A Few Good Men

Author's note: I now have a p-word as you all know, so if you feel like reading 3, and soon enough 5 advanced chapters at the measly price of $3, then do join. The link is in this book's bio, or you can just search 'Archonstine' followed by p-word on your browser.

Also, join my discord will ya? For movie and tv-show recommendations and character images. The link is in this book's bio.

Guys seriously, join the discord at the very least. I started my p-word 5-6 days ago and I now have more paid patrons than total discord members. I don't know whether I should be proud or ashamed.

And donate power stones please, as I've said before and I'll say it again, I've got a series of trashy harem fics ahead of me on the rankings and just looking at that makes my blood boil.

10th June 1996 (Monday)

Ricky Stirling (POV)

"So, that woman, see her? The one with the white hat. Notice her arms. She's hugging herself, and shivering at the same time. Now, notice exhibit A, her fur coat, which proves that she was shivering not from cold, no-no, not by a long shot. That's just how scared she was, and she ran out 15 minutes before the finale. Now her boyfriend, yes-yes, the pale looking guy, notice his pants. You'll see the pelvic area is slightly darker than the rest. He pissed himself-"

"I think we all get it Ricky, let's move ahead with the agenda-"

"Wait-Wait! J-just look, this is the best part. Just one more minute okay? I'm sure no one's bored right?" And without waiting for the consensus of the people in the room, I steamrolled ahead, intent on finishing with a bang. Oh wait… I mean boom-boom.

I am hilarious.

"Now, I just fast-forwarded by a minute, see the girl I'm 'interviewing'? Yeah, focus on the guy behind her. The African-American… gentleman. Look at his hands. He is holding his pants from the side, but look at his beige pants. Yes his behind, he's clenching his buttocks. Ladies and gentlemen, from his mannerisms alone I can tell, and I've a feeling you all can too, that man is scared shitless… in the literal sense." I turn back to the executives sitting around the table, varied reactions visible on their faces.

Daddy dearest's right eye is twitching all over the place, Higgs is trying hard, really hard to not try and burst into uncontrollable laughter. I can see his vein popping on his forehead. Oh damn… he passed the vibe check I guess.

Anyone who can appreciate poop jokes, one of the rawest forms of comedy, passes my vibe check automatically. No really, as far as I'm concerned, Higgs is 'my man'.

Now Javier Katz? He's just amused… if not slightly exasperated, and Helen Lynch, the one in charge of distribution… hmmm, she's definitely finding the situation hilarious, but she keeps looking towards dad with a tense expression, wondering whether he would see the humor in this situation.

Aww!!! She cares! Damn! Now I can't wait to work with them in the future.

Anyways, the rest of them are chuckling under their breath except one, the film programmer. He is… taking notes. Oh good god, he is a nerd. And he's clearly impressed by the effect this film had on the audience at large.

Seriously, he's making notes, what the… I don't even know how to react to this.

I mean, I knew they realized how much potential my movie had, but being this impressed? Hmmm, did I perhaps underestimate my own film's possible critical reception?

I never really thought about it actually, but PA in my original timeline was a hit with the critics, with a Rotten Tomatoes critic score of 83, and Metacritic at 68.

For a low budget horror flick, that is supremely impressive, and the icing on the cake being… Roger Ebert, possibly the most famous and respected movie critic in the history of cinema, gave it a 3.5 out of 4 stars.

But here's where things divulge, the audience gave a very divided reception. RT (Rotten Tomatoes) had an audience score of a mere 59%, and IMDB at 6.3.

No matter how you spin it, that's downright terrible. Now the reasons can be varied for this phenomenon, considering the movie still somehow managed to gross close to $200 million, but after deliberating on the matter, I came to an interesting conclusion.

The critics were largely positive, not because they were wowed by the essence of the movie, it didn't exactly have a gripping plot or anything, and the cast performances could be described as 'just good'. The critics looked at the amalgamation of a variety of factors, and innovativeness of how it was shot and marketed, to judge it, and thus, most of the reviews were mildly positive, like 7 or 7.5 out of 10.

They were by no means impressed beyond all doubt at what they saw, but they nevertheless judged the movie in a fair manner.

The audiences on the hand, were far more impulsive. I believe quite a few of them went solely due to the hyped up word of the mouth, thinking they wouldn't be scared, and since they were sitting with those expectations, they never really connected with the suspenseful atmosphere being created. Nope, they simply discarded it as a feeling of boredom, and then dismissed it.

Now they weren't wrong by any means, and it wasn't really their fault in the first place. The fault lies solely with the film, which was so deeply focused on its niche that it failed to understand the perspectives of the mainstream audience, who probably thought they were watching a cooked up documentary made by conspiracy theorists.

I had made suitable changes to the film's plot and characterization, with the wider audiences in mind, because my sole purpose to create this, was to make a fuck ton of money to fund bigger, more serious projects.

I never really kept the critics in mind while filming it, so to see how engrossed a film programmer was, so as to take notes… did I, by complete and utter accident… create a far better movie than I thought I originally did?

Hmmm, this requires deeper deliberation…

"All right, I think we all got your point kiddo, now if you don't have any further disruptions planned, can we get on with the agenda?" Ok, i think I've hit dad's limit and shouldn't test him further… or should I?

No. That's a terrible fucking idea. I mean I can, I still have a half an hour worth of interviews, one in which a middle aged man was so startled by a brush against his shoulder, that he shrieked out and threw his box of half-eaten popcorn in the air before dashing towards the exit, all the while screaming 'DEMON!!!'.

Eh, I can save that for the bloopers reel I guess.

"Oh no, please go ahead. I apologize profusely for the disruption, unintended that it was. Please, go on." I 'apologized' to everyone, with not a hint of guilt reflected in my tone.

Everyone obviously saw through it, but no-one commented.

Just then, Higgs cleared his throat before he began speaking, "Ok, I'll go first. Mr. Richmond, we all have come to common consensus, we would like to acquire the distribution rights to this movie and we are willing to pay a handsome fee for it. $2 million dollars. Now, the contract is in front of you-"

He paused. They all did. Why, you ask? Cause I was busy tearing up the fucking contract again, and again, and… you fucking guessed it, again.

A pin-drop silence ensued as I collected the pieces of the torn 'contract' and threw them on the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry, y-you were saying?" My expression set on faux-innocence.

No one spoke, but frankly, their silence spoke volumes by itself. It seems, my dear old daddy was still intent on playing his games, not informing his team of my terms.

Well if that's what he wan-

*Snort*

…

Did dad just snort, hold on, he's trying not to laugh… his shoulders are shaking, oh bloody hell.

Peter Higgs on the other hand, "Fine. You won, you happy? You happy now Ambrose?" He said, taking out a $10 bill before handing it to my father who leaned in to accept it with a winning smile, like he actually won something, something like, oh I don't know… A MOTHERFUCKIN' BET MAYBE?!

"All right, you all can pay up later, I'm not going anywhere. Anyways, you tried your little experiment, mind getting serious now?"

Javier replied, "Yeah ok, shouldn't have expected any less really, he is 'your son' after all." A resigned expression set on his countenance.

"Hell yes, and ya'll better remember it!" Dad said, using an exaggerated cowboy accent. I have a feeling I stumbled upon an inside joke, no idea though.

So to sum it up, these heartless motherfuckers put a bet, on me. Like I was a fucking racehorse. No-no, more like a show pony. Considering everyone except my father lost, I can still say I subverted their expectations at least.

Peter Higgs (POV)

Oh man, can't believe I just lost a tenner. Considering the weekly poker game is coming up, I'll have a smaller buy in this time.

Damn it.

Curse Helen and all of her little 'rules and regulations'.

Anyways, now we've got a pissed off kid on hand, and not just any kid, but rather, the product of Ambrose's sperm. Boss told us about his terms, and frankly I've almost never encountered such bizarre conditions.

He wants to market the movie himself, and pay for most of the marketing efforts? I mean, I saw the movie he made and I can't help but admit.

Kid's got some next level talent. Whether it's his insanely good acting, or the fact that he made such a revolutionary film using barely $100k, he's gonna be big. And not one day, the way things are going, he can become a household name in under a decade.

Because, the movie was just that fucking good! Now, when I heard he cooked up some experimental shit using found footage techniques with a shoe-string budget, I went in there expecting an art film.

You know, the ones that satisfy the snobby critics' taste pallet, the kind of shit that wins big at Cannes, or Venice, even Sundance.

But then, I got scared, real scared. Me, an industry veteran, I've seen almost 70, no-no at the very minimum, at least a 100 horror films, including 'The Last Call', the only horror film till date that won the Oscar for Best Picture, practically an industry upheaval it was.

With that, I can confidently say that Paranormal Activity ranks in my top 5, easily.

Now, I know that we can make this a box office success, if we release it around late September, with a massive marketing push, at least $3 million, if not 4. But this kid is sitting here, wanting to control the entire marketing. He… wants to control… our specialized team.

Him, an 18 year old, rookie film-maker, who hasn't even taken a fucking crash course for dummies in sales and marketing, wants to pay for it, and control it, and make our team work... under him.

I would've laughed him out of my office in seconds flat.

The only reason he is sitting here, is because for some reason beyond my understanding, Ambrose wants to allow it… ok no. I can probably guess the reason.

He wants to test him, to see if he can back his stubbornness, to see if he can actually pull it off, with not an ounce of experience. Why he wants to test him, you ask?

It's pretty obvious really. Ambrose has not come out and said it, he probably won't, at least for a few more years. But we weren't exactly blind now. The toll his wife's death took on him, we could all see it.

A week after the car crash, he resigned from the Los Angeles City Council, and almost passed on the position of CEO to me. An interim CEO he wanted to make me.

I'm pretty good at what I do, but not that good. This, Stirling Studios… it's a fucking kingdom, and Ambrose is the king, holding it all together.

And now, he has got the perfect fucking opportunity to test whether his little prince can rise up to the occasion if required.

I can't believe it. I mean, I have heard of Kangaroo courts, hearings with a predetermined outcome, but honestly never thought I would be a part of one, ever.

Cause mark my words, this is not a fucking negotiation, not by a long shot. This is making Ricky think, it is one, when in reality, the King hath spoken.

He's getting all of his demands fulfilled. Every single one of them, we'll be taking a measly 40% of the box office gross, Cinemax Theatre will charge their usual 25%, it would be 30 for others, but we've been partners for so long and have so much goodwill between us, they know not to get too greedy. We distribute 60% of our movies through them, and they offer us a discount in special cases.

And the rest will go to Ricky, the boy, sitting there looking all smug, like he actually thought he convinced us with the power of his film and a few audience reaction videos.

Not gonna lie, the interviews were pretty funny, Ricky dissecting them in his exaggerated manner, I was dying from laughter inside, and one look at Javier suggested he was too. That asshole just knows how to hide his thoughts better.

Man, I should really stop playing poker with him, but… it's just so much fun.