HELL OF A DEAL, a supernatural satire

Chapter Twelve

12

The following morning, Al Smith Junior arrived at work, there at the Smith Tower building. He smiled at the assorted personnel. He signed off on several contracts, which Anna Holt presented for his formal approval. Al scheduled a meeting with all of the important executives. He did what he had always done well. He managed the business.

Al's sparkling office sanctuary had returned to its perfectly clean state. Katya Stone was missing that day, and Bob Strohmeyer was absent as well.

Lou said, "I want Zach Zane for the white guy. Iced Benz, as you know, is African American. I want Julio El Gato for the Latino, and Omar Al Ramallah for the Arab."

Al smiled. "These are all a-listers, Lou. You'll need some second choices. These guys are booked two years in advance, and the window where they could all be available at the same time might not exist."

Lou shook his head disdainfully. "Hey maestro, make it happen."

"I can try."

"And you will."

Al glided over to his exercise enclave. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, and he hung it on the rack. "I think I should try and get them down here in the office for a face to face."

"I'm with you." Lou stepped over to keep close.

Al changed his shoes, and he slid on the sneakers he kept handy. "Face to face is two faces, Lou. I'll need to do this job alone."

"What? No, no. I've told you about compromise on my film. No compromise."

Al stepped up onto the walking machine. "I'm not going to compromise. I just need to establish a rapport with these guys. They won't know me, but I'll know them."

Al hit the button on his treadmill, and he charged forward. It was much too slow. He raised it up to a brisk pace, and he yanked his shirttail out of his pants.

Lou peered on, and he sat behind Al. "So what's your plan?"

Al's heart rate jumped. "They need to impress me that their spaceship is still on the way up. Since I'm new, and ignorant, I'm of the opinion that they've peaked, and passed their expiration date."

"Sort of like you, Al, huh?"

"Sort of like me, Lou. The actor's greatest fear. If they think they're showing their age they revert back to toddlers."

"Offer them plastic surgery?"

Al shook his head, astounded. "Well, that would be like the nuclear bomb option. This is more of a surgical strike."

"So what's the angle, bud?" Lou sank back into the couch, and he sprawled out leisurely.

"All right. For Zach Zane, I praise his last picture, some CGI garbage, unwatchable. I tell him how impressive the box office has stayed. It was almost as big as the other FX picture with the new kid Billy Xavier. Now Billy Xavier's on the cover of Hot! Magazine this month, by the way. Have you seen it? It's not very dignified surrounded by all those young girls like that, without even his shirt on."

Lou sneered. "Xavier's too effeminate for the part."

"Yeah. I know. But Zach doesn't."

"Okay," said Lou. "But I want to be in the room."

"Why must you sour the milk, Lou?"

"It's my fucking milk."

"Look. I need space to conduct this symphony," Al said. "Do you want these guys or not?"

"I'm going to have this cast."

"Then let me do my job." Al hit the accelerator on the machine, and he started jogging for the first time in twenty years. He wanted to go faster still.

Lou prodded. "After you hit them with the competition, then what?"

Al jogged, and it felt good. The blood raced through his arteries. "I'm a new player. I need to create some relationships with established artists, artists with a decent-sized track record, etcetera."

"Keep twisting the knife."

"Of course. So, I bring in the two-picture deal. They're older. They want to direct. They want to produce, take their own crap on a vanity project or two. It's inevitable." Al ripped at his shirt, and he popped a button.

"And we'll have 'em."

Al thought. "Zach Zane's little brother directs music videos. He's very close with him. He's on a blog talking about teaming up with his little brother, blah blah."

"So, you like the brother's latest video?"

"Of course I do. It's hip. It's edgy. Groundbreaking. Pushes the envelope. Throw a few adjectives, and he's putty."

Lou nodded. "I could learn a thing or two from you, maestro."

"But it's easier in a face to face. Mano a mano."

Lou relented. "Fine. I need to get some work done on the script anyway."

"Yes! You do! There's a very good chance they'll actually want to read the screenplay."

"Shit." Lou jumped up. He turned to the door, and he marched out.