(Scene:  A smoky boardroom.  Three men sit at a polished wooden table together.  The Boss sits at the head of the table, behind a console with non-descript white buttons, while Marketer 1 and 2 sit on either side of the table, anxiously.)

Boss:  Well, it’s strawberry season again, and the head honchos in product development have come up with their surefire hit for the summer.

Marketers 1 & 2:  Dear God.

Boss:  Yep, and now it’s up to us to give it a name.  I want you both to look at this thing and give me the first word thought that pops into your head.  If your idea is ridiculously lame, you will immediately be put to death, as per the standard operating procedures instituted to prevent another “steeped tea” campaign.

(Marketers 1 & 2 nod gravely.)

Boss:  All right, and… go.

Marketers 1 & 2 together:  Sex / Poetry!

Boss:  Which one of you said sex?  Explain yourself.

Marketer 1:  Well, so, the donut is shaped like a flower, right?  And flowers are kind of a symbol of spring, they get you thinking about spring, and spring is when a young man’s fancy turns to love!  That got me thinking about my wife, and how both my wife and I were virgins when I married her, which you’d think was great until we actually had sex and then it was messy and awkward and uncomfortable and we felt really disappointed and frankly pretty ripped-off, just like how our customers are going to feel right after they bit into this donut.

Boss:  And…?

Marketer 1:  And… sex sells?

(The Boss stabs one of the white buttons.  The floor opens beneath Marketer 2, dumping him into a vat of volcanically hot day-old coffee, incinerating him.  The vat drains into a truck labelled “ALWAYS FRESH”, destined for a nearby drive-thru.)

Boss:  You:  Poetry.  Explain.

Marketer 2:  Okay, well, again — it’s floral.  You can’t miss that, looks like a flower.  Bright red flower.

Boss:  And that’s poetic how?

Marketer 2:  Well… and it’s got the red jam there in the middle and then it’s coated with white stuff, plus it’s sticky and really difficult to eat and a bit intimidating really, and when you think that in traditional poetry flowers are a metaphor for the vaginaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!

(Marketer 2 trails off in a scream as The Boss stabs another white button, dumping Marketer 3 into a grinder marked, “ICED CAPPUCCUINO FORMULA”)

Boss:  …flower, eh?  “Fruit Flower Donut”?  No, too gay.  “Strawberry Flower Donut”?  No, too confusing with the other kind of flour.  “Strawberry Blossom Donut?”  Yes! I’ve done it again. God damn it, I’m so creative it actually hurts me.

(The Boss presses the final white button.)

Boss:  Sherri?  Yeah, let Mr. Horton know that we’re ready to launch.  Oh!  And tell them to call Queen’s — we need some fresh MBAs.  I used mine up again.

(Fin.)