“We exist to progressively leverage existing world-class total linkage in order that we may efficiently develop low-risk, high-yield e-business with 100% on-time delivery.”
Bernard Brightman, acting sales manager for Hayter Hair Products, held up a plaque to his staff. “What do you think?”
Emily popped her bubble-gum and walked out muttering. The remaining employees just looked at each other. Silence descended on the staff room.
“Well?” Bernard eyed them, his face slowly hang-dogging. “Does anyone have anything to say? This is important, guys. Mister Hayter is visiting to sign this off.”
Emily stuck her head around the door. “It’s gibberish, Bernard.”
“Well,” said Bernard, “that’s what we expect from the warehouse. Whilst we in sales have a mission, you just turn up and take your pay. No vision, Emily, absolutely no vision.”
“That’s unkind, Bernard,” Tony Sadiq said, “without Em getting our deliveries out on time, we’d be in a right jam.”
“That’s right,” Emily winked at Tony, “you’d be screwed. Anyway, Hayter’s not coming here to sign off your mission statement. Ali at HQ told me he has two reasons. To fill the sales manager vacancy, and to rationalise headcount in line with modern business practices, which is bollocks-talk for sackings.”
Bernard stood stock still, staring at Emily as she popped her bubble-gum again. “Sackings? That can’t be true, we’ve achieved global standards in an increasingly competitive Euro-Theatre downturn.”
“Have you, bollocks?” Emily rolled her eyes. “I see what’s going out the door and since Paul cleared off, it’s gone from a gush to a dribble.”
Bernard slumped into his chair. “But…”
He started to speak, but for once words eluded him and visions of being shown the door, having to tell his wife, begging the bank not to foreclose, all swam menacingly before him.
“What can we do?”
“Well,” Emily said, “you can stop buggering around with gibberish and start doing some actual selling.”
“But we’re following the ten-point, double-bagger, sure-close sales method to the letter. I don’t know what else we can do.”
“That, Bernard, is exactly the problem,” said Emily. “Look, leave it to me. My sister is in the hair dressing game. I’ll have a word.”
The next day, the phones starting ringing and orders flooded in. They passed the regional sales record by eleven and after lunch, the European sales record fell to the tide of Bernard’s order taking. By close of business, ties were off, sleeves rolled up, and the sales bell clanged continuously.
Emily poked her head around the door to the sales office. “How’s it going, Bern?”
“Through the roof, Emily,” he gasped as he wrote up another order, “through the proverbial roof.”
She winked.
“How did you do it?”
“Easy,” she said. “I told my sister Marco Products are going bust. It was all round the county by lunchtime.”
“But they’re not,” Bernard looked mortified, “that’s an outright lie.”
“That,” said Emily with a wink, “is progressive leveraging, Bernard. You just need a bit of vision.”
