Signal>Noise

Signal>Noise

The Build-A-Bear of AI Prompts (Yes, Really)

You pick. I build. You learn why it works.

Max Bernstein's avatar
Max Bernstein
Dec 27, 2025
∙ Paid

It’s the last week of December. I should be doing something else. Resting. Reading. Pretending to care about college football (my team is awful this year.)

Instead, I’m opening a prompt shop.

(I genuinely can’t help myself.)


If you don’t have kids, or your nieces and nephews live far away, you might not know what Build-A-Bear actually is.

It’s not just a stuffed animal store. It’s an experience.

You pick your bear, you stuff it yourself, you add a heart, you name it. The whole process takes twenty minutes and costs roughly the same as a regular teddy bear from Target…until you get smacked with the upsell outfits, accessories etc.

But the difference is kids don’t throw Build-A-Bear animals in a corner. They sleep with them. They name them. They cry when they lose them on airplanes.

Here’s a quick video that explains it better than I can (and shows why their stock has crushed the market):

The CEO nails it:

“It’s yours. You helped make it.”

There it is…THIS is the real insight.


Which brings me to the folder on your desktop called 'AI Stuff.'

Most people download prompts the way they buy stuffed animals from Target. They grab something that looks good, use it once, and forget it exists. The prompt sits in a folder called “AI Stuff” next to seventeen other prompts they saved from Twitter threads in 2023.

(Am I the only one who does this? Please tell me I’m not the only one who does this.)

The problem isn’t the prompts. It’s that they weren’t built for you.

  • A prompt that assumes you sell to CMOs won’t work if you sell to CFOs.

  • A prompt designed for coaches will frustrate consultants.

  • A prompt that expects you have transcripts falls apart if you only have notes.

You don’t have an AI problem. You have a specificity problem.


So here’s what I’m doing through New Year’s

You tell me what prompt you need. Be specific. Tell me your situation, what you’ve tried, what “perfect” would look like.

I build it. Custom. For your exact situation.

Then I hand it back with a breakdown of why each part works. The anatomy. The structure. The moves.

This isn’t just getting a fish. You’re learning to fish.

(Or you can just eat the fish. I won’t judge.)


The sneaky part

The act of filling out the request form is already the first lesson.

Most prompts fail because they’re too vague, missing context, or unclear on what success looks like. When you write out what you actually need, why you need it, and what the perfect output would be, you’ve already done the hard thinking.

The custom prompt is the bonus. The clarity is the gift.


So what makes a great request?

  • Be specific about your situation. “I’m a consultant who works with healthcare clients” beats “I work in business.”

  • Tell me what you’ve tried. If something hasn’t worked, I need to know so I don’t build you the same thing.

  • Dream big in the “perfect world” section. Describe exactly what this prompt would do if it worked flawlessly. That’s my target.


How this works (for paid subscribers):

  1. You submit a request through the form

  2. I build your prompt, custom, for your situation

  3. I post it in the community with a full anatomy breakdown (tag you unless you want to stay anonymous)

  4. I create a generalized version for the free prompt library

You get the bespoke version. Everyone else gets the template.

Paid subscribers: You get a custom prompt built for your exact situation, plus the full breakdown of why it works.

Free subscribers: You get access to generalized versions of every prompt I build. Same structures, same techniques, adapted for broader use.

You learn. They learn. I get to build prompts during the holidays instead of pretending to enjoy parades.

Win. Win. Win.


The shop is open.

User's avatar

Continue reading this post for free, courtesy of Max Bernstein.

Or purchase a paid subscription.
© 2026 Max Bernstein · Privacy ∙ Terms ∙ Collection notice
Start your SubstackGet the app
Substack is the home for great culture