Jennifer Government Part 1

JENNIFER GOVERNMENT.

by Max Barry.

Author's note

There are a lot of real company names and trademarks in this book, most in situations you are unlikely to see on the covers of any annual reports. That's because this is a novel, and the things that happen in it aren't true. This may seem obvious enough to you, but some people (whom we shall call "lawyers") get very uptight when you describe large corporations masterminding murders. So let's be clear: this is a work of fiction. The actions depicted are not real nor based on real events. Any resemblance to actual people is coincidental. And the use of real company and product names is for literary effect only and definitely without permission.

PART ONE

1 Nike

Hack first heard about Jennifer Government at the water-cooler. He was only there because the one on his floor was out; Legal was going to come down on Nature's Springs like a ton of s.h.i.+t, you could bet on that. Hack was a Merchandise Distribution Officer. This meant when Nike made up a bunch of posters, or caps, or beach towels, Hack had to send them to the right place. Also, if someone called up complaining about missing posters, or caps, or beach towels, Hack had to take the call. It wasn't as exciting as it used to be.

"It's a calamity calamity," a man at the watercooler said. "Four days away from launch and Jennifer Government's all over my a.s.s."

"Jee-sus," his companion said. "That's gotta suck."

"It means we have to move fast." He looked at Hack, who was filling his cup. "Hi there."

Hack looked up. They were smiling at him as if he was an equalbut of course, Hack was on the wrong floor. They didn't know he was just a Merc Officer. "Hi."

"Haven't seen you around before," the calamity calamity guy said. "You new?" guy said. "You new?"

"No. I work in Merc."

"Oh." His nose wrinkled.

"Our cooler's out," Hack said. He turned away quickly.

"Hey, wait up," the suit said. "You ever do any marketing work?"

"Uh," he said, not sure if this was a joke. "No."

The suits looked at each other. The calamity calamity guy shrugged. Then they stuck out their hands. "I'm John Nike, Guerrilla Marketing Operative, New Products." guy shrugged. Then they stuck out their hands. "I'm John Nike, Guerrilla Marketing Operative, New Products."

"And I'm John Nike, Guerrilla Marketing Vice-President, New Products," the other suit said.

"Hack Nike," Hack said, shaking.

"Hack, I'm empowered to make midrange labor-contracting decisions," Vice-President John said. "You interested in some work?"

"Some..." He felt his throat thicken. "Marketing work?"

"On a case-by-case basis, of course," the other John said.

Hack started to cry.

"There," a John said, handing him a handkerchief. "You feel better?"

Hack nodded, shamed. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Vice-President John said. "Career change can be very stressful. I read that somewhere."

"Here's the paperwork." The other John handed him a pen and a sheaf of papers. The first page said CONTRACT TO PERFORM SERVICE, and the others were in type too small to read.

Hack hesitated. "You want me to sign this now?"

"It's nothing to worry about. Just the usual noncompetes and nondisclosure agreements."

"Yeah, but..." Companies were getting a lot tougher on labor contracts these days; Hack had heard stories. At Adidas, if you quit your job and your replacement wasn't as competent, they sued you for lost profits.

"Hack, we need someone who can make snap decisions. A fast mover."

"Someone who can get things done. With a minimum of f.u.c.king around."

"If that's not your style, well...let's forget we spoke. No harm done. You stick to Merchandising." Vice-President John reached for the contract.

"I can sign it now," Hack said, tightening his grip.

"It's totally up to you," the other John said. He took the chair beside Hack, crossed his legs, and rested his hands at the juncture, smiling. Both Johns had good smiles, Hack noticed. He guessed everyone in marketing did. They had pretty similar faces, too. "Just at the bottom there."

Hack signed.

"Also there," the other John said. "And on the next page...and one there. And there."

"Glad to have you on board, Hack." Vice-President John took the contract, opened a drawer, and dropped it inside. "Now. What do you know about Nike Mercurys?"

Hack blinked. "They're our latest product. I haven't actually seen a pair, but...I heard they're great."

The Johns smiled. "We started selling Mercurys six months ago. You know how many pairs we've s.h.i.+fted since then?"

Hack shook his head. They cost thousands of dollars a pair, but that wouldn't stop people from buying them. They were the hottest sneakers in the world. "A million?"

"Two hundred."

"Two hundred million?"

"No. Two hundred pairs."

"John here," the other John said, "pioneered the concept of marketing by refusing to sell any products. It drives the market insane insane."

"And now it's time to cash in. On Friday we're gonna dump four hundred thousand pairs on the market at two and a half grand each."

"Which, since they cost us what was it?"

"Eighty-five."

"Since they cost us eighty-five cents to manufacture, gives us a gross margin of around one billion dollars." He looked at Vice-President John. "It's a brilliant campaign."

"It's really just common sense," John said. "But here's the thing, Hack: if people realize every mall in the country's got Mercurys, we'll lose all that prestige we've worked so hard to build. Am I right?"

"Yeah." Hack hoped he sounded confident. He didn't really understand marketing.

"So you know what we're going to do?"

He shook his head.

"We're going to shoot them," Vice-President John said. "We're going to kill anyone who buys a pair."

Silence. "What?" Hack said.

The other John said, "Well, not everyone, obviously. We figure we only have to plug...what did we decide? Five?"

"Ten," Vice-President John said. "To be safe."

"Right. We take out ten customers, make it look like ghetto kids, and we've got street cred coming out our a.s.ses. I bet we s.h.i.+ft our inventory within twenty-four hours."

"I remember when you could always rely on those little street kids to pop a few people for the latest Nikes," Vice-President John said. "Now people get mugged for Reeboks, for Adidasfor generics generics, for Christ's sake."

"The ghettos have no fas.h.i.+on sense anymore," the other John said. "I swear, they'll wear anything."

"It's a disgrace. Anyway, Hack, I think you get the point. This is a groundbreaking campaign."

"Talk about edgy," the other John said. "This defines defines edgy." edgy."

"Um..." Hack said. He swallowed. "Isn't this kind of...illegal?"

"He wants to know if it's illegal," the other John said, amused. "You're a funny guy, Hack. Yes, it's illegal, killing people without their consent, that's very illegal."

Vice-President John said, "But the question is: what does it cost? Even if we get found out, we burn a few million on legal fees, we get fined a few million more...bottom-line, we're still way out in front."

Hack had a question he very much didn't want to ask. "So...this contract...what does it say I'll do?"

The John beside him folded his hands. "Well, Hack, we've explained our business plan. What we want you to do is..."

"Execute it," Vice-President John said.

2 McDonalds

Until she stood in front of them, Hayley didn't realize how many of her cla.s.smates were blond. It was like a beach out there. She'd missed the trend. Hayley would have to hotfoot it to a hairdresser after school.

"When you're ready," the teacher said.

She looked at her note cards and took a breath. "Why I Love America, by Hayley McDonald's. America is the greatest group of countries in the world because we have freedom. In countries like France, where the Government isn't privatized, they still have to pay tax and do whatever the Government says, which would really suck. In USA countries, we respect individual rights and let people do whatever they want."

The teacher jotted something in his folder. McDonald's-sponsored schools were cheap like that: at Pepsi schools, everyone had notebook computers. Also their uniforms were much better. It was so hard to be cool with the Golden Arches on your back.

"Before USA countries abolished tax, if you didn't have a job, the Government took money from working people and gave it to you. So, like, the more useless you were, the more money you got." No response from her cla.s.smates. Even the teacher didn't smile. Hayley was surprised: she'd thought that one was a crack-up.

"But now America has all the best companies and all the money because everyone works and the Government can't spend money on stupid things like advertising and elections and making new laws. They just stop people stealing or hurting each other and everything else is taken care of by the private sector, which everyone knows is more efficient." She looked at her notes: yep, that was it. "Finally I would like to say that America is the greatest group of countries in the world and I am proud to live in the Australian Territories of the USA!"

A smattering of applause. It was the eighth talk this period: she guessed it was getting harder to work up enthusiasm for capitalizm. Hayley headed for her seat.

"Hold it," the teacher said. "I have questions."

"Oh," Hayley said.

"Are there any positive aspects to tax?"

She relaxed: a gimme question. "Some people say tax is good because it gives money to people who don't have any. But those people must be lazy or stupid, so why should they get other people's money? Obviously the answer is no."

The teacher blinked. He made a note. That must have been an impressive answer, Hayley thought. "What about social justice?"

"What?"

"Is it fair that some people should be rich while others have nothing?"

She s.h.i.+fted from one foot to the other. She was just remembering: this teacher had a thing about poor people. He was always bringing them up. "Um, yeah, it's fair. Because if I study really hard for a test and get an A and Emily doesn't and fails"renewed interest from the cla.s.s; Emily raised blond eyebrows"then it's not fair to take some of my marks and give them to her, is it?"

The teacher frowned. Hayley felt a flash of panic. "Another thing, in non-USA countries they want everyone to be the same, so if your sister is born blind, then they blind you, too, to make it even. But how unfair is that? I would much rather be an American than a European Union...person." She gave the cla.s.s a big smile. They clapped, much more enthusiastically than before. She added hopefully, "Is that all?"

"Yes. Thank you."

Relief! She started walking. A cute boy in the third row winked at her.