Rabid Reality

No Doubt Rabid’s plans to get into the vodcasting market by turning the shop into the film set for a virtual reality show.

Well, it took slightly longer than expected due to all the electioneering and then we got further distracted with dreams of becoming a media mogul. All that nonsense came to nothing when we realised we couldn’t even afford to go skiing over moguls, let alone become one ourselves.

But turning the shop into a virtual reality film set was much easier than we expected. For starters, the place is generally full of ne’er do well time-wasters who are only here to play the latest video games without buying them. It wasn’t hard to convince them to join the show, as soon as we withheld the DVDs for the latest release of Grand Theft Auto.

Our legal representative assures us it isn’t technically blackmail unless we ask for money.

That got the cast sorted out. We didn’t need to do much to the shop apart from blacking out the front windows, installing a few lounges, a bathroom, a shower, a kitchen and some beds. We soon converted the storeroom into an isolation room for badly behaved shoppers, and instead of a booming loudspeaker system we just poked a hole in the back wall to shout through.

As long as we remember to use the Darth Vader voice box, it sounds scary enough.

At least the stray cats in the back alley seem to think so.

Now the idea of the Rabid Reseller Reality Show is to see which customers can keep their cool under relentless sales pressure. Anyone who agrees to buy before they’ve wrangled at least a 15 percent discount is straight out the door.

Those who can manage 20 percent join the select few, and whether they stay will depend on the number of votes they get on Rabid’s Reality Reseller website. Of course, this is just a distraction. The real action is happening in the front of the shop.

Away from the film set, all those shoppers who’ve been evicted early for agreeing to only a 15 percent discount will discover they have actually agreed to buy the technology they were haggling over – using their own real money.

Sorry dudes, that virtual money only works backstage. Sure, some of them seemed a little grumpy at first, but a quick offer of preferential voting for the remaining shoppers soon got them back onside. Anyway, they should have read their contracts before they signed the things.

Unfortunately we’ve struck a minor problem with the ending of
the show. Apparently, the last surviving shopper has been promised they can walk away with whatever they can fit into their shopping trolley in 15 minutes.

We’d planned to make a special edition out of their feeble attempts to prise anything off the shelves. This idea rapidly degenerated into financial grief when we discovered the superglue we got on special was well past its use-by-date.

Well, the tubes we used on the stock had certainly expired. Anybody got any advice for separating elbows from
shop counters?

Gotta go! Customers waiting!

rabid reality sales & marketing