"It's official: We've gotta find somebody to replace Dolly Parton!" Andrew Keller booms to a small group of account executives making their way into his remarkably uncluttered office.

Keller, 34, the number-two creative executive at Miami ad agency Crispin Porter + Bogusky, leans back in an Aeron chair and plants a pair of sneakered feet firmly against the edge of his desk, noisily drumming a black plastic ballpoint pen against his knee as the group gets settled. In the hallway, Alex Bogusky, the agency's 41-year-old creative wunderkind, ushers the account people into Keller's office, dancing haltingly back and forth like a boxer readying himself to jump into the ring.

"What about the Judds?" Bogusky breezily chimes in, making the entire room fall silent despite the soft-spokenness of his suggestion. Bogusky, who by this time has also grabbed an Aeron and firmly planted his own sneakered feet on the wall, rubs his baby-faced chin, looking perplexed. "Is Naomi the mother? The mother's the hot one. She's a sexy, sexy lady."

The room bursts with laughter. Off-color jokes about the mother-Judd comment wing back and forth for several minutes until the group slowly gets back on track, sporadically throwing out names of other female country stars to replace Dolly. Meanwhile, Bogusky grabs a nearby laptop and begins Googling pictures of the Judds, ignoring the conversation that swirls around him.

Then Bogusky looks up from the computer and glances mischievously around the room. Again, everyone freezes. "Maybe we should get a man instead," he says with a prankster's grin. Chaos reigns for the next five minutes. Keller simultaneously talks and listens as suggestions fly in every direction. He finally takes back control of the meeting and ticks off a short list of women and men who will be considered to star in an ad. End of discussion. Next agenda item: Burger King's July campaign.

This small, mostly informal meeting on a balmy December day -- typical of the many like it that happen all the time in the agency's 300-person-strong Coconut Grove headquarters -- was called in part to recast a Burger King television spot that was to break in mid-February to push the chain's latest chicken sandwich, the Bacon Cheddar Ranch. The original concept had been to have the ample Dolly belt out the tune "Big Rock Candy Mountain" on a surreal fantasy ranch where an average working Joe could escape reality for a custom-made "Have It Your Way" meal.

Though the scene in Keller's office could have occurred at any ad shop across the country, it was in exactly this kind of half-formal setting -- where play mixes seamlessly with work, and minor setbacks are taken as opportunities to challenge existing ideas -- that CP+B hatched the ad industry's blockbuster hit of last year (a Web site, no less): Burger King's Subservient Chicken. For the seven or so people who've never heard of the campaign, let's just say it involves a man, a dingy apartment, a chicken suit, and a garter belt. He hangs out in front of his Webcam all day -- or at least that's the illusion -- and happily accommodates almost any request a user can think to type in. (Suggestions for lewd acts are met with a "naughty naughty" shake of the wing.)