Writing Prompt - Fictional Advertisement

This is the horrifying result of a writing prompt that I created for a sci-fi group on Facebook. What I created is what TV Tropes calls a "Dada Ad". Below is the prompt, followed by my entry.

"Your goal is to write an advertisement for a fictional product, and have at least one character react to the advertisement. Is the product generic and boring? Is it so over-the-top that nobody would buy it? Is it so over-the-top that EVERYONE would buy it? Is the ad so weird and non-indicative of the product it promotes that the character thinks it was made by people on drugs? Would your character be groaning with exasperation or drooling with desire?"


The camera panned across a vast, green field, set to the tune of a thunderous orchestra. At the same time, a flock of birds sang a happy song while traversing the clear blue sky above. A lone tree came into view, prompting the camera to abruptly zoom in on it. Without warning, the tree uprooted itself and began moving toward a herd of cows, using its roots like the tentacles of an octopus.

Two of the tree's branches reached down and began juggling three of the cows, who chanted in a manner befitting of a classical opera and prompting the robust orchestra to transition to a soft classical tune with rich violins.

Green glitter, aglow with a mysterious iridescent light, fluttered down from the sky. Each piece popped like a firecracker after being swatted from the air by the grass, which had suddenly and inexplicably grown much taller.

The entire scene slowed and took a sepia tone while blurring. Text appeared on the screen in a progressing sequence of reversed explosions, spelling out, "The tree of life; bovines charm the chant delightful. Do you beckon wellspring? This is truth: Shop at Dvoni-Mart. Be free origin!"

A small trail of saliva traveled down Ramy's cheek as she watched all of this transpire. She sank further down into the sofa, unwilling to move any of her muscles. She was now convinced that the commercial had placed her into some sort of eldritch trance. Hopefully Cthulhu wasn't going to pop out of a vent in the ceiling.

Never before had she wanted to kill someone so badly. She was afraid she might actually enjoy her next assassination mission, so she switched the channel to a silly cartoon that was usually watched by young children. Perhaps that would wash away her confusion-instigated blood lust.

The symptoms were unsurprising to her. That had easily been the weirdest and most unsettling commercial she had witnessed in at least two weeks. Such was a common danger associated with having access to millions of TV channels from across the galaxy. She needed to get out more.

- Roystonn Pruitt, 1/4/15