Chapter 81

Chapter 81

So, where do we start? he asked honestly.

How about with the facts and with the truth? said the kid on the adjacent stationary bike, cranking out a consistent and smooth 103 revolutions per minute.

Cut to the chase, eh?

Time is running out, you wanna fuck around or move up?

OK.

OK, what?

Let's talk.

Go.

You said you have a plan.

I do.

Care to share?

The kid pulled the earpod closest to the Director of Marketing out, turned his head to look vis a vis, took a deep breath, and said: Change, adaptation, innovation, risk. Ees simple as that senor.

We're already doing that the DoM replied, defending his current, failing, marketing strategy, a plan he seemed to want to defend to the death.

The kid exploded in laughter, an entertaining combination of sincere mirth and mocking bird like screeching sarcasm. Really?

The DoM knew he was had. They were losing market share faster than a football team with a porous defense loses games. The economy was bad, and that hurt too. But the hardest part was the realization and reality that their software, once a "decent" part of the product, was now so woefully outdated and bland, it made VHS look hi-tech.

We don't know where to go or what to do, he finally muttered as if he was pleading guilty to murder one on the stand.

You're in luck, said the kid, upping his cadence to 125 with little apparent effort.

I am? he said.

No. We are, corrected the kid.