THE TALE OF FRANKENTEDDY
The story of a million dollar Beanie Baby that almost wasn't
I worked for Ty Inc., the makers of Beanie Babies, for five years. Great job! I worked with good people and got to create a few of those beloved stuffed animals along the way. My pride and joy is Frankenteddy, who earned the company an estimated revenue of one million dollars in two months. But that almost didn't happen because Frankenteddy almost didn't get made.
"Frankenteddy earned the company an estimated
revenue of one million dollars in two months."
revenue of one million dollars in two months."
I was sitting at my desk hard at work fighting tooth and nail in a bidding war on Ebay for a Catwoman Cookie Jar, (I was on lunch) when Joy, the Creative Director, burst through the door.
“Mark, could you follow me please.” she asked.
Like Chewbacca does with Han Solo, I journeyed along beside her without question to the conference room.
However, my heart was racing, anxiety was gushing like old faithful, and the whole time a voice whispered in my head, "You’re fired! You’re fired! Holy (insert word of your choice here) you’re fired!" Because when my boss says, “Could you follow me please?" I usually think I screwed something up.
We stepped into the conference room. Sitting at the table was the Vice President, and a few other ladies and gentlemen of importance, which at that moment I definitely thought I was being fired.
“Mark, Joy tells us you’re into Halloween.” the vice president initiated.
Relieved that I wasn’t fired, I blurted out with lots of overzealousness, “Yeah, what do you want to know! The History of Halloween? Ghost stories? Vampire Folklore?”
“We need fresh ideas for some new Halloween Beanie Babies.” the VP stated.
“Well, bears are popular, and you have a bear for every other holiday, so why not tear apart several of the most popular bears, take a piece from each one, stitch together a new bear, and call him Frankenteddy.” I suggested with much enthusiasm.
Blank stares accompanied the uncomfortable silence.
“Too morbid,” they replied, dismissing the idea, and crushing my dream.
During this time there was a Halloween contest we had created for the internet called “Dress your Beanie for Halloweenie!” in which the employees of Ty dressed up their favorite Beanie Baby in a costume, then we photographed each Beanie, uploaded the images to the internet, and the public voted for their favorite. So I took several Beanie Baby Bears home, dismembered them, took a piece from each one, stitched them back together creating the first Frankenteddy, then entered him into the “Dress your Beanie for Halloweenie” contest and waited for the results. Out of sixty entries he came in fourth.
The Ty website had a message board where many people commented on how much they loved Frankenteddy and hoped he would be produced, so I copied and printed all the positive feedback and presented it along with the prototype to my boss, Joy the Creative Director, and she presented it to the executives. An hour later Joy stepped into the art department.
“They are going to produce Frankenteddy,” she announced.
Frankenteddy was available to purchase for two months, and in that time earned Ty an estimated revenue of one million dollars, and the prototype was auctioned off for charity selling at $13,000 dollars.