Artie was having a bad day. He was unable to get anything more than union scale for Larry O'Dell in the Tony dePaulo movie. Spielberg decided not to cast any of Artie's clients in his next big DreamWorks pic. One of Artie's biggest stars, who had recently been offered fifteen million dollars to do a major action picture, called in to turn it down because he thought it was bad -- as if that had anything to do with anything. And to top it off, his assistant took off in the middle of the day with no word or explanation.
The assistant to Artie's biggest rival had agreed to answer his phone, but any time Artie needed a call made, the rival made sure his assistant was busy. So for most of the day, Artie made his own calls, which was downright embarrassing.
On a day like this, other partners ask questions and Artie needed someone to blame. Artie had always liked Gloria -- she had served him well and took his abuse without complaint. He had known when he hired her that she had the looks and the smarts, and in the two years of service he saw she also had the backbone to eat the shit she had to in order to survive this business.
"It's a business of eating shit," he taught her often. "If every year you can eat less shit than the year before, you're having a great career."
She got it without question. And it was because of all these attributes that he had gone out on a limb and recommended that the other partners promote her to junior agent.
That's why he knew that blaming her now would make him look bad, but it would look worse to have no one to blame at all. He had no choice but to revoke his recommendation and then to fire her altogether.
"Damn assistant takes off in the middle of the day without a word to anyone," Artie planned to complain to his partners. "I missed Spielberg's call, I missed dePaulo's call, I missed Nicholson's call. I can't tell you how livid I am."
"It's my responsibility for hiring her in the first place, and I'll take care of it -- she's gone. And I'm so sorry for recommending her for promotion. But do me one favor. Next time I recommend someone to be promoted to agent, please overrule me. Because that's obviously the only place in this business where my judgment sucks."
Based on that speech, Artie was confident he wouldn't lose much face at all.
It was late in the afternoon, and Artie was on the phone with Larry O'Dell, Robby's former cokehead co-star of "School, Sweet School." Artie hadn't left the office all day because, between every real call, he had to listen to Larry bitch and moan about the bad deal Artie had gotten for him on the dePaulo film.
"They're ripping me off!" screamed Larry. "And you're fucking letting 'em!"
"They are ripping US off, buddy," Artie answered in a calm, soothing tone. "But fuck 'em. As soon as it hits the trades that you're in a dePaulo film, you'll be getting offers up the wazoo. Everyone will want you, and that's where we'll get 'em back."
There's a fine line between an Artie lie and an Artie truth. But in Artie's view of the business, this was as true as anything. It's not that he liked Larry -- it was simply that this role was good business for both of them.
Larry accused Artie of being in league with the producers and taking kickbacks. Maybe he shouldn't do the picture if this is how they'll treat him, he had said in significantly less nice words. Maybe he should find another agent who won't let them treat him so miserably.
Artie had been well trained in the art of eating shit, so he just let it roll off his back and remained Larry's calm advisor. He knew Larry would ultimately do the film because he had nothing else. He also knew that once Larry accepted the job, Artie would have to wine and dine him because that's when the other vulture agents would fly in to seize him.
It was in the middle of this call with Larry that the other five senior partners entered without announcement. All five at once meant discussions had gone on before, and Artie knew he had to get off the phone quickly. So he held up his index finger to indicate he'd be off as fast as he could, then told Larry that dePaulo was on the other line, calling about him.
"Good," Larry immediately said. "Take it."
"Larry, if you need to talk, I'll tell that asshole I'll call him back," Artie bluffed.
"No, talk to him," Larry said. "He wants me, man. He can get those bloodsuckers to pay me real money."
"If that's what you want, that's what you got, buddy."
Artie remained on the phone after they disconnected and pretended that Larry was still there as he ran the Gloria-blame speech through his mind one last time.
"Sorry about that," he said to his partners in his friendliest possible manner as he hung up the phone. "What's up?"
"Artie, we have to talk to you about the Rockman situation," said Al Rubin, the sixty-plus-year-old senior partner.
Al had been a mere department head when Artie first joined the agency as his assistant. Al had been the one who had taught him the "eat-shit" paradigm of show business, and he was the only man in the industry whom Artie truly feared -- even though the old Jew had never raised his voice to Artie once in his entire life.
"The Rockman situation? I'm on top of it." Artie hadn't been off the phone all day and had no idea what Al was talking about. His only guess was that it had something to do with Robby's drunken tirade at the party the night before where he "outted" Trudy and Artie, but why should that matter? There wasn't a man or woman in the room who hadn't cheated on someone.
"Robby had too much coke last night and got a little paranoid. But let me assure you, I am not having an affair with Trudy Rockman. I would never--"
"We never thought you were, Artie," Al cut in. "We've all had our share of clients who got high and tried to embarrass us, as well as our own personal indiscretions. No, we're here to discuss something far more damaging to the agency's reputation."
"He doesn't even know what's going on with his own client," Artie's main rival at Mammoth pointed out.
"You mean THAT?" Artie said, totally in the dark. "Of course I know about THAT. I just don't think it's that big a deal. What's the problem?"
"The problem is," began Artie's biggest rival. "One of our most respected clients spends the day in jail, accused of rape, and his own agent doesn't even show up for him."
Artie vaguely remembered Gloria saying something about Robby being in jail, but he had been speaking to Spielberg at the time so it barely registered.
"Of course I didn't show up," Artie said, as if offended by the accusation. "A major agent shows up at something like this -- it only gives it credibility. Robby didn't do it. And, goddammit, I will not allow the press to use me to make it seem like he did."
"That's good thinking," said Al.
Artie knew that when Al said, "that's good thinking," there was a fifty-fifty chance he really meant that Artie had screwed up. Artie had to stay on his toes.
"So he sends his secretary?" the rival argued to their boss. "What's that showing the creative community? Only that Mammoth doesn't care."
So that's what happened to her, Artie thought.
"Don't you dare dis Gloria!" Artie snapped back, having painted himself into a corner in which he had to defend the girl he had intended on blaming. "I've said for months she's ready, but you won't give her the stripes. Well, you know what? I made the decision to send her down there, and I have full confidence in her ability to handle it."
"She hired Norman Jackson as the guy's attorney, for crying out loud," insisted the rival.
Norman Jackson? wondered Artie. What the hell is wrong with her to hire HIM?
"That was MY choice," Artie countered. "And I really resent this witch hunt."
"Calm down, Artie," said Al. "No one's accusing you of anything."
Which Artie knew meant that the accusation was serious.
"Well, I'm feeling very accused," he said, hoping it would gain him sympathy.
"We just want to know what's going on," added another tepid partner. "Norman Jackson has never defended a white man in his life."
That was not quite true. Robby would be Norman's eleventh white client in twenty-six years of practice.
"That's precisely why," Artie insisted. "Why would Jackson defend a white man unless he was absolutely outraged about the injustice of this bullshit accusation? We're not just dealing with the law here, folks, we're dealing with public opinion."
"That was smart, Artie," replied Artie's greatest ally who had so far remained silent.
"I'm only trying to do what's best for Mammoth, guys," Artie modestly replied.
"We're all sorry if we made you feel accused," said Artie's ally.
"I know," responded Artie. "And I'm sorry if I got defensive."
"There's just one thing," pressed the rival. "If you're too big to show up, why wasn't it equally bad for Jackson to represent Robby, since he's more famous than any of us?"
Before Artie could find a retort to that one, his rival's assistant entered. He was the same boy who worked in the cubicle across from Gloria, and who was her direct nemesis, too.
The assistant knew that any senior partner could veto a promotion, so he was as afraid of Artie as he was of his own boss. The last thing he would ever want to do was to interrupt this high level meeting, so he wrote the message down on a piece of paper because he knew how important it was.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," said the rival assistant as he walked the note to Artie.
Artie read that it was Robby on the phone.
"Tell him I'll call him back," Artie whispered.
"He says he got a job," the assistant whispered back.
Without missing a beat, Artie picked up the phone and said, "Hey, how's my favorite client? I hear you had a little trouble, buddy."
Artie looked to his partners and whispered, "It's Robby. He needs me."
The partners nodded understandably. It was exactly what they wanted to think they would have done.
Robby laid it all out for Artie, keeping inside all the contempt he had for the man he had once considered his friend -- the deal with Norman, how he could play the hell out of the role, and that they wouldn't pay more than scale. He skipped the rape charge because he didn't want to make the conversation any longer than it had to be. All Artie had to do was call Ciggy or Norman before the end of the day, and Robby would be on the set in the morning.
"You got it, buddy," said a friendly Artie. "Good for you."
When the two hung up, Artie pretended to stay on the line once again.
"I'm glad you took my advice because I think this is your ticket back," he said to a dial tone. "You don't have to thank me. Advice and friendship is what I'm here for."
Artie hung up and told his partners that he had gotten Robby a role in a Ciggy Ostroff film three days ago, a great indie role that would sweep Sundance.
"Robby was a little reluctant to take on an independent," Artie modestly explained. "But I managed to convince him that it could turn his career around."
Four of the five partners were impressed. But the rival who had instigated the coup could not give up.
"A Ciggy Ostroff indie?" he asked. "So he'll get low budget scale. Big whoop. That does a lot for the agency."
"Travolta didn't do a lot for his agency?" countered Artie. "Nicholas Cage, Jim Carrey -- yeah, none of them amounted to anything from indies. What's wrong with you?"
Then the rival mentioned the plethora of actors who had done one unsuccessful indie after another until even the indie world tossed them aside.
"Was anybody else helping me get Robby anything?" countered Artie. "Robby's done as much for this agency as anyone, and he's my friend."
"Such a good friend you're fucking his wife," sniped the rival.
"I am not fucking his wife!" Artie shot back with a vengeance. "I told you -- he had too much coke last night and he was a little paranoid, but it's all been worked out! Hell, if I was fucking his wife, do you really think he'd call ME for help?"
"Let's not make this personal," Al calmly said.
"He already made it personal," shouted Artie. "Robby is my dear friend, and I'm going to bring his career back with or without any of your help! He's a star, no matter what you think. And Ciggy Ostroff will be paying more than scale this time. Bank on it!"
He didn't mean to go that far, but he had gotten carried away with his own bullshit. Suddenly, he had to get himself off the hook fast.
"In fact, Gloria could get him more than scale. She could get him triple scale."
"With Ciggy?" asked the rival. "Al couldn't even get that."
"Al could do anything, you disrespectful prick," Artie shot back, taking full advantage of the opportunity to put down and suck up in the same sentence.
"And I say Gloria can, too," insisted Artie. "In fact, I'll tell you what. If she doesn't do it by shoot-time tomorrow, I'll fire her myself. What do you say to that?"
"That's not the point!" began the rival. "This is about you not being there for your own--"
"You don't have the guts to accept a wager, Billy?" insisted Artie. "A highly respected client has a job he wants to do. He shoots tomorrow either way. Gloria has less than a day to triple the offer or she's gone. If I'm wrong -- and I'm not -- I'm the one who has to fire my own devoted employee -- an employee I've nurtured and cared for, a young woman who babysits my children." (This was a lie, by the way.) "Either way, Rockman has the job he wants. So what's your problem, Billy? Just afraid that I'm right about my assistant? Just afraid I hire better people than you?"
"It's certainly not unfair," said Al, giving the wager his full blessing.
The other partners concurred, and Billy knew he had lost. If Gloria failed, which was a certainty, Artie would remain unscathed. Yet if he pressed the matter any harder, his true hatred for Artie would become clear. Billy had no choice but to accept.
Artie was thrilled. For him, if Gloria managed to pull off a miracle and get Robby more than scale, Artie would look great because he had been singing her praises all along. If she failed, he could make the argument that the client had gotten the job he wanted and that's the most important thing, so Artie would still win. Between now and the release of the film, Artie would receive videos of Robby's daily performances. If the film was any good, Artie could use them to find Robby more work and be the agent responsible for a brilliant comeback. If the movie sucked, it would be Robby's own fault for insisting on doing it. Artie could only win!
The fact that he'd have to fire Gloria when she would inevitably fail would be sad, but she wouldn't be the first person to die an undeserved death in this godforsaken business.
*** Up Next: "Out On Bail (What Now?)" ***
The main characters in this e-novel are fictional and are not intended to portray or resemble any actual individuals, whether living or dead (except for Jeff Abugov who is a real screenwriter, director and producer.) Although certain real people and companies are mentioned in this e-novel, all of the events are fictional and are not intended to portray or resemble any actual events.
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