The Panthos Corporation Pitch

Clair woke up with a start.  She had had that damn dream again.  The one where she goes to work and someone prompts her to give a presentation. Although she knew she had spent countless hours preparing, she could not remember what to say.  She then realizes her slide deck has been wiped from her computer.  And sometimes, the dream ends with her looking down at her body and noticing that she is naked.

Clair shook her head.  She needed a clear head.  A clear head that was not clogged up with these nightmares.  Today she did have a major presentation to give.  She was pitching her company’s latest finance product to a possible investor, The Panthos Corporation.  If the presentation went well, it could mean a multi-million dollar check that could lead to amazing success and wealth.  But if the presentation went poorly, she would need to look for a new job.  Her pet project could not last much longer without a large influx of cash.  

There was one hitch, Clair was an engineer and was not in a position where her presentation skills were superb.  But the team had agreed that with enough preparation, as she knew the project backwards and forwards, she would be the best person to pitch it.  She had nothing to worry about.  The team, mostly the VP of sales, Marc, had been grilling her for weeks and she knew she was prepared.  But that nightmare still stuck in the back of her head.

“Good morning,” Clair said entering the conference room with a laptop bag swung over one shoulder and a Starbucks coffee in her hand.  She had bought a new pantsuit and white blouse with tiny brass buttons from Nordstroms for this particular occasion.  She had her hair professionally dyed and cut the previous week. And received her first manicure a few days prior.  

That morning Clair looked in the mirror and thought, “damn I look good.  I am ready.”  Her confidence was seeping in from the outside.  When she threw her laptop bag onto her shoulder she realized that that could use an upgrade as well.  But she shook it off and continued to her bus stop on the way to work.

“Good morning, Clair.  Are you ready?” Marc asked with a grin.   

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Clair grumbled, setting her coffee in front of the seat next to Marc and setting her laptop bag on the chair to retrieve her laptop and set it on the table.  She slung the laptop bag onto the back of the chair and sat down.

“You’ve got this.  We have been through this a million times.  Plus, I’ll be here.  We’ve got this.” 

“We’ve got this,” she repeated while opening her laptop.

“The Panthos team should be here any minute so if you need to shake out your nerves, do it now.” 

“Oh no,” Clair cried out.

“What?” 

“Oh no,” she repeated.

“What?” Marc put more emphasis on his question this time and then jokingly followed it with, “is the presentation gone or something?” 

“Yes!  I can’t find it anywhere.  It was right here and now it’s not.” Clair clicked around desperately.

“Relax.  Since we have been working on it tirelessly, I have kept my own copy.  I have a copy right here,” Marc opened his laptop and pressed a few keys.  “Oh no.  Mine is gone too.”

Was Clair’s nightmare coming true?

“It’s okay.  We can do it without the slides.”  Marc did his best to steady his voice. 

“Okay,” Clair said with a clear shake in her voice.

At that moment, the receptionist, Valorie entered the conference room followed by six men, all in expensive looking suites. “Marc.  Clair.  The Panthos Team is here.” 

Marc stood up to greet the men, shaking each one’s hands and learning their names that he had been studying for weeks. “And this is Clair.  She is our brightest engineer.  This is her brain child and she will help me with this presentation today.” 

The clear leader of the pack, who Clair remembered as Mr. Spenser, spoke up, “we look forward to hearing all about it.  We have been looking to invest in a product like this, but we have had trouble finding one that we liked.  Everything we have seen so far has looked great.  We look forward to digging into the product and getting a better understanding of what we are investing in.” 

“Yes.  I think you will be very pleased with what we have to show you.  Clair, why don’t you start.”  Marc turned to Clair.

“Yes.  Of course.” Clair started.  “We have been working on artificial intelligence models that…” Clair froze.  She didn’t know what came next.  She had repeated this scripted hundreds of times, but she could not remember the next words.  If she started again, perhaps it would come back to her.  “We have been working on artificial intelligence models that…” She froze again.  She didn’t know what words came next.  Was her nightmare real?

Marc chimed in, “We have been working on artificial intelligence models that look at your entire finance deptartments, Accounts Payable, Travel and Expense, Risk Management…”

As Marc continued, Clair could feel herself sinking into the chair.  She looked down to validate she at least was still wearing clothes, sure enough, the suit from Nordstrom was clearly still on her body.  One thing was working for her that day.  If she didn’t know what to say, she could at least look confident.

With an attempt to exude confidence, Clair sat up straight and thrust her chest forward. In an unexpected turn of events, a small brass button popped off her blouse, zooming across the room with remarkable precision, and striking Mr. Spenser right in the middle of his forehead.

All eyes in the room shifted towards Clair. Overwhelmed by humiliation, she instinctively covered her bosom, feeling a rush of panic surge through her. Without a moment's hesitation, she hastily escaped the conference room, tears streaming down her face, seeking solace in the sanctuary of the bathroom. The weight of the situation became unbearable, and after a period of emotional turmoil, she ultimately made the decision to grant herself a well-deserved mental health day, retreating to the comfort of her home.

After that, everything seemed to go back to normal.  Marc received rave reviews from the Panthos team and Clair hid away behind her desk coding away at the near completed product. Although her nightmare had come true, she did not yet lose her job and they did not sentence her to a life of humiliation. Best of all, the nightmares had stopped.

Six weeks had passed since the humiliated presentation when Clair could hear Marc’s screams from across the office.  “They are investing,” he pumped his fists into the air in celebration. 

Clair suddenly saw dollar signs along with her rise in success on her passion project.  Although her nightmare had come true, she realized she delivered the one thing that mattered, a perfect product.  And that was really what had mattered.