Got Cookies?

        "Maynard, get in here.  I want to see you."
        "Yessir.  I'll be right there." 
        Maynard's boss was sitting behind his big oak desk, leaning forward in 
his chair, palms flat on a pile of papers in front of him.  
        "Maynard, you're familiar with that whole "Got milk" ad 
campaign, right?"
        "I-I've seen some commercials, sir.  I especially like the 
Aaron Burr one.  In college, I studied Bur-"
        "That's wonderful, Maynard, but listen closely.  You've got 
exactly one minute.  Gimme a setup if the theme of the campaign 
was "Got cookies?"
        "Sir?"
        "You heard me, Maynard.  25 seconds."
        "I work in test, sir.  I test software.  I don't understand."
        "You don't get paid to understand.  You don't even get paid to 
test.  You get paid to do as I say.  Now sell me some cookies."
        Maynard adopted an odd military-like posture and began, "Sir, 
open to a shot of a psychedelically-painted VW bus.  Out tumble a few 
kids in tie-dyed shirts and some billowing smoke.  They turn upside 
down empty bags of Doritos, nachos, Ding Dongs, Twinkies.  Bang--
got cookies?"
        "Not bad, skidmark, not bad, except don't you think that 
would be more appropriate for a "got pizza" campaign?"
        "Maybe, sir, but I like cookies."
        "I like Haagen-Dasz rum raisin ice cream over slightly-nuked 
fig newtons when I'm baked.  Try again."
        "Sir, shot of a creepy-looking guy driving around town in an 
old van.  In the back we see what looks like tripods, a torn-up mattress,  
some dolls.  Cut to playground.  Girl crying.  A bully has stolen her 
lunch and is eating the last of her cookies and he's laughing at her.  Cut 
back to man in van who smiles, nods, reaches behind his seat and 
drops a full bag of Chips Ahoy onto his lap and pulls up to the curb 
next to the girl.  Bang--got cookies."
        "Very good, Maynard.  Very good indeed."

RICHH
--got cookies