Previous episode: The Copywriting Petting-Zoo
After you hit your time-travel remote, you find yourself standing in a jungle.
You correctly surmise that this is the copywriting island where my lab is located.
For some reason, your stupid time-travel remote has landed you somewhere else on the island again.
“Got to get Daniel to give me a new one of these,” you mumble to yourself, shoving the remote into your pocket.
You look around, but you don’t recognise any landmarks …
So you start walking through the oddly-coloured trees.
As you trudge, strange noises and screeches echo from the distance. Above you, a shadow whips past through the tree canopy.
You come up to a thick tangle of vines and leaves.
You push them aside, and …
… find yourself staring at a large clearing in the middle of the jungle.
You step into it cautiously and look around.
“Hello?” you call out. “Daniel? Are you there?”
… no answer.
You walk into the middle of the clearing.
“Heh,” you chuckle. “Almost reminds me of one of those video game boss battles—”
Then you freeze.
Was that … a noise behind you?
The hair on your neck stands up
as you spin around …
… to see a little hamster, hissing at you.
You stare for a second … then burst out laughing.
“So THIS is the ‘copywriting hamster’ Daniel was warning me about?” you laugh to yourself. “Ha! As if I have anything to worry about with THAT!”
The hamster lunges at your shoe and bites it.
“Shoo, ya little pest!” you say, kicking it away.
The little hamster goes flying off into some distant bushes.
You smirk and turn to leave, when—
A deafening screech echoes through the clearing.
Your blood goes cold for a second.
You turn around again …
… and see a GIANT hamster standing where you just kicked the little hamster.
And … he looks mad.
You swallow. “I, uh … your little friend there … it was an accident, I swear …”
The giant hamster takes a few steps towards you, rattling the ground as it steps.
Oh … dear.
Then, it opens its mouth … and with frightening speed, starts bounding towards you.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
You turn to run — but your foot catches a root and you fall over. You look back desperately, to see the giant hamster bearing down on you.
And you realise …
You’re not going to make it.
“DAAANIEEELLLL!!!!” you cry to the heavens. “WHY DID YOU DRAG ME INTO THIS HORRIBLE PARALLEL WORLD!”
You close your eyes and wait for the end.
And then, just as the hamster is about to devour you …
ya big furry cretin!”
A voice rings out across the clearing.
You open one eye …
… to see me standing there with my Email Copywriting Compendium shotgun trained on the giant hamster’s chest.
I step forward slowly, gun raised, and call out to the hamster:
“Why don’t you back away from my little friend there … before you start looking like Swiss cheese.”
In response … the hamster hisses and bares its teeth.
I chamber a round …
Raise the shotgun …
And squeeze the—
Before I can fire, your shout stops me.
You rise to your feet, dusting yourself off.
And then, in an act of valour (or utter stupidity, depending on how you look at it) …
You step in front of the hamster, shielding it with your own body.
(It’s hard to tell who’s more stunned … me or the hamster.)
“Why does violence always have to be your answer?” you plead. “Why do you always have to kill everything on this island?”
I cock my head.
“Not sure if you’ve twigged yet, but … that thing was trying to eat you.”
“SO?!?” you scream. “It’s an animal! It doesn’t know any better! But we do, you and I. We know better. And I believe that love and respect are FAR more powerful weapons than bullets or bombs. Just like copywriters shouldn’t use negative emotions like fear and shame to sell … we don’t need to use violence to solve our problems.”
You turn to face the hamster.
After hearing you defend it … its fierce looks have softened.
It almost looks like it’s smiling at you … if that’s even possible?
Gingerly, you reach out to pet it …
… and it gently sniffs your hand.
For a moment, you share a special bond with the giant beast.
You smile and turn back to me.
“See? I told you we could find—”
Your eyes go wide.
You turn back to the hamster …
… and see it busily eating your right forearm, which it just bit off.
You bring your arm to your face.
Blood spurts out of the messy stump.
You blink once …
You blink twice …
… then you shriek:
“AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!! KILL IT! KILL IT NOWWWWWW!!!”
You run over to me … grab my shotgun … and with your remaining arm, blast the hamster. BOOM!
The giant hamster squeaks as it goes flying into the air … and lands with a thud hundreds of feet away in the forest.
Then … you sit down, clutching your stump of an arm, and begin rocking back and forth.
I roll my eyes and sigh …
… then cup my hands to my mouth and call:
“No need to shout like that,” says a female voice behind me. “I’m here.”
I spin around, startled…
…and see my wife, Hayley, standing there.
Luckily for you … my wife is an actual IRL doctor. (Mostly works in mental health, but she does have some ED experience … both of which are handy on this insane, deadly island.)
She purses her lips as she looks at your amputated arm.
“Looks pretty nasty,” she says. “Hamster?”
She kneels down to take a look at it.
And then, after a flurry of bandages and stitches … she steps back.
“There you go!” she says.
Your arm is back…
good as new!
“Wait!” I protest. “You can’t just … cure people like that! Us copywriters have things like FDA regulations to worry about! I might get sued for selling miracle cures!“
Hayley shrugs. “I’m not a copywriter,” she says. “I’m a doctor.”
Then with a kiss on my cheek … she disappears back into the forest.
I lay a hand on your head as you sit there, stunned.
“Fear and shame work great for selling … and guns work great for giant monsters. Both valuable lessons you should remember.”
And then … I turn to leave.
“Let’s get moving,” I snap, striding back into the forest. “We need to get back to the lab. And on the way, I need to warn you about those copywriting hamsters I was telling you about in my email.”
“Warn me?” you say, running to catch up. “Are … are you kidding? Too late! One of them nearly just killed me!”
I look across at you with a smirk.
“THAT? That wasn’t a copywriting hamster,” I say. “That was merely a giga-hamster.”
“A … giga-hamster?”
“That’s right … a giga-hamster. Large? Yes. Violent? Yes. But deadly to your copywriting career? Not at all.”
I turn up my chin and chuckle knowingly.
“Hah, to think that you thought that thing had anything to do with copywriting. Come on, let me tell you about copywriting hamsters …”