Post by Catsmate on Sept 24, 2021 10:55:13 GMT
"If that’s what you want, you can Whiffle for it".
I'm a fan of Gold Age (i.e. inter-war) mysteries, and they're a mine of period detail that can be incorporated into games. This particular item, although fictional, is one such.
It originated in Dorothy Sayer's Murder Must Advertise, in which her principal series protagonist, Lord Peter Wimsey, goes undercover (disguised as his criminal alter ego Death Bredon) as and advertising copy-writer at an agency Pym's Publicity. He's investigating a Mysterious Death and it's possible links to a cocaine distribution network.
Sayers herself worked in advertising1 and this shows in the setting and characterisation. While at Pym's Wimsey becomes fascinated by advertising and invents a campaign for Whifflets, a brand of cigarettes who're being beaten by a rival brand in the advertising stakes2.
Whiffling works rather simply: each time you buy Whifflets you get coupons in the packer. These can, in bulk, be exchanged directly for rail travel, accommodation and other services, later broadened to a range of goods and services.
To quote Sayers:
You can find some period-style ads for the campaign here.
So, what has this got to do with Doctor Who? There is, I agree little, obvious connection.
But it's a wonderful bit of background for a scenario. Was a body/artefact discovered because someone stopped to pick up a discarded Whifflets coupon?
Is someone using the flicker pattern of the colourful neon lights spelling out slogans like Guinness is Good For You3, Are You Whiffling Too?, Nutrax for Nerves4 to alter minds and personalities?
Do the PCs encounter an excursion of the Whiffler's Club when they're investigating a mystery in the Lake District? Or might the club be, or be used as, cover for a group investigating strange occurrences?
Perhaps one of the Misfit Mob is trawling the Whoniverse's Ebay for alien artefacts and discovers someone selling mint condition Whifflet coupons from a century ago. Were they found in a box in someone's attic? Or did someone acqurie them more recently?
Suggestions? Ideas? Comments?
1. She worked at Benson's and developed the Coleman's Mustard Club and much Guinness advertising still in use, including the toucan. She coined the phrase "It pays to advertise" too.
2. They're giving away aeroplanes....
3. One of Sayers' efforts.
4. A fictional " nerve tonic" that has a prominent part in Murder Must Advertise. Ripe for plots where it's laced with mind control drugs or an alien virus.
I'm a fan of Gold Age (i.e. inter-war) mysteries, and they're a mine of period detail that can be incorporated into games. This particular item, although fictional, is one such.
It originated in Dorothy Sayer's Murder Must Advertise, in which her principal series protagonist, Lord Peter Wimsey, goes undercover (disguised as his criminal alter ego Death Bredon) as and advertising copy-writer at an agency Pym's Publicity. He's investigating a Mysterious Death and it's possible links to a cocaine distribution network.
In fact one of the staff of Pyms is using advanced knowledge of an important weekly advertisement to assist the gang. Read it, it's rather well thought out.
Sayers herself worked in advertising1 and this shows in the setting and characterisation. While at Pym's Wimsey becomes fascinated by advertising and invents a campaign for Whifflets, a brand of cigarettes who're being beaten by a rival brand in the advertising stakes2.
Whiffling works rather simply: each time you buy Whifflets you get coupons in the packer. These can, in bulk, be exchanged directly for rail travel, accommodation and other services, later broadened to a range of goods and services.
To quote Sayers:
…..the scheme that achieved renown as “Whiffling Round Britain”—the scheme that sent up the sales of Whifflets by five hundred per cent in three months and brought so much prosperity to British Hotel-keepers and Road and Rail Transport. It is not necessary to go into details. You have probably Whiffled yourself. You recollect how it was done. You collected coupons for everything—railway fares, charabancs, hotel-bills, theatre-tickets—every imaginable item in the holiday programme.
When you had collected enough to cover the period of time you wished to spend in travelling, you took your coupons with you (no sending up to Whifflets, nothing to post or fill in) and started on your tour. At the railway station you presented coupons entitling you to so many miles of first-class travel and received your ticket to the selected town. You sought your hotel (practically all the hotels in Britain fell eagerly in with the scheme) and there presented coupons entitling you to so many nights’ board and lodging on special Whifflet terms. For your charabanc outings, your seabathing, your amusements, you paid in Whifflet coupons. It was all exceedingly simple and trouble-free. And it made for that happy gregariousness which is the joy of the travelling middle-class.
When you asked for your packet of Whifflets in the bar, your next-door neighbour was almost sure to ask, “Are you Whiffling too?” Whiffling parties arranged to Whiffle together, and exchanged Whifflet coupons on the spot.
The great Whifflers’ Club practically founded itself, and Whifflers who had formed attachments while Whiffling in company, secured special Whifflet coupons entitling them to a Whifflet wedding with a Whifflet cake and their photographs in the papers. When this had happened several times, arrangements were made by which Whiffler couples could collect for a Whifflet house, whose Whifflet furniture included a handsome presentation smoking cabinet, free from advertising matter and crammed with unnecessary gadgets. After this, it was only a step to a Whifflet Baby. In fact, the Whifflet Campaign is and remains the outstanding example of Thinking Big in Advertising. The only thing that you cannot get by Whiffling is a coffin; it is not admitted that any Whiffler could ever require such an article.
When you had collected enough to cover the period of time you wished to spend in travelling, you took your coupons with you (no sending up to Whifflets, nothing to post or fill in) and started on your tour. At the railway station you presented coupons entitling you to so many miles of first-class travel and received your ticket to the selected town. You sought your hotel (practically all the hotels in Britain fell eagerly in with the scheme) and there presented coupons entitling you to so many nights’ board and lodging on special Whifflet terms. For your charabanc outings, your seabathing, your amusements, you paid in Whifflet coupons. It was all exceedingly simple and trouble-free. And it made for that happy gregariousness which is the joy of the travelling middle-class.
When you asked for your packet of Whifflets in the bar, your next-door neighbour was almost sure to ask, “Are you Whiffling too?” Whiffling parties arranged to Whiffle together, and exchanged Whifflet coupons on the spot.
The great Whifflers’ Club practically founded itself, and Whifflers who had formed attachments while Whiffling in company, secured special Whifflet coupons entitling them to a Whifflet wedding with a Whifflet cake and their photographs in the papers. When this had happened several times, arrangements were made by which Whiffler couples could collect for a Whifflet house, whose Whifflet furniture included a handsome presentation smoking cabinet, free from advertising matter and crammed with unnecessary gadgets. After this, it was only a step to a Whifflet Baby. In fact, the Whifflet Campaign is and remains the outstanding example of Thinking Big in Advertising. The only thing that you cannot get by Whiffling is a coffin; it is not admitted that any Whiffler could ever require such an article.
So, what has this got to do with Doctor Who? There is, I agree little, obvious connection.
But it's a wonderful bit of background for a scenario. Was a body/artefact discovered because someone stopped to pick up a discarded Whifflets coupon?
Is someone using the flicker pattern of the colourful neon lights spelling out slogans like Guinness is Good For You3, Are You Whiffling Too?, Nutrax for Nerves4 to alter minds and personalities?
Do the PCs encounter an excursion of the Whiffler's Club when they're investigating a mystery in the Lake District? Or might the club be, or be used as, cover for a group investigating strange occurrences?
Perhaps one of the Misfit Mob is trawling the Whoniverse's Ebay for alien artefacts and discovers someone selling mint condition Whifflet coupons from a century ago. Were they found in a box in someone's attic? Or did someone acqurie them more recently?
Suggestions? Ideas? Comments?
1. She worked at Benson's and developed the Coleman's Mustard Club and much Guinness advertising still in use, including the toucan. She coined the phrase "It pays to advertise" too.
2. They're giving away aeroplanes....
3. One of Sayers' efforts.
4. A fictional " nerve tonic" that has a prominent part in Murder Must Advertise. Ripe for plots where it's laced with mind control drugs or an alien virus.