The Three Pronged Chocolate Extinction Plan

Tuesday, July 6th: 8:34 PM EST

As Hoboken, New Jersey begins to succumb to the drowsiness of dusk, the temperature has just dipped to a mild and breezy 74 degrees. The sidewalk traffic has slowed to a crawl, the majority of which consists of the nightly restaurant exodus in full swing. With the sun's golden rays lightening, just moments away from nesting for the evening; it's next to impossible to imagine someone, within this impressionistic Monet living canvas, possessing a Defcon 3 sense of urgency toward anything right? WRONG! Less than 50 paces from this street corner, seated at the lonely 4 top island of a table in the back room labeled "private" of a nondescript and "will remain nameless" tavern, a top---tip top secret meeting is seconds away from opening it's minutes to discuss and call the shots that will decide the fateful future of the entire planet.

"Thank you all, for making this short notice but tantamount meeting a priority. The first of many, that I believe will save the world. First, I have a question for you both---I'll start with introductions that I have worked extensively on and will handle solely---so, hello! I am the chair of this group---the Count---The Count of Chocula-"

"Now come on! That is the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard anyone utter period in a professional setting!!! And furthermore...why am I still in the wasteland that is craigslist? This better not be some weird sex orgy multi-level marketing scheme or something! You made this sound like a confectioner's business opportunity...you are not a kid's cereal mascot; that's not your name and what of this question?"

"You're on thin ice! This close to a demerit, don't think I didn't draw up demerit slips mister. Tonight in this tavern's back room that most certainly is my name! This is a top secret---DOUBLE TOP SECRET MEETING! The Count of Chocula is my alias and I've taken the liberty of "alias-ing" you as well but after that outburst I'm changing yours to something humiliating---you're now Fudge Chocosexual. Oh yes and my question---madame, your code name is: Chocolat Fannytime".

"NONONO!", said Chocolat Fannytime.

"What?! What's wrong with Fannytime? It's a compliment."

"NONONO!", Chocolat Fannytime repeated.

"Now you listen here. It's either "Fannytime" or "Raw Cookie Dough". You keep interrupting my question, plus I do the names---I called the meeting, I made it double top secret, so I'm the only one who does the names and that's final! These aliases are for your protection. This meeting is so double top secret it doesn't even have a name."

"I won't sit here and be sexually harassed nor will I allow you to give me an alias. If you insist on code names---I've always been fond of Mrs. Butterworth. Didn't you say you had a question?"

"Whatever, don't threaten a lawsuit 'til you've answered my question and fully realize my genius, it's time to talk the business of doing business. As I hope you both are aware, in 2017, Business Insider Magazine, citing a team of scientists working with the Chocolatier Mars Corporation, published the extinction date of chocolate as 2050. Of course, these facts were immediately rebutted by an barrage of several publications attacking the Mars Corporation and their esteemed team of scientists. Essentially calling it 'a bunch 'a "whoey", "horse patooky", and "'a ton 'a slippery slop sloppy!

In other words, a misleading, ill-begotten fake news miscommunication? So let me get this up my alley right here and straightened out---a loosely connected gang of no-talent hack reporters with no scientific credentials north of red hot gaming action every year at their annual kindergarten paste eating contest held in one of their parent's backyard oak tree clubhouses; these sad sacks are telling us that Mars and a entire team of scientists misappropriated words in their published study? These sad sacks of paste puke are trying to humiliate a team of world renown top scientists? The Mars scientists!? Who do science!? And the largest chocolatier/candy corporation on the planet!? We're up to our necks in thick---thick new conspiracy theories you can only look at on the "googles" and even then only with a limited edition mint condition red hammer and sickle Lenin themed decider ring".

"Get on with it Chocula!", Fudge Chocosexual said.

At that Chocula picked up his place setting's round cardboard coaster and chucked it with exponentially more melodramatic production then the daisy looping fluttering fling that plopped on Chocosexual's balding head, only to retreat, falling back to the table top.

"Pffft. Is that all you got "Count"?" scoffed Chocosexual.

"You're damn skippy Buster Brown and there's more where that came from! Plenty more so you better stop interrupting me and get with the program. It's time to unveil why I called you both here---my plan to keep us flush in chocolate well past 2050. It's a three pronged plan. Three prongs always make the best plans. Two words---well three, three words, three prongs. Chocolate pudding pond! We build a chocolate pudding pond!"

His words hang in the air for several beats as all three members of the double top secret tavern group looked back and forth at each other, the two invitees' mouths agape until finally Chocula's words had vacuumed enough stale beer scented air from the middle forum ground of the table, leaving them so little it was impossible not to gasp. "That's it? What is it?", both invitees asked in unison.

"That's the plan, that's the whole plan. I said it was a three prong plan---chocolate-pudding-pond, three prongs. Isn't it brilliant!"

"No---no, no. Are you wearing a hidden camera? We're streaming live to like a million people right now on youtube right? Why haven't you ask this mystery question yet!", asked Chocosexual.

"This is absolute lunacy, a waste of time, and that's right---out with this question?! Ask the damn question for god sakes so I can leave and never tell a soul I was here. The only reason I'm still interested is the 50/50 chance you ask something even more ludicrous than something about a hole in the ground filled with pudding." said Butterworth.

"You people are biased against chocolate pudding. You're "anti-puddits"! Spoiled little tushy tushy bottoms need "wiped-y"? Born with chocolate spoons in your mouths, possessing delicate palates, you'd probably both gag on pudding. Gated suburb rosy cheeked cherubs that only eat chocolate soufflé. What can I order you to stop your tantrums? A chocolate binky to suck on? Candy bars? Ice Cream? Chocolate chips? Ovaltine? Hot cocoa with marshmallows? Oh wait----how about Michelin four star chocolate cake?"

And with that Chocula raised his right hand as a maestro would standing before an orchestra and snapped his fingers, concussing the air with the loudest finger crack either one of them had ever heard. Tumbling over the top of Chocula's commanding snap, the door labeled "private" flew open ushering in two servers dressed in all black, the first hoisting a chocolate cake more proud than a wedding monthly's centerfold model, the second with plates and utensils in tow. "Compliments of the host, a thank you for falling for my trickery and not walking out.", Chocula said as the servers began cutting and serving slices of chocolate cake that moments ago could have been on display across the river in the museum of fine art.

"Now for my dangling question, how familiar are you both with game theory? The basics but specifically the principle of assuming the rationality of the players in the game?", asked Chocula.

Both guests momentarily contemplated before making distinct side to side head waving motions while saying "not enough", & "none" respectfully.

"To start properly, we're not in the business of chocolate or pudding ponds but if we were, we'd have less than 29 years from right now to get our business model refined and in ink. Least and lastly, allow me to formally introduce myself, I'm Michael Bushard, founder of Bushard Consulting and I've had my eye on you two as candidates for my firm awhile now, primarily because of your acumen in the psychology of advertising."

"Mr. Bushard thank you. It is an absolute honor to meet you" , said Butterworth.

"Absolutely, same here. You're a legend. This is surreal---is this how you conduct all your interviews?" asked Chocosexual.

"No, I like to mix it up but my topics of emphasis I browbeat so I trust that we're all on the same page from moment one. Like tonight with my mad scientist-type character that sounds like a lunatic. I want you both to be keenly aware before walking through the front door that our competition doesn't present as rational. They're irrational on purpose, there are many smoke screens in this game---the most important thing is to respect the talent we're up against and do not ever take them from granted. The moment we slack and get lazy---the first time we decide to "mail it in", we're a bobbing cadaver in the wake; flip the lights, lock the doors, and don't come back in the morning cause our campaign went down in flames, we're Amelia Earhart.

That said, I'm about to contradict myself so pay attention, there's two ways to look at our business: finite or infinite. How many years till chocolate goes extinct?"

"Less than 29 years", said the invitees speaking in unison again.

"Chocula's ideas may not have been on the path to super stardom tonight but I wanted him to convey drive, determination, an unconventional method, and an infinite outlook. A "win or die, no surrender" mentality because those types aren't thorns in our side but parasites with barred fangs, so get used to them because they bite down and aren't going anywhere. Their plan A is to bury us---they don't have a plan B. There are a lot of fly by night firms that pop up and flame out because they had an exit strategy drawn up before they knew what business they wanted to get into. Their business is exit strategy, they're wonderful at being the first out of the plane, first to open their parashoot, and you can't beat them at selling short, so don't try.

I want you two to come be a part of my tribe but Bushard is an infinite company with an infinite strategy and outlook for the future. To put it simply, " there is no winning because the game is never over". We'll get all the delicates worked out, I guarantee you'll be ecstatic over the compensation and perks but besides that----how's the chocolate cake?"