Sometimes there was little to say, and on March 19, someone planned to use force to make the British compromise.
Public opinion was in an uproar.
Well, mostly Western media were in an uproar. Other regions remained calm, telling them to keep fighting and not spare them any face.
From William White's perspective, they were just two struggling comrades. Cooperation was the best choice; resorting to force was foolish.
He couldn't get involved, and had no stance to, just like a bystander watching calmly.
"Darling, you think they'll really fight?"
"At most, some minor clashes. No major crisis will erupt; both sides are broke. They'd drain their pockets in a week -- what's the point in fighting?"
Madonna rolled her eyes at him and gently said, "You're delighted, aren't you?"
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"I could feel it."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
William White was curious about what Britain's scrap metal could really do in a frontline. Ever since the Iron Lady took charge, they were selling everything. What's unsellable was mostly dismantled.
The reality was they stored their weapons away, and they couldn't even maintain law and order, let alone fight the Russians.
Modern warfare can be hilarious; the most essential thing is actually money. If you don't have enough hard currency, you're better off staying home.
...
Good fortune made William White's spirits high. Though he was filming and not dealing with the game company, his team didn't let him down. Not only did they teach companies making trash games a lesson, but they also made a fortune for him.
Though toy sales slowed, they were still within acceptable limits. The comic magazine continued to sell well, with potential for further growth.
Such promising companies were definitely stocks with potential.
Once the company succeeded in going public, all his funding problems would disappear like clouds.
"Michael, how's it going in France?"
"Boss, they're just dragging their feet. They must be furious."
"Hmph, looking at their work attitude, the future of that park looks bleak."
"There might still be some compensation in the end."
"That's fine. Once we go public, we'll revisit NBC and Disney's re-listing. Before that, get rid of this nuisance."
"Okay, boss."
...
NBC was doing pretty well, especially during the Falklands crisis, which brought it a lot of attention.
Of course, promoting their boss's movies was a must. They always needed to hype up.
Urging both sides to remain calm left people speechless.
Anyone could tell that there wasn't a sincere motive, at least there was a hint of schadenfreude.
The media is the one hoping for war the most. It grabs more attention than celebrity gossip. Even with self-media gaining popularity, once conflict starts, people still trust mainstream media more.
Barry Diller could only shrug; this was an order from the boss, and he had to execute it firmly.
You call for calm yet create a special report; do you want a fight or do you want a fight?
NBC was a serious network, and creating a news column naturally aimed to stir up conflicts. This wasn't hard to understand; that's just what journalists do. With no news, they make news.
The problem was their shouting for a peaceful resolution, which was truly baffling.
...
The world was becoming less peaceful, and economic recovery was impossible to discuss, except for the IT industry doing fairly well, and surprisingly, Coca-Cola was also rising against the trend.
Wall Street's fund managers were going crazy; how was it even reasonable? Randomly buying some stocks, and they all rose against the trend. In the current depression, such performance was indeed impressive.
Insider information?
Don't joke; the White Fund had been buying continuously, with no intention of short-term profit-taking.
Where there were winners, there were also those grinding their teeth in frustration. The old-timer at Citibank was already mad as a hatter.
Give up?
No way, respect needed to be regained. Given the current situation, one syndicate was evidently insufficient. To deal a heavy blow to William White, suitable partners had to be found.
Honestly, many people wanted to trouble William White. These were all things he had to keep in mind. As for how to prevent it, well, you can't spend hundreds of days guarding against thieves when thieves spend only a day planning.
With no way to prevent it, why bother worrying? If someone provoked, he'd just hammer them hard, and if one hammer wasn't enough, he'd keep hammering.
"35%? You sure?"
"Yes, boss, NBC's ratings have been steadily rising, and this is a conservative estimate. Their ratings are even better during news segments and the sitcom time slots."
The old geezer at Citibank was getting more troubled. This wasn't a joke; more than a third of Americans watched their program -- a very powerful means of publicity.
Yes, no one could ignore such power.
Once again, the importance of television media was on the old geezer's desk. Honestly, he now felt quite stuck.
In this situation, he understood the role of publicity. Just look at William White. Every time he made a film, there was all sorts of hype.
Couldn't quite understand it, why were the other TV networks so useless?
The old geezer overthought it; with the current networks, there was talent aplenty, and everyone was doing alright. Even in such a harsh economic environment, cable and public TV were thriving.
...
"Boss, you think a war will break out?"
"Wow, Jason, you nuts? How would I know? I've been back for a while, and I swear it's not my doing."
"Pfft," not only Jason laughed, but his assistant also chuckled.
An unsatisfied Jason commented, "It's you causing trouble with the gals, the rest, well, not your thing."
"Haha, truly a soul mate. Cheers to a great drink. Alright, if the situation changes, you can head to Lanai Island. Even 10 or 20 thousand could stay there."
"By the way, why get riled up over something that isn't our concern? Even if fighting breaks out, it'll be minimal contact."
"How come?"
"Come on, what's war about? Resources! Forget those two broke nations, even we can't handle it. Fighting over nothing is laughable."
"Now I feel better, but boss, you'd look foolish setting up a special publication."
"Dummy, if nothing happens, just boot out an editor, claim a temp worker's fault, blame insufficient oversight from the editor and CEO, and incur a minor fine. Easy."
Jason was utterly defeated by him. He never expected someone to come up with such an explanation.
"Alright, I admit you're more shameless than I am. Let's eat first, talk other things later."
"Haha."
*****
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