e (98 page)

fuck off

	li [email protected] 1/18/00, 10:51am
to:	[email protected]
cc:
re:	very weird

You up yet or did you choke on your own vomit and die in your sleep? There’s some strange things going on here. Harriet had a closed doors session with Crutton and according to the Zoë grapevine there was some serious chucking of hard objects and shouting from both of them. Harriet came down a few minutes ago and dragged Pinki off to the ladies. I sent Lol in to earwig and it turns out Tarzan F. gave Crutton an official warning – the
Sun
, the Great Coke Robbery, Carla Browne’s drug allegations, Kimbelle, you name it. His failure to spend four hours a day doing Tarzan-style ab crunches probably got chucked in as well. Crutton has to pass the
blame on, so he’s sticking it to Harriet – claims she’s stitching him up. If you ask me, Weissmuller’s being a tad ungrateful. Doesn’t winning Coke count for something? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not feeling sorry for Crutton, I just hate those fucking Yanks. Tossers.

Anyway, get out of bed and get a job. I’m sick of paying my taxes and watching idle spongers like you sit around watching Jerry Springer.

	Kelly Derringer / [email protected] 1/18/00, 11:13am
to:	[email protected]
cc:	[email protected]
re:	change of circumstances

Dear David,

It is with the deepest regret that I am writing this, but I feel I have no other choice.

Last night I arrived home to find my son on his PC. Ordinarily the private activities of my family would be no concern of yours, but this situation is very different. I told him about our new advertising agency and to show off his computer skills he keyed in Miller Shanks and executed an Internet search.

The result of this was a short film clip. It featured your Executive Creative Director and a transvestite performing an act of unspeakable depravity in the very office I was given a tour of yesterday afternoon.

You will appreciate that I had no option other than to break the news of this distressing discovery to my colleagues this morning. After a short discussion we were of one mind.

A brand like Coca-Cola, with its proud history of clean living and family values, could never be placed into the trust of those who maintain such libertine moral standards.

It is therefore with sadness that I inform you we have decided not to award our advertising account to Miller Shanks after all. As you will read in the trade press, we have handed TBWA the challenge of representing us.

Once again I would like to thank you for a highly professional presentation. I am only sorry that it gave a less than candid picture of the full breadth of your agency’s abilities.

If I may close on a personal note, it sickens me to the marrow that
I have been exposed to the perverted antics that you allow to go on in your offices. However, there are not the words to describe how angry I feel that my two young children have also been scarred by them.

Yours sincerely,

Kelly Derringer

Senior Vice President, Marketing and Promotion, Coca-Cola GB

	Zoë Clarke – 1/18/00, 11:19am
to:	Ken Perry
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re:	emergency

A window has been accidentally broken in David’s office! Could we have a couple of your lads to clean it up please? Ta!!

	[email protected] 1/18/00, 11:31am
to:	[email protected]
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re:	your leaving present

You know you and Vin were too arse-holed to ride your bikes home last night and left them parked out front? Your R1 now has an accessory that Yamaha never dreamed of – Crutton’s laptop is buried in the petrol tank. I think we just lost Coke.

	[email protected] 2/7/00, 10:31am
to:	[email protected] [email protected]
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re:	welcome back

So, how was Tenerife? You got pissed, shagged and tanned, yes? You surprise me. Anyway, hope you’re nicely rested up for Day One at TBWA. What’s Beattie given you to do? Don’t tell me. Coke.

It’s been an eventful 3 weeks since you buggered off. The details:

You missed the first airing of your LOVE ad. I caught it in the
Friends
break on Friday. Stonking effort, boys. Except Lol says you should’ve got your hair cut, Vin.

You also missed a top going-away do for Crutton last week. As our longest serving senior arsehole, Desperate Dan made a sincere and moving speech. It featured the words “major,” “contribution,” “advertising” and “history.” You get the drift. The whip-round had raised all of forty-seven quid, but Crutton only stayed half an hour and wasn’t there for the presentation of six Dartington tumblers in a leatherette presentation casket – ungrateful tosser.

Miller Shanks Bucharest won’t know what’s hit them. Give the poor bastards a couple of weeks and they’ll be dreaming of the carefree days of Communism.

Judge Dredd has taken to working for Dan like a dream. She’s already sounding off that she’s PA to one of the most senior figures in advertising and she should be shown a little more respect – Cupid couldn’t have made a better match.

Lol looks a treat in her power suit outside Barry Clement’s office. He hasn’t arrived yet, but I hope he doesn’t give the future Mrs. O’Keefe (look, she’s met my mum and that’s as good as a ring in my book) the notion that she’s too important for me. Mind you, her saucy mate, Debbie, started this morning so there’s always Plan B.

All the changes haven’t affected Pinki a bit. She’s the same fruit-bat she ever was. Her hypnotherapist told her she’s the reincarnation of Ernest Hemingway. That would explain both her writing abilities and the fact that she’s taken up cheroots.

Still no sign of Horne, and they can’t fire him until they find him. He’s a slippery twat alright, but Ronnie Biggs he ain’t. He’ll turn up sooner or later. There’s gossip that the CEO of MS Manila spotted him outside a drag bar. There’s also a rumour he’s getting a slot on LOVE presenting “TV’s on TV” – no, I just made that up.

That’s all the news that’s fit to print. Give me a bell as soon as they plug in your phones. I’ve got work to do now – casting for a bloke to play opposite Ivana Trump in the new Freedom ad. Has to be young enough to look like her boy toy but not young enough to be her son. It’s a fine fucking line we tread.

I’ll close on an item from the
Twilight Zone.
Lol just took a call from Quentin Tarantino’s agent who was wondering when the Kimbelle shoot was so they could work it into QT’s hectic schedule. You figure that out.

	Harriet Greenbaum – 2/7/00, 11:11am
to:	Zoë Clarke
cc:
re:	I’m parched