You’re looking at that bell pepper with a little skepticism, aren’t you? Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. And you’re right! The boys at Cali-Flower Social (Third rebranding this year, spurred on by the lack of west coast clients. Offices still located in New York. West coast clients still missing. Don’t bring it up at the board meeting; everyone is #veryconcerned.) are back at it again! They’ve hooked another big fish, riding the feel-good waves of the Senior Vice President to the Administrative and Financial Chair’s shared yachting route with Mr. Bell Pepper himself. Naturally, the old man championed it as another deal struck together by the shared love of the outdoors! But we know better, at least if you listen to gossip, the hushed whispers during white line bathroom breaks, peon Account Executives murmuring about Bob and Bell’s shared love for DUI defense lawyers, “Breathing fresh air, blowing into a Breathalyzer, what’s the difference, right? But I digress, back to the deals!”
One look at that bell pepper and you just know that Bravo-Toaster, our favorite conniving #MILLENIALEXPERT, now repping hard for haircut 2.0: the undercut, definitely took the lead on this one. “Bros, I’ve been pouring over the social media data from the analysts and I’ve gotta say, it looks like RETRO is back. We def gotta roll with the bloggers on this one!” This was undoubtedly met by a cheer from that one possibly stoned Baby Boomer in the back, the guy no one’s heard speak in a meeting for over six years, apart from the occasional cut-in, a lame joke referencing 60s Free Love (The only brand that matters, mannnn!”) and his wife’s swinging ways. “I’ve been saying it for years, we need to bring tie-dye back, baby!” Bravo-Toaster was in, and despite having never once heard a Grateful Dead song in his entire life, threw down a quick ad-lib, “Yes! Some real Jerry Garcia shit, my man!”
Cynic and Naysayer should have had a field day on the proposal, but they stayed silent, too hung-over from last night’s ironic enjoyment of a pirate-themed club called the Wooden Mast, an underground hole that only played techno remixes of songs by punk legend Black Flag, awful, overproduced EDM tracks by DJs with names like Butterfly Death Sauce and Porky the Pigfucker. So the proposal received no resistance, the room felt accomplished, and the meeting got adjourned. But wait, pump the brakes and jump in the moment here, Organized Diversity Hire Woman in the Room, the only source of real intelligence in the meeting (albeit hired solely in response to a webinar titled Don’t Get Sued: Hire Women), wants to know, “But where do we go from here?” Ugh, that bitch. Right, guys?
Bravo-Toaster probably gave her a quick, “We’ll just outsource that shit! Send it to an intern for design.” And once again, we’re all lights green, good to go. See ya on the golf course, boys! But that poor intern in design, lonely, untrained, and unsupervised, has no idea what she’s doing. She just learned Photoshop, like, yesterday, you know? She tries her best, but her color palate is all wrong, and her export settings get messed up, and next thing you know, the manufacturers in China, the ones working for pennies a week, a wage so vastly below livable that they couldn’t find the energy to muster a shit even if they tried, are producing two-toned “tie-dyed” bell peppers that look nothing like tie-dye. Bob, that pesky old Senior Vice President to the Administrative and Financial Chair, gets his prototype proof in the mail, but he doesn’t care, yelling out, “Fuck it! Send it to market anyway. The check’s already cleared!”
And long story short, that’s how you end up with bell peppers that look like that.