Another Thing That Sprays

It was hour ten of the Shark product development brainstorming meeting, and so far the best idea anyone had come up with was a micro-vacuum calibrated specifically to deal with gerbil hair.

“What about a vacuum just for rice?” said Jerry.

“Or a vacuum just for frozen peas?” said Marty.

“No, no, no,” said Sandra, the department’s head. “None of these things sound good. It’s time.” She turned to a man in a leather jacket, smoking a cigarette in the corner, against company policy. “Johnson, I know you’re the bad boy of product development, and that you constantly clash with management due to your maverick approach to your work, but you always have great ideas. For example, when we launched our first vacuum all those years ago, and we were planning on having the suction be really bad, it was you who famously said, ‘Hey, what if we made the suction really good, instead?’ But you’ve been quiet this whole time. We need you, Johnson. We need you now more than ever. So what’s going on? Why have you said a thing?”

“Because you asked for ideas for a new vacuum,” Johnson said, stubbing out his cigarette right on the table.

“And?” Sandra said.

“And my crazy idea? It’s not a vacuum at all,” Johnson said, putting on a pair of sunglasses. “It’s the opposite of the vacuum.”

“A device that produces dust, grit, and pet hair?” Said Jerry.

“I don’t think that’d be very popular,” said Marty.

“No,” said Johnson, shaping his sideburns with a straight razor. “I’m saying, we make things that suck. So why don’t we turn that technology around and make something that blows, you dig?”

“So,” Sandra said, “your crazy idea is… a fan?”

“Not exactly,” Johnson said, shaking himself an old-fashioned.

“Oh, thank god, because that would be disappointing after all this time,” Sandra said. “But I should’ve known you’d never offer up something so simple. No, your ideas are always truly mind-blowing, super innovative. You’d pitch something absolutely unheard of, like–”

“A cordless fan that sprays some cool mist,” Johnson said, playing high-stakes blackjack against himself.

“Okay, actually it was pretty much a fan,” Sandra said. “I mean, I’m ready to be done, so it sounds good to me. You guys?”

“Sure,” said Marty.

“Why not,” said Jerry.

“Cool, a misting fan it is,” said Sandra. “Let’s go to the bar.”