Another day, another 1970s era suburban think tank. Or drunk tank.
So “more than sixteen and a half million bottles of VP will be opened,” huh? Well, here’s where most of the bottles were opened.
And VP also wants you to know that its primary virtue is that it is – well, cheap. Really cheap! It’s the drink we can all afford – even if we are the kind of morons who go out and spend ridiculous amounts of money on really stupid-looking hats.
Say, how much was that hat anyway? I suspect that no matter what the tweed-turtleneck woman paid, it was no bargain! They should have paid her to take the hat away. (And what’s with that tweed turtleneck, anyway? Was that a bargain, too?)
Well, at least her friends have some advice! Sort of.
The woman in the middle, who is on her second bottle of VP, and has also bought a stupid hat, is urging her on: “Go on! He’ll love it!” What does she mean, go on? It’s already been bought – signed, sealed and delivered! I guarantee you there’s a no-return policy on this hat. The shop never, ever wants to see it again. Can’t you just see them after closing time, having a laugh? Hope she comes back soon, there’s some more stuff in the back we can’t unload!
The third woman doesn’t care about anything but the VP. And after another glass she is going to tell her friend just how silly her new hat is. That’ll be really fun!
And not only is VP cheap, if you drink enough of it, you can hear the bottle talking to you. It is, apparently, obsessed with its own price. It probably feels left out of the conversation. It should stop talking about itself and do a little magic trick. Like pull a bottle of VP out of one of the hats. They’ll be listening to whatever that bottle is saying then!
In answer to Amy‘s excellent question in the comments – VP stands for Vine Products (though I do wish it stood for Vile Plonk). Here is the link to a 1940s ad for this stuff – thank heavens you could get it despite the wartime rationing!