win you over eventually,” I say. “Now, for that next email …”
I press a button on the wall.
VRRRRRRRR!
Suddenly, the walls of my lab lift away, to reveal a … stadium?
Thousands of screaming fans fill the seats.
Speakers pop up from holes in the ground, blaring rock music.
And over it all, you hear my voice booming through the PA system:
“Welcooooome …
to Copywriting Fight Cluuuuuub!”
I stride out, dressed as an M.C.
“Yes! Thank you, thank you! Today, ladies and gentlemen, I have a real treat for you. Twoooooo in-cred-ible fighters. Twoooooo legendary ad men. In a vicious, no-holds-barred cage match!”
(The crowd screams with excitement.)
You spot a vacant seat, and sit down.
Suddenly, the lights go dark.
And then—
(Story continues in your inbox)