Dear Lady Selling Seashells by the Seashore,
Let me get this straight. You managed to create the most successful word-of-mouth marketing campaign of all time but forgot to include a call-to-action? You’ve got half the world talking about your sea shell business (trying to at least, your tagline is a real sonofabitch) and somehow failed to mention where your retail stores are located? On behalf of all my marketing peers, what the actual fuck?
I mean, come on. “By the seashore” isn’t even close to a street address. Are you milking tourists on the Mediterranean? Peddling off the Persian Gulf? Bartering on the Black Sea? How am I supposed to plug you into Google Maps when I don’t even know what hemisphere you’re operating on?
You could’ve had class. You could’ve been a shell vendor. You could’ve been somebody. I know this for a fact because I had my intern, Kevin, calculate the profit loss resulting from your marketing fiasco.
Let’s say the bargain shells go for a buck and the posh ones cost five. Knowing that your campaign has reached approximately two billion people, your little oversight may well have cost you $10 billion. Kevin had to take two weeks off to recover from witnessing such a high level of fuckery.
Does your business even have a name? How do we know you’re running a legitimate operation over there (wherever there is)? For all we know you could be stuffing those puppies full of illegal drugs and selling them to pre-teens. Is “seashell” code for a new type of ammunition designed for underwater warfare? Are you an arms dealer sent from the future to bring ruin to our world? I demand answers!
That’s it. I’m tweeting a complaint to the Department of Commerce (that is the best way to get in touch with the governing body of the most powerful country in the world these days, right?).