‘What the hell have you done?’
Comms Director Gabriel Silk lounged languidly in the chair before Sally Gulliver’s desk. He shook his head in wry disbelief.
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Why Have You Recruited This Deranged Fop for our CEO? The guy’s a couple of press releases short of a full Comms strategy.’
Sally frowned, although whether at the vivacity of the metaphor or the implied accusation is not recorded.
‘Yesterday,’ Gabriel; Silk continued, in tones between offended incredulity and amusement, ‘Our new CEO, whom you have recruited, burst into my office like a tornado in corduroys, and without so much as a ‘Good morning Gabriel, how’s that frothy latte going down today,’ he demanded to know what my strategy was for communicating dessert innovations to mothers of children under five?! And do you know what,’ Here Gabriel Silk paused, as if savouring a new form of semolina, ‘Do you know what, he wasn’t wearing any socks!’
Sally Gulliver sighed. In my more psychological moments I have considered whether Gabriel Silk’s flamboyance is merely a perverse expression of his innate conservatism, but then again I am merely a plant, and would never pretend to understand humans.
‘Mark Temple is going to turn this Company round. You watch. Socks or no socks.’
‘The guy’s as mad as a pocket of frogs!’
‘It’s true he has his own distinctive style,’ returned Sally carefully, ‘but I bet you in twelve months’ time he’ll have upped profits by 10%.’
‘Bet me what?’
‘If I’m wrong, I’ll write up the Exec Team minutes for a whole year.’
Gabriel Silk’s jaw dropped like a poorly-judged hint. ‘Really?’
‘Crumbs. In that case, you’re on…’
In two weeks’ time: Who Are Our Customers, Anyway?
Bingleby was confiding in Richard Goff
Having just adopted a chillli plant in order to take part in an interdepartmental competition (2012), I'm now concerned that we have accepted a 'spy' and it will be reporting back the comings and goings between engineering and training. ooh err missus!
Ms Sarah, thank you for your post. I can assure you that if you carefully develop a relationship with your chilli plant, only good things can ensue. However, I should be most grateful if you refrained from calling me 'Missus', as like most green-blooded males, I find this faintly startling. My best regards, Bingelby.
Hell's teeth, I can't believe I spelt my own name wrong. This drought is really getting to me. Bingleby.
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