At precisely 8:55 a.m., Albert Grimshaw, sixty-two, ex-operations manager, and renowned expert in the art of saying precisely what he meant, walked into the boardroom of Larkspur Solutions Ltd. He had been employed under circumstances still unclear to him, possibly due to an HR clerical error or a desperate act of charity by a well-meaning intern. Regardless, it was his first day, and he intended to give it a fair shot.
He took a seat at the long, unnecessarily glossy table, nodding stiffly at the assembled figures, most of whom were either aggressively youthful or the kind of middle-aged that involved Botox. A plate of croissants sat in the centre, untouched, as though part of a ritualistic sacrifice.
The CEO, a man named Gavin Meek, who exuded the charisma of a damp flannel, cleared his throat. Beside him, his Marketing Director, a woman named Tamsin with hair so precisely engineered it could have been a structural component, leaned forward.
“Alright team,” Meek began, “today’s about blue-sky thinking and really drilling down into our core competencies. We need to leverage our key strengths, align our brand synergies, and, at the end of the day, ensure we’re not just thinking outside the box but redefining the box itself.”
Albert frowned. He had understood perhaps four words in that entire sentence, and three of them were “at the end.”
Tamsin nodded vigorously. “Absolutely, Gavin. The key takeaway here is holistic engagement. We’re talking seamless integration of our verticals, creating an ecosystem where touchpoints drive engagement. The brand narrative has to be compelling, authentic, and—crucially—disruptive.”
Albert blinked. His hands tightened on the arms of his chair.
Meek smiled the empty, self-satisfied smile of a man who had just inhaled his own nonsense. “That’s the spirit, Tamsin. And let’s not forget, we need to incentivise proactivity, optimise our outreach, and double down on our thought leadership.”
Albert’s teeth ground audibly.
Tamsin nodded sagely. “Yes, we need to circle back on that. Future-proofing is critical. We must ensure our KPIs align with our holistic vision for the brand space.”
Something inside Albert snapped. He slammed his hands on the table, making the croissants jump.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” he bellowed, his voice echoing around the boardroom like a furious foghorn.
The room fell silent. A junior executive in the corner looked as though he might cry.
Meek’s mouth flapped like a stranded fish. Tamsin, unperturbed, steepled her fingers and regarded Albert with the condescension of someone who had read one too many LinkedIn posts.
“I understand this can be a lot to take in, Albert,” she said smoothly. “But this is the language of innovation.”
“No, it bloody isn’t!” Albert roared. “It’s the language of people who haven’t had a real job in their lives! ‘Touchpoints’? ‘Ecosystems’? ‘Future-proofing’? What the hell does any of this mean? Do we sell something? Do we make something? What do we actually do?!”
A long, awkward pause.
Meek cleared his throat. “We, uh, provide bespoke solutions.”
Albert’s nostrils flared. “For what?”
Tamsin leaned forward, her smile tightening. “For businesses looking to optimise their brand engagement.”
Albert’s eyes twitched. “So we… talk about talking?”
Meek hesitated, then nodded. “Essentially, yes.”
Albert stood up so fast his chair screeched against the polished floor. He exhaled slowly, like a volcano contemplating an eruption. Then he turned, walked to the door, and wrenched it open.
“Where are you going?” Meek called after him.
“To find a job,” Albert snarled, “that doesn’t require a lobotomy.”
With that, he marched out, slamming the door behind him.
Tamsin exhaled. “Well. That was unexpected.”
Meek sighed. “A shame. He could have been a real asset.”
The junior executive sniffled. “Does this mean I can have his croissant?”
No one answered. The meeting resumed.