The Crunch Campaign by Kate Hunter Read Free Book Online Page B

sip of Product Xmas. It was delicious – like a toffee apple.
    â€˜Not sure. But we got a call today from Caesar Maxwell,’ said her mum.
    â€˜The MyFries guy?’
    â€˜What do you know about him?’ asked Liam.
    â€˜He went to Joel’s school,’ said Katie, ‘years ago. In the 60s, I think. He offered to build them a new library if they agreed to call it the Brisbane City College Fry-brary . Even Joel thought that was the cheesiest thing he’d ever heard.’
    Liam was horrified. ‘Did they do it?’
    â€˜No, in the end, the school didn’t need Mr MyFries – some old banker died and left them a heap of respectable money, so they named the library after him. But apparently that guy Maxwell is talking to the P&Fs of smaller schools about giving them bucketloads of cash if they’ll do it.’
    â€˜Really?’ Her mum was intrigued. ‘That’s awful. How do you know all this, anyway?’
    â€˜Mum, there’s this thing called the internet . And you can get news on it. Also, Joel hears things. He’s always been an eavesdropper. And his mum and dad talk about this kind of stuff. But why did Caesar Maxwell call you?’
    â€˜He asked us – almost told us – that we needed to put money into a fund he’s organising. He’s going to make some ads to fight the ban.’
    â€˜What kind of ads? Who’s going to make them?’
    â€˜He didn’t say. I’d assume the agency that makes the MyFries ads.’
    â€˜Eew.’ Katie shuddered. ‘MyFries ads are the worst on TV.’
    â€˜What are they like?’ Her mother didn’t watch much, just ‘The Bill’ and that was on the ABC – no ads.
    â€˜There’s this family called the Frys – there are twenty-four of them, and they wear gold jumpers to make them look like chips and shout prices at the camera. At the end of every ad they all yell, “Whaddya want? MyFries! When do you want ‘em? Now! ”’ Katie shuddered.
    Georgie lifted her head from her father’s shoulder and looked like she was about to say something, but she didn’t.
    â€˜Maxwell’s a rich man,’ said Liam, ‘so the ads can’t be too bad. They must work.’
    â€˜He sells chips because they’re cheap, not because his ads are any good.’ Katie shrugged. ‘And they’re cheap because he buys his cooking oil from poor villages in South-East Asia. We learned about it in school. He pays his workers practically nothing.’ She drained her glass. ‘Anyway, what did you tell Caesar Maxwell? You’re not going contribute to his fund, are you?’
    â€˜We said we’d think about it and get back to him,’ said Liam.
    â€˜Well get back to him soon and tell him the idea sucks.’ Katie topped up her Product Xmas. ‘And I bet the ads’ll be rubbish.’
    â€˜So do we,’ said her mum. ‘But even though we don’t have a million dollars, it might be worth contributing something. No one else seems to be doing much.’
    Katie spun her glass slowly on the table, wondering if she should tell them about her meeting with the prime minister.
    â€˜We’ll chew it over.’ Her mother took the mugs to the sink. ‘But in the meantime, let’s get Product Xmas on the shelves and work out whether we can advertise it later.’
    That made no sense to Katie. What was the point of making any product unless you could advertise it?
    â€˜Right,’ said Liam, standing up. ‘I should get these kids home to bed. Thanks for having us. I’m sorry if they were a bit crazy, Katie.’
    â€˜Were they?’ She tried to smile but it must have looked sarcastic because her mum gave her the death stare. ‘I mean, it was fun,’ she said sheepishly, but she was sure Georgie rolled her eyes. That kid unnerved her.
    That night, Katie dreamt she was standing on a highway. She