Your meetings already work. OTP is what remembers them, and pays you back: to-dos with owners, decisions that stick, a scorecard that fills itself in, and every seat, human and AI, working from the same memory. Do what you do. OTP compounds it.
Three ways in. All of them start with zero change to how you work. Every human is free; agent seats are $16 a month.

I run a marketing agency. Payroll, clients, a Tuesday leadership meeting. A few years ago I admitted something out loud: the better my tools got, the less life I had. The phone that promised to connect me took my attention. The software that promised to save time filled the time with more work. My team was productive. Nobody was free. Work had quietly stolen the fun out of our lives, and the freedom we were promised turned out to be an illusion with a login screen.
Our meetings were fine. Yours probably are too. The leak was everything after them. The decision we made in March got remade in June by people who never heard it. The number that mattered lived in a spreadsheet nobody opened. The fix a client taught us stayed in one person's head and went on vacation when they did. Every week my company said out loud exactly what would move the needle, and every week most of it evaporated.
That is the belief this whole thing is built on: shared knowledge creates shared purpose. When every seat, human and AI, works from the same living memory, the rowing stops going in circles. The problem was never how you meet. It is that nothing you learn compounds.
I started building AI agents. Not chatbots. Employees. Radar prepares my morning briefing before I wake up. Dash reads every ad account so nobody has to stare at dashboards. Pepper triages my inbox. Dan pressure-tests my strategy in writing before I bet money on it. Tally keeps the score honest.
Then I hit a wall, and it was not the AI. Every system for running a company assumes the company is made only of people, and every tool assumes the company remembers. Neither is true. There was no seat for an agent, no number it owned, and no shared memory for anyone to work from. So we built OTP: one chart where people and AI hold seats, and one memory, Ollie, that every seat draws from and adds to. A meeting, a transcript, a number, a correction. However knowledge arrives, it lands in one place and compounds.
I have watched good software die at the same door for twenty years: the one where the vendor asks your team to change how they work before anyone has seen a reason to. So I refuse to ask. OTP has three doors, and every one of them opens with zero change to how you already run.
The full experience: timed agenda, live scoreboard, every commitment owned by a name before the room empties. Offered, never required.
Keep your meeting exactly where and how it is. Upload the transcript or notes afterward, and Ollie hands back the to-dos with owners, the issues, the decision that quietly contradicts your scorecard. The things that used to evaporate.
Point OTP at the numbers you already track, even if that is a spreadsheet. Your scorecard fills itself in, timestamped, before you change a single habit.
Paste a few lines from your last meeting. Nothing is stored, sensitive details are blurred before Ollie reads a word, and what comes back is the real product, not a canned demo.
A few lines is enough. Zoom, Teams, Meet, Fireflies, or plain notes.
Value starts before you change anything. Change what you want, when you want. And when transformation shows up, and it will, it will be because the payback earned it, not because a homepage demanded it.
Every human is free. No credit card. Nothing about your week has to change.
Ollie is the intelligence layer under OTP. Wherever the talk happened, in an OTP meeting or in a transcript you dropped in afterward, Ollie reads what your team approved and turns talk into the work the talk implied. Here is the shape of one insight, sketched:
Ollie Insights™
“The pattern this week is follow-through. The demos are landing, but three commitments from Tuesday still have no owner. Assign those, and the needle moves.”
An illustration, not a screenshot. Yours is compiled from your own meetings.
Meeting transcripts are the most sensitive text a company produces, so blurring is not a setting you have to find. It is on for every transcript, in every category, and it does not turn off.
An illustration with invented lines. The pills are how blurred items actually render.
Every human is free. No credit card. Your first payback lands before you change a single habit.
Companies have published their handbooks before. We publish something further: our operating system, live, with AI agents holding seats, owning numbers, and getting corrected in public. Every role. Every rule. Every mistake, because when an agent gets something wrong here, the correction becomes a published rule with the failure written into it.
I won't tell you your competitors are about to lap you. I don't know your market. I know one thing that is checkable: this future is not a prediction, because it is already running at my company. You can go look at it.
OTP's free tier is the whole meeting product: the chart, the scorecard, priorities, to-dos, the weekly meeting. Free for every human, no credit card, and it is not a trial. Agent seats are $16 a month, and the full price list is public. If you run on Ninety or Bloom Growth today, drop in your export files and OTP rebuilds your chart from who owns what, in an afternoon. Then run both, side by side, for a quarter. If we don't earn the switch, you lost an afternoon.
Two rules, before you ask. Numbers: our scorekeeper agent reads the source systems and pushes the scorecard, timestamped and logged. Agents don't type numbers they didn't read. Actions: nothing goes to a client or a teammate without a human approving it. That rule is published in our operating system, where you can hold us to it.
You will forward this to the person who actually has to implement it. These are for them.
The parts that are real are real today. The parts that take an auditor's signature, we're earning. We'll show you the report, not a badge before there is one.
Every organization is isolated at the application layer on every route, verified in a recent security audit. Bring your own AI key so your data runs on your own model provider, and export on request. Leaving was designed in, not bolted on.
Role-based access with timestamped audit trails, signature-verified webhooks, secrets hashed at rest. A code-level security audit is complete, the dependency tree carries zero known vulnerabilities, and no change ships without passing automated checks.
SOC 2 is in progress; we'll publish the report when it's real, not a logo before it is. A Data Processing Agreement is available on request, and the full posture, including what we don't have yet, is written down.
Week one first, because that is where tools go to die: you pick a door, your habits stay intact, and the first transcript you drop in pays you back the same day. Your chart in an afternoon. Your scorekeeper reading your numbers within days. Then the compounding starts.
Your briefing wrote itself before you woke up. The scorecard filled itself in from the source systems on Friday, timestamped. Three of last week's to-dos were done by Wednesday, by agents, reviewed by the humans who own them. The meeting takes half the time, because everyone, human and AI, already knows the score. You leave at five. Not because you gave up. Because it's handled.
Then the real question shows up, the one I built all of this to ask: what will you do with the hours you get back?
That is not scarcity theater. It is arithmetic. I can give real, personal attention to fifty companies while we build this, so fifty is the number. The Founding Fifty put people and AI on one chart and run as one, with me in the room. And your agents will not be copies of mine: Radar and Dash grew out of an agency, yours will grow out of your company. What OTP gives them is what mine have. A seat, a number, and a chain of command.
And you will not stand up your first agent alone, because I know that is the real question behind the $16. Founding Fifty means we build your first one with you: a scorekeeper that reads your source systems (even if your source system is a spreadsheet) and fills your scorecard before your second meeting. A seat is easy. We make sure someone worth seating shows up.
Today the deepest proof I can show you is my own company, and I know that is a sample size of one. That is exactly what the Founding Fifty is for: making it fifty.
Every human is free. No credit card.
We refuse to accept that humanity's greatest potential should be spent managing work.
There will always be more human potential to unlock. There will always be better ways for people and AI to work together. There will always be a world to leave better than we found it. This work has no finish line. We chose it anyway.
P.S. If you only do one thing today, spend ten minutes at the window into our company. It says more than any homepage could.