It's the fantasy of everyone who's ever been an Art Director, Creative Director, Copywriter... to leave leave their crappy job, crappy clients and crappy, deflated ego in a glorious (but suitably pithy) buuuurrrrnnnn.
You know - the kind of buuuurrrrnnnn leaving an open can of sardines tucked behind your dorm-room dresser for the next shmuck to find...
It's cruel, dysfunctional and wrong. Thankfully few people actually make-good on their fantastic "F-YOU!" and simply quit their jobs to go onto other, hopefully more productive, careers.
But a few...
"Honey, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MORE!! I hate the Ad Business, I hate Ford Motor Company, I hate dealing with talent agencies and I hate working with Photographers! I'm coming home unemployed!"
"That's ok darling. We have enough food to last the week...have you written a resignation letter?"
"HA! JUST WATCH!"
And behold - the cover of the 1969 Ford Falcon sales brochure, complete with demon-child, hearse (with ironic "Sports Coupe" script) and last-rites bouquet (before the human sacrifices begin, shortly after sun-down).
Well played, angry creative-type. Well played indeed.
*And, according to a few angry old people, the year that consummated the decline of civilization.