"Viktor Pelevin. Generation P (fragment, англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Absolut. When Absolut is over...
- I understand, - interrupted Tatarsky. - So what's in the end?
- There are two options. If the bank that credited the guy is the
bandit's one, the guy gets killed at some point. Since there are no other
banks here, this is the most common case. If on the contrary, the guy is
the bandit himself, then his last credit is tossed over to the State Bank
and he proclaims himself a bankrupt. The officers of the court would come
to his office, they would distrain empty bottles and vomit covered fax
machine, and the guy starts over after some time. Though, the State Bank
have got its own bandits lately, so the situation is a bit more
complicated actually but in general the picture haven't changed.
- A-ha... - said Tatarsky thoughtfully. - But I still can't get the idea
of how all this relates to the advertisement business.
- Here is where the most important thing happens. When approximately half
of Smirnoff or Absolut is not yet drunk, the Jeep still runs and the death
seems to be some far away and abstract thing, in the guy's head, the one's
who started all this mess, a peculiar chemical reaction happens. A feeling
of unbounded greatness wakes up in him and he orders a commercial clip. He
also demands this clip to be cooler than the ones ordered by other idiots.
Financially, approximately a third of each loan goes to it.
Psychologically it's perfectly understandable. Imagine a guy who found
some obscure "Everest" enterprise and so much he wants to see his petty
logo on the first TV channel, somewhere between BMW and Coca-Cola that
he's literally ready to hang himself. So, in that very moment of this
chemical reaction in the customer's head, we pop up from behind the bushes.
Tatarsky was very pleased to hear that "we".
- The situation looks like this, - Morkovin went on. - There are several
studious out there that produce TV commercials. They desperately need
smart scriptwriters, because everything depends on them now. The principle
of the work is: the people from the studio find a customer who wishes to
show up on the TV. You look at him. He speaks about something. You listen
to him. Then you write the script. Usually it's not more than one page
because the clips are short. It might take you a couple of minutes but you
return to the customer not before the whole week passes - he must be sure
that during all this week you did nothing were but running around your
room squeezing your head with your hands and were thinking, thinking,
thinking. He reads what you wrote and depending on whether he likes it or
not, he orders the clip to your people or finds somebody else. That's why
you are the crucial persona for the studio you're working for. The order
depends on you entirely. So if you succeed in hypnotizing the customer,
you get 10% of the clip's cost.
- And how much is the clip?
- Usually between fifteen and thirty. Let's take twenty as the average.
- Of what? - asked Tatarsky suspiciously.
- Oh geez, surely not roubles... Thousands of dollars.
It took Tatarsky a fraction of a second to figure out 10% of twenty
thousand, he swallowed hard and looked at Morkovin with doggy eyes.
- Obviously, this is not for long, - said Morkovin. - A year or two will
pass and everything will change. Instead of some small fries that takes
loans just for nothing, people will get millions of bucks. Instead of