How To Get Ahead In Advertising...
written by Bruce Robinson

Dennis Dimbleby Bagley: Let me try and clarify some of this for you. Best Company Supermarkets are not interested in selling wholesome foods, they are not worried about the nation's health. What is concerning them, is that the nation appears to be getting worried about its health, and THAT is what's worrying BestCo, because BestCo wants to go on selling them what it always has, i.e. the white breads, baked beans, canned foods, and that suppurating, fat squirting little heart attack traditionally known as the British sausage. So, how can we help them with that? Clearly, we are looking for a label. We need a label brimming with health, and everything from a nosh pot to a white sliced will wear one with pride. And although I'm aware of the difficulties of coming to terms with this, it must be appreciated from the beginning that even the nosh pot must be low in something, and if it isn't, it must be high in something else, and that is it's health giving ingredient we will sell. Which brings me to my final question: Who are we trying to sell this to? Answer: We are trying to sell this to the archetypal average housewife, she who fills her basket. What you have here is a 22 year old pretty girl - what you need is a taut slob, something on foot deodorizers, in a brassiere. (laughter)
Student: I'm not quite sure I can go along with that Mr Bagley, I mean if you look at, like, the market research...
Bagley: I don't need to look at the market research, I've lived with thirteen and a half million housewives for fifteen years and I know everything about them. She's 37 years old, she has 2.3 children, 1.6 of which will be girls. She uses 16 feet 6 inches of toilet tissue a week, and fucks no more than 4.2 times a month. She has 7 radiators, and is worried about her weight, which is why we have her on a diet. And because we have her on a diet, we also encourage her to reward herself with the little treats, and she deserves them, cause anyone existing on 1200 calories of artificial synthetic orange-flavoured waffle a day, deserves a little treat. We know it's naughty but you do deserve it, go on darling swallow a bun! And she does. And the instant she does, the guilt cuts in. So here we are again with our diet. It's a vicious but quite wonderful circle, and it adheres to only one rule: whatever it is, sell it. And if you want to stay in advertising, by God you'd better learn that!

Businessman 1 (Donald Hoath): I see the police have made another lightning raid... Paddington drug orgy.
Priest (Gordon Gostelow): I suppose young girls was involved?
Businessman 1: (reading the newspaper) One discovered naked in the kitchen...breasts smeared with peanut butter. The police took away a bag containing 15 grams of cannabis resin... it may also contain a quantity of heroin.
Bagley: Or a pork pie.
Businessman 1: I beg your pardon.
Bagley: I said the bag may also have contained a pork pie.
Businessman 1: I hardly see a pork pie's got anything to do with it.
Bagley: Alright then, what about a large turnip. It might also have contained a big turnip.
Priest: The bag was full of drugs.
Bagley: Nonsense.
Priest: The bag was full of drugs, it says so.
Bagley: The bag could've been full of anything. Pork pies, turnips, oven parts... it's the oldest trick in the book.
Priest: What book?
Bagley: The distortion of truth by association book. The word is "may." You all believe heroin was in the bag because cannabis resin was in the bag. The bag may have contained heroin, but the chances are 100 to 1 certain that it didn't.
Businessman 1: A lot more likely than what you say.
Bagley: About as likely as the tits spread with peanut butter.
Businessman 2 (John Levitt): Do you mind?
Priest: The tits WERE spread with peanut butter!
Bagley: Nonsense.
Priest: It says so! Who's the man you are to think you know more about it than the press?
Bagley: I'm an expert on tits. Tits and peanut butter. I'm also an expert drug pusher... I've been pushing drugs for 20 years...
Businessman 2: Look here, I've had enough of this.
Bagley: ...And I can tell you a pusher protects his pitch. We want to sell them cigarettes, and don't like competition, see? So we associate a relatively innocuous drug with one that is extremely dangerous, and the rags go along with it because they adore the dough from the ads.
Businessman 2: I've had enough of this, I'm getting off at Datchet.
Bagley: Getting off at Datchet won't help you, getting off anywhere won't help you! I've had an octopus squatting on my brain for a fortnight, and I suddenly see that I am the only one that can help you. It'd be pointless to go into the reasons why, but I've been worried sick about boils for a fortnight. Large boils, small boils, fast eruptors... they incurable, all of them! I know that, and so does everybody else, until they get one, then the rules suddenly change. With a boil on the nose there's a sudden overnight surge in faith. They want to believe something will work. He knows that which is why he gets a good look in with the dying. Sells 'em hope you see? But these boys would be forced down into real estate if anyone came up with a genuine cure for death.
Priest: Good God, this is a madman!
Bagley: What do you know about God you wire-haired mick? Here have 'em! (throws cigarettes) I've given up!
(The (train leaves the platform with Bagley, leaving the other three men on the platform)

Kudos and much thanks go to James for these monologues, it is very much appreciated.

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