Most promotions that fail were always going to fail. Not because of bad luck or a soft market — because something in the design was broken before the first entry arrived. And the uncomfortable part is how visible those flaws usually are in hindsight: a cashback set just below the effort of claiming it, an entry form asking for ten fields when it needed four, a single hero prize nobody genuinely believed they could win. Everyone in the launch meeting could have spotted the problem. Nobody was asked to look for it.
That’s the job of the Kill Sheet. It comes from The Shelf Truth, the promotional strategy guide we published at Trevor Services, and it exists for one reason: the cheapest time to find out a promotion won’t work is before it launches.
What is the Kill Sheet?
The Kill Sheet is a 15-minute pre-launch diagnostic for promotional campaigns. It tests an idea against the small set of failure points that sink most promotions — a muddled objective, reward maths that don’t work from the shopper’s side, too much entry friction, and unmanaged budget exposure — before any money is committed.
It is deliberately not a creative review. It doesn’t ask whether the idea is clever, on-brand, or likely to win an award. It asks whether the mechanics underneath the idea can actually deliver what the brand needs. A promotion can pass the Kill Sheet and still be dull — that’s a different problem — but a promotion that fails it will not be rescued by better creative. The rest of this article walks through the questions.
Does the promotion have one job?
The first check is the One Job Rule: a promotion should be built to do one thing — drive trial, drive frequency, build baskets, or capture data. Not all four.
This is the check that kills the most ideas, because promotions accumulate objectives the way meetings accumulate attendees. The brief starts as a trial driver, then someone adds a data-capture requirement, then a loyalty element, then a request to lift basket size while we’re at it. Each addition sounds costless. Each one adds a form field, a condition, or a compromise to the prize structure, and the mechanic ends up doing four jobs badly instead of one job well. If you can’t state the single objective in one sentence — and name the metric that will prove it worked — stop there. Fifteen minutes well spent.
Would the shopper do the maths?
The second check is the shopper’s side of the deal, and the framework here is the 3-Second Equation: reward plus belief, divided by friction. A shopper standing at a shelf gives a promotion about three seconds of thought. The reward has to feel worth it, they have to believe they could actually receive it, and the effort of participating has to feel proportionate.
Each part of that equation is a place ideas die. A reward can sit below the Insult Threshold — an amount so small that asking someone to upload a receipt for it does more brand damage than no promotion at all. Belief collapses when the prize structure is one distant jackpot; it recovers when there are enough winners that winning feels possible, which is why how you distribute a prize pool is usually a more important decision than how big it is. And friction compounds quietly: every extra field on an entry form, every additional step between purchase and claim, costs a share of the entries you would otherwise have received. In the campaigns we process at Trevor Services, the promotions that underperform their forecasts are far more often over-complicated than under-funded.
What happens if it works too well — or barely at all?
Budget exposure runs in both directions, and the Kill Sheet asks about both.
If the promotion works better than planned, what is the liability? An uncapped cashback or gift-with-purchase offer scales with every qualifying sale, and a genuinely appealing offer on a high-volume product can redeem well past the forecast. There are established ways to manage this — capping redemptions, structuring the offer, or insuring the promotion so the downside is a known premium rather than an open-ended cost. The failure isn’t having exposure; it’s launching without having decided how much of it you’re carrying.
If it works worse than planned, the question flips: does the budget only make sense at a low redemption rate? Cashback budgets in particular often lean on slippage — the share of eligible buyers who never get around to claiming. Slippage is real and it’s a legitimate part of cashback economics, but a budget that collapses if claiming turns out to be easy is a budget built on hope. Write down the redemption rate the plan assumes, and what happens at double that rate. If the answer is unpresentable, the idea needs restructuring, not optimism.
What are the questions nobody asks until launch week?
The last section of the Kill Sheet is the unglamorous one, and it’s where execution quietly decides the outcome. Does the promotion need a trade promotion permit? In Australia the answer depends on the mechanic and the states involved — games of chance generally need authorisation in NSW, the ACT and South Australia — we’ve covered the state permit rules separately — and permit lead times don’t negotiate with launch dates. Who validates the receipts, and what happens when someone submits the same one twice? Who pays the winners, how fast, and through what channel? None of these are interesting questions in the planning meeting. All of them are very interesting three days after launch.
The same goes for the market you’re launching into. A mechanic that looks fresh in the boardroom may be the fourth of its kind in the category this quarter, and the shopper at the shelf sees all four. It’s worth spending ten minutes checking what’s actually live before committing — our colleagues at Bamboo Marketing wrote a good piece on using competitive intelligence in promotional design that covers how to do this properly. At Trevor we lean on Trudy, our promotional intelligence platform, which tracks a couple of hundred live Australian promotions at any given time — enough to know quickly whether your instant win is a point of difference or wallpaper.
Fifteen minutes, honestly answered
The Kill Sheet only works if the answers are honest, which is harder than it sounds when a room full of people already likes the idea. That’s the real reason to run it as a named, deliberate step rather than trusting that someone will speak up: it gives the sceptic a mandate. One job, named and measurable. Shopper maths that survive three seconds of scrutiny. Budget exposure that’s been decided rather than discovered. Permits, validation and payment answered before launch week. An idea that clears those hurdles has earned its budget.
If you’ve got a promotion on the whiteboard and you want it pressure-tested by people who’ve seen a few hundred of them run, we’re happy to talk it through.

