Red Robin was a small chain specializing in gourmet hamburgers. A family oriented place, they had the second best hamburgers in the world, and the best chocolate shakes. It was their second visit in as many weeks.
“Back again?” The hostess recognized them.
“I’d have been back sooner, but I cain’t drive yet.” Ronnie smiled.
“Table for two?” She asked.
“Three, please.” Ian said. “A friend should be joining us shortly.”
The young girl looked at Ian. “I’m sorry Mr. Justyn, are you waiting for Mr. Torkelson?”
“Yes. Yes we are.”
“He’s already waiting for you.” She picked up two menus and two rolls of silverware. “Follow me please. We have you discreetly in the back.”
“Thank you.”
Ronnie followed the young lady, chipperly chatting most of the way. Ian followed behind, lead to a darker end of the restaurant. Ian forgot this was Hollywood, even superstars liked to bring their kids to family burger joints. Of course they would have a section out of the way, a little harder to get to and with dimmer lighting.
When he saw them coming, Jeff Torkelson stood and smiled. “I was beginning to think I’d been stood up.”
“Sorry, the traffic was a little heavier than normal.” Ian shook his hand. “Jeff, this is my son Ronnie.”
Jeff smiled and put out his hand. Ronnie took it and simply said , “Hi.”
Jeff pulled out a chair and Ian helped Ronnie sit. “Ronnie, Mr. Torkelson is going to be starring in a new series this fall.”
“We hope”. Jeff said.
“You look familiar.” Ronnie smiled. “I only used to get two channels, now we got so many I’ll never be able to watch ‘em all.”
“Most of them aren’t worth watching.” Jeff pulled up a chair to one side of him.
Ian tried hard to hide the pride as Ronnie began asking a series of very intelligent questions for a ten-year-old farm boy. Jeff kept looking at Ian, sitting on the other side of his son, with his own impressed look.
“Are you sure, you’re not just a very short executive?” Jeff finally asked.
“Not today.” Ronnie allowed the waitress to put the chocolate shake in front of him that Ian had ordered. “Maybe when I finish grammar school though. I think I’d be fun.”
“Grammar school, huh?” Jeff smiled. “Any idea what you really want to be?”
“Well…” Ronnie thought while sipping his shake. “I think I’d like to be like my Papa.”
“And exactly what is that?” He asked.
Ronnie looked at Torkelson like he should have known. “He makes people’s dreams come true.” The boy grinned from ear to ear.
“That he does.” Jeff grinned at Ian. “That he does.”
Ian put his arm around the back of Ronnie’s chair. “Puppy, Mr. Torkelson and I are going to talk a little shop while we eat. Is that okay with you?”
“Sure.” Ronnie looked at his father. “Do ya need my help? I’m in a pretty important demo…they aim lots a commercials at me.”
Jeff laughed. “That they do.” He sipped his own shake. “Tell you what. I’ll take all the help I can get.”
“What’s the problem Mr. Torkelson?” Ronnie pushed his glass to the side and folded his hands together on the tabletop.
“Well, Younger Justyn…” Jeff started with, making Ronnie grin from ear to ear. “We had a premise for my new show, but it’s not working. Do you understand what I mean by premise?”
Ronnie nodded. “What the show is about.” He turned to Ian. “Right?”
“Right.”
Ronnie cleared his throat and turned back to Jeff. “So the show’s suckin’ big time and you need to figure out how to fix it before September.”
“Exactly.”
Ronnie cocked his head and put his finger to his chin. “Do ya have anything in the...can?”
Even Ian was impressed with that one. “Not yet son. We have some scripts, one good, one okay and the rest really bad.”
“Really, really bad.” Jeff added.
“Well, my Grampaw says that you have to buy the seeds before ya plant the garden. Seems to me what you needs to do is make sure ya got all the right tools, plow the ground up real good and make sure everything’s ready. My guess is ya tossed a handful a seeds from boxes with pretty pictures and didn’t realize that most wildflowers is just weeds.”
There was a cackle from someone sitting behind them. “I think I understood that.” Jeff said.
“He’s been hanging around Tippy Shores a lot.” Ian said. “Ronnie, put that in English for us.”
Ronnie rolled his eyes. “You rushed into something and didn’t think it through. Since ya didn’t lose nothing but a little time and some paper, just yank up the weeds and re-seed the field.”
“Ah!” Jeff nodded. “Younger Mr. Justyn, you want to walk your father and I through this process. Just so we don’t make any mistakes this time.”
“Okay. What cha got that’s good?”
“Well, me, of course?” Jeff said.
“Blow your own horn much?” Ronnie said to another cackle from behind them. Ronnie smiled, “Just teasin’ sir. If ya weren’t good my Papa wouldn’t give you the time of day. What else you bringin’ to the table?”
“The writer’s are good.” Jeff said.
“Great actually.” Ian piped in. “Probably the best comedy writing team around.”
“Then why is the show so bad, Papa?” Ronnie asked.
“Once and a while, when it comes to a series, the original idea is funny and easy to write for, but…” Ian thought a second to properly explain to his son, and maybe even to himself. “But the hard part is coming up with an idea and characters that make it easy to write consistently good episodes.”
“Writers, actors and producers have to come up with twenty two to twenty four really good episodes a year.” Jeff added. “And then do that every year as long as they keep making the show.”
“I never thought of it that way.” Ronnie sipped his milk shake. “So your idea was good, but it’s not…uhm…good enough for more than one or two really funny shows.”
“That’s right.”
“So come up with another idea you can get more good shows out of.” Ronnie sat back in his chair and smiled. “Problem solved.”
“Sort of.” Ian said. “The problem is we have a contract that looked like a good idea at the time, but has everybody at a disadvantage because of some things that were put in that have kind of painted us in a corner.”
“Like a bill from Congress?” Ronnie asked. Whoever it was behind them, howled this time. Ronnie turned around to see who it was, but turned back.
“Pretty much.” Ian said. “It’s a good contract, but if we adhere to it we turn out a really bad show that loses the company lots of money, and damages the reputations of Mr. Torkelson and some other really good people.”
“Do think you so, too, Mr. Torkelson?” Ronnie asked.
“Yes.”
Ronnie shrugged. “Tear up the contract and start over.”
“What?” Ian said.
“Hey, I’m just a kid wondering where his hamburger is, but a contract is an agreement between two people to make sure everything done a certain way right?”
“Well…yes.” Ian said.
“If both people think it was bad, can’t you both agree to tear it up or make another contract that says the first one sucks and we agree to do this instead?”
Lights went off in both Jeff and Ian’s heads. Ian looked at his son. “Kid, you want a job?”
“I got one.” Ronnie sucked on his straw, obviously at the bottom of his shake. “An’ I’m only getting ten bucks a week for it. Let me get a new agent an’ I’ll get back to ya.”
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