TW Steel. I feel like an enormous amount of meth was consumed after the cocaine ran out, with the concept giving me the sense of āmarketing brainstorming session in a fluro tube lit boardroom in a strip mallā.
You can hear it, canāt you? Sitting in a nearly abandoned strip mall space, with a thin drywall sheet separating this boardroom from passing traffic, the uniform of the day
and hairstyles like the lead trio in Office Spaceā¦ Andre from marketing hoovering up a massive quantity of drugs and shouting āit MUST BE BIG!ā while Chet from marketing uses a cake slice to manipulate more of the crystalline powder in the style of a cement trowel and shouts āAND IT NEEDS HUGE NOBSā, then Andre from marketing demands that it be āQUARTZ! BECUASE ITS ACCURATEā then high fives Chet because he though HUGE NOBS was a joke.
Then at the very end another ad exec who goes by Triptronic, like the old Hondas (but is actually named Terrance) wanders into the cocaine party with a wee bit of LSD kicking around and he said āyou guysā¦ what if we make them look like a CANTEEN?!ā
I see it as Paneraiās unsophisticated distant cousin from the new world, who tries to ape what made cousin PAM famous, and hits those integers in isolation - big, bold, simplistic, brutalist - and yet manages to do so without so much as a modicum of anything which might resemble panache, style, practicality, flair, or imagination.