--Bertha Oneshots--

Fixing up after a Recall

-SHORT-

Miss McClackerty couldn't focus on steadying her hand as she listened to an outraged voice on the telephone. It bitterly screamed in her ear about a massive flaw in their product, where it assumed that Spottiswood and Company were deliberately putting a hazard on the market to get more money. Of course, the last part wasn't true, but their buyers felt like they were being scammed out of their money because that product was expensive. This wasn't even the first call where the secretary had a displeased customer. It's not even the second. Or third. It's possibly about the fifth or sixth person. Something is very wrong with the product.

After apologising to someone for the sixth time on the telephone, Miss McClackerty placed it back on its stand and knocked on the door to the manager's office. Mr Willmake will know what to do, she thought reassuringly, whilst tapping her fingers in rhythm to the noise of the clock. The silence eased her thoughts yet the mixed feelings about these terrible reports are being played again in her head. Furious, disappointed, upset voices spinning round like a record player. Yet...it is the factory's responsibility to keep customers happy, and the secretary felt like they've made their customers lose their trust in them. That was the most difficult part about this problem.

A call then came from the other side, telling her she is allowed to come in. Twisting the doorknob slightly, she breathed in and came through the doorway. Mr Willmake spotted her instantly as she closed the door behind her. "We are receiving several complaints about our latest product, sir." she told the manager who was quick to give her eye contact after that sentence. "Complaints?" Mr Willmake questioned, "What sort of complaints Miss McClackerty?" The secretary in disquiet took off her glasses to clean them. "Our customers are saying that they're having difficulties getting the money out of the money boxes." she explained, the manager kept his eye contact on her. "Their fingers got trapped by the windmill's back door; and one person had to use a crowbar to free their hand from the money box. They are all demanding refunds, sir."

"My word.." Mr Willmake exclaimed as he got up from his desk. "This is very serious. If our customers are losing trust in us then we will lose orders for the factory." Miss McClackerty nodded in agreement and soon followed the manager's further command. She knew what will happen next upon noticing the sternness of his voice. But how could she tell the product's designer? Would he understand that it needed to be done? Of course he would. The company has a reputation for making top quality goods after all. It's their responsibility to fix the issue so people can trust Spottiswood again. In a more poignant yet serious matter, she picked up the phone to pass on the command.

Mr Sprott was quick to realise what the message was about, ruffling the collar of his shirt when his assistant, Tracey answered the phone. He knew what that meant.

A problem.

A flaw with his own product.

A product which was his best design.

The instructions were printed clearly on the box, seemingly oblivious to the hidden danger that came along with it. Just what went wrong? The designer only hoped that it was nothing as he met up with manager in the small office and took a seat. His voice felt like it was quivering with confusion and he hasn't even spoke one sentence yet. Nor has Mr Willmake who gave a slightly stern face.

"You...wanted to see me, sir?" Mr Sprott gulped. The manager coughed before speaking, "Yes. It's about your windmill money boxes." What about the money box? Was it more successful then expected? Maybe the manager is going to- "Our customers are complaining of getting injured from the windmill's door mechanism. They all want their money back." Mr Sprott just shook his head. "Sir, these accidents are probably happening because they didn't read the instructions on the box. It can't be because of the windmills." he claimed, knowing the situation the factory had with the money boxes before they were sent to the shops. The manager gave a more serious face. "Mr Sprott, they have read the instructions, yet they are still getting hurt from the product. You need to stop denying that the injuries were caused by a product that YOU designed. It is our responsibility to ensure that our customers are satisfied with the goods we produce. And that includes making sure it is safe to use."

Mr Sprott only just listened. They was no point dismissing the fault; there was no excuse for doing so. He never thought something that HE designed would do such a terrible thing. "I...understand sir.." he finally admitted. The truth struck him far in the gut, aching and tearing down his ego. "We have no choice. We must remove the product from the market before more people get hurt." Mr Willmake stresses.

"Wait...you mean..?"

"I'm afraid so Mr Sprott," said Mr Willmake, "The windmill money boxes have to be recalled. You and Tracy should start working on some notices for the shops." The designer took the command, feeling not so egotistical as he sat near his desk with several sheets of paper. These sheets only erase the check marks off the design, drawing the reality of what happens when you are too full of hot air. Now he is facing the consequences; and that only made him feel more worse.

Tracy had never seen this side of Mr Sprott before, having to have worked with him for a few years in the same office. She couldn't help but feel sympathetic when she peered over her desk and saw him prosaically writing on paper. The recall must've took away his confidence, she thought, and wondered what she could do to help get it back. Then, Tracy thought up a suggestion. She got up from her desk and stood next the chief designer, who was still curious to know as to why she stopped writing on the papers.

"Why don't you redesign the windmill money boxes?" she recommended. Mr Sprott was quick to shook his head, "No, no... it has become very clear that the customers don't want this product on the shelves again." he hesitated, looking down at his desk to avoid it being discussed further. Of course, Tracy wasn't going to accept defeat nor will she let him accept it. "Mr Sprott," she began explaining, "People are only upset because the back door of the money boxes wouldn't open and close properly. They liked the tune it plays and everything else; it's just that the money is tricky to collect after the box is full." That is true, Mr Sprott thought, taking note of the idea. "And, by redesigning the windmill money boxes with more safety measures, people won't have problems with it anymore." Tracy finished off.

"That is...a good idea!" Mr Sprott exclaimed. But, how could he fix it? With the time he had spare from the poster writing, Mr Sprott was soon scribbling down a newer version of the money box. One that will remove the negative reputation of its predecessor. What could he do to make it more safe?
Make the door out of different material? Mr Sprott doubts it would make the injuries stop. Nope. Add a button to press? Maybe, but where would he put it? Oh, make it discreet! That should disguise it from plain sight. Wait, the person with the money box will have to push the button and collect the coins at the same time. Replace the button with a lever. Done. That should fix the door issue.

Well, you can guess what happened next. When the product got the approval for being safety tested, fingers were crossed on its second attempt to win back Spottiswood's customers. At first, some refused to purchase the windmills, seeing the previous model did not sit well with the demand. But, of course, after many reviews congratulating on its redemption, many had happily bought the new money boxes. It was a success! Let's just hope another recall doesn't happen again...