(Hit the jump to see the rest of the advertisement.)

Jogger: Yeah, you’re absolutely right. This garbage you put out isn’t worth even remotely as much as this woman here.
Hollywood: …Wait, what?
Boom Operator: Hah! You just got told!
Jogger: Although, come to think of it… if you continue to make garbage like this, and you continue to annoy people about how much of your huge fortunes you lose on piracy, she’ll be out of her job by the end of the year.
Boom Operator: Ouch. He has a point.
Jogger: So, I think I’ll take everything you have and sell it after all. Have fun with your inevitable bankruptcy.
Hollywood: But… who would make movies without us?
Jogger: With the money I make from selling this crap, I could buy a new microphone for my own studio.
Hollywood: Oh no. You have your own studio? But… what will happen to this woman here?
Jogger: Someone needs to operate the new microphone, right?
{The jogger turns toward the boom operator.}
Jogger: What do you say? Would you like to come work on a lower-budget movie instead? I mean, we can’t pay you as much as these guys can, but–
Boom Operator: Oh, don’t worry. These guys are barely paying me at all. The union’s about to go on strike.
Jogger: Excellent. Let’s go. By the way, what’s your name?
Boom Operator: Why don’t we ask Mr. Executive here? I mean, I’m on his payroll, right? What’s my name?
Hollywood: Uhhhh… it’s, um… Isabella?
Boom Operator: Nancy.
{Nancy and the jogger carry off all the DVDs.}
Hollywood: But… but… what you’re doing is stealing!
Jogger: From whom? Why can’t you just be honest? Am I stealing from people like Nancy, or stealing from people like you?
Hollywood: It doesn’t matter! You’re stealing! You’re making money by taking what doesn’t belong to you!
Jogger: Remember that the next time you take down someone’s website, or sue somebody for more than the damages they caused…
{Nancy turns toward the camera.}
Boom Operator: …or make an advertisement using our tax money.
{Nancy and the jogger walk off.}

Recently, I changed it to read, “Sandwich in frigate. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to board the frigate, hijack it, redirect it to the secret base, and reclaim your lunch. Good luck.”

Tonight, I changed it to read, “Sandwich in the frigid peaks of Nepal. Seek the mountain elder so that he may lead you to the sandwich you so desire.”

I’m trying to think of things I could write in the future, such as, “Sandwich in fright. Sandwich has recognized many revenants roaming the rooms of our ranch residence. Many benevolent, some malevolent. Sometimes magical, but of no kinds natural. They who haunt this house are hungry. They don’t desire to eat you, but they do desire Sandwich. Sandwich in fright.”

Another possibility would be, “Sandwich in friggin’ hole in backyard. I buried it ’cause you’re a jerk. Go dig up your stinkin’ sandwich, you fat, stupid jerk!”

If you have any other suggestions, please leave me a comment below. Rock out!