Fred Aiken Writing

Tag: commercial

May 1, 2023

The Crushing Weight of The Toothbrush Commercial Massacre; A Random Event with Random Consequences

Gary guzzles another ounce of mouthwash. It simmers in his throat before he feels the sting. He’s been abusing mouthwash for five years, ever since The Toothbrush Commercial Massacre. 

The director wanted an exotic commercial, so he goes to Brazil to find a mixed samba-capoeira instructor. He brought back Juliana Nayará, a savant in dance and fighting choreography. It was like watching the reincarnation of Terpsichore. Tendrils from her floral skirt electrified the stage. Gary was in love.

While performing warm-up dances to impressionistic jazz, Juliana and troupe fell victim to a rogue stage light. Everyone died. Gary never touched another toothbrush.

October 28, 2021

Filming a Commercial for My Soul

boxed in by the sunlight as eyelids fold over in slow motion, rewind, freeze framed,

replay, redo, restitution sitting on the couch waiting for the call that we’re ready for you, come on in,

don’t be shy, don’t frighten easy, but look as if you do, it’s a lot sexier when you fake fear than an orgasm,

but probably less effective in the long run,

past its prime, past date, rotate, find another place on the shelf, in the back with all the other forgotten

items stuck to the abyss to be discarded at some point, one day, whenever we get around to it,

recycled into a lithium powered wash cycle rinsing off grime that never wants to leave, sit, stay, rollover for the cameras,

just don’t look directly at the lens, don’t pout,

looked scared, then smile