Alfie Twitch is always switched on, never offline. Out-of-office makes him sick. Alfie Twitch is always moving, always manoeuvring, invades personal space, is handsy, your best friend, really wants to hear about your weekend. Alfie Twitch doesn’t know your name.
Nothing is ever a problem for Alfie Twitch, many fingers in many pies, checking his phone when it’s a different tone. Alfie Twitch is vital, connected, there for you, fucks up, absolutely, I completely agree.
But Alfie Twitch is struggling. He’s not had an idea for a month and management are getting, well, twitchy.
The client wants to quadruple its income from merchandise. Last year they sold 1.2 million Silly Schnoz toys – little foam toys for kids to put on their nose. We could up the price. No.
Then, on the train, it happens, the pooling of inspiration. He takes off his cap, and scratches his head, as he does when things get serious.
This year, they’ll make a whole range of different characters, make them cute, the kids will love them. But here’s the brilliant bit. Sealed bags, it’s pot luck which one they get. Kids will demand the whole set, but parents will have no way of knowing what’s inside, so they have to keep buying. It’s cynical, bordering on a scam, but it’s fine, it’s for charity, and who is going to get uppity about giving money to kids with no arms?
Alfie Twitch calls the the office. He’s back in the game.
Just Punch The Clock 