Crunch: The Headquarters
Writing Exercise #28
I thought it would be fun to do a satirical day at the office for Substack HQ. Let me be absolutely clear: THIS IS SATIRE INTENDED FOR HUMOR. This is not real and while names and likenesses have been used, any resemblance to the real people is unintentional and a coincidence. I don’t know any of them personally and I don’t even know the location of their office. The whole reason I find this funny is because it feels like the opposite of what the people and company are like. Again: THIS IS SATIRE INTENDED FOR HUMOR.
If you have ideas for Prompts, Crunches, Sprints, Relays, or other writing exercises in the future, please leave them in the comments! If you would like to write your own take for this exercise, please comment with a link so that I can see what you wrote and support your work, maybe even share your version with my subscribers. Please let me know if you have any thoughts, comments, or constructive criticisms as well!
Enjoy!
Crunch: Write about Substack HQ
Chris Best met Hamish McKenzie on the helipad. “How was your flight?”
Hamish laughed, “I caught up on everything published to Substack last month.”
“Everything?”
“What, you don’t read everything? What kind of executive are you?”
“Normally I would but I was having a new pool installed for my money.”
“The Scrooge McDuck model?”
“That’s the one. Listen, I appreciate you coming here on short notice from your studio in Montana. We’ve got a problem, and we need all hands.”
“Honestly I am just happy to be out in the daytime, keeping New Zealand hours is a drag. What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you when we arrive.”
They had walked from the helipad to the glass elevator. As they descended they looked out into the glass windows of each floor. They could see each department.
Customer service had red alarms going off and people in lab coats with glasses running frantically all over. Papers were flying through the air. “Boffins keeping busy, I see.” Chris observed.
User Experience Design was impossible to see due to the cloud of smoke. Grey shadows moved back and forth in the fog. “Mills must be doing interviews.” Hamish quipped.
The bartender in the Community Relations department looked busy making a row of margaritas. “Office hours day?”
“Yes, that’s it.” Chris said.
The elevator chimed—Writer Relations. Chris led Hamish out and into the floor.
Dayne intercepted them on the floor. “Did you tell him yet, Chris?”
“I was waiting for you. Go ahead.”
“We’ve got a big problem, Mr. McKenzie.”
“Please, please, Mr. McKenzie was my father. Call me ‘Sir’.”
“Yes, sir. We’ve got a big problem, sir.”
“What’s going on?”
“Likes are way down. Our AI algorithm that directs new subscribers to the publications we’ve chosen has stopped working as well—subscriptions are scattering far and wide with no sense of order. And they aren’t reacting as much to the publications they are choosing!”
Hamish was puzzled. “That is a problem. Good thing you called me in. Do we have any new features to roll out?”
“No, the DM system isn’t ready—the slide isn’t smooth enough, still trying to make that easier.”
“We need to get on top of our AI. That should be priority number one. How can our engine of culture generate any economic benefits for us if it is broken?”
Chris nodded. “You’re right. Who can we call?”
“Nick @ Substack?”
“Is that what he does?”
“I thought so. What does he do?”
“Every annual review he has assured me he is indispensable.”
“Can he fix this?”
“Maybe…if he can’t maybe we just blame him?”
“You’re right—every corporate initiative needs a scapegoat. Call him in.”
Dayne rushed away to find Nick while Chris and Hamish sat down in their massage chairs overlooking downtown San Francisco. A server brought them champagne flutes.
They clinked their glasses. Chris said, “Another day in—”
“WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE.” Hamish interrupted, and then upended the glass, draining his champagne.
(500 words-ish I do what I want)
The Promptee Has Become The Promptor
Your feedback helps to improve my writing. I would really appreciate a comment on your thoughts on this writing exercise. Consider telling me your thoughts about:
Isn’t it cool that substack people are so visible and accessible?
If you had a million dollars where would you put your Scrooge McDuck money-pool?
What would you order at Substack’s Community Relations bar?
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy! Come back next week for another writing exercise!
Hey, before you go—have you read my recently published Serial, SANDBOX EARTH yet? You can buy a hardcopy too! Check it out at the link!
God bless!
lmfao!!!! literally loling, died at “Please, please, Mr. McKenzie was my father. Call me ‘Sir’.” And basically this is a documentary; it’s like you’ve been embedded. (Honestly the only real delta is that we’re rarely all together; about 70% of the company is remote, so we rarely get to have fun walk and talk / all hands on deck moments!).
Scoot have you ever listened to Cabin Pressure? Seems like your sense of humor, and James and I need other people to listen to it and get our dumb jokes.