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We have had a day that can only be done justice in the poetic words of Vincent – “bollock-bloating brilliant, pet.”

It started like all the others – appallingly. Having mislaid four LOVE girls we took carelessness to new heights by losing the last two. Sharon and Winona (Rides, would you credit?) succumbed to vicious attacks of botulism. I’ve lost count of the times I told them to steer clear of anything that looked as if it crawled along the seabed. As we gathered at breakfast a yardstick would have been too short to measure the long faces. But Brett and Vincent did me proud. After a couple of bacon rolls they sprang into action and plucked a new script from the ether. Let me describe it because it is their finest yet.

We open close up on the filthy tailgate of a truck. Bloke One (Vincent) walks into shot and with index finger writes in the grime:
I WISH MY WIFE WAS AS DIRTY AS THIS VAN.

Exit Bloke One and we pause on his scribbling for a moment.

Enter Bloke Two (Brett, you guessed right) who reads the graffito before adding a postscript:
SHE IS, MATE.

We then fade to black and a title:

THE LOVE CHANNEL.

BUY HER A SUBSCRIPTION.

BEFORE SOMEONE ELSE DOES.

We headed for the carpark and commandeered a van (curiously, a Coke truck) and shot. It went like a dream, my darling. The hapless Frank Sinton joined us and said “you could’ve shot this on Wimbledon bloody Broadway.” But he was missing the point entirely – that point being awards, precious heart. Besides, he is Mr. Yesterday and are we concerned for his opinion? Don’t be so silly.

Danny Boy was flapping that we had not had this script approved by a living soul, but my two lads cared not a jot. To be honest I am beginning to acquire their taste for the dangerous life.

So our film is in the can at last. I am going to pack my bags and then we will party like it’s 1999 – well, bless my silk socks, we just did that! I have my eye on a waiter who looks like Omar Sharif in
Dr. Zhivago
– you know my weakness for a lush moustache.

Simon has gone to ground again. Not a whisper from the old gasbag. Is something afoot? Brett and Vincent have been wearing the expressions of the cats that inherited the St. Ivel Creamery, and I think there’s more to it than their cinematic triumph.

	[email protected] 1/14/00, 4:30pm (8:30pm local)
to:	[email protected]
cc:
re:	Carry On Advertising

Are we brilliant or what, mate? We have shot the best film ever today. Remember the dirty van script – the first one we did on LOVE that Horne trashed? It starred yours truly and my lovely assistant, Vin. Apart from the fact that it took him twelve takes to spell DIRTY right, he was Bobby sodding de Niro.

Sounds like you’re having a barrel of laughs over there. How the fuck did Finland get in on the act? Don’t expect us to dig you out. As of Monday we’re selling our butts to the highest bidder. This time I’m not getting out of my Slumberland for less than fifty grand and a 325i with a fuck-off sound system.

It’s our wrap party now. We’re going to watch Nathan and Mel fight over this waiter they’ve both been gagging for all week. See you Sunday night. Assuming we’re not too jetlagged and/or you’re not impaling Lol on the shag pile.

	David Crutton – 1/14/00, 4:43pm
to:	All Departments
cc:
re:	Coke

Everybody who has worked on Coke, or has even drunk one these past two weeks, will be at their desks tomorrow. I’m sure I can find plenty for you to do. Besides, James Weissmuller will be in the office and it is in all of our interests that he thinks none of us have lives beyond these four walls.

As for the rest of you, you will spend the next two days picking your most client-friendly outfits and working out how you will spend Monday showing more bustle than you have ever done. The pitch is at 12:00 and when the Coke people arrive this agency will not only shine like a new pin, it will crackle with activity.

Enjoy the weekend.

David Crutton

CEO

	David Crutton – 1/14/00, 4:50pm
to:	Rachel Stevenson
cc:
re:	Coke

Further to my all-staffer, I would like you to calculate the empty secretarial desks we will have on Monday and fill them with temps. If they want something to do, hand them Bibles, tell them to turn to Genesis, Chapter 1, Verse 1, and to start typing.

	[email protected] 1/14/00, 4:57pm (8:57pm local)
to:	[email protected]
cc:
re:	Coke

I have had no response to my earlier e-mail. If I am to play a leading role in Monday’s meeting as my status dictates, I do not see how
you can expect me to do so if I have not seen the work. Your six-monthly assessment is due shortly, Harriet, and you would do well to bear in mind that I am not always forgiving.

While I am writing, I should inform you that today Melinda, Brett and Vince shot a commercial that bore no resemblance to any script that had previously been approved. I made it quite clear to them that never in my time as Head of Client Services had I allowed anything like this to happen and that I wanted no part of it. I have tried to talk to David about it but he has not returned my calls. Please convey to him my profound misgivings about what has occurred here.

	Zoë Clarke – 1/14/00, 5:05pm
to:	Lorraine Pallister
cc:
re:	tonight

Crutton has given me a five-point plan to retype for the morning!!! Seventy fucking pages to make five crappy points!!!!! Can’t believe I’m losing my Friday night and my weekend as well!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

	Harriet Greenbaum – 1/14/00, 5:11pm
to:	David Crutton
cc:
re:	Dan

He has been nagging all day for word on Coke. What, if anything, shall I tell him?

He is also bothered that the film they shot for LOVE today wasn’t what was agreed. On the other hand, Mel e-mailed me to say they’d made excellent progress. She described the script and it sounds superb. Going by your criterion of “just make sure they return with any film,” they have more than met the brief.

Incidentally, I have no political agenda regarding Jim Weissmuller. I had plans tomorrow night and I’m disappointed to have to break them. If you want to stand me down from dinner with him, I’d be delighted.

	[email protected] 1/14/00, 5:21pm (7:21pm local)
to:	[email protected]
cc:
re:	Coke