Sunday, 1 August 2010

Pitch day. A client's perspective.

Look at these calm, professional welcoming clients ushering an agency into a pitch. Aren't their warm expressions just perfect? Wouldn't their beneficent demeanour put any agency and its pitch team at ease (even the jumpy creative guy who's the only non-suit in the agency who can really present but who sweats like a fat uncle on a dancefloor)?

Yes. Absolutely.

And that's why I'd never have cuntwodges like them working for me.

A pitch is war. A pitch is a world war. A pitch is World War 7 and I'm General Dave 'Knuckles' Knockles of the 4th motherfuckfacing Battalion. You agency shitshooters just walked into my theatre of conflict and you'd better have come with some serious firepower or you're going to leave in a bodybag.

In fact, fuck it - you're going to leave in a carrier bag because there'll be fuck all left of you but teeth and jam. (And pubes. There are always fucking pubes, aren't there, no matter what you do.)

Yes, I called you in. Yes, I gave you a brief. Yes, I changed that brief radically with a week to go. (And, okay, I changed it back again with two days to go. And, fair enough, I changed it completely again the night before the pitch.) Yes, this pitch is only happening because I have asked for new agencies to give me their view on my business.

But I'm not here to listen to your ideas. I'm not here to bathe in all 266 slides of your soapy Powerpoint hot-tub. I'm not here to see the creative work you've probably done far too much of, because you fuckers always do.


I'm here to make a series of pedantic and confusing criticisms designed to impress my peers by making you look inept. And it will work because you're too desperate to win the business to point out that I'm talking utter fuckchunks.

Do you seriously think I'd give you a brief, spend an appropriate and respectful amount of time digesting your response to it and then follow your professional advice?

Go fuck a cat!

How does is reflect on me when I follow your advice and it works? Shitting badly, that's how.

'Hey! Did you hear about Knockles? He increased sales by 130%!'

'He did? How'd he do it?

'He listened to every word the agency said!'

'Then why are we paying him? Fire his balls off!'

What kind of wet-balled jizzmop of a marketeer would actually listen to his or her (but let's be honest, probably his) agency? You'd have to be thicker than Simon Cowell's corset to allow your agency to take any credit for anything.

Take it from me, I'm a seasoned marketing professional and widely regarded as a genius in my field. DO NOT PAY ANY ATTENTION TO A WORD YOUR AGENCY TELLS YOU. IT WILL GET YOU FIRED.

So on pitch day, don't pay a Blunkett's bit of notice to what the identikit Jaspers and Victorias are telling you. Just do everything you can to make them look stupid in front of your colleagues. It's one of the ways I rose from Marketing Executive to Marketing Director in just 17 years.

(Oh, yes. You read it right. Seventeen years. Fucking frightening, isn't it?)

Tomorrow (or the day after, or the day after that, or, like, whenever) I'll tell you exactly how I did it to the agencies that pitched for my business last week.

Now, though, I've just decided that all my ads need changing and I'm going to tell my agency all about it, even though it's 9.50pm on a Sunday motherbastard night.

Why? Because I AM THE CLIENT!


  1. Aw shit Dave, get in line. I've seen a thousand clients like you. No fuck that, a million.

  2. Pff. Watevs, David Everlasting-Cardboard.