Tag: negotiation

2051: a space monstrosity (part vii)

“It is the King’s wish that your three female crew members join his harem. In exchange, we will grant you land rights on Ishnar, allowing you to remain here permanently,” Hazov declared to me in front of the Royal Council.

“What if they deny the King’s wish?” I retorted.

“Then you and your crew will be asked to leave.”

“Hazov, I can’t make them do anything. Those three crew members are distinguished women in their own right. I do not own them.”

“Those are the conditions on which you may stay on Ishnar.”

“Unacceptable,” I said, “I am responsible for the safety and well-being of my crew. Under no conditions would they submit to this demand.”

Hazov then whispered to one of the advisers. They convened privately for a few moments. “Alright,” Hazov finally spoke up, “then the King will accept one of your female officers for his harem: Commander Mwangi.”

I tried to hide the anger boiling beneath. “Under Space Fleet guidelines,” I responded, “we are ordered to respect the customs of extraterrestrial cultures. But I cannot submit my crew these demands, not without discussing it with them first. Please allow me to return to the Sagan where I will meet with my crew.”

“Of course, Captain.”

I was bluffing. I knew the crew wouldn’t agree to these terms but I needed time to find other options.

When I returned to the Sagan, Dr. Jackass pulled me aside. “Valdez is indeed pregnant,” he said, “we ran a DNA test and the father is Smashhouse. Yah was correct.”

“Fuck me running!” I replied.

***

I went underground to meet with Yah again. The guards refused to let me through. “Look,” I told one of them, “Hazov has granted me unrestricted access to Yah.”

“We need an explanation for your visit,” the guard said.

“I just need to go over with Yah the court proceedings on Earth should he stand trial,” I replied. “That’s all.”

“I need to confirm this with Hazov.”

“Don’t waste your time, Hazov’s time, and my time. You’re being ridiculous.”

We had a stare down for a few moments before he let me through. Another guard escorted me to Yah’s chamber.

“Can we have some privacy please?” I asked the guard. When he was out of earshot, Yah spoke up.

“I knew you’d be back,” he said.

“Of course you did.”

“We got off on the wrong foot Captain. But I can help you with your problem.”

“What is my problem?”

“Your ship doesn’t work and you can’t stay on Ishnar.”

“So? Maybe I can find another corner of this planet for my crew to live on.”

“The King of Ishnar rules this entire planet. If he ever found you and your crew, he would kill all of you. Face it: the customs of Ishnar is incompatible with Earth’s. You know this to be true.”

“How can you help me then? Can you fix thrusters, hydrogen drives, and hibernation chambers?”

“Through me, all things are possible.”

“Do you agree to do this?”

“You have my word, Captain.”

“What about Earth? It’s gone. Can you help us rebuild the planet?”

“I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for humanity.”

“Okay then. If you go back on your word, I will not hesitate to eject you into outer space where you’ll spend eternity in your chamber.”

“My powers are limited in this chamber. The only way I can repair your ship is if you release me from it.”

Son of a bitch, he was right. I knew he was right. And he knew that I knew he was right. We were playing each other. I had to make a choice.

I called the guard over. “Bring Yah’s chamber to the surface,” I ordered. “We’re bringing him back to Earth.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

a shot at the title III: money shot!

“I’m Dillon J Dudenburg. I’ve directed softcore porn. I’ve directed hardcore porn. I’ve also directed episodes of Dharma and Greg. I’ve studied under David A. Pryor, Andy Sidaris, and Godfrey Ho. I’m ready for the Big Screen. However I have some concerns with the script.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I think we need to make the lead a heterosexual. I don’t think the Chinese market is ready for that sort of thing. But we can keep in all the gay sex,” Dillon replied.

“So the main character is straight, he just has sex with men?”

“Correct”

“I think that’s an excellent idea Dillon,” Kat interjected. “James, you need to prepare a fourth draft.”

“Very well,” I replied. I called over my production assistant, Pee-Wee.

“Pee-Wee, take note: make the main character less gay.”

“I think this has been a very productive meeting,” Kat said. “Dillon, thank you for your input. We’ll be reaching out to you shortly.”

We shook hands and Dillon exited the room.

“What do you think?” Kat asked.

“I enjoyed Take Me To Pound Town IX as much as the next guy. But he’s an asshole. I don’t think he understands my work at all,” I replied.

“Come on, James. Making films is a collaborative effort. Dillon has style, a creative flair. He is the best director for the job.”

“Or the best one we can afford,” I said.

Kat walked away when Pablo, my agent, called.

“Great news!” he said. “Kat and I have finalized your contract.”

“Oh wonderful! What did you get?”

“Well, now hear me out…”

“Pablo, what did you do?”

“Your contract is 15….“

“15..?”

“….hundred dollars. Which, of course, 45% of that goes to commission.”

“Pablo, you shit the bed on this one.”

“BUT BUT BUT you get sole screenwriting credit and 100% of the merchandising rights!”

“Pablo, the script is no longer an action romp in outer space! It’s now a melodrama in 1942 Stalingrad! What merchandising rights could there be?!”

I hung up the phone and looked for Kathrine. She was back in her office. So I climbed up the fireman pole and stormed in.

“So what am I? Your slave?!” I asked.

“First rule of Hollywood: you’re only as good as your agent,” she replied.

“The only way I can profit off this film is if we sell Nazi SS action figures! You think you can push me around? Well you got another thing coming sister!”

I slid back down the pole and found Pee-Wee.

“Pee-Wee,” I said. “When do the sets go up?”

“Uhh, Tuesday I think.”

“Load up on crank and call Dillon. We’ve got work to do.”

TO BE CONTINUED