Ladies! Gentleman!
We are at war.
Make no mistake.
Christmas is…hell.
Market share is the prize.
The Holy Grail.
Or, as I like to say, THE HOLY SALE.
Make no mistake.
Scratch any romantic notions you have about Christmas. Any foolish childhood imaginings. Those sweet and infantile days.
We have no time for nostalgia.
And no snickers.
None.
Simply not allowed.
You are here because you have sacrificed everything to me.
To the Store.
My store.
If we do not sell, we shrivel and die.
Is that what you want?
I CAN’T HEAR YOU.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Good! The battle has begun.
We are at war.
Make no mistake.
Christmas is…hell.
Market share is the prize.
The Holy Grail.
Or, as I like to say, THE HOLY SALE.
Make no mistake.
Scratch any romantic notions you have about Christmas. Any foolish childhood imaginings. Those sweet and infantile days.
We have no time for nostalgia.
And no snickers.
None.
Simply not allowed.
You are here because you have sacrificed everything to me.
To the Store.
My store.
If we do not sell, we shrivel and die.
Is that what you want?
I CAN’T HEAR YOU.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Good! The battle has begun.
