Read Online My Gun Has Bullets by Lee Goldberg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lee Goldberg
Tags: Mystery
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gingivitis. "Because if we walk, your network goes from number one to negative integers."
" Negative integers. " DeBono smiled. "You've been watching Sesame Street again. Let me tell you something Big Bird might have missed. This business is about relationships. Boo Boo's Dilemma won't always be number one. Three, four years from now, it'll be gone. And what will you do then?"
"I'll have Boo Boo stuffed with thousand dollar bills." Lyle laughed, purposely letting go of the leash. Boo Boo scrambled toward DeBono, his nails scratching on the floor as he worked up the momentum for his leap.
Stumpy bolted. All the suits scrambled, except DeBono, who calmly watched as the drooling beast lunged for him. Just as the dog was about to reach him, DeBono pulled out a dart gun and fired.
Lyle lurched forward, falling out of his seat to catch his meal ticket before it hit the ground. DeBono stood up and looked down at Lyle and his spasmodic pet.
"You're rightâthe show is very important to us, and we'll pay the million bucks," DeBono said. "But when talent is that important, we take out insurance. Sometimes the insurance ends up being worth more than the talent. Think about it."
DeBono left, his lieutenants filing out with him, leaving Lyle alone with Boo Boo in his arms. In Boo Boo's narcotic haze, he looked at Lyle and saw DeBono, so he sank his teeth into the nearest flesh he could find, taking a big, delicious bite out of the hand that fed him.
# # #
Eddie Planet swallowed a handful of Maalox tablets and faced the Angel of Death, who was wearing a sharply tailored beige suit and stood in front of the schedule board as if he owned it.
The white plastic board was a map of primetime, divided by network, the nights broken down into half-hour blocks between eight and eleven p.m. The board was covered with magnetized plastic strips representing the various series. Whenever a show was cancelled or moved, Eddie would have someone rearrange the board. Midseason replacement shows, waiting on the shelf at the network, were stuck on the edge of the board, waiting to be placed on the schedule.
Every producer had a board like this one, mostly as decoration and to look "plugged in" to the industry. Eddie even had one at home, just to cover himself. Of course, he hadn't updated that one since Saddlesore was on the air.
When Eddie Planet sauntered into his bungalow office at ten a.m., Delbert Skaggs was already there, standing in front of the board as if he were watching a movie. Eddie's secretary, and occasional mistress, said Delbert had been there since six o'clock. That alone worried Eddie. No producer in his right mind arrived on the lot that early. The unspoken rule was to arrive just in time to make reservations for lunch.
So Eddie ducked into the bathroom, emptied a handful of Maaloxes into his sweaty palm, and prepared to meet his new co-executive producer.
Eddie was about to offer his hand to Delbert, but saw to his horror that his palm was streaked blue with antacid. Unlike M&M's, Maalox isn't guaranteed to "melt in your mouth, not in your hand," so Eddie was forced to wipe antacid off on his slacks as he approached Delbert.
"Welcome to Hollywood, Mr. Skaggs, I'm Eddie Planet." Delbert turned around and looked at Eddie as if he were a misbehaving pet, prompting Eddie to quickly check his palm again before shaking hands with his new colleague. "It's a pleasure having you on the Frankencop team. Have you settled in to your office all right?" Eddie had arranged for him to have the tiny one across the hall. He punted the supervising producers, a shaggy writing team splitting one measly salary, to a trailer across from the Pinnacle Studios tour "Land of Muck," home of the mutant superhero Muck Thing.
Delbert looked at Eddie with the dead, flat eyes of a shark. "This is my office."
Eddie covered fast. "Right. That's what I meant. Are you settling in here all right?" Now Eddie was really panicked. This was a corner office.
" Negative integers. " DeBono smiled. "You've been watching Sesame Street again. Let me tell you something Big Bird might have missed. This business is about relationships. Boo Boo's Dilemma won't always be number one. Three, four years from now, it'll be gone. And what will you do then?"
"I'll have Boo Boo stuffed with thousand dollar bills." Lyle laughed, purposely letting go of the leash. Boo Boo scrambled toward DeBono, his nails scratching on the floor as he worked up the momentum for his leap.
Stumpy bolted. All the suits scrambled, except DeBono, who calmly watched as the drooling beast lunged for him. Just as the dog was about to reach him, DeBono pulled out a dart gun and fired.
Lyle lurched forward, falling out of his seat to catch his meal ticket before it hit the ground. DeBono stood up and looked down at Lyle and his spasmodic pet.
"You're rightâthe show is very important to us, and we'll pay the million bucks," DeBono said. "But when talent is that important, we take out insurance. Sometimes the insurance ends up being worth more than the talent. Think about it."
DeBono left, his lieutenants filing out with him, leaving Lyle alone with Boo Boo in his arms. In Boo Boo's narcotic haze, he looked at Lyle and saw DeBono, so he sank his teeth into the nearest flesh he could find, taking a big, delicious bite out of the hand that fed him.
# # #
Eddie Planet swallowed a handful of Maalox tablets and faced the Angel of Death, who was wearing a sharply tailored beige suit and stood in front of the schedule board as if he owned it.
The white plastic board was a map of primetime, divided by network, the nights broken down into half-hour blocks between eight and eleven p.m. The board was covered with magnetized plastic strips representing the various series. Whenever a show was cancelled or moved, Eddie would have someone rearrange the board. Midseason replacement shows, waiting on the shelf at the network, were stuck on the edge of the board, waiting to be placed on the schedule.
Every producer had a board like this one, mostly as decoration and to look "plugged in" to the industry. Eddie even had one at home, just to cover himself. Of course, he hadn't updated that one since Saddlesore was on the air.
When Eddie Planet sauntered into his bungalow office at ten a.m., Delbert Skaggs was already there, standing in front of the board as if he were watching a movie. Eddie's secretary, and occasional mistress, said Delbert had been there since six o'clock. That alone worried Eddie. No producer in his right mind arrived on the lot that early. The unspoken rule was to arrive just in time to make reservations for lunch.
So Eddie ducked into the bathroom, emptied a handful of Maaloxes into his sweaty palm, and prepared to meet his new co-executive producer.
Eddie was about to offer his hand to Delbert, but saw to his horror that his palm was streaked blue with antacid. Unlike M&M's, Maalox isn't guaranteed to "melt in your mouth, not in your hand," so Eddie was forced to wipe antacid off on his slacks as he approached Delbert.
"Welcome to Hollywood, Mr. Skaggs, I'm Eddie Planet." Delbert turned around and looked at Eddie as if he were a misbehaving pet, prompting Eddie to quickly check his palm again before shaking hands with his new colleague. "It's a pleasure having you on the Frankencop team. Have you settled in to your office all right?" Eddie had arranged for him to have the tiny one across the hall. He punted the supervising producers, a shaggy writing team splitting one measly salary, to a trailer across from the Pinnacle Studios tour "Land of Muck," home of the mutant superhero Muck Thing.
Delbert looked at Eddie with the dead, flat eyes of a shark. "This is my office."
Eddie covered fast. "Right. That's what I meant. Are you settling in here all right?" Now Eddie was really panicked. This was a corner office.
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