President, Chief Creative Officer

Lucille Potsdom may only be 12, but when she speaks, it is
with the authority of someone who has viewed - and memorized - nearly 5,400 separate commercials by the time
she was five. Her family and friends couldn't help but be impressed by the fact that Lucille was able to communicate
her thoughts using a vocabulary that consisted entirely of slogans, jingles and catchphrases.

When, by the age of 8, her enormous wordcache grew to include 60's rock lyrics and medical disclaimers, it was clear
to all that they were in the presence of a true prodigy. Her parents, pulling her from school, signed an exclusive ten year, $5,000,000 indenture agreement with CW&O, where in quick succession Lucille went from refusing to come out of the washroom, to copywriter, to demanding a fully-functioning Baskin-Robbins in her office, to Creative Director, to
"Tantrum Queen of the West Wing" to Chief Creative Officer, and, finally, after discovering long-distance spitting, CW&O President, all the while lining the walls of her office with countless awards, and an exhaustive collection of autographed Justin Timberlake. posters.

Portrait of a Superstar

A Creative is presenting work to Lucille, who is finding it far short of her standards. She rocks impatiently back and forth in her seat.  Her voice rises to an angry wail.  "May cause chafing and burning!", she screams, pointing at the shamed offender,
"If symptoms persist, consult your physician!"  The Creative shifts the offending boards behind his back, as if to bury
them, and scampers dejectedly out the door.  There's nothing else to be said.

Yes, egos are often pummeled.  Yes, there's sometimes
spitting, poking and slapping.  There's the pain of watching
your boss hold her breath until she turns blue in the face.  There's food fights with giant crabs.  No one ever said making great advertising was pretty.

But a CW & O veteran, who once had his pants set on fire during a particularly ill-received presentation, speaks for his colleagues:   "She's tough, but she's fair."

And if Lucille's office door is always open (a practice
colleagues are attempting to change for those moments when she's in the washroom), life at the top can often be lonely. 
Her only true confidant may well be her imaginary friend:  Elmer, the Network Clearance Armadillo.

Interview with a Prodigy

Asked what makes CW O's work so distinctive, Lucille gives
you a quick glance, and then glues her eyes to a spot on the floor, her words bursting out in a monotone torrent:

"We're the Sizzle.  We're the Steak.  We're that Yucky Gristly Stuff You Get Caught Between Your Teeth.  Clients check in, but they don't check out.  We're the New Generation.  We're Your One Best Friend.  We're the You you want to be  We
know what you need.  We share your dreams.  We know
where you live.  We're only minutes away, and we leave no unsightly residue."

And the state of advertising today?

"What about now?  Please check the number and dial again.  Why wait for a change in scenery when you can make your own?  Why didn't anyone think of this before?  The more you know, the better it looks.   Why wear anything else?  If your friends aren't impressed by the extra new features, get new friends.  It's a bad morning to be a stump. The bar is raised.  Don't cut corners.  Attitude x 2.  Washing hair and changing minds."

How does Lucille describe herself?    She measures her words with care:  "Orphan.  Outsider.  Diva.  Survivor."