Suddenly, you're in bright hallway, people rushing in all directions. Before you can get your bearings, you hear an authoritive and firm voice boom over the tannoy.

"Can whoever just pressed the big red button go to Drill Sergeant Mitchell's office..."

"NOW!"

What does Drill Sergeant Mitchell want with you? You've heard about the fearsome reputation of the infamous DSM.

There's no time to think. You realise the worst thing you can do is make him wait. Luckily, his office is opposite where you're standing.

As you prepare to knock on the door, you realise you're sweating like a thirteen-year-old kid waiting for the Principal.

Knock-knock.

"What?"

"Um... Excu..." DSM cuts you off before you utter two words.

"Get in here. Don't stand in the corridor like a lemon."

You open the door with trepidation, peeking around the doorframe before entering.

"Sit," DSM is a man of few words. You don't argue, and follow his instruction.

"And what do you call THIS?" He says, slamming a file on the desk.

"Well?... What have you got to say for yourself?"

"Uh... Well... I... Errr..." You've lost the ability to speak. Your brain isn't functioning. All you can manage are inaudible mumbles.

"I can see why you wanted my help. This is a horror show." DSM looks vexed. His face resembles the angry face emoji 😡😡😡

"Errr..." You're lost for words and only have time for an Um or Ah before DSM launches into his next tirade.

"I can't believe HQ keep sending me rookies like you. If I put you on the Battlefeed, the algorithm will kill you in seconds."

After several awkward seconds that feel like a lifetime, DSM leans back in his chair and lets out a massive sigh. His anger seems to be subsiding.

"Ok. Here's the thing..." You lean forward to look attentive. "I don't know you, but I sense you're just trying to do your best. But you need to get back on track, and FAST! So, I'm going to make this easy for you."

You're unsure where this is going, so you nod and make positive Hmmm Hmmm noises.

"There's a program that's for a select group of people. You might have heard of it...

...Social Mavericks."

Holy crap. Social Mavericks is where people learn how to get consistent leads every week without spending endless hours creating content and "engaging" on social media.

And DSM wants YOU to join!

"But before I let you anywhere near Social Mavericks, I need to make sure you're ready?"

"Errr..." You stutter, tripping over your words. The nervousness in your voice is unmistakable.

There's an agonising pause.

You wait.

And wait.

...

...

...

...

…

And wait some more.

"I've got several simple missions for you to complete over the next couple of days." DSM sounds weirdly calm, almost friendly. You're not knocking it. It's progress.

"If you can complete these missions as fast as possible, I MIGHT let you join Social Mavericks." DSM slides a file across the desk. "This is your first mission."

You pick up the file and read the title.