At the Los Angeles Country Club's VIP lounge, Martin and Leonardo had already arrived, but there was still no sign of Nicholson.
"Where's that old coot? Did Jennifer Lawrence finally wring him dry?" Leonardo checked his watch impatiently. "He's half an hour late!"
Recalling Nicholson's recent heart attack, Martin dialed his phone.
A knock interrupted them, and Bruce answered the door to admit Nicholson, who entered, visibly winded, and collapsed onto the sofa.
Martin quipped, "Did Lawrence thank you profusely last night?"
Nicholson wheezed, pulling out a bag. "Thank me? She practically wanted to strangle me, demanding I apply makeup until she was caked in it."
Leonardo raised an eyebrow. "How much makeup did she need?"
"It was endless," Nicholson sighed, producing a hefty envelope. "I offered Lawrence an out, but she's not budging."
Martin didn't mince words. "You're 70 and still a cad."
"An old cad!" Leonardo chimed in.
Ignoring the jibes, Nicholson tossed the envelope to Martin. "Take a look."
Opening it, Martin found several photos, each depicting a corpse from various angles.
"Did things escalate that quickly?" Martin recognized the six figures in the photos.
Nicholson explained, "Two hundred grand tends to motivate people."
Leonardo inspected the images, remarking, "Mexico sure is chaotic."
Martin sealed the photos and handed them to Bruce. "Dispose of these."
"Let's head to the training ground. We need to vote today," Leonardo suggested.
Nicholson winced. "I'll pass on swinging today. I'll fill out the ballots for you."
At the training court, each had reserved a spot, with pre-prepared names affixed to the courts. They'd decide their votes based on where their golf balls landed, ensuring impartiality.
After a morning of struggles, they finished voting, with Nicholson grumbling about making a documentary on Oscar voting.
Martin took a swing, jesting, "We'll call it '108 Ways to Ensure Fairness in Oscar Voting!'"
Leonardo added, "And demand royalties from the Academy for promoting it."
Following their unique voting method, they retired to the club's restaurant for a well-deserved buffet lunch.
As Martin approached their table with his plate, he noticed an unfamiliar man seated there.
The man stood and introduced himself politely, "Hello, Mr. Davis. I'm Braun, an entertainment agent."
Taking a seat, Martin exchanged glances with Nicholson and Leonardo.
Leonardo nodded. "Braun here has a novel idea for golf."
Braun seated himself, unveiling a tablet computer. "Allow me to explain. This weekend, there's a special golf event featuring distinguished and successful participants like yourselves. Beyond fostering social connections, the event promises exhilarating gameplay."
Nicholson scoffed. "Is there any golf I haven't played?"
Braun tapped on the tablet, revealing a photo placed before the trio.
A stunning blonde lay provocatively on the green, accentuating two prominent mounds. A ball holder, perched strategically between the hills, bore golf balls awaiting impact.
Next, Braun clicked to another image—this time featuring a fiery redhead against a backdrop of brown-red grass.
"Intriguing," Leonardo remarked, eyes alight with curiosity. "How's that ball holder so sturdy?"
"It's a special design," Martin mused casually.
Braun affirmed, "Indeed, specially engineered for stability."
The trio exchanged knowing glances, grasping the true purpose behind the design.
Braun, mindful of their reputation, queued up a video. The clip showcased the blonde, followed by a swing from her companion—resulting in a startling elevation of the hills.
Martin averted his gaze, envisioning the potential danger.
As Braun concluded the demonstration, he proposed, "Would you like to join? We offer transportation and solutions for any issues, all for a ticket price of $3,999."
Nicholson and Leonardo declined with subtle shakes of their heads. Despite their notoriety, they drew the line at such antics.
Nicholson mused, "It's quite inventive, though."
Braun leaned in, confiding, "The concept? Courtesy of Tiger Woods."
Martin's surprise was palpable. Tiger Woods, indeed, was no ordinary figure.
Nicholson dismissed Braun politely. "We're more traditional in our approach. Perhaps you'll find other takers."
Martin interjected firmly, "Let's not spoil our meal. Thank you."
Apologizing, Braun gathered his belongings and departed.
Nicholson glanced at Leonardo. "Not intrigued?"
"I have a deep respect for women," Leonardo replied earnestly.
"And you, Martin?" Nicholson inquired.
Martin's response was straightforward. "I'm not keen on inflicting harm on innocent people with my lack of skill."
Leonardo mulled over Martin's words, realizing that despite his brashness, Martin reserved his aggression for those who provoked him.
Nicholson grinned mischievously. "One day, we'll get Megan Ellison lying on that golf ball, and you can have a swing."
Similar to Bell, Martin approached adversaries with unwavering resolve: "Excellent idea, Jack. The ball's in your court now. I've been waiting for this day!"
Following a leisurely lunch and a brief interlude, the trio cast their Oscar votes en route back to Los Angeles.
While Leonardo and Nicholson opted for a nightclub excursion, Martin diverged, heading to Disney Studios for an afternoon appointment.
Amidst a backdrop of bustling Hollywood crews departing California for shoots, Disney Studios and Warner Studios remained bustling hubs.
Beside a medium-sized sound stage, a two-story office building, recently vacated, awaited a fresh coat of paint—a symbol of the studio's revitalization.
As Martin arrived, he spotted Marius, Alexandrovich, Olina, and a cadre of Davis Studio employees ferrying office supplies into the refurbished building.
Within these walls now resided the newly established "Napoleon Beauty Pass" studio, complete with independent financial oversight.
Delegate financial matters and production responsibilities fell under Alexandrovich's purview, who, despite recent weight loss, remained resolute in his commitment to the project.
"We've wrapped up the scripts and are confident about wrapping up production this year," Alexandrovich declared, acknowledging Martin's invaluable support. "You've been our greatest advocate, and in return, we're dedicated to delivering our best work."
Olina chimed in, "We've never encountered an investor as supportive and upbeat as you. Investors back in Ukraine are notorious for their stinginess and meddling tendencies..."
Martin nodded knowingly. "Ukraine has potential. If the opportunity arises, I'll consider investing there."
Alexandrovich eagerly offered his assistance. "I have connections in Ukraine. I'd be happy to help."
Grinning, Martin placed a reassuring hand on Alexandrovich's shoulder. "I'll hold you to that."
"I won't let you down," Alexandrovich affirmed.
Turning to business matters, Martin addressed the imminent release of funds and logistics. "The next round of funding will be transferred soon. Prepare accordingly. WMA can facilitate recruitment for all roles."
Martin had entrusted Thomas Lane at WMA with the task of staffing the project.
Alexandrovich disclosed, "I've spoken with Thomas about casting Svetlana as the lead."
Martin, momentarily forgetting the Russian actress, nodded absently. "Alright."
Curious about further casting decisions, Alexandrovich sought guidance.
Martin brushed off the details, delegating authority. "You and Thomas can handle it."
Understanding Martin's implicit trust, Alexandrovich accepted the responsibility, grateful for the vote of confidence.
After a brief pause, Alexandrovich proposed, "I have another comedic idea—a tale about a beloved Ukrainian star's journey to presidency."
Martin regarded him thoughtfully. "Put it in writing and submit it to me."