novelinnhs Chapter 68 The Hands-Off Manager
Chapter 68 The Hands-Off Manager
Peter frowned upon hearing Zeke's proposal for peripheral cooperation.
"I have no idea how to sell these miscellaneous merchandise items." Peter waved his hand. "We outsource all of KISS's merchandise business to a professional company. We can just sit at home and collect licensing fees every month. Why bother with these little things ourselves? It's a pure waste of time."
Qi Ke followed up with, "So what percentage of the licensing fee do you get?"
Peter's face immediately showed a hint of disgust, and he jokingly complained, "You're just like those two Jews, Gene and Paul, always staring at the ledgers and counting coins, all you see is small change."
After complaining about his teammates, he couldn't help but chuckle, his tone relaxing: "Alright, I was just kidding. To be honest, they're not much more concerned about finances than I am; they're basically just absentee managers. Apart from glancing at the reports sent by the accounting firm each month, they spend the rest of their time spending money and having fun, and they can't be bothered with these trivial business matters at all."
Qi Ke was secretly surprised and couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you afraid of problems if you hand everything over to outsiders? Accounting irregularities, profit misappropriation, copyright disputes—any one of these would be troublesome."
In his view, this fully entrusted management model is tantamount to handing over one's own money-making opportunities to others, which is full of loopholes and far too crude and arbitrary.
Peter, however, didn't care at all: "What problems could there be? As long as you have enough bonuses, money will come to you in droves. You don't need to worry about it at all."
After saying that, he changed the subject: "Zick, since you're not willing to be my exclusive producer, you have to agree to another condition."
"Don't produce for anyone else in the KISS band during this time, and don't write songs for them. Just do me a favor, is that alright?"
"Huh?" Zeke looked puzzled. What kind of strange request was this? "Is this really necessary? Is the competition within your team that fierce?"
Peter blinked and explained frankly, "This is a game strategy my lawyer taught me. It's called the preemption game. I'm planning to get a divorce, so at times like this, I have to secure the best divorce lawyers with me first. If my wife tries to find one later, she'll only be able to find the second-rate ones that I've filtered out."
Zeke was speechless for a moment, inwardly both amused and exasperated. He thought to himself that Peter was indeed wealthy and powerful; hiring a large group of top divorce lawyers must have been a considerable expense.
This tactic is indeed effective. The U.S. legal ethics code includes a conflict of interest clause: once a top lawyer/law firm is formally hired, he/she is often no longer allowed to represent a spouse, otherwise it would constitute a conflict of interest, especially in divorce cases involving significant property division.
If this strategy were applied to myself... it seems Peter intends to secure his position first, neither using it himself nor letting anyone else use it... Ugh, wouldn't that make me a toilet?!
On second thought, since I couldn't possibly let anyone else sing the song that Apocalypse gave me, having more friends is always a good thing, and there's no need to offend anyone over such a small matter.
Zeke immediately nodded in agreement: "No problem, Peter, I promise you. But are you really not interested in getting involved in the business around the eye patch? New York is the clothing center of the United States, and Brooklyn is full of well-established sweatshops. The supply chain, labor, and distribution channels are all readily available."
"We can easily leverage our connections to produce the goods ourselves and then entrust a professional sales company to distribute them. The profit margin would definitely be much higher than the small licensing fee you simply collect."
"Come on, I'm not interested in that little bit of money." Peter showed absolutely no interest and waved his hand dismissively, "I have an appointment, I'm leaving now."
He reached out and put his arm around the slender waist of the model next to him, then slapped her firm buttocks, which were encased in a tight short skirt, making the girl playfully punch him.
Peter laughed heartily, unconcerned, and patted Zeke on the shoulder: "Zike, you must come see our live performance when you have time. Believe me, once you've witnessed the allure of a top-tier stage, you'll never be content to remain just a songwriter or producer behind the scenes again."
As soon as he finished speaking, Peter turned around, put his arm around the woman, and strode toward the bright red Corvette sports car parked by the roadside.
The engine roared, the tires kicked up dust as they rubbed against the ground, and the sports car accelerated in an instant, speeding away and quickly disappearing at the end of the road.
Tino sidled up to Zik, whistled as he watched the sports car drive away, and asked curiously, "That old guy's got some serious entourage. I recognized that girl; she's a Playboy February Rabbit. He was bothering you for ages, what did he want?"
"He wanted me to be his exclusive producer for his solo album," Zike replied casually. "I didn't agree. By the way, you don't know yet, but the KISS band is going to have a big project coming up. The four members will be releasing four solo albums at the same time, competing against each other. It's obvious they're vying for first place in the band."
"Wow, this is truly earth-shattering news!" Tino exclaimed in shock, then looked puzzled. "But why would Casablanca agree to such an outrageous request? It makes no sense at all."
Zik raised an eyebrow at him: "What do you mean? You don't think they have a good chance?"
Having been in the industry for many years, Tino is very familiar with the operating logic of record companies. He shrugged and analyzed:
"For record companies, solo albums by band members are always a 'lose-lose' choice: they rarely perform well and are likely to be a loss-making business in terms of financial data and return on investment."
However, record companies dare not easily refuse the artists' requests. A firm rejection could easily escalate the conflict and damage the already fragile relationship between the artist and the company, resulting in more harm than good.
Qi Ke nodded in sudden realization, understanding the key point. Simply put, it was something that was neither appealing nor worth discarding.
"Never mind, it's none of our business anyway." Zeke picked up an exquisite domino eye mask and shoved it into Tino's hand. "I'm planning to make this into Spider-Man merchandise. Could you ask the factory in Brooklyn about the approximate cost of mass production?"
Tino held the thin, delicate eye mask in his hand, weighing it in his hand for a moment: "How much does this thing cost? It's just a few pieces of fabric and some small decorative rivets. It's worthless. I'll call and find out the bottom price for you later."
As the two chatted, director David Lynch approached with a neatly prepared shooting script.
"Zeeker, let me confirm the tone of the shoot one last time with you." David Lynch asked softly, his gaze focused. "The feeling you want is that in a somewhat gloomy outdoor setting, everyone is wearing these domino masks, and they're having a dream about 'music and cows,' right? The visuals will be beautiful, but also give off a chilling sense of dread."
"That's right, that's the feeling. You understand it perfectly." Zik nodded in agreement.
He recalled the original music video for Apocalypse. The script David was holding was completed by Judy based on his description. She had been immersed in film sets since childhood and aspired to be a director. She had read many related books and could easily handle short scripts of a few minutes.
"OK, everyone in position, ready to start filming!" David Lynch, having received confirmation, immediately turned around and raised his hand to signal the start of filming.
Shooting these kinds of music short films is very easy. There are no lines, no need for a coherent plot or superb acting skills. The core relies solely on atmosphere, styling, and camera movement.
The only thing that took a lot of effort was the camera positioning and the allocation of screen time for the characters.
The original music video only featured two actors, but the Spider Band is a five-member band. Zeke had to design camera movements tailored to the other three members on the spot, balance the screen time of each person, and ensure that everyone shines.
"Jimmy, stand directly in front of this camera position, keep a cool and still posture. Keith, sit down at the table, pretend to play a synthesizer, relax a bit."
"Anton and Holly, you two, stand in a circle with your cellos and put on your blindfolds."
"Just pretend you're playing, since they're not recording the sound live anyway."
Finally, he walked up to Amanda and carefully examined her: "Amanda, your cool and aloof temperament fits the tone of the song, but your eyes could be a little more arrogant, and your aura could be more expansive. Imagine yourself as a mafia member on a mission, calm, indifferent, and not to be trifled with, exuding an aura of oppression."
Amanda frowned and instinctively retorted, "How would I know what the Mafia is like? I've never had any contact with them."
Zik leaned down slightly, whispered in her ear, half-warning and half-threatening:
"Didn't you see it with your own eyes at the King's Lounge before? Remember that aura. Also, don't mention these people and things to anyone in the future. They hate being talked about everywhere. Those people aren't as mild-mannered as me."
A cool breeze brushed past her ears, and Amanda stiffened, instantly suppressing all her nonchalant emotions. She nodded solemnly, "Uh... I understand."
Amanda stepped back in front of the camera and put on the domino eye mask.
Zeke watched her through the monitor screen.
The arrogant and willful rich girl disappeared, replaced by a woman who exudes a sense of oppression.
Zeke suddenly realized that Peter was right.
This thing is definitely more than just an eye mask. It's like KISS's stage makeup; when you put it on, you're no longer yourself.