There was complete silence as the lights came up slowly in the screening room.
“So…” Ian’s eyes darted nervously around. “Is this a good stunned silence or a bad stunned silence?”
He heard someone mutter, “I need a cigarette.”
Suddenly the room was lighting up, ignoring all the politically correct signs and health justifications. There was a moment or two of Bic flicking, puffing and exhaling.
Suddenly someone slapped their free hand down on the arm of their screening chair. “That was absolutely brilliant.” And the room filled with thunderous applause.
Ian wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or second guess himself.
Ned Bellamy sat forward in his chair. “Ian…I am speechless. I’ve never seen anything like that. Riveting, just riveting. My heart is still beating at 90 miles an hour. Now, I admit I’m one of the few who’ve never read the books, so everything was a complete and utter surprise.”
“The downside,” leave it to Trent Rockford to throw water on the embers, “is that Amanda will editing another three hours into the episode to make up a week of the daytime soap.” He eased knowingly back in his chair. “The upside is that even with the extra footage it will still probably be much faster than most daytime dramas.”
“Actually…” Ian smiled. “…You’ve misunderstood. What you’ve just seen are the first two episodes of the daytime drama. Amanda is doing the opposite. Filming the soap and then editing it down into two hours per week for nine weeks, so the mini-series version we run in Prime Time will be even faster, pared down to major storylines or subplots you’ll have to tune into the daytime version to get resolution.”
Rockford was stunned. “That’s the daytime version?”
“Yes.”
His eyes couldn’t hide the skepticism. “Obviously what you are calling the European cut.”
“No. That’s what will run at 4 P.M. every afternoon, Monday through Friday.”
“That passed the censors?”
Ian laughed. “Oh, yeah. Not to say it won’t cause a little controversy in smaller markets, but everything follows FCC guidelines and regulations to the nth degree. In fact, the only other people to have seen these besides yourselves are FCC reps.”
Jessica Greginsky grinned. “Wonder what that European version contains.”
He handed her a DVD. “You may watch this in my office, but this DVD does not leave my sight. For those who want the Reader’s Digest version, the episodes usually run four to five minutes longer, harsher language, bits of sex and nudity that didn’t make the FCC guidelines.”
“No extra violence?”
“No extra violence.”
David Turner turned to face his board and invited guests. “All markets airing “Blood Kisses” has been given an either/or option. They must choose to run the version you’ve just seen as is at 4 PM or the European version at one in the morning.”
“And if they choose to run neither?” Rockford the wet blanket jumped in again.
“Then the contract states we may option to syndicate it to any competing station in their market. Initially six stations opted not to run it, sparking a bidding war in their markets. Four of those quickly changed their minds.”
“And the other two?” Ned Beatty has to ask.
“We’ll be the highest paid syndicated series in their market. Contracts have already been signed. Those two affiliates no longer have an option to run “Blood Kisses” for two years and with the buzz both are now balking…way too late.”
Ian leaned against the lip of the stage in front. “Let me also point out that 64 affiliates are not only running the daytime version but have purchased the rights to run the European cut at one A.M. as well. Thanks to that strategy, ladies and gentlemen, you have just seen the first two episodes of what is officially the first network daytime series to debut in the black.”
The screening room broke into thunderous applause. As it died down, Jessica Greginsky raised her hand like a schoolgirl. Ian couldn’t help but giggle as he nodded to her. “Excuse me, but I think I misunderstood. You said the Prime Time version would air two hours a week for nine weeks. I thought it was three hours a week for three weeks.”
David Turner waved at Ian to answer. “That was initially the thought, but after meeting with Amanda Jackson and seeing the rushes and the scripts, I decided to throw my weight around and overrule that decision.”
“It was going to be difficult to do justice to the Trilogy with only a total of nine hours in which to tell a 2600 page story. We didn’t want to offend the people who loved the books enough to make them the top selling paperbacks of all time.” Ian added.
“Now, Amanda has eighteen hours in Prime Time spread over nine weeks to make sure the rather rabid following is satisfied.” Turner took the floor back. “In addition that takes us up to the middle of November Sweeps, and another ten hours of air time during the day during sweeps to begin telling new stories of gothic brilliance.”
“…And speaking of brilliance, Wella…” Ian pointed to the front row.
Wella humbly stood up, a little nervous about making her first presentation to the Board. “Thank you, Ian. We have a new project to discuss, we hope. As you all know thanks to the brilliant editing and the borderline psychotic minds of Logan Snipe and William Kensington, our once and embarrassing bottom rated soap ‘Sebastian Manor’ has been trading places with ‘The Young and the Restless’ for number one.”
She waited patiently once again for the spontaneous applause. “But that little masterpiece comes to a close in August, and our little devil geniuses have finished their job. Ian saw fit to drop in my lap, what do with them now…” Wella turned to her boss with sarcasm, “…and I so want to thank you for making this my first solo assignment.”
“Just sign them to a contract before someone else snaps them up.” The ever-cheery Rockford snapped.
“Already done, Mr. Rockford.” Wella caught the look Ian gave her from the corner of his eye. “The problem being, Trent, was not to lock them into exclusivity but how to use their talents properly without having to shell out tons of cash to have them sit on their butts for the length of their contract as too many have in the past.”
“What’s the problem?” Ned simply asked. “What they did was brilliant.”
“No doubt.” Ian nodded. “There in lies the problem. Willy and Logan’s talent seems to be basically in making other people’s crap smell like strawberry ice cream, not in creating from their own ideas.”
“Oh.” Jessica bit her lip. “I see the problem.”
“At first we let them pitch a few ideas.” Wella wrinkled her nose. “I think in a few years, once they get some experience working with a good team of people that part will work itself out.” She nodded to Blake who dutifully stood and began passing folders out. “In the meantime, we think we’ve found something that works for us immediately and at the same time give them the experience they need.”
Guess who opened the folder and barked, “The Worst Show on Television? What kind of crap smelling crap is this?”
“Actually Trent,” Wella immediately stepped right up to Ian’s delight. “It’s actually an old concept with a new flair, a show within a show. Does anyone remember that film “Amazon Women On the Moon”?”
Someone in the back mused. “Oh yeah, that movie about the really cheap Sci-Fi movie running on late night TV that keeps breaking down so they start throwing anything in to take up dead air?”
“Exactly.” Wella said. “A little independent that did very well and became a cult hit on Video and again when dropped to DVD. It’s actually a similar concept, one pitched to us by Cassidy Roark….”
“Cassidy Roark?” Trent Rockford sat up straight in his screening seat. “Last year’s Oscar winner for Best Director?”
“That would be the one, also the man Ian signed an exclusive development deal with.” Wella beamed. “This is an idea he’s had for a longtime, but could never find a network to show interest or the right people to do it right.”
“He loves ‘Sebastian Manor Redux” and called me specifically to see if Willy and Logan would be interested in working with him. It’s the perfect vehicle for both.”
“Plus it gives them access to our vaults.” Wella tried to light dollar signs in the board’s eyes. “The crux of the story with in the story is terrible television, hence the title, so they’ll be scouring the vaults for obscure footage. If you approve the first six week arc would center around ‘Home Cookin’.”
“Oh my God!” Rockford sounded offended. “Why would anyone dig up that disaster? We pulled it after four episodes.”
Jessica agreed. “And as I recall we pulled it in the middle of an episode…and no one noticed.”
Ian laughed. “You might also recall that it was the last series aired that Simon Kent developed, and we paid for a full season to boot. This may help us recoup some of that wasted money.”
“The plan is…” Wella referred to the folders in everyone’s lap, “…to drop each arc with the complete series it’s based on and the Snipe/Kensington Redux of the series as one set.”
“What was the name of the bimbo who starred in that thing?” Denver Metcalfe asked no one specific.
“Tawny Turrell?” Ian was almost embarrassed he knew.
“That’s her!” Metcalfe pointed to Ian. “I wonder whatever happened to her?”
“I think she asked my kid if he wanted fries with that when we bought him his last happy meal.” Someone for the back of the room quipped.
“She did give her permission for use, so I assume she’s still connected in the business some how.” Wella pulled the conversation back to the pitch. “We’ve also decided the show would be a good match for some of the “Cattle Call” contestants. That little show has developed it’s own rabid following.”
“I love that show.” Jessica Greginsky sighed. “And I hate reality shows.”
“I was so mad when that cute little Tempie Chadwick got voted off.” Ned Beatty leaned into Jessica.
“What was America thinking…?”
“Children…back to…uh…reality.” Ian teased. “For those of you members of the board who don’t bother to keep up, I’d just like to point out that “Cattle Call” is now our highest rated series and our first to hit number one in three years.”
“But it’s the summer season…” Trent Rockford yawned.
Wella put her hands on her hips, but David Turner spoke out first. “But it’s pulling in numbers equal to any series we’ve run during the last three sweeps. It’s not pulling in “American Idol” numbers, but they’re growing episode by episode.”
“And I’ve already locked it in for the next three summers.” Wella blushed when she realized she’d just blown her own horn.
“We’ve found a lot of amazing talent already through the show.” Ian smiled. “I think we’re just seeing the beginning of a pretty phenomenal talent pool there. Granted, a lot of it is unseasoned, but with the right mentor programs there are going to be some pretty phenomenal careers launched through it.”
“…And HRT.” David Turner grinned ear to ear. As the group continued to discuss the pitch, Turner remembered walking out of this very building in January convinced there had to be someone in it who could help restore the network to its former glory. Looking at Ian Justyn, he knew he’d found his man.
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