How do you keep control of your brand image when employees, with cameras in hand and content-sharing social sites at the ready, start horsing around and putting the results up on the Internet? And just as importantly, how do you respond when the Web takes those videos viral?

Those are two problems currently facing pizza maker Domino’s, on the heels of a YouTube video that shows a pair of knuckleheaded employees, in logo’ed uniforms and caps, sticking sandwich makings up their noses (and worse) before inserting them into menu items. One pretends to sneeze on a sandwich (and, please do trust me on this, worse) and then boxes it up and puts it onto a shelf, apparently ready for serving.

He then drops trou and wipes his rear with a sponge, then applies it to a cooking pan in the sink while his female videographer giggles.

Apparently the video was posted to YouTube on April 13 by one or both of the pair, who were employed at a Domino’s in Conover NC until a blogger with Consumerist.com, a consumer activist Web site, brought the video to the company’s attention. They’re now not only fired but have reportedly been arrested and charged with food contamination.

The video has been pulled from YouTube “due to a copyright claim” by the filmer, and the account she used to upload the clip has been closed. But you can see them here. (You’re gonna want a light lunch after this.)

What does a brand do when this happens? In Domino’s case, the best they could, apparently. Domino’s VP of corporate communications Tim McIntyre sent a note thanking the blogger for bringing the video to his attention and reassuring that the pair “do not represent 125,000 people in 60 countries” who work for the company.

McIntyre even volunteered some follow-up, reporting in a separate e-mail that corporate had been in touch with the franchise owner and was seeking legal advice on action against the pair for damaging the brand.

Finally, late yesterday, Domino’s USA president Patrick Doyle posted his own video to YouTube, under the title “Disgusting Domino’s People—Domino’s Responds.” In it he explains that the Conover store was immediately closed for a 24-hour sanitizing, and that even though the pair claimed the video was a hoax, “We’re taking this incredibly seriously.”

As indeed they should. Before it was pulled, the Domino’s video got more than 930,000 views on YouTube. And even though it may not be available directly on YouTube, the incriminating—and off-putting—footage lives on on other Web sites that managed to capture it.

Granted, Doyle’s response video will probably rack up more than the 306 views it had received at press time. Even so, it’s doubtful it will log anything like the views of the original. That’s just the way people are: more interested in being grossed out than in hearing about the cleanup.

But the case is at once a good example of why brands need to be constantly watchful of their online reputations and at the same time a textbook illustration of how little they can do once the damage has been done—at least, from a PR perspective.

One question raised by Doyle’s response is about the pros and cons of putting the chief in front of the camera. Doyle certainly looks like a man aggrieved and starts his delivery with what I’m sure is a heartfelt sigh. But he’s very obviously reading the apology from a teleprompter—and not the good kind that sits just above the camera lens. As a result, what should seem sincere appears instead shifty and rather evasive.

Second, while Doyle talks about re-examining hiring practices to “make that people like this don’t make it into our stores,” he devotes equal time (in a two-minute video) to talking up how scrupulous the company’s “auditors” are about visiting stores, checking sanitation and food quality, etc.

While that’s undoubtedly true in the main, it’s not a persuasive argument at this juncture. Anyone watching Doyle’s video has already seen the gross-out clips; if the processes he defends broke down once, customers can conclude they could do so again. And who wants to take that chance?

Preferable would be to get specific about how the company will beef up safety checks, such as adding another 200 inspectors; instituting a new open store design to make the kitchens visible; or setting new rules that kitchen employees will be supervised by a senior manager at all times. Of course, making changes such as those might get a little complicated: About 94% of the company’s 8773 stores worldwide are run by franchisees—including the Conover NC outlet.

By the way, one measure reportedly being considered should not be included in a corporate apologia under any circumstances: the possibility of banning employee cameras in the store. That’s fine for Domino’s; to the public at large, it will look like they have things they want to hide. Solve your company problems inside the company. Statements like this should be about what the public wants or needs to hear.

But perhaps the biggest problem is that there is, at press time, no sign of Doyle’s response video on the main Domino’s USA Web site. Since that’s where many people will head to find more information about this story which is being picked up by news outlets both nationally and abroad, the omission of even a discreet “Quality Message from the President of Domino’s” seems like simply hoping the problem will go away.

It won’t, and in fact, it may easily get worse. As other companies that employ a lot of young, under-supervised, under-motivated workers are beginning to see, small cameras and content-sharing Web sites can be a troublesome combination. Last August a young man took video of himself taking a bath in a utility sink at a Xenia OH Burger King, then posted the video to his MySpace page. It also got pulled, but you can still find it on YouTube (436,000 views to date.)

And in December, three workers did the same in a sink at an Anderson CA KFC; then one posted the stills to her MySpace page, under the heading, “KFC Moments.” In both cases, the bathers were fired.

This is a fast-food Web tradition that dates back at least to November 2007 and a YouTube video called “KFC Washdown”, in which an unsuspecting worker gets tossed into a sink fully clothed by his colleagues. (Warning: Some strong language, all of it from the victim.)

Did these stupid pranks, or their even dumber broadcast, cripple the companies? Obviously not, although folks in Xenia and Anderson could be forgiven for changing their eating habits. Nevertheless, the persistence of these videos on the Web does foster an ongoing erosion of trust in the brands—particularly since if you find one fast-food bath clip, YouTube helpfully supplies links to the others in its “Related Videos” listings.

And then there are the comments, and the damage they can do. For example, to the news story about the KFC bathing belles, one apparently Australian commenter recently added, “omg I work at a kfc and we do worse lol.”

“Worse”? “Lol”?? Just watch. In these days of user-generated content, some fast-food worker who’s hungrier for Web celebrity than for a steady paycheck is going to take that as a challenge.

How do you keep control of your brand image when employees, with cameras in hand and content-sharing social sites at the ready, start horsing around and putting the results up on the Internet? And just as importantly, how do you respond when the Web takes those videos viral?

Those are two problems currently facing pizza maker Domino’s, on the heels of a YouTube video that shows a pair of knuckleheaded employees, in logo’ed uniforms and caps, sticking sandwich makings up their noses (and worse) before inserting them into menu items. One pretends to sneeze on a sandwich (and, please do trust me on this, worse) and then boxes it up and puts it onto a shelf, apparently ready for serving.

He then drops trou and wipes his rear with a sponge, then applies it to a cooking pan in the sink while his female videographer giggles.

Apparently the video was posted to YouTube on April 13 by one or both of the pair, who were employed at a Domino’s in Conover NC until a blogger with Consumerist.com, a consumer activist Web site, brought the video to the company’s attention. They’re now not only fired but have reportedly been arrested and charged with food contamination.

The video has been pulled from YouTube “due to a copyright claim” by the filmer, and the account she used to upload the clip has been closed. But you can see them here. (You’re gonna want a light lunch after this.)

What does a brand do when this happens? In Domino’s case, the best they could, apparently. Domino’s VP of corporate communications Tim McIntyre sent a note thanking the blogger for bringing the video to his attention and reassuring that the pair “do not represent 125,000 people in 60 countries” who work for the company.

McIntyre even volunteered some follow-up, reporting in a separate e-mail that corporate had been in touch with the franchise owner and was seeking legal advice on action against the pair for damaging the brand.

Finally, late yesterday, Domino’s USA president Patrick Doyle posted his own video to YouTube, under the title “Disgusting Domino’s People—Domino’s Responds.” In it he explains that the Conover store was immediately closed for a 24-hour sanitizing, and that even though the pair claimed the video was a hoax, “We’re taking this incredibly seriously.”

As indeed they should. Before it was pulled, the Domino’s video got more than 930,000 views on YouTube. And even though it may not be available directly on YouTube, the incriminating—and off-putting—footage lives on on other Web sites that managed to capture it.

Granted, Doyle’s response video will probably rack up more than the 306 views it had received at press time. Even so, it’s doubtful it will log anything like the views of the original. That’s just the way people are: more interested in being grossed out than in hearing about the cleanup.

But the case is at once a good example of why brands need to be constantly watchful of their online reputations and at the same time a textbook illustration of how little they can do once the damage has been done—at least, from a PR perspective.

One question raised by Doyle’s response is about the pros and cons of putting the chief in front of the camera. Doyle certainly looks like a man aggrieved and starts his delivery with what I’m sure is a heartfelt sigh. But he’s very obviously reading the apology from a teleprompter—and not the good kind that sits just above the camera lens. As a result, what should seem sincere appears instead shifty and rather evasive.

Second, while Doyle talks about re-examining hiring practices to “make that people like this don’t make it into our stores,” he devotes equal time (in a two-minute video) to talking up how scrupulous the company’s “auditors” are about visiting stores, checking sanitation and food quality, etc.

While that’s undoubtedly true in the main, it’s not a persuasive argument at this juncture. Anyone watching Doyle’s video has already seen the gross-out clips; if the processes he defends broke down once, customers can conclude they could do so again. And who wants to take that chance?

Preferable would be to get specific about how the company will beef up safety checks, such as adding another 200 inspectors; instituting a new open store design to make the kitchens visible; or setting new rules that kitchen employees will be supervised by a senior manager at all times. Of course, making changes such as those might get a little complicated: About 94% of the company’s 8773 stores worldwide are run by franchisees—including the Conover NC outlet.

By the way, one measure reportedly being considered should not be included in a corporate apologia under any circumstances: the possibility of banning employee cameras in the store. That’s fine for Domino’s; to the public at large, it will look like they have things they want to hide. Solve your company problems inside the company. Statements like this should be about what the public wants or needs to hear.

But perhaps the biggest problem is that there is, at press time, no sign of Doyle’s response video on the main Domino’s USA Web site. Since that’s where many people will head to find more information about this story which is being picked up by news outlets both nationally and abroad, the omission of even a discreet “Quality Message from the President of Domino’s” seems like simply hoping the problem will go away.

It won’t, and in fact, it may easily get worse. As other companies that employ a lot of young, under-supervised, under-motivated workers are beginning to see, small cameras and content-sharing Web sites can be a troublesome combination. Last August a young man took video of himself taking a bath in a utility sink at a Xenia OH Burger King, then posted the video to his MySpace page. It also got pulled, but you can still find it on YouTube (436,000 views to date.)

And in December, three workers did the same in a sink at an Anderson CA KFC; then one posted the stills to her MySpace page, under the heading, “KFC Moments.” In both cases, the bathers were fired.

This is a fast-food Web tradition that dates back at least to November 2007 and a YouTube video called “KFC Washdown”, in which an unsuspecting worker gets tossed into a sink fully clothed by his colleagues. (Warning: Some strong language, all of it from the victim.)

Did these stupid pranks, or their even dumber broadcast, cripple the companies? Obviously not, although folks in Xenia and Anderson could be forgiven for changing their eating habits. Nevertheless, the persistence of these videos on the Web does foster an ongoing erosion of trust in the brands—particularly since if you find one fast-food bath clip, YouTube helpfully supplies links to the others in its “Related Videos” listings.

And then there are the comments, and the damage they can do. For example, to the news story about the KFC bathing belles, one apparently Australian commenter recently added, “omg I work at a kfc and we do worse lol.”

“Worse”? “Lol”?? Just watch. In these days of user-generated content, some fast-food worker who’s hungrier for Web celebrity than for a steady paycheck is going to take that as a challenge.