PART 3 – The Copywriter was a Pet Andy’s big ideas…. by Alan Cooper Andy didn’t exactly take a pass on those brilliant ideas did he? Recently the seasoned creative had been stumped more often than not in his writing. The great stuff just wasn’t flowing out of the ol’ cranial concept faucet. Then came these sticky notes on the floor. The notes gave him the edge he needed. The edge to lead by imaginative genius. The edge to put huge smiles on clients’ faces. And that edge was very, very addictive. But who could be jotting the lines down? He had no conscience about actually using the ideas, but his curious nature was driving him crazy on this subject – who was the author? The penmanship was a bit sloppy. The paper was warped from some damp substance too…but everything was still very legible. And Andy never had to change a word. He often fell asleep at his desk. Could he have scribbled these lines down when barely awake, as a patient might do when jotting down his latest dream to be analyzed? That didn’t seem to hold water because the handwriting didn’t come close to his own. He was more of a slant-from-right-to-left kind of writer. These letters were more herky-jerky and mainly took the form of all caps. So that really left this whole wonderful mystery unsolved. It was as if his own personal muse had the pen in hand. But really, these ideas were better than anything he could have come up with… Boutchou sat idly as Andy picked up the (slightly slime-covered) black Sharpie pen off of the floor. Andy continued to wonder some of these questions aloud, “Who the hell is the idea man?!” Then the pooch barked a curious bark. Andy looked down and realized that Boutchou was trying to tell him something. “You want a biscuit boy? Need to go outside?” Andy asked. That was truly frustrating. Boutchou just wanted to give the answers to the mysteries of the sticky note. “Not an idea man Andy! An idea DOG!” Boutchou thought l

I apologize if my continuation of the story is hard to read. For some reason the paragraphing vanished.

Although Boutchou the dog physically left the notes, it wasn't his consciousness. Dogs don't have the intellect or motor skills to accomplish that, even if the quality of some holding company ad agencies work is scarcely above canine. Bobby Ryder dreamed of being copywriter. He thought nothing would be cooler than to spend all day creating ads. But despite the advertising world perpetually complaining about a brain drain, Bobby like thousands of liberal arts, general business and communications grads who annually longed to work in a fun and creative environment, never received more than a form rejection letter from any organization in the industry. Bobby eventually had to move out of his parents home, so he aimlessly took some random sales jobs to pay the rent and then became a letter carrier to at least to be able to earn a steady income. Being a mailman made Bobby go postal, so he went back to school and became an accountant. His family said at least you'll always be able to find work. Accounting robbed Bobby of his spirit and he was miserable for 8-10 hours a day, more during tax season. He was even less happy during his leisure. He became a couch potato and would bitterly talk to his TV every time he saw a commercial that sucked. "I could do better", he'd retort. One day Bobby dived into Manhattan traffic to push away a little girl from being hit by a car. He saved her life, but was run over and killed in the process. Bobby was told in the after life that the reward for his selfless act of saving the girl at the expense of his own life, would be the fulfillment of his deepest unfulfilled wish from his previous life granted the next time around. When initially asked about what wish he desired to be granted to his next incarnation, Bobby replied to be hung like a porn star. "We don't know your future gender yet, so that wish can't be granted." "Well then, how about working in advertising." "Advertising as you knew it, will cease to exist by the time you're reincarnated." "So I missed out on the fun in my previous life and won't get a chance next time either. Its just not fair." The spirit version of Bobby, free from the confines of a corporal existence could randomly view the lives of the currently living, sort of like trying to watch television while someone else rapidly channel surfed. One of the channels he briefly glimpsed was Andy's life. "This air headed pretty boy can get a job in advertising, but I can't. I bet you his dog can do a better job. That's it, let me become this guy's dog." "You can't be reincarnated as a currently living creature. They already have a life force." However we can download your consciousness into lower beings such as dogs for up to a year. Its technically not allowed, but I think I can hide it for a year or less. A year as a dog for you should be quite fulfilling because it will be seven dog years." Bobby Ryder's consciousness was downloaded into Boutchou, Andy's Bichon Frise. As Boutchou, Andy was not hung like a porn star, but he could lick his balls. And he eventually found a way to create great advertising.

nice touch that dog bit :) and nice to meet you to.

I'm going to let someone else take it over - but love the idea - an exqusite corpse reborn online!

Of course the right title is "The story of Boutchou the dog"