Blake re-entered the room and handed the phone to Ian. “Excuse me, Ian, but this is an emergency. You need to take this…”
“Thank you.” Ian took the cell and went through as brief series of “uhs” and “I sees”.
Turner leaned over to Reilly. “Baxter, I’m afraid my money’s on the new kid.”
Reilly had lost his smile and started to sweat by the time that Ian closed the phone and handed it back to Blake. Ian smiled, folded his hands and nodded his head while looking over the contract in front of him. “Gentlemen, we do have a small problem. I apologize.”
Metcalfe looked panicked. “Oh?”
“Yes, I’m afraid we’ve been looking at the wrong contract. This is Mr. Reilly’s original contract not the renewal. We need the one hammered out by Simon Kent and Reilly himself.”
Reilly waved his hands in the air, “Oh that’s just a formality. They are virtually the same, just the dates and a few numbers changed.”
“No, no. We can’t proceed until we have the formal, current contract. It just wouldn’t be fair to you, now would it?” Ian turned to Blake. “Blake, do you have the current contract for Mr. Reilly?”
“Hmmmm.” Blake said. “Let me see. I think it’s here…” he shuffled through his stack of papers.
David Turner smiled and pulled it out of his coat pocket. “Why I have it right here.”
Ian snatched it before Baxter Reilly could. “Oh thank you, Mr. Turner. It was very hard to find. Did you realize that after it was signed it never got sent up to legal to be filed? If it wasn’t for the fact that Mr. Turner started demanding to see it, and Simon Kent’s secretary found it behind the filing cabinet in his office, Mr. Reilly here would probably have the only valid copy.”
Reilly eyes were wide. “Oh, I’m sure that was just an error on his part…”
David Turner smiled. “I’m sure…”
“Oh here it is!” Blake pulled out copies for everyone in the room. Metcalfe quickly scanned it.
“I thought you said it was basically the same, Reilly?” Metcalfe was not happy.
“Let me give you the bullet points, just in case you’ve forgotten Baxter…” Ian suggested.
“No…let me…” David Turner stood. “It seems that Mr. Reilly here and Mr. Kent formed a little production company, along with a third party which they would have to do to legally incorporate. A little production company that owns the title and all footage once HRT finished airing it. HRT gets a fair share of the profit, as does Reilly here, along with a nice chunk for their little company…a nice chunk that gets bigger in foreign markets and bumping to 100% of those profits the moment the show gets cancelled for as long as it continues to run in those foreign markets.”
“And seeing that most of those markets are several years behind in airings that would give their little company millions of dollars in pure profit pure year for a minimum five to seven years.” Ian put his finger to his lips. “Hmmm…I wondered why Kent seemed so adamant that Manor get canned…the greedy little devil.”
“Don’t get cocky…” Reilly snapped. “Bottom line, like it or not, this is a valid contract and you will honor it!”
“You are absolutely right…” Ian said “…and we have every intention of honoring it should we cancel “Sebastian Manor”…
“You have no choice…and Blood Kisses is still mine. That little dyke can kiss my ass.”
“Keep the lips and the comments in check, Reilly. Don’t offer anything up until I’m through with it. I’m afraid you didn’t read your own contract correctly or maybe you’re just not very good at this.” Ian smiled while he let that sink in. “Perhaps you just need a nap!”
“Let me read a little addendum here that you keep misquoting…upon cancellation of said program, HRT is hereby bound to fill the vacated time slot with any drama developed by either Baxter Reilly or his production company.”
“What’s the point? It’s there in black and white. I get any show used to fill Manor’s time slot.” Reilly smile was back with a vengeance.
Metcalfe sat up. He got the point. “Oh, you or this company have a new show in development?”
“Of course not, we…” Reilly looked like he had just been hit with a truck. “I could claim that I was not given notice or enough time to develop a new show…”
“You’ve been at the bottom of the ratings from the get go Reilly. No one’s going to believe that.”
“Fine, but Amanda Jackson doesn’t have the experience I do, and I have two Emmy nominations for writing…” Reilly tried to talk his way into Blood Kisses.
“True, Amanda does not have experience as a head writer, and you do have two Emmy nominations, as a member of a writing team, not one for any soap as a head writer—not one.”
“Neither does she.” he insisted.
“No but she does have six nominations and two wins as a member of a writing team, and she would have had the head writer’s experience, but you weaseled a job away from her and then managed to black ball her.”
“That’s her side of the story.”
“Don’t care…and I need to take just a little break to thank you,” Ian smiled.
“What for?” Baxter spit.
“If it weren’t for the way you treated Amanda, she never would have agreed to my idea for a daytime soap. As soon as she realized in doing so she got carte blanche sweet revenge, it unleashed some astounding creativity and a not so surprisingly long line of very talented revenge seeking people all of whom you treated just as badly or worse.” Ian smiled. “‘Blood Kisses’ is hers and hers alone. Just like Sensation Manor is yours and yours alone.”
“Which you are canceling.”
“Which we are not.” Ian shut the folder in front of him.
“You can’t afford three soaps!” Reilly pounded his fist on the table.
Metcalfe agreed with him. “Unfortunately Ian, he’s right. We don’t have much of a choice here.”
“Yes we do.” Ian said
“Legal gave the okay?” Turner asked.
“100%” Ian smiled, “and they offered me a job. As of this moment production on ‘Sebastian Manor’ has been suspended. It is not cancelled; has just been suspended until further notice.”
“You can’t do that!” Reilly screamed.
Ian smiled. “If you don’t like it, sue me...bitch.” He stood up. “I think this concludes our business…I need a nap.”
“Wait! You little asshole! I still own “Sebastian Manor” the moment it ceases production, cancelled or not I can take it elsewhere and sell it.”
Ian smiled. “You are absolutely correct, Reilly and I am sure that the bottom soap you took pains to make sure was the laughing stock of the industry has great value, and once again you don’t do this very well.”
“Excuse me?” Reilly bellowed.
“Reilly you own the title and the story. Anything you’ve written or filmed still belongs to us, as well as any likeness or facsimile, until we’ve cancelled it. Leaving you with a title and some characters you can’t write for for another four years. You also forgot that the actor’s contracts are with HRT not your little company, so any one who would be fool enough to buy that piece of shit would have to completely recast.”
“You can’t do this!” Reilly slammed both fists on the table and spit as he whaled.
“I just did…take me to court if you like. In fact, I dare you.” Ian stood and headed for the door. “I can assure you personally that every newspaper in the country will be faxed a copy of that contract. While what you pulled is not illegal, it is certainly unethical and you’ll never work again.”
Ian picked up his backpack and shook hands with everyone in the room, saving Reilly for last, who refused to take his hand. “Reilly this has been so much fun. I leave you with three words to remember my by…kiss my ass
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