[Chapter 624: Better to Be a Playboy]
Recently, a bunch of tycoons were left stunned. The kid they'd been wary of suddenly shifted gears.
This guy used to have plenty of scandals, but none of them were as outrageous as this one. Has he started to get cocky?
"A playboy? Sure, maybe. But so what? Have you seen his assets take a nosedive?" The Morgan Stanley boss scoffed at his underlings. In every election year, some things just can't be explained.
"Sir, there hasn't been a huge drop, but his assets have definitely been marked down. His gold holdings are way too high, plus that oil."
"Gold? Ha! That's just him dodging taxes. As for oil, if he crashes, what's Rockefeller going to do? Just declare bankruptcy? Stop the chatter and keep your eyes peeled."
"Got it, sir."
It takes time to pretend to be crazy. Three to five days, no one will believe it. There is no fool who can climb to this position.
...
"Boss, your scene, tut tut, is full of legs."
With a wry smile, William White could only shake his head at his buddy.
"Jason, look at those cute micro skirts, so white and lovely."
"What? Micro skirts? Wow, that's a great term."
William was stunned; he hadn't realized that phrase was even in circulation yet. Am I becoming a wordsmith?
The legs are not long enough, the skirt is not short enough. Well, these are hot pants of skirts.
A group of paparazzi outside the film set hit the jackpot, some of whom were already climbing trees for a better view. Dang, they're not here very often, but this scene seems more like a bathhouse.
Man, I've got to see this movie; I heard it's coming out in IMAX. Wow, just the thought of all those legs flying around sounds fantastic.
This version of Fast and Furious is nothing like the original. If there had to be a comparison, it's more similar to The Transporter. The original scripts were way too outdated; come on, robbing a VCR? What kind of nonsense is that?
Turning the car racer into a job is the only way to keep that IP alive. Street racing? It's supposed to be played this way. Using it to transport laundry? Come on, you're just asking for the FBI to come after you.
Making crime films in America isn't easy. Don't let the seemingly relaxed censorship fool you. Get too detailed with the criminal undertones, and you're in hot water.
"Hmm, you say I should shoot an R-rated film?"
That's definitely possible; if you're catering to a niche audience, you could still make 'action' films. Just go all out with it; don't worry, no one will be watching you closely.
Just one thing: don't get too fixated on box office numbers. There are very few R-rated films that truly hit it big.
"Damn, they've cleared the area. We can't get in."
"Why don't we try to bribe security?"
"Are you crazy? That's the security company that thrashed that Saddam."
...
After a full day of shooting, the big boss treated everyone for a night out. Well, everyone seemed to be having a great time. Extras are still extras, but who knows, maybe tonight's a lucky break.
"George, this is Hollywood. Look around! No annoying politicians -- you should be more relaxed."
George W. Bush chuckled bitterly; he was convinced he was getting old. Here he was, feeling somewhat awkward in this setting.
"You all are going way overboard. I bet tomorrow morning all the major US media will be running your photo," he said.
"Pfft, what's the big deal? If I wanted to be on the front page, I could be there every day."
A headline about blowing a million bucks in cash, paired with a blurry photo. Even that blurry shot of piles of cash on the coffee table would certainly be dazzling enough.
After taking a beating, getting a photo in return made that paparazzo pretty happy.
...
Drinking too much brings headaches. Those time-travel perks aren't worth much. Glancing up at the ceiling, which looked unfamiliar, he realized he must have slept in a hotel again last night.
"Sir, are you having breakfast first or heading back to the office?"
"Back to the office. Have someone clean this place up."
"Understood, sir."
In the grand presidential suite, it was a mess. William White felt overwhelmed. He could remember the first half of the night but not after that. Well, whatever.
"Ugh, damn it, whose bite is this? Please, for the love of God, don't let it be rabies." William White kept complaining, though, truthfully, he was just being dramatic. This scene wasn't unfamiliar to him -- or perhaps, to him across both lives, he never really changed.
The difference now was that he understood moderation. Speaking of preferences, he still preferred living recklessly and without restraint. Of course, having lived in two different eras, he knew that to play for the long game, he had to work hard; otherwise, he could end up dead with empty pockets.
"Hey, where's today's paper?"
His little assistant hesitated but eventually brought over a stack of newspapers. The content, well, that didn't need any guessing.
"Seriously? The Wall Street Journal? You're supposed to be a serious media outlet."
"Cough, cough, sir, they said you're drowning your sorrows in alcohol. They've also downplayed gold investments."
"Really? Is that so? Hmph, talking value investing with you fools? Tsk, those little guys really got lucky. The car isn't even on the market yet, and the media is already fawning over it."
William White read swiftly, leaving his assistant in shock. Little did she know, with the media frenzy he'd experienced in his past life, this was nothing. Finding the truth in a newspaper is next to impossible.
The global economy was struggling. If you could stand tall during such a time, you'd naturally draw resentment. It's not too shabby, really. You see that the richest man isn't doing so great either.
Gold values plummeting, stocks taking a hit, and even Tesla -- the unicorn that had been selling like hotcakes -- was starting to roll out discounts.
...
"Honey, are you okay?"
"Pfft, it's all nonsense, Michelle. Your job now is to give me a healthy baby. As for those newspapers, well, you know, I've offended quite a few people."
"Is it that Australian guy again?"
"Pfft, not this time. Anyway, be good and don't worry too much. I'll be back after this film wraps up."
"Okay, just take care."
The latest news reports were, to put it bluntly, William White orchestrating the narrative himself. His security was top-notch; how could anyone get through?
As for the reasons, well, they said that a high wall invites crashing waves. He wasn't one to stand out at such a sensitive moment. Although it seemed unlucky, perhaps it wasn't all that bad.
William was enjoying himself, while those big conglomerates weren't inclined to kick him while he was down. They knew that if something did happen to him, it was impossible for him to behave as he was now.
When it came to losses, theirs were far worse. Without Japan funding them, they wouldn't have made it through.
As for William White, he could pocket hundreds of millions from just one film. Who else could compete with that kind of earning? Is this just a rhythm that makes them uncomfortable?
*****
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