The Undertaker

You bury other people's work for a living. This is the tool that opens the conversation, with your name on it.

The meeting you already know how to lose

You knew what was wrong with their site by the second page. You always do. The diagnosis has never been the hard part.

The hard part is saying it to someone who is proud of the thing, without sounding like a person angling for the invoice. So you soften it. They nod. Nothing lands. The proposal goes out and is never answered, because nobody in that room ever admitted out loud that there was a problem worth paying to fix.

That is not a sales skills problem. It is a messenger problem. You cannot be both the one who says the work is failing and the one who profits from saying so, not in the same sentence, not to a stranger.

So let something else say it

An inquest reads five pages of their site, chosen the way a customer would find them, and cross-examines them against each other. It names what the home page promises that the pricing page cannot keep. It says which sentence a stranger bounces on. Then it hands over a thirty day plan.

It has no relationship to protect and no invoice to win, which is exactly why it gets believed. You walk in holding it. The bad news arrives from a machine, and you get to be the only person in the room who already has the fix.

How it works

1. Send the URL. An email with a link in it. There is no dashboard to learn and no seat to provision.
2. We read five pages and write it. Nine sections, roughly two thousand words, every claim quoted from their own site so it can be checked line by line.
3. You get the PDF, with your logo on it. Your branding, your name as the sender. Forward it, print it, or open the meeting with it on the table.

What it is worth to you

Ten inquests a month at the founding rate is $299. They retail at $149 each, so ten is $1,490 of work.

But the retail price is not the number that matters. One retainer you would not otherwise have won pays for the entire year. If ten honest autopsies a month cannot open a single door that was previously shut, stop after the first month. That is the whole risk.

An actual one, on a real site

This is not a sample we wrote to look good. It is a genuine inquest, produced by the same code yours would be, on the site belonging to the person who built this. He goes first here; that is the arrangement.

Below is THE GAP, the section that only exists because five pages were read instead of one. It is the section your prospect cannot argue with, because every quote in it came off their own site.

Read the whole thing as the PDF your client would get

Who this is not for

If you need it white-labelled to the point that nobody can tell a machine wrote it, this is the wrong tool, and the illusion would break the moment your client reads two paragraphs of it. The voice is dry and it is unsparing and it is obviously not you. That is the feature. It is why it gets believed and why you do not have to own what it says.

It is also useless on a site that will not load, or on a one-page holding page with nothing to cross-examine. It reads what is really there or it says it could not.

Being straight with you

The first customers get their inquests run by hand rather than through a self-serve dashboard. That is on purpose. Building a bulk credit system before knowing what an agency actually asks for would be building for an imagined customer, which is precisely the behaviour these obituaries exist to mock. You get a faster turnaround out of it and a direct line to the person who built the thing.

One person reads these and answers them himself, usually the same day.