The Lost Receipt
HNRY
This is a campaign that broke all the rules.
It had to.
Because it needed to appear to be the deranged work of one man, pushed too far by tax season.
Our hero’s campaign to find his tiny paper amigo had a naïve, grass-roots feel to it, but also needed to entertain at every turn. Unfortunately, despite getting offers of help from up and down the country, he eventually had to give up his search and file an incomplete tax return, revealing to an intrigued following that, next time… he’ll just leave it to Hnry.
Agency: FCB
Copywriter: David Shirley
Illustrator: Janine Wareham
"Does anyone have a plane I can borrow? Was just thinking if I was higher up, I might be able to see my receipt. I went up a hill yesterday, but it’s just not high enough. Even after standing on the chair I took. If the plane could tow a banner that’d be killer… Then I could get my message out there better. Happy to share costs too, if someone has their own message and wants to go halves in the banner? It could say something like, “MARRY ME SUSAN! ALSO, HAS ANYONE SEEN MY RECEIPT?"
"This is the pocket my receipt used to live in. Please, I’m not mad – I just want you to come home."
"Ok, new plan. I worked out that, just like my receipt, socks are always getting lost, right? So, I’ve tied myself to one of my gym socks. When it goes missing, it’ll lead me straight to my receipt. Oh… and the neighbours’ cat is always going missing too, so I’ve borrowed Mr Meowgi for the week. Sleeping comfortably has become a problem."
"I saw this movie last night where these guys in balaclavas rolled up in a van and just grabbed someone off the street. And I’m like, “Daaaamn! Maybe my receipt was abducted.” Explains why I haven’t heard from it. Also, it made me realise I shouldn’t say “Daaaamn” – I just can’t pull off that level of sass. Anyway, I drew this picture of what three guys abducting a receipt might’ve looked like. Ring any bells?"
"It’s over. My receipt is never coming back. Aunty Cheryl says I just have to accept it, like what happened with my dog, Gavin. Which is weird, because Gavin didn’t die - he’s living on a farm up north. But, not somewhere we can visit... ever. Wait, did Gavin die? Aunty Cheryl, that’s not cool - I’ve been mailing dog biscuits to that fake address you gave me since I was, like 10. That means some random farmer’s been receiving dog food in the mail for 20 years. He probably thought he’d wronged someone and they were striking back with canine-treat-based-hatred. Did I run some poor farmer out of town because of your lies, Aunty Cheryl?! Anyway... thanks for your help New Zealand. I’ve given up on finding my receipt and had to file an incomplete tax return. Next time I’ll leave it to @hnrynz."
"Hopefully, my receipt didn’t die in vain. I mean, if I can save just one of you the pain of tax season it was all worth it. Like, I’ve found out you don’t need to keep a shoebox full of receipts… With @hnrynz, you just take a photo of it, upload it and throw it away. So, you can use that shoebox for something else, I guess. Some suggestions off the top of my head – it could be a home for your gerbil, Phil? Your gerbil could have a different name – I just like that one. Could also be part of a robot you might be building? If you are building a robot, please don’t make it really super smart though. I’m genuinely concerned that one day they’ll take over. Actually… on that point, if you happen to even just run into any robots during your day, please be nice to them. Maybe then they’ll be nice to us when they’re in charge."