As Martin approached Nicholson's grand mansion, a prickling sense of danger tingled at the back of his neck. Swiftly, he pivoted at the entrance, his instincts on high alert, and with a powerful push off the ground, he leaped forward just in time.
As he spun around to assess the situation, an odd sound pierced the air, a faint "Bah! Bah..." followed by the hiss of water jets whizzing past him, splashing onto the pristine marble floor.
Emerging from his hiding spot, Leonardo brandished a hefty water gun with both hands, fixing a menacing glare on Martin. "You thought you could sneak in here unnoticed, huh? Well, get ready to taste a little payback!"
Martin, quick on his feet, retreated near a magnificent oil painting, taunting, "Come on, Leo, let's see if your aim matches your bravado!"
Before Leonardo could retaliate, Nicholson, amused by the spectacle, dashed out, shouting, "Hold it right there, you two knuckleheads!"
Unfazed, Martin gestured towards the painting, goading Leonardo further. "Go ahead, Leo."
But before Leonardo could respond, Nicholson rushed in, snatching the water gun away. "If you dare ruin my artwork, I'll have no choice but to marry you off to Lorraine!"
Leonardo hastily relinquished the weapon, and Martin couldn't resist a quip, "Is this how you welcome me back to LA, Leo?"
Ignoring Martin, Leonardo stormed inside, flipping him the bird. "What were you up to in Boston, you scoundrel?"
With feigned innocence, Martin plopped onto a nearby sofa. "What, me? Just filming a new movie."
Nicholson, ever the gracious host, poured wine for his guests, muttering, "Leo's love."
Martin, catching the cue, confessed, "I may have bumped into Giselle and had a chat."
Leonardo, less than impressed, slapped Martin's sofa. "Giselle called me, asking what I like to babble about when I'm drunk!"
Martin defended himself earnestly, "Leo, can't you see I'm just trying to help you find true love?"
Leonardo, accustomed to Martin's audacity, rolled his eyes. "I'll thank you kindly and tell everyone about your scheme to storm the White House with a harem."
Unperturbed, Martin retorted, "That's just being politically correct, Leo. Don't you get it?"
Nicholson's wallflower companion, now addressing Martin, chimed in, "Martin's all about brotherly love and helping his mates find their soulmates."
Grinning in acknowledgment, Martin nodded. "See, Jack gets it. He understands my noble intentions."
Leonardo, not one to back down, challenged, "So, I'm lacking in the women department, huh?"
Martin couldn't resist a playful jab. "Well, with your attention span, you barely have time to keep up."
Nicholson erupted into laughter, struggling to maintain his balance.
Leonardo's steely expression remained unchanged as he spoke, his voice carrying a hint of superiority. "What's wrong with less than 20 seconds? Efficiency has its perks. You two dimwits just don't get it."
Martin and Nicholson exchanged glances, their disdain evident.
"Why do we pursue women, you ask?" Leonardo continued rhetorically, not waiting for an answer. "It's for my own pleasure, plain and simple! More than 20 seconds of bliss is all I need. I couldn't care less about anyone else's satisfaction."
Nicholson shifted gears, conceding, "I suppose that does make some sense."
"Sense?" Leonardo countered adamantly. "It's not about making sense; it's about reality! Short durations spare physical exertion, prevent undue strain on the lower back, don't interfere with daily life, and certainly don't result in any... unwanted abrasions."
Martin found himself unable to argue.
Leonardo, seizing his advantage, launched into a swift rebuttal. "And what about you, slaving away for half an hour just for those fleeting moments? Often outnumbered, outmatched – what's the difference between your exhausting nights and mine?"
He jabbed a finger at Martin, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're young now, you can't fathom it. But mark my words, when you're my age, your back will ache, your vitality will dwindle, and you'll know the toll of prolonged efforts!"
Martin's eyes widened in alarm. "That sounds terrifying! I nearly ended up like you, sprinting 100 meters in 24 seconds!"
Leonardo clapped him on the shoulder, his tone earnest. "Do you see the wisdom now?"
Martin nodded solemnly. "I aspire to your methods, but alas, my stamina falls short." He glanced at Nicholson. "If Jack weren't here to corroborate, I might have fallen for your rhetoric."
Nicholson grinned at Leonardo, revealing a row of gleaming teeth.
Martin gestured towards Nicholson. "Jack spent more time indulging in his youth than I did. And the result? At 75, he still has starlets calling him 'daddy.'"
Nicholson tilted his head proudly. "I've never shied away from group activities."
Martin cleared his throat. "Conversely, some famed Hollywood sprinters lose their edge after hitting forty."
He counted on his fingers deliberately. "Leo, you're nearing forty. They say energy declines drastically. Ten-second sprints won't be your worry. Don't go there..."
"Enough! That's it," Leonardo interjected abruptly, changing the subject. "Are you ready to discuss that project you called me about?"
Martin affirmed, "I've already dispatched someone to reach out to him."
Nicholson chimed in, recalling, "I recall Leo mentioning it briefly, and I've delved into the original work. Portraying twenty-four distinct personalities is no small feat, but your acting prowess is commendable. It's within reach, but the choice of director is crucial; it can make or break the project."
Leonardo added, "Ordinary directors may struggle with such complex material."
Martin disclosed, "I've scheduled a meeting with David Fincher this afternoon to discuss it. We'll see if he's interested."
Nicholson nodded in agreement, "Fincher's style aligns well with this subject matter."
Leonardo urged, "Since you're optimistic, act swiftly. Money shouldn't be a concern; many eyes in the industry are on you."
"I'll expedite the process," Martin assured. "Previous projects snatched away failed. If my team moves again, they'll hesitate a bit longer."
Indeed, Thomas and Jessica moved swiftly, locating Billy Milligan himself in a nursing home that very morning.
Billy Milligan, frail and in need of funds for a tumor treatment, spent his prime years in a mental institution, lacking medical insurance. "The Minds of Billy Milligan" wasn't a blockbuster, and while the ghostwriter didn't own the rights, he could share the royalties. The modest income barely sustained him.
As for adapting his story into film, Billy had long abandoned the idea. Despite efforts to promote it, the copyright remained unsold, even as Hollywood drew inspiration from his life.
In his hospital room, Billy, thin and tired, peered at Thomas and Jessica. "You mean to say Hollywood star Martin Davis wants to acquire the rights to my life story?"
Jessica clarified, "I represent Davis Studio as its vice president. We intend to adapt your biography into a film or television series, exclusively."
Billy, resigned to his fate, wiped his eyes. "I once dreamed of bringing my story to the screen, but that ship has sailed."
He inquired, "Will Martin Davis himself portray me?"
Thomas nodded, affirming, "Yes, Martin will embody a character inspired by you."
Billy Milligan's terms had been established years prior, and without hesitation, he laid them out plainly. "For 1.5 million dollars, you'll have the rights to both autobiographies and the script for 'Crowded Room.'"
Thomas and Jessica, acting on Martin's directive, were prepared to negotiate within the specified budget. If the demands were reasonable, they were to proceed swiftly.
Jessica, maintaining composure, inquired, "Do you have legal representation, Mr. Milligan?"
"I do," Billy responded, reaching for the nearby landline. With a practiced dial, he summoned his lawyer. "Please hold. He'll be here within the hour."
Once the lawyer arrived, detailed negotiations ensued, culminating in the initialing of the copyright agreement by afternoon.
...
At three o'clock, Martin strode into Disney Studios, a call from Thomas confirming the copyright deal en route to the "Argo" set.
Surrounded by industry sharks, Martin spared no expense to secure the rights swiftly, aiming to avoid attracting competitors' attention.
Upon arrival, Thomas's assistant greeted him, script in hand, ready for his perusal.
Martin accepted the script and proceeded to the director's office, where David Fincher awaited. "Right on time. I've got something to discuss with you," Fincher announced upon Martin's entry.
Taking a seat, Martin inquired, "Is the film ready for release?"
Fincher shook his head. "Final edits are underway, set for completion by August's end. I plan to premiere it at Toronto Film Festival before wider release in North America."
Martin agreed to liaise with Disney Pictures accordingly.
The conversation shifted to new ventures, with Martin introducing Billy Milligan's biography, "24 Billys," spotted during a Boston shoot. "I'm close to securing exclusive rights. Would you be interested, David?"
Placing the materials before Fincher, Martin explained, "The script for 'Crowded Room' is based on Milligan's story, serving as a reference."
Fincher, with a knowing smile, remarked, "I've been acquainted with Billy since '96."