Nelson handed me a script as thick as a brick. Looking it over, I saw it was some cheap thrills flick about a guy who skydives while fighting ghosts. I chuckled to myself and slammed it on the desk, causing Nelson to jump like a man about to get shot. “Nelson, this script stinks. I know it’s the third revision but if I don’t see some quality in the next two weeks, it’s your ass on the line.” With a look of terror, Nelson couldn’t move an inch, and he started shaking in his cheap English shoes like I really was going to shoot him. Maybe I’m sick for taking satisfaction in that; the script was amazing, but if he knew that then I’d be out of a job and his flick would be out of the Oscar pool after it was in theaters. He took the script back to redlines and I lit my cigar, leaning back in my chair and laughing like a man on top of the world. Honest truth? I am a man on top of the world.
I pushed the button on my desk. “Shirley?” I say. “Yes, Mr. Fontanella?” replied my secretary, less than half an office away, but behind frosted glass. “When am I scheduled to talk with that one guy? The idiot with the kids movie about bees?” There was quiet, then some rustling of papers before finally she replied, “It’s a 2:30 meeting, sir, after lunch.” I chuckled darkly. I was gonna enjoy this one. After Seinfeld’s big flop, who the heck was gonna go see a kids movie about bees? I’d tell him who. People who like cereal. His big bee movie project was gonna turn into the biggest advertising extravaganza since Transformers 4. Honey Nut Cheerios: The Movie, starring Brendan Fraser.