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Chapter 101: Crude Jokes
🕑 Added 2024-12-05 17:56:51 +0000 UTCDuring dinner, Grey, as the sole breadwinner and the only adult male in the family, was sitting at the head of the long table, sharing a meal with his family.
His wife sat beside him, with their two daughters and one son not far away. The oldest among them was only 16, right at the peak of hormonal changes.
Everyone silently scooped at the chickpea mash on their plates, listening to the sound of the television, without saying a word.
Although dinnertime should be the best opportunity for family bonding, there was no warmth in the atmosphere of Grey's household. Instead, an eerie silence enveloped the group.
Grey set down his wine glass, touched his red, bulbous nose, and chewed on some bread. With a stern tone, he asked, "Who spilled the ketchup in the kitchen today?"
The children stopped mid-scoop, exchanging glances, their faces filled with bewilderment and unease.
"No one wants to speak? If you admit it yourself, I won't do anything to you," Grey said as he poured himself another glass of wine. He appeared to be playing the part of a kind father, but the kids all gripped their spoons tightly, clearly nervous.
"Alright, it seems no one wants to confess. If I find out…" Grey didn't finish his sentence, but everyone glanced instinctively at the belt hanging on the wall.
Grey rotated his neck and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Still no one? Fine, I'll go one by one. Derek…"
"Pfft!" A sudden sound interrupted him.
"Damn it! Who did that?" Grey frowned.
Derek, the youngest, immediately shook his head. "Father, it wasn't me!"
"Then…"
"It wasn't us either!" The other two children quickly shook their heads.
Grey turned to his wife. "Didn't think you'd be so bold…"
"Don't blame me, Grey! It wasn't me! Was it you?" his wife retorted unexpectedly.
"Shut up! Of course, it wasn't me!"
"Pfft!" Suddenly, the sound rang out again. This time, everyone clearly identified the source. They all turned their heads and saw it came from the television!
On the screen, a Heinz ketchup commercial was playing. Just like Grey's family, a man in a red sweater was seated at the head of the dining table, squeezing a bottle of ketchup.
The farting sound was coming from the ketchup bottle.
"Pfft!" The sound was straightforward and immediately caused the family in the advertisement to react.
"Hahaha!" Everyone began to laugh.
The father in the ad spread his hands. "It wasn't me. It's the ketchup bottle."
"Are you sure, Dad? Hahaha!" his daughter teased, and his wife joined in with laughter.
"Of course, I'm sure. I'd never let one slip during a family dinner," the father explained with a serious face. "I'm not that kind of person."
"Yes, Dad, we know," his son nodded, but then the voiceover and a cut to everyone laughing behind his back revealed the truth.
"They say they believe you, but you know what they really think. Every family dinner becomes a nightmare."
The man sat alone on the couch, looking dejected.
The next second, the voiceover took a turn: "But not anymore! Introducing Heinz 'Relaxed Edition.' Your favorite ketchup, now without the awkward noises."
"Now when you squeeze the bottle, it releases a calming sigh. This year's gatherings will be very different."
As the narration ended, the scene transitioned to the following year. The father, now in a yellow sweater, sat in the same spot, holding a Heinz bottle.
His family and relatives were chatting happily around him.
However, when he squeezed the ketchup bottle hard, a woman's sensual moan suddenly filled the air, freezing everyone mid-action.
"What was that?" his daughter asked, her face full of confusion.
"That's just the soothing sound of the Heinz Relaxed Edition," the father replied smugly, squeezing the bottle several more times.
The moaning sounds continued, leaving everyone at the table feeling both awkward and amused.
One of the relatives frowned and commented, "This sounds just like…"
But the father cut him off: "A relaxed sigh. I know."
He then displayed several more Heinz condiment bottles on the table, each producing a different moan when squeezed.
The mix of male and female voices left everyone both embarrassed and amused.
The son's eyes darted around before he spoke hesitantly, "Mom, can I leave for a bit?"
"Of course."
As soon as the mother agreed, she saw her son grab one of the ketchup bottles. Alarmed, she quickly asked, "Wait, where are you taking that?"
The son glanced down at the bottle and replied, "To my room?"
"No! Put it down!" the mother screamed, trying to stop her son from wasting tissues on unholy pursuits.
But the father looked on with admiration. "My boy loves ketchup, just like his old man."
"Hahaha!" Grey laughed like a 200-pound kid, squeezing the ketchup bottle in his hand. "This is hilarious. How could Heinz ketchup make those sounds… I've got to buy a few bottles tomorrow and try it."
"Hahaha…" The kids joined in, with Derek laughing the hardest.
"Do you like ketchup, Derek?" Grey asked through his laughter.
"Of course, Dad," Derek nodded eagerly.
"My boy loves ketchup, just like his old man! Hahaha!" Grey seemed to have completely forgotten his earlier interrogation, his mind filled with the thought of ketchup bottles moaning.
Similar scenarios played out in many households. Although the ad was a bit crude, it was undeniably relatable and easy to understand.
Every viewer couldn't help but become curious about Heinz ketchup bottles. Maybe they really did release a "relaxed sigh."
As a result, Heinz's sauce sales skyrocketed in the following days. Bert couldn't stop smiling as he watched the rising numbers, even discussing the feasibility of actually developing such bottles with the executives during a meeting.
Meanwhile, competitor sauce sales growth slowed significantly, with Heinz overtaking them.
Thanks to this ad, Supreme Creativity's reputation soared within the industry, attracting numerous clients eager to collaborate.
But Ethan's focus wasn't on the company. At home, he was poring over various Hollywood interviews in newspapers.
In recent days, the bullying controversy surrounding the Chicago production had escalated from Dion's accusations to a full-blown debate between supporters and detractors.
A member of the props team refuted Dion's claims in a magazine: "The truth is, Dion was disrupting the shoot, which is why he left. We didn't bully him or verbally abuse him."
Photography assistant Fimos also gave an interview, saying: "We were shooting on film, and everyone knows how expensive film is. The movie's cost increases with every wasted moment. But Dion shot a lot of bad footage. When Assistant Director Ethan pointed it out, Dion kept arguing until we saw the final cut, and he had to admit his mistakes! Photographers like him should be blacklisted by the industry."
Producer Bert also spoke to reporters: "We didn't fire Dion; he left on his own. He violated our contract, and we are pursuing legal action against him."
These statements quickly shifted the public narrative. While ordinary readers debated whether the production team's actions constituted verbal abuse and bullying, major film companies decided to blacklist Dion.
A photographer who failed at his job and then used the media to attack the crew? Nobody wanted to work with someone like that.
After receiving no responses to multiple job applications, Dion realized the situation and began appearing more frequently in the press.
His interviews were full of negativity about Chicago:
"They've ruined this classic musical. It's unbearable!"
"The director and the photography are talentless hacks."
"Assistant Director Ethan has no experience and treats the crew poorly."
"The camera work lacks beauty, and the choreography is sloppy. Don't buy tickets."
These comments found an eager audience, allowing Dion to earn a good amount of money from interviews despite producer Bert's lawsuit and the looming court date.
Director Rob Marshall was furious. Chicago was his passion project, and he had poured countless hours into designing the choreography and shots. He couldn't stand anyone disparaging his work.
One weekend, Rob finally lost his patience and spoke his mind to a reporter: "Chicago will go down in the history of musicals. I'm immensely confident in this film and believe it will win at the Oscars. The crew and staff are some of the best talents in Hollywood!"
He intended to boost audience confidence, but to sensationalist media outlets, this was a golden opportunity.
Within days, headlines like these dominated the news:
"Rob Marshall declares Chicago the year's best Oscar contender."
"Rob Marshall believes Chicago will be the biggest winner at the Oscars."
"Director calls Chicago a 'landmark in musical film history.'"
"Is Chicago on par with Singin' in the Rain? Director brims with confidence!"
As expected, journalism didn't disappoint in twisting words. Even legitimate outlets leaned towards a critical stance:
"Chicago may turn out to be a cash grab, says ex-photographer."
"Sloppy yet polished, the mystery of Chicago awaits its unveiling upon release."
"If Chicago turns out to be a flop, fans of the musical claim they will take drastic measures against the production team."
When Ethan saw the last headline, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. The American spirit was certainly robust—if physical means were an option, reasoning was off the table.
However, from the sheer volume of interviews, he sensed that someone might be fanning the flames. After all, negative publicity was still publicity, and perhaps the higher-ups at Miramax wanted to use this to boost the film's fame.
Thinking of the founder of Miramax, Harvey Weinstein, Ethan clicked his tongue twice. It wasn't surprising at all.
Still, no matter how much the controversy was stirred up, Dion's antics would come to an end. The media had already shifted their attention to a more sensational story: a Black actor alleging racial discrimination.
Recent newspapers had devoted pages to this new headline, leaving Dion out of the spotlight.
Ethan put down the newspaper, tidied his outfit, and prepared to attend the party Richard had invited him to.
Richard had told him this was a must-attend event, promising it would be an eye-opener. Ethan was curious to find out what this party was all about.
