It’s the Bold Statement of the Week, almost guarunteed not to give you rabies. This week’s bold statement: advertising your product with little animals voiced by A-list celebrities.

It’s late on a Friday evening and you’re stuck in a marketing meeting about new strategies for advertising toilet tissue. You also have no further plans this day beyond watching The Soup. You, sir, suck. You’re sitting in this meeting, contemplating the glistening gem of devil boogers that is your life; So I’m average. I have a big nose and fluffy hair. So does Zach Braff: how in hell’s hoo-ha does Zach Braff get hot girls? He’s so mediocre! IT DEFIES PHYSICS.

You turn you attention back to your notes—What precise lens of advertising would draw people to chose our product as “paper of choice” in the extraction of feces from their colons? An infomercial? No, too long. A two girls one cup theme? My stomach can’t handle another second of that. Hmm…what about…puppies?

Suddenly, you hear an overwhelming, collective “awwww,” from Casey Freeman’s organs in the office below you. And that’s when it hits you. “Gentlemen,” you announce, “I know how to market our product: baby golden retrievers voiced by Zach Braff.” Your co-workers gawk in confusion. “It makes perfect sense,” you continue, “Zach Braff’s inexplicable likeability combined with the cutest dogs on planet earth will spark in consumers the fail-safe desire to fervently wipe their asses!”

It actually makes no sense at all. But your co-workers’ unignorable desire to drink sways them to approve your campaign. Sure enough, Cottonelle becomes the number one toilet paper in the nation. Score one for you, dude who previously sucked.

The next meeting, you come prepared with a slew of charismatic animals and a list of corresponding celebrities. Your presentation is largely based on why Antonio Bandares, and ONLY Antonio Bandares, would sway the public to purchase anti-allergy drugs from a computer-animated yellow jacket.

“With most yellow jackets, it’s totally like, get away from me, you hurt!” You explain prolifically to the executives, “But a yellow jacket with a Spanish accent? It’s like, Dude, I will so hang out with you! Is that accent real? Sure, I’ll take some ecstasy with you! Anti-allergens, too?? Totally!”

The executives are hesitant, but they would do anything to meet Antonio Bandares. And so, your second campaign is green-lighted.

Flying high on the wing of your success, you plan a grandiose presentation for your next meeting with diagrams, illustrations, and a Fosse throwback song and tap dance if all goes well. “It’s game time, brothers!” You announce with that gleam of controlled lunacy in your eyes. “For this campaign, I’m totally thinking lizards. Not geckos like that lame Geico campaign, just small lizards that look like geckos. And I’m seeing a famous face who everyone loves and can relate with on a down-to-earth level: Naomi Campbell. I realize she’s a model and doesn’t really talk, but don’t worry. They’ll all be dancing. Poorly. To Thriller! By the way, did I mention this is to promote a vitamin drink? Do you see the connection here?”

They do not see the connection here. The room full of colleagues stare at you blankly as you quaver and giggle at the excitement of your own inspiration. They just don’t understand. But you’re not worried; they’re just not equipped with your profound insight. They also didn’t drop three tabs of acid before this meeting like you. And they don’t see the psychedelic panda in your lap who has been whispering this sweet insight in your ear the whole time. No one else matters. All that matters is that you, normally-run-of-the-mill-guy, have made a bold statement by advertising your product with little animals voiced by A-list celebrities.