“Fuck it,” the president of Vicks Nyquil says, tossing a stack of papers onto the conference table. “Let’s just make purple drink.” He gets up from his chair and is almost out of the room before someone speaks up. “Um… sir? What should we call it?”
“I don’t give two shits what you call it. Call it Zzzquil. Who fucking cares.” The door slams, and work begins on Zzzquil.