Random 6

I pinched my nose and inhaled, sniffing back the residue of white powder; checked the mirror for any tell-tales, flashed myself a bright and brittle expanse of orthodontic wizardry, and readied my pitch. I'd need every little toxic granule of artificial confidence to face Lindsay again. So fucking typical I had to wind up with that prick a second time, after he nixed my claymation Ed Gein biopic last year. That idea's time will come, I'm telling you. When I get a couple of bullshit blockbusters under my belt -- when I have some clout in the industry -- that idea's time will come.

Two minutes out of the men's room and I was in the presence. He was smooth and smarmy as a well-greased palm, so full of himself it's a wonder there was any room left in there to breathe. I wanted to drive a stake through the rock that passed for his heart, but I just smiled my winningest.

"Dave, good to see you again. Thanks for coming in." Bonhomie that false could trip a polygraph in the next state. "I hear you've got something for me. Word is it's a hot property."

"I like to think so, Jack. Paramount and Universal have me on redial, but I had to bring it to you first."

"Good man, good man. Taste and loyalty, gotta respect that, sure enough. I'm all ears, man. Hook me."

"It's 24 meets Close Encounters. Islamist suicide bombers driving a nuke around LA get abducted by aliens. There's a detonation, millions die, but it turns out to be part of God's plan and everyone learns to love the free market."

"I like it. But lose the Islamists, they date too easily. Make 'em Russians, disillusioned ex-KGB or something. You know where you stand with Russkies. Russkies are timeless."

"What about the big finish where Allah reveals himself as Adam Smith's invisible hand?"

"No-one in Peoria gives one tenth of a shit about that, Dave. Evil commies and a starlet in a low-cut dress, that's all the morons want. What are you, an artist?"

"Uh..."

"Don't answer that. I've greenlighted three projects worse than yours this week, and I mean really fucking dismal crap. I'm on a knife-edge, man, a knife-edge. Do you have any cocaine? People in this town are such hypocrites it's not even funny. No-one does coke anymore, it's not in. No longer 'fashionable'. Yeah, right."

"Uh..."

"It's bullshit, you know? Your movie idea really, really sucks -- sorry, that isn't a surprise is it? -- but we make sucky movies all the time. We don't set out to, it's just what happens, and nobody fucking cares. What do you want, meaning from life or something?"

"Uh..."

"Let's cut the crap, Davy-boy. You know how badly this business is fucked and so do I. We've been through it all before. So here's what we'll do. Let me have a couple of lines and you can give Jack Bauer that fucking anal probe or whatever it is you want, like anyone will ever give a shit. Just lay 'em out on the table. Here's my platinum card."

There wasn't even a question about it. Welcome to Hollywood. At long last.

"Jack?"

"Mmmfffffsss?"

"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
Posted by matt at September 17, 2005 01:01 AM