Read The Crunch Campaign for Free Online Page B

head and shrugged.
    â€˜I’m sorry, Mr Maxwell,’ said Vanessa, ‘you’re from?’
    â€˜MyFries. I own MyFries. A thousand outlets feeding a million faces every day. Twenty-five different cut fries with twenty-five different sauces.’
    Vanessa raised her eyebrows. MyFries was the fastest growing franchise in the world – a local success story. Caesar Maxwell was from Ipswich, not quite an hour’s drive west of Brisbane. He’d left Ipswich ten years ago and now ran his empire from Las Vegas. She leant in towards the phone. ‘How can we help you, Mr Maxwell?’
    â€˜You’ve heard the rubbish that fool Clara Whiting is spouting about a ban on fast-food ads?’
    Vanessa quite liked the prime minister. ‘Yes?’
    â€˜Well, I’m not going to sit back and take it. And neither are the other companies that will be crippled by this insane move. So the burger boys and the fried chicken people and the rest of your fizzy drink mates are chucking money into the hat to fight it. I need to know that you’re in too.’
    â€˜But –’ Vanessa tried to think quickly. ‘What are you going to do?’
    â€˜Run ads saying that the government policy is lunacy. That they need to build more, you know, bike paths and stuff. It’s not our fault that kids are fat. It’s all about freedom. This ban is un-Australian and we’re going to fight it. And you soft drink people are in the front line. It’ll take you down first. So you need to cough up – fast.’
    Caesar Maxwell’s voice had deepened and become almost threatening. It was a few seconds before Vanessa could reply.
    â€˜Ah, Mr Maxwell, I’d need to know more before we committed to being a part of any campaign like that. What kind of ads? How much money would we need to contribute? We’re a small company – we haven’t got much of an advertising budget.’
    â€˜Yeah, well, you might as well spend every cent you do have with us, otherwise you’ll be out of business come January.’
    â€˜Mr Maxwell? I’m Liam Parfitt. I run the company with Vanessa.’
    They could hear Caesar Maxwell huff, as if he realised he’d been wasting his time. ‘Parfitt! Where’s your old man, then? He’s the one I should be talking to.’
    Liam reeled as if he’d been hit. Vanessa put her hand on his. ‘My father passed away last year,’ he said flatly, ‘and I don’t mean to be unhelpful, but Vanessa’s right. We need to know more about what you plan to do. The child health issue is real enough and even though we’re no supporters of this ban, I don’t think ads slamming the government will do much to change things.’
    â€˜Well, I’m not that interested in what you think, just in what you can contribute. You’re a small fish in a big pond. That means you’ll be the first to be chewed up. So you need to stick with the big guys if you want to have any chance of survival. It’s that simple. I’ve set up a fighting fund and everyone’s contributing. MyFries is putting in $12 million. We reckon you guys can kick in a mill.’
    Liam and Vanessa burst out laughing.
    â€˜What? You think this is funny?’
    â€˜No, Mr Maxwell, none of this is funny.’ Vanessa tried to speak calmly. ‘But I don’t think you realise just how small our little company is. We might spend a million dollars on advertising over ten years!’
    â€˜That’s ridiculous. I don’t believe it. Everyone in the industry is talking about Parfitt’s. That kind of profile doesn’t come cheap.’
    Vanessa stifled her laughter. ‘Well, thanks for the call, Mr Maxwell.’
    â€˜I’ll send you the payment details. You don’t want to be left out in the cold on this one, believe me.’ Then he was gone.
    â€˜Well,’ said Vanessa, ‘that was . . .