Morris banged on the door to Phil’s office ignoring the “Meeting in Progress” sign.
Phil opened the door a crack and waved his hand “Go away,” he whispered.
“You’ve got to hear this, Phil! You’ve got to.”
“Shhh! I’m having a meeting. Go away. Come back at one-thirty, okay?” Morris heaved a sigh and headed for his office. “You’ll be sorry you waited.”
At exactly one-thirty, Morris pounded on Phil’s door. “Come in,” Phil growled from inside.
“Phil, Phil, Phil. You’ve got to see this.” Morris pulled a small paper envelope out of his pocket and loaded the contents on Phil’s desk.
“You’re bringing me candy? Gee, that’s nice of you, Morris.”
“This is not candy.” Morris spoke in a monotone staccato like a robot alien. “This is NOT candy. This is nicotine disguised as candy. This is another plot to hook kids on tobacco.”
“Wait a minute, my friend. This is not a PM-USA product.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“How did you get a hold of this?” Phil picked up one of the flavored candies and turned it over.
“I got a sample from a friend who works for R J Reynolds.”
“You didn’t! It’s not even on the market yet!”
Morris raised his chin. “I have a friend who works for R. J. Reynolds, and when I found out he was coming through Richmond I begged him to bring me a sample, so he did.”
“I wonder what the FDA’s brand-new Center for Tobacco Products is going to do about this.”
“They’re steaming mad, that’s what.”
“Then the FDA must be upset, too. Are they going to ban it?”
“Too early to know for sure. There are only two companies making them—the outfit called Star Scientific right here in Virginia, and R. J. Reynolds.”
“Well, I’ll be smoked.”
“Me, too. Actually, Star Scientific has been making tobacco candy in three flavors for about nine years. What’s interesting is that all of a sudden R. J. Reynolds is doing heavy market research to see if they can make a fortune selling these little gems to kids and getting them hooked on nicotine.”
“They can’t do that, Morris. It’s illegal to sell tobacco of any kind to kids.” “I know, and Star is in trouble with the FDA. But they say these candies are only for adults and have all the warnings that regular cigarettes do. You know how fast kids are at getting around rules.”
“So what’s the news? Is R. J. going to copy what Star has been doing?” “Not on your life. They have a whole new system. They’re test-marketing flavored tablets that last about fifteen minutes and flavored strips the size of toothpicks that last about five minutes. Except for fatter versions they call ‘sticks” that last fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“What’s the marketing name?” “Camels, of course. What would you expect from R. J. Reynolds? They’re called Camel Sticks, Camel Orbs, and Camel Strips.”
“When are you going to talk about this marvelous marketing opportunity to your boss?”
“Phil! Don’t be absurd! I think this is the worst of the worst. This isn’t just nicotine. It’s tobacco. And it’s candy. Candy that makes nicotine addicts. Flavored and powdered and dissolves in your mouth. It’s as much a farce as our claims back in the ‘50’s that tobacco had no bad effects.”
“Well, well. What are you going to do about it, now that you’ve become a champion enemy of tobacco?
“I’m thinking. I’m thinking.”
“I don’t want to watch that. See you tomorrow.”
