Post by Fenrir on Jul 10, 2020 22:17:59 GMT -8
The Martial Art of the Endorsement: Yellow Belt | 2 Star Mission (4.000 Words Requirement | Must have at least 3 Global Rep and have completed TMAoTE: White Belt, or have 5 Global Rep)- Some martial artists find they don't have the time to hold a steady job down. Who wants to be flipping burgers, wearing a suit and tie and being security for a dignitary, or pulling out giant mutant radishes from the ground? No one who's a martial artist, on average – and that's a survey taken from those who both are martial artists by natural skill, luck, or hard work. But there's another way out there! Appearing in commercials and ads! What business doesn't want to be tied to a World Martial Artist Tournament class fighter? Now we're going to move up to mid-tier ads. Rewards: 100,000 Zeni, one roll of a 1d12. If it lands on a 10, an 11 or a 12, you get one rank of 'Celebrity' and your rewards are doubled because one or more of your advertisements went viral. In addition if it goes viral, roll a 1d100 – this is not a treasure roll; on a roll of 1-5 or 95-100, you automatically gain entry into the next World Martial Arts Tournament.
Peppa was seated at her desk. The desk was massive, made of mahogany, and was littered with files, folders, head shots, and various other odds and ends. There was an executive toy seated on the far corner of the desk. Fenrir had seen those before; the name of the device escaped him but he did know that the sphere on one end is pulled up, raised, and released. When it falls and strikes the stationary spheres in the center, the force travels through the stationary spheres and forces the final sphere of the line to swing out. It then swings back in and strikes the stationary spheres and repeats the process in reverse, creating a loop.
The soft sound of the silver spheres striking one another was in perfect sync with the ticking of the tall old grandfather clock situated up against the wall several feet from her cluttered desk.
"So, this is what I've noticed,” Peppa began as she raised her hand and motioned for Sal to come over and stand by her side. He brought her yet another file and she splayed it out, open across her desk atop the rest of the clutter, “Your ad did rather well. But not as well as we hoped. So, if you are willing to try with us again, I would like to try another approach.”
Fenrir was seated in a chair. It was a rather plush and comfortable chair; in fact, as soon as he had entered her office and Peppa motioned to the chair, once he sat down, he felt as if he had sank into the leather chair almost immediately. It was a rather odd feeling for him, but one that he would not complain about.
“And what kind of approach are you considering trying?” Fenrir questioned, his eyes darting between the face of the seated Peppa and the clinking executive toy that continued on as if it were a perpetual motion device, click, click, click.
“Well, the HATCHET commercial did pretty well, I’m not going to lie and say it did poorly. Our client was quite pleased, the sales went up, and that really was all they wanted. They weren’t really thinking that we’d blow up their sales or something, just get a good generous uptick in their sales. We achieved that with flying colors. However, when I take on a job, I want to blow their sales numbers through the roof, no, through the stratosphere. I want them to be selling out of their product and fast. Unfortunately, this time, we did not accomplish this. But, we do have a new client.”
“Is this going to be another body wash commercial? Because I’ll strip naked again without any hesitation.” Fenrir said, a tiny teasing smile on his face.
The red flush that instantaneously and very visibly crossed Peppa’s face when that happened streaked across her cheeks once more as she recalled the images, “No, it’s not a body wash commercial this time. That won’t be necessary.”
“The client isn’t a body wash brand this time,” Sal piped up, clearing his throat; it was funny, at least to Fenrir, because looking over at Sal, he noticed that his cheeks had taken on a soft rosy coloration as well similar to Peppa’s, “This time our client is a cafe. It is a butler cafe. Have you ever heard of one of those?”
“Butler cafe?” Fenrir sat back in his seat, his head tilted in visible curiosity, and his brow arched as well, “I’ve heard of maid cafes; are these butler cafes something similar?”
“Yes, well, a butler cafe is the same as a maid cafe, but instead of young girls dressed up as maids, the servers are young men dressed up as butlers. Sometimes they have different costumes as well, but usually it's a butler uniform. The client needs some advertising for their cafe to bring in more clientele; men and women alike. That is where we, and by extension you, come in.”
“Go on,” This sounded interesting; he leaned in, resting his elbows on the armrests of the chair as he grinned at the woman in front of him, “How would this advertisement job work?”
“No nudity,” Peppa reminded him, “You would basically work at the butler cafe for a few days; during that time, we’ll be taking promotional shots and handing out flyers with the promotional shots of you on them. You’ll hand out flyers on the street, you’ll get them to as many people as possible.”
“That sounds pretty simple.”
“Yes, it does,” Peppa agreed. The job was simple. It was a complicated job, in one sense; he had to work at the butler cafe. Did he have any experience working in such a place? From the fact that he had to ask what a butler cafe was, Peppa was sure that he did not. But, what was so difficult about working at a place like that? All he had to do was show up, be charming, wear nice clothes, and professionally flirt with his guests, be suave, and get them to buy drinks and snacks and spend time in the cafe, buy food and lounge and be comfortable. That was pretty much the job. But as complicated as that sounded - to a beginner - she was sure that he could handle it.
At least, that is what the woman hoped. He looked eager enough. From the way he grinned at her, it made Peppe somewhat at ease that she wasn’t forcing him into something that he would feel uncomfortable doing.
“So, where is this butler cafe? And do you know what kind of uniform I’ll be wearing?” Fenrir questioned, rubbing his chin and jawline a bit.
“Oh, well, they sent me the address of the cafe. It’s a nice place. Not that big but it’s also not like a tiny place. It’s pretty nice inside. I went in to get a look at it, to see how things were going in there. It looks good. Top notch, I would say. The food was nice, the workers were friendly, and the owners were a very outgoing couple. As for the uniform, they sent us some outfits that you will be asked to wear during the time you spend working there. They don’t wear the same outfit every day; sometimes they wear a butler attire, sometimes they wear another costume. It depends on the theme of the day or something similar to that effect.”
“Can I try the clothes out now?” Fenrir stood up, “Were you able to get them my measurements? The clothes do have to fit me.”
“Yes, I was able to get your measurements the last time that you were here; we had to get you measured for briefs for the Hatchet ad, remember?”
“Oh, yes, I was wondering why they were taking all those measurements. I just figured they wanted to measure me.”
“Eh?” Peppa shook her head, tossing that comment aside, “Well, the clothes should fit you. For now, we’ll be heading over to the cafe and you can get yourself acquainted with the location and the management.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Fenrir rubbed his hands together, his grin only growing wider.
WC: 1,200
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Peppa was seated at her desk. The desk was massive, made of mahogany, and was littered with files, folders, head shots, and various other odds and ends. There was an executive toy seated on the far corner of the desk. Fenrir had seen those before; the name of the device escaped him but he did know that the sphere on one end is pulled up, raised, and released. When it falls and strikes the stationary spheres in the center, the force travels through the stationary spheres and forces the final sphere of the line to swing out. It then swings back in and strikes the stationary spheres and repeats the process in reverse, creating a loop.
The soft sound of the silver spheres striking one another was in perfect sync with the ticking of the tall old grandfather clock situated up against the wall several feet from her cluttered desk.
"So, this is what I've noticed,” Peppa began as she raised her hand and motioned for Sal to come over and stand by her side. He brought her yet another file and she splayed it out, open across her desk atop the rest of the clutter, “Your ad did rather well. But not as well as we hoped. So, if you are willing to try with us again, I would like to try another approach.”
Fenrir was seated in a chair. It was a rather plush and comfortable chair; in fact, as soon as he had entered her office and Peppa motioned to the chair, once he sat down, he felt as if he had sank into the leather chair almost immediately. It was a rather odd feeling for him, but one that he would not complain about.
“And what kind of approach are you considering trying?” Fenrir questioned, his eyes darting between the face of the seated Peppa and the clinking executive toy that continued on as if it were a perpetual motion device, click, click, click.
“Well, the HATCHET commercial did pretty well, I’m not going to lie and say it did poorly. Our client was quite pleased, the sales went up, and that really was all they wanted. They weren’t really thinking that we’d blow up their sales or something, just get a good generous uptick in their sales. We achieved that with flying colors. However, when I take on a job, I want to blow their sales numbers through the roof, no, through the stratosphere. I want them to be selling out of their product and fast. Unfortunately, this time, we did not accomplish this. But, we do have a new client.”
“Is this going to be another body wash commercial? Because I’ll strip naked again without any hesitation.” Fenrir said, a tiny teasing smile on his face.
The red flush that instantaneously and very visibly crossed Peppa’s face when that happened streaked across her cheeks once more as she recalled the images, “No, it’s not a body wash commercial this time. That won’t be necessary.”
“The client isn’t a body wash brand this time,” Sal piped up, clearing his throat; it was funny, at least to Fenrir, because looking over at Sal, he noticed that his cheeks had taken on a soft rosy coloration as well similar to Peppa’s, “This time our client is a cafe. It is a butler cafe. Have you ever heard of one of those?”
“Butler cafe?” Fenrir sat back in his seat, his head tilted in visible curiosity, and his brow arched as well, “I’ve heard of maid cafes; are these butler cafes something similar?”
“Yes, well, a butler cafe is the same as a maid cafe, but instead of young girls dressed up as maids, the servers are young men dressed up as butlers. Sometimes they have different costumes as well, but usually it's a butler uniform. The client needs some advertising for their cafe to bring in more clientele; men and women alike. That is where we, and by extension you, come in.”
“Go on,” This sounded interesting; he leaned in, resting his elbows on the armrests of the chair as he grinned at the woman in front of him, “How would this advertisement job work?”
“No nudity,” Peppa reminded him, “You would basically work at the butler cafe for a few days; during that time, we’ll be taking promotional shots and handing out flyers with the promotional shots of you on them. You’ll hand out flyers on the street, you’ll get them to as many people as possible.”
“That sounds pretty simple.”
“Yes, it does,” Peppa agreed. The job was simple. It was a complicated job, in one sense; he had to work at the butler cafe. Did he have any experience working in such a place? From the fact that he had to ask what a butler cafe was, Peppa was sure that he did not. But, what was so difficult about working at a place like that? All he had to do was show up, be charming, wear nice clothes, and professionally flirt with his guests, be suave, and get them to buy drinks and snacks and spend time in the cafe, buy food and lounge and be comfortable. That was pretty much the job. But as complicated as that sounded - to a beginner - she was sure that he could handle it.
At least, that is what the woman hoped. He looked eager enough. From the way he grinned at her, it made Peppe somewhat at ease that she wasn’t forcing him into something that he would feel uncomfortable doing.
“So, where is this butler cafe? And do you know what kind of uniform I’ll be wearing?” Fenrir questioned, rubbing his chin and jawline a bit.
“Oh, well, they sent me the address of the cafe. It’s a nice place. Not that big but it’s also not like a tiny place. It’s pretty nice inside. I went in to get a look at it, to see how things were going in there. It looks good. Top notch, I would say. The food was nice, the workers were friendly, and the owners were a very outgoing couple. As for the uniform, they sent us some outfits that you will be asked to wear during the time you spend working there. They don’t wear the same outfit every day; sometimes they wear a butler attire, sometimes they wear another costume. It depends on the theme of the day or something similar to that effect.”
“Can I try the clothes out now?” Fenrir stood up, “Were you able to get them my measurements? The clothes do have to fit me.”
“Yes, I was able to get your measurements the last time that you were here; we had to get you measured for briefs for the Hatchet ad, remember?”
“Oh, yes, I was wondering why they were taking all those measurements. I just figured they wanted to measure me.”
“Eh?” Peppa shook her head, tossing that comment aside, “Well, the clothes should fit you. For now, we’ll be heading over to the cafe and you can get yourself acquainted with the location and the management.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Fenrir rubbed his hands together, his grin only growing wider.
WC: 1,200