Clark: Winbig sets the stage for truthful ad campaign

The Washington State Lottery’s latest campaign to steal our money is apparently going over like a rancid fruitcake.

To spur holiday scratch ticket sales, the lottery folks have dumped nearly 800 grand on a big media push centered on a deranged, mustachioed cartoon spokesman called Mr. Winbig.

Mr. Winbig’s erratic patter reminds me of a cross between Pee-wee Herman and comedian Bobcat Goldthwait. But as our news story reported, a number of lottery customers have accused Mr. Winbig of being “bizarre and moronic.”

If I had a buck every time a reader said that about me, I’d be writing this from my downtown penthouse instead of from the worn-out sofa in my den.

On Monday, I went on www.walottery.com to see what all the fuss is about.

I watched a couple of Mr. Winbig’s wacky animated commercials. I especially liked Mr. Winbig’s version of “Jingle Bells” where he sang:

“Jingle bells. Jingle bells. Bouncy, bouncy, ball … I’m a chicken. Bark, bark, bark.”

Mr. Winbig also gave me a holiday tip:

“Don’t make a pair of pants out of candy canes. Yeah, of course it’s snazzy, but people will not stop licking your legs.”

Mr. Winbig was obviously created by crack smokers.

But give the Washington State Lottery some credit. It’s not often you see giant larcenous organizations take public relations risks. This tells me that the lottery is ready for an even edgier ad campaign:

Like honesty.

I’m talking about reminding the public that the odds of actually hitting it big in the lottery or on scratch tickets are on par with getting Jennifer Aniston to perform a nude halftime show at your rec room Super Bowl party.

As a Christmas present, I have sketched out a couple of commercials for the Washington State Lottery’s next over-the-top advertising drive. I call my lottery promotion …

The Adventures of Mr. & Mrs. Loseyerass.

Commercial 1

The scene begins in a typical cluttered convenience store. The front door opens.

It’s Mr. Loseyerass. He walks quickly to the front counter where a pimply faced cashier awaits.

“Howdy, Chet,” says Mr. Loseyerass. “I’ve got only five bucks to tide me over until payday. But I’m feeling lucky. Put it all on scratch tickets. Oh, and gimme some winners this time. The missus says baby Pariah needs a vaccination.”

“I’ll try my best, sir,” says Chet as he passes over the tickets.

Mr. Loseyerass hovers over the counter, furiously scratching.

“Loser,” he mutters. “Loser. Loser. …”

“Better luck next time,” chirps Chet.

Mr. Loseyerass, crestfallen, shambles for the front door as the mellifluous voice of an unseen announcer speaks:

“The Washington State Lottery. It’s like tossing your money down a rat hole.”

Commercial 2

We begin with a close-up of a ringing telephone. A woman’s hand picks up the receiver. The camera retreats to reveal Mrs. Loseyerass seated at a cluttered table.

“Hello?” she says in a slightly fearful tone.

“Is this the Loseyerass residence?” asks a male voice.

“Yes.”

“This is Bill Stillborn at Acme Power & Gas. Our records show that you are delinquent again in paying your heat and light bill. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but we’re going to cut off your power unless we get a payment today.”

A ray of hope sparkles in the eyes of Mrs. Loseyerass. She reaches into a pile of papers and pulls out her last unscratched scratch ticket.

“Mr. Stillborn,” says Mrs. Loseyerass, “I think my ship’s about to come in.”

She scratches. Triumphant music swells.

Mrs. Loseyerass stares at the losing ticket in disbelief. She buries her face in her hands and silently sobs while the same announcer booms:

“The Washington State Lottery. Suckerrrrrrz!!!”