Freeze Frame by B. David Warner Read Free Book Online

turned to
Cunningham. "You don't think they can visualize the commercial from
story board images?"
    "Those guys are engineers and numbers
crunchers. They couldn't visualize a fart after three helpings of
baked beans. I want to hit them right between the eyes.
    "But there's another reason. Time is
critical. The quicker we get them on the air, the better our
chances of getting the business.
    "The first prototype Ampere won’t be
available for filming for three weeks. That means the other two
agencies probably won't plan to put them on air for at least a
month and a half. But if we keep our TV ideas simple enough to
produce with computer animation, we can be on air before that.
We've just invested two million in the latest computer animation
equipment. Let's make the most of it."
    A few murmurs and groans sounded. The
creative people on both teams were convinced their hands had been
tied. While the writers, art directors and producers at the other
two agencies would have free reign, they were being limited to what
could be generated on computer.
    "Look, I know you can do it," Cunningham
said, trotting out the charm that endeared him to A & B
clients. "No cast of thousands. No spectacular panoramic shots.
Just the kind of bright ideas you folks have come up with time and
time again.”
    "When do you present to AVC?" Nichols
asked.
    "Four weeks from today. Sean Higgins will be
in charge of the project, assisted by Lyle Windemere.” Windemere
beamed at the sound of his name and I suspected he’d be wagging his
tail if he had one.
    “We'll be giving you more details on the car
itself,” Cunningham said. “All I can add are my wishes for your
success in creating the campaign that will keep the business here
at A & B.
    "Any other questions?"
    "Just the obvious," I said. "When do you and
Higgins want to see our ideas in an internal presentation?”
    “Yesterday.”
    17
    5:43 p.m.
    Work on the Ampere campaign began
immediately. With the prospect of a long evening ahead, I decided
to have supper for the group delivered to my office.
    The team voted for Chow Ling's Chinese, but
when the eight white paper bags arrived they might as well have
contained Puppy Chow. Slumped in leather chairs and seated around
the glass top table, the group picked at their meals like fussy
third graders.
    They were feeling the weight of a
responsibility none had asked for. Hundreds of A & B employees
and their families depended on the advertising we would create over
the next few weeks.
    That cloud might have hung over the group all
evening if it hadn’t been for Lyle Windemere. I hadn’t known
Windemere for more than a few hours, but I had him pretty well
pegged: a self-important junior account executive whose duties
consisted primarily of running errands for Sean Higgins. Red
haired, freckled and fresh out of graduate school, he gave no
outward indication of the slightest ability to rally the troops. In
fact, it seemed a safe bet he couldn’t inspire a group of weight
watching dropouts with a pastry cart packed with cannoli.
    Nonetheless suddenly there he stood, ramrod
straight, clearing his throat as if about to deliver the
State-of-the-Union address before Congress.
    “First of all,” he began, “let me thank each
of you in advance for your fine efforts. I know you’ll come up with
something Ken, Sean and I will be proud of.”
    I heard a soft groan and saw Bob Roy
Pickard’s eyes roll back in his head. If Windemere noticed he gave
no sign.
    “I was putting in a little O.T. myself,” he
said, “and decided to drop by and see what you’ve come up
with.”
    What we’d come up with? Was he joking? We’d
had the assignment less than four hours. The man clearly had no
perception of the creative process or the people involved in
it.
    My group, on the other hand, knew exactly
what to think of a stuffed shirt who walked around the agency as if
he had a stick up his rear end. I sat back and watched as Matt
Carter pulled Windemere’s