Episode 3: Deceptor Strikes Back

The rain came through in torrents and a dark-colored fog obscured every building in the usually buzzing downtown. It was past midnight, although time was of no particular issue to the most premiere of all content marketing agencies, and the home of our heroes, The Contentinators®. But this night, they were worried. Something was off, something amiss in the musty orange lights of the city below.

“He should have checked in by now,” Captain Content muttered quietly, to no one in particular. Engage was sitting with her six cell phones all in arms-reach, laptop in front of her, scanning social media feeds for any clues. Sleuth hadn’t spoken for hours but was busy researching newly-posted pieces of content for hidden messages.

The Curator had left the night before, with Mr. Patches’ poking out of his custom made riding satchel, on a mission to find information, and he hadn’t returned since. No calls, no tweets, no updates, no posts, no voicemails, no e-mails. His digital trace had vanished.

So, they were worried.

“He should have checked in.“

Engage’s fourth cell phone rang (tone: Velvet Revolver’s Superhuman), cutting Captain Content’s anxious musing short. A call at this hour was no surprise, a good content marketing agency makes itself available at all hours, but they held their breath as she answered, hoping for some word.

“The Contentinators,” she answered firmly and clearly; her outreach impeccable in any medium. 80% of Internet users own a smartphone. She listened for a moment, her eyes betraying nothing, then she set the phone down and put it on speaker.

“The Contentinators, in our grip at last,” the voice yelled, followed by a wild cackle. Sleuth typed as he listened. “We’ve captured your comrade, the Curator; he fell into a bit of a trap. Information overload, it seems. Devious, indeed, I must say, even by Deceptor Marketing standards. We will release him, but only if you supply us with online content capable of eliciting a response rate higher than we’ve been able to reach. The Curator would tell us nothing of your methods.”

“Of course, he wouldn’t,” Captain Content gritted through his teeth. “Our content is exclusive.”

“Exclusive or not, Captain Content, you have six hours, or we’ll lower the Curator to his doom in a vat of our acidic mail-order advertisements.”  

The laughter coming through the speaker rose, and the line went dead. Captain Content slammed his fist into a desk. The audacity, the outright cruelty, of these Deceptor Marketing monsters. If only they could focus their power of deception for good…..

He regrouped: “Hear anything in the voice, Engage?”

“He’s safe, for now,” she said calmly, “but I sense anxiety. The Curator is tough to hold for long.”

“Sleuth? Pick up any background information.”

“Water lapping against softwood, maybe 18-yards from the location of the cell call. Sounded like pressure treated cedar to me. And I heard the distant call of a Pandion haliaetus below flight-level.”

“An osprey?"

“Correct.”

They all looked up and made eye contact at once: this content marketing agency works on a creative wavelength they can all ride together.

“The docks!” The Contentinators said in one voice.


They rushed downstairs to the ContentinatorWing, chrome plated, and fit with jet engines of pure above-military grade. Interstellar capabilities were added as an extreme luxury. 

“Do you know how we can afford these toys?” Captain Content grinned as he got into the cockpit. They all knew the answer but he said it aloud anyway: “Content marketing produces triple as many leads as traditional outbound marketing.”

“And costs 62% less to create,” Engage added, with a smirk.

“Let’s go get our hero back,” The Captain said. He fired up the engine and blasted into the night, cutting through the rain and smog like a tightly sharpened jigsaw blade, the Contentinators at their individual stations. The destination was obvious, and the minions of Deceptor Marketing were the target soon to be precisely engaged.

Next Month, our heroes return! Episode 4: Content Showdown, Dockside