Not in any way contrary to the kind of un-interferring approach his grandfather is alotting, Alexander truly takes advantage and stretches his freedom a lot.
Case in point, on the very next day, he's really quick to be out and about.
Out for a trip, mostly about business. In no way for celebratory indulgence.
As far as he's concerned, he's already got that out of his system. Because of what he's done last night.
Where he pushed the boundaries as a Best Original Song winner... by actually experimenting with yelps and moans, and their potential in music.
Because, surely, songs couldn't be any more original with that. Au naturale even.
All in jest, of course.
Anyways, with that covered, his usual mannerism is almost as if he's not just won a prestigious award that a lot covets.
It's also almost as if March 31st wasn't a Tuesday and that he wasn't technically still a student.
Something that Monica Bellucci, his almost day-to-day companion, kind of begrudgingly accepts.
Begrudgingly, because of all the multi-dating and pressing school matters that she's had to assistingly secretarialize around.
She didn't dare vocalize her complaints that much, however.
He's the boss and she's just his supposed consigliere.
For whatever job description that entails, she is dutily working on it, even as Mr. Driver just took off to the roads.
Given the situation, reading reports and data was not an optimal option, so she just outright said. "I've just been given an earlier call that Marvel has officially finished the final deliberations with Hasbro, little boss."
"I take it that they've given a lot of concessions then?" Alexander reasonably inquired.
"I've not really gotten the full details yet but officially, the toy licensing of Marvel characters is now out of their hands and the drawback of trademarking Transformers should be good as gone." Even she's relieved at this turn of events.
It just means that the planned transformation of the Cybertronians and their chronicles are finally on track and on brand.
A very fitting Transformers kind.
Of course, not much excitement really generated out of her boss's expression, just an impassive acknowledgment, so she had to eye-rolling-ly reel herself in.
"Ehem..." After a transitioning cough, she connectingly inquired. "So, should I have the personnel at Creed Toys be extra busy with the rebranding and their own design of Marvel paraphernalia?"
Alexander sort of perked up at that, but he also had considerations. "What about that other thing that they might also be hands-on with?"
"Unfortunately..." Monica didn't really want to be the bearer of bad news, but she had to. "Games Workshop wasn't too keen on the idea you've proposed."
"Aside from staking it all with their pre-existing Warhammer Fantasy Battle, it would seem our interest only spurred them to treasure their 2nd edition 40,000 times more." Sighed she, as a sign of regret.
Granted, Alexander just hummed and out-of-pocketly comment. "Perhaps it's also a sign that the quadruple streak is finally over... by a factor of 10,000."
Trouble no more, he figured.
Although, it is an interesting trend for him to figure that he missed out on some that he's targeted.
From Papa Johns to California Pizza Kitchen... and now Games Workshop. Originators do tend to push back when they have much faith in their creation.
The lucky ones that he wasn't able to truly snipe, claiming them as his "own".
Starbucks, however, was an ugly mermaid that the true owners wanted to get out of. While Pajitnov and Tetris could be another thing entirely.
Not that he'll have to worry when it comes to the property that he's heading towards.
Towards a property that was a bonus in Marvel's purchase, currently housing a very yellow property that he very much needs to greenlight.
The only thing stopping him was probably the reds in the incoming traffic lights.
Mr. Driver has got to look out for those, especially in the upcoming busy streets of Hollywood.
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In a twist of fate...
While Alexander was right on his way to inspect what Marvel Productions has been trying to produce for him...
Which, at this point, is obviously The Simpsons...
Its creator of olde just so happens to also be drawn towards it, as its new "creator" was on his way.
Ye twisted fate, indeed.
The feeling in Matt Abram Greoning's gut sure does allude to that.
He didn't know how and why, but he just had to get to the bottom of what's bugging him.
So, he pulled some strings, or just pulled the heartstrings of someone who can pull said strings.
It also helped that he knew someone who was already part of Marvel Productions
This man he knew was not that shy of voicing his reluctant acceptance, however. "Remember, I'm only doing this to return the favor, Matt."
"Yeah yeah..." Matt mirthfully appeased. "You don't have to remind me thrice. I could even sign an NDA if you want?"
"Besides, you can think of me being here as someone who's on a Fox Broadcasting errand. Checking out this show that's going to be aired on their timeslots." He added.
The insider pal had other concerns though. "Hopefully, that's enough. Enough to counter the fact that Creed and its actual head honcho are actually visiting here on the same day as you. Talk about bad timing."
"You're not kidding, right?" Matt Groenig's alarms were piqued while his insider pal was almost pissed. "Why would I kid about this?! That's my boss's boss's boss. Perhaps even more boss than that. Just imagine, what would happen if he finds out that I'm bringing in a risk like you?!"
No answer was given as Matt's thoughts spun elsewhere.
After all, he did his research and knew who the leader of Creed was. The person he just so happens to be inclined to meet with.
Which really beckons back to why he was here in the first place.
It's a bit convoluted but the gist was that a showbiz producer had wanted to meet up with him.
The aforementioned producer is James L. Brooks, who was working on the television variety show called The Tracey Ullman Show.
Who also happened to have decided to include small animated sketches before and after the commercial breaks.
Of course, this turn of events was stirred by the fact that Joan Rivers quit her job and put The Late Show in disarray.
The broadcasting Fox station really needed a replacement comedian and a replacement show... so it all came about, for Tracy Ullman who got his own show.
As for where Matt himself came into the picture... well, James Brooks figured that since Fox's other figurehead shows are literally cartoons about dragons and turtles, why not have cartoon skits as well?
And... who better to pitch a cartoon skit than a cartoonist? It's almost the same, right?
Regardless, Matt, not wanting to waste the opportunity with his Life in Hell comic strip, wanted to pitch away.
However, he later realized that animating Life in Hell would require the rescinding of publication rights for his life's work.
He didn't want that, therefore, he had to go for another approach...
While waiting in the lobby of Brooks's office for their meeting... he hurriedly formulated his version of a dysfunctional family that became the Simpsons.
Cause it sounded like simpletons and that's funny in his books.
Then, he named the characters after his own family members, substituting "Bart" for his own name, adopting an anagram of the word brat.
With quick sketches and all, he hoped that it was more than enough. But he wasn't too sure.
Still, he pitched away...
Only to be hit with a baseball-esque foul.
James Brooks actually looked at him suspiciously and warily prodded about how in the hell did he get wind of Fox's upcoming project... and how in the hell did he have the guts to present it as his own to his face...
At that moment, it sure was Life in Hell... for Matt Groening himself.
This circles back to the true reason why he was here... to get some answers...
To how did someone come up with the same idea as him? And be faster and earlier at doing so?
Why was it also Simpsons? Why the same names as his family members? Why the same Bart? Why is it almost the same as his quick sketches? Why was it almost the same art style and all?
Why? Why? Why?
And all he'll get was most likely a lot of missed Xs and losing zZs.
Maybe... Marvel Productions can give him some clues...
Better yet... Alexander Creed, the very name that had marked the Simpsons as his own, could very well be the only one who held the truest truth.
Also visiting in on the most opportune time.
So... to the dismay of his insider pal... Matt waited...
For the man that was at the source of this very bugging mystery.
And waited...
For the man that was actually sort of familiar from a certain comic strip than probably far outstrips his own.
And waited...
Until the mysterious man of the hour, Alexander Creed, finally arrived!
To Matt, and the animation studio onlooker's shock... besides the shocking beauty that was beside the "man"...
Alexander Creed was actually not yet technically a man at all! Not even a teen!
He was just a freaking kid!!!
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It really took a while.
A lot of thoughts bombarded Matt Groening at the same time, whilst he was stunned all the same.
He couldn't... and didn't even want to go for a confrontation anymore.
Because this stunning revelation was just too much!
Not counting this kid's achievements in other fields, 'Calvin and Hobbes' in their duality is already a gut punch to an adult who considers cartooning as his livelihood.
Not really a remedy to the gut feeling that brought him here in the first place, is it?
Even more so as the young boy looked his way, those eyes... they seemed to flicker green and red...
He's not sure what to make of that, but Matt felt disturbed.
It felt as though his future had changed even more under that gaze, disenchanting himself from the great dream that he had aspired to have.
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On the other hand, Alexander didn't really care for the what's what... but wasn't this the guy that got interviewed by David Letterman for the Simpsons itself?
Matt Groening in the flesh?
Granted, Alexander wasn't idol-worshipping in any way.
He just found it uncanny that the guy appeared here when he earlier mused about "originator pushback".
Of course, it alarmed him, just a bit.
Pushing him to undoubtedly plunder Futurama and perhaps even Disenchantment, for good measure.
A good measure of pettiness.