"Any product in the world..."

It's a good question. He really has to think about it, combing his fingers through his unruly hair as he does, then rubbing his chin thoughtfully. People don't usually ask him things like that. They ask him whether he likes his job, whether it's exciting to design ads for airlines or luxury cars, but they don't ask him what he wants to do.

"I've always liked doing ads for food. There's something satisfying about it, selling people something that'll actually make them happy and not just make them think they're happy. And there're less moral concerns with food than there are with luxury products. We do some ads for companies owned by Dow Chemical, and I hate it, because they contribute directly to making the war worse, but I still take the paycheck, so I'm not exactly innocent, either."

He shrugs. "Anyway. Food of any kind. Or something futuristic that hasn't even been invented yet. Time machines. Spaceships."