Fast Cars and Intergalactic Speed Dating

4: A Marketable Worm Bucket

"Absolutely not." Richard crossed his arms. "Garth, you must be joking."

"You haven't even looked," Garth began, gesturing at the screen of his laptop. Above his head, the corner of a Mean Girls movie poster—one of the many pop culture decor choices he'd made for his office—fluttered weakly in the breeze from the vent in the ceiling as a cutesy figurine of Deadpool looked on from a neighboring shelf.

"I've seen enough. You are not taking my groundbreaking innovation in solar energy and inserting it into lawn ornaments!"

"Sit down." Garth plopped into his desk chair and gestured to the bean bag on the floor at the side of his desk.

Richard frowned at the beanbag. Then he frowned at Garth. "I do not think you want your bean bag to smell like Electric Pulse."

"Oh yeah. Okay, stand, but at least come closer."

With a resigned sigh—Richard did a lot of resigned sighing these days—he approached Garth's desk.

"This is the pink flamingo model," said Garth.

"Obviously."

"The cells are cleverly concealed in the tip of its beak and in a line down its back, and, if I'm calculating correctly, the generator component can be housed in its body. Totally unobtrusive."

"This is the largest flamingo lawn ornament I've ever seen."

"It's a little large, sure, but there's no separate component required. But that isn't even the best part. This one here is the lawn gnome model. I think we'd launch with this one: everyone likes lawn gnomes. Again, a little large, but all one unit."

"Not everyone likes lawn ornaments at all, let alone gnomes. Besides, where are you going to put the cords to—"

"We can run the lines underground." Garth spread his hands. "Mmmagic!"

"Garth—"

"Richard. Be serious for a second here."

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'll get serious. Like you, sitting here with your giant flamingos and bearded men in pointy hats."

"My strong feelings about men in pointy hats aside, dude, the people who want a huge solar panel in their yards already have one. All right? We need to market your tech to the masses. Especially the nerds and the geeks and the fun people. Fun people put dorky stuff in their yards, or they decorate the porches of their tiny apartments with gnomes and quasi-religious statues of Yoda. I really think we're on to something here."

"I just want this technology to appeal to everyone, and not everyone is going to want this weirdness in their gardens. I think you're limiting us and our scope by over-engineering this stuff."

"I knew you'd say that, which is why I came up with this: your happy alternative." Garth tabbed over to another set of designs. One looked suspiciously like a mailbox; the other was a tasteful polygon, the sort of thing one might find outside of a middle class, suburban family's home with the surname of the residents inscribed upon it.

"Oh," said Richard.

"Eh? Eh?" said Garth, grinning ear to ear. "Use the dorks to go viral, then suck in the normies. It's genius! Look at this." He pointed at the nondescript polygonal ornament. It could have been a headstone in a conformative cemetery. "My mom paid $400 for some schmuck to inscribe our last name on a big hunk of rock, unnecessary apostrophe and all. This? We have options to make it customizable. We could offer a standard polymer version and one with some kind of fancy facing—metal or granite, maybe."

"Eventually."

"Right. Let's get started with one product and then we'll see how things go. Personally, the gnome is my favorite."

Richard shifted his weight, deliberating. For a moment, he had forgotten the uncomfortable dampness of his posterior and the overwhelming odor of shaving cream. "You might be winning me over. The sunglasses are a nice touch."

"I thought you'd like him! Your little gnome friend with a future so bright he has to wear shades! Shades with solar cells cleverly concealed in the lenses."

Grimacing, Richard waved a hand. "Fine, fine. Have your gnome. But send me those specs. I want to double check that this will actually work with my schematics."

"Ooo, Richard, I love it when you talk nerdy. Gets me all shivery." With a couple clicks of his mouse, Garth had shared the file with Richard. "On its way to you now. Sweet baby Jesus. We're really gonna do this thing!"

"I hope we do it well. An unemployed engineer's salary does not stretch to support my expensive habits, like eating."

Garth slapped Richard on the shoulder. "You should go change your clothes, man."

"I'll be plotting my revenge. You know that, right?"

"Pfft. I'll be ready for it. Hey, you have the race this weekend?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there. I'm going to need an extra ticket. I get a plus one, right? You got Christine, after all. Is she all oiled up?"

For reasons Richard had not yet been able to determine, Garth insisted upon calling the Camaro Christine. Maybe the C's? "More or less. Who are you inviting?"

Garth shook his head. "Nope. Don't jinx me, bro."

Richard rolled his eyes and headed out of Garth's office. "I'll be in my room. Hey—Garth."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for making my worm bucket marketable."

"Don't mention it." Garth winked, pointed finger-guns at Richard, and clicked his tongue. 

Garth has his Mean Girls poster and Deadpool Funko Pop! figurine.

I've got a few Funko Pop! figures myself: Tyrion from Game of Thrones, Data from Star Trek, Wesley from The Princess Bride, Eugene from Shazam!, and Dr. Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds. I also have a couple cute li'l figurines of my partner and me painted in Star Trek costumes. We used them as cake toppers at our wedding. NO REGRETS! 

Your turn! 'Fess up! What pop culture decor adorns your living quarters, my friends?