Chapter 18 – The Pitch

Strung up with twinkling lights, the wooden gazebo in the villa's backyard was a soft beacon in the night. Buster and Gunter took advantage of the mild weather to do some more tweaking on the Out of This World screenplay, but as the night drew on, the air got a bit nippy, which brought on a set of blankets and some piping hot tea, courtesy of Miss Crawly.

"This is nice," Buster said after taking a sip of his tea. "I haven't written under the moonlight like this since college."

"Jah," Gunter agreed. "Working on ze space musical while under ze stars makes me, like, feel closer to ze story!"

"I hadn't considered that. Maybe that's why I'm feeling extra productive tonight."

Once they got back to work, Gunter threw an occasional glance in Buster's direction, but each went unnoticed. Keeping his mouth shut was a new sensation for him and he wasn't too fond of it.

"What happens next?"

Buster peered over at Gunter's laptop. "What do you mean? Did you lose your place?"

"What happens... when ze show is over?"

"Oh! Well, I guess... the competition officially starts and it's full speed ahead. Well, not until I finish the script. It's barely a draft at this point. Needs much more work."

"Jah?"

"And then we pick the right scene before staging full production. There's a lot to be considered like the timetable we'll be given, what kind of sets we'll have, music choice... oh, and I'll have to see if Klaus wants to return to do the choreo."

"Jah..." Gunter stretched and let out a mighty yawn. He closed his laptop and said, "I should be sleeping."

"What? Already?"

"Like, big day tomorrow, no? Pitch meeting with Mr. Crystal."

"Yes, I didn't forget. It's just..." Buster reached out and squeezed Gunter's shoulder, "You're about to enter the world of television. It can feel cold, lonely, and cutthroat. You're probably thinking, 'But Mr. Crystal will be there.' That's true, but with Mr. Crystal, it's always The Crystal Show in his head, and even though he's trying to get his act together, there may not be enough room for you or anyone else on his stage." His eyes glimmered under the lights as he adjusted his tune. "Regardless, no matter what happens tomorrow, I want you to remember you always have a place in this troupe."

Besides a nervous, involuntary giggle, Gunter wasn't quite sure how to respond. That wasn't the endless supply of optimism he was used to. There was something almost foreboding there, less a warning and more an expectation. At a loss for how exactly to reply, Gunter simply nodded. He tried to get up, but Buster held his grip.

"Just one more thing," Buster added with a sheepish chuckle. "Could you, uh... could you tell me the cannibal story?"

Jimmy was starting to regret leaving his Rolex at home.

The wolf was very meticulous about presenting himself to the Echelon Studios executives. He wore one of his crispest suits along with a tie that was a bold, shimmering blue in color. Couldn't look like a slob after all. It was the personal accessories he cut back on. Echelon was a third-rate producer of entertainment at best; it was never in the same conversation as Crystal Entertainment, and the last thing Jimmy wanted to do was remind them of the riches he acquired defeating and dominating competition like them. He wasn't quite accustomed to placating other egos, but he had some idea from his own life experiences.

But now he was looking at his empty wrist, again, to see how much time had passed in the meeting with Gunter nowhere to be found. His phone would have to do, and as he checked it, he grimaced at the fact that he'd been spinning his wheels in this meeting for thirty minutes. Then, becoming aware of his surroundings again, Jimmy swapped his grimace with a smile that he aimed at the three Echelon Studios executives—an elk, a weasel, and a giraffe—seated across the table. They did not react.

"Call him again, will ya?" Jimmy growled to Jerry in the seat next to him.

"On it, sir!" Jerry replied, scampering out of the conference room with his phone in his grip. Three pairs of eyes watched the feline in silence as he left.

The conference room had a clinical sterility to it. The two farthest walls on the end were made entirely of glass, one looking out over the glittering city while the other faced a hallway. On the wall behind the executives was a monitor with the Echelon Studios logo idly spinning. Outside of the table, chairs, and a fake plant, there wasn't much of note. If Jimmy didn't know any better, he'd think they were quarantining him.

Mr. Satler, the elk, suddenly spoke up, "Mr. Crystal, I'd like to ask why you chose Echelon Studios over Crystal Entertainment."

"It's a new day," Jimmy said. "I've been broadening my horizons, trying new things. Embracing change!"

"Is it because you don't want to work with a company that had a front row seat to your criminal behavior?" Mrs. Perez, the weasel, asked, soliciting a quick but wary glance from Satler. Jimmy had a feeling she would be a problem.

"I'm no damn criminal!"

"You did have that several-months-stint in jail," she responded.

"The charges were dropped!"

"Not interested in the charges, I'm interested in the actions that brought them."

The long neck of Mr. Fulton, the giraffe, swept over the table as if usurping command from his two partners before settling at a hover over Jimmy. The wolf felt like a child as the giraffe literally looked down on him while speaking. It was pissing him off, but so was everything else about this meeting. Jimmy did his best to keep his cool.

"I'm going to be blunt with you, Mr. Crystal. You have a reputation that's problematic at best," Fulton droned. "However, this is an industry that's willing to give you leeway in proportion to how much money you can generate for all parties involved. A few years ago, you simply walking into this room would have been enough to greenlight the project, but we're going to need some assurances to assuage our fears of another incident like the one reported between you and the koala. You mention this creative specialist of yours and we've yet to hear from him. The reward has to outweigh the risk. You understand this, yes?"

"Gunter's been working on this pitch with me for weeks. Trust me, he's coming," Jimmy said. Jerry slipped back into the conference room with a reluctant shake of his head. Jimmy strained a smile. "He's practically a creative genius. Out of This World? That was all his idea!"

Satler's antlers tilted at an angle with his head, one eyebrow raised as he said, "The stage musical you publicly denounced as a fraud scheme against you?"

"The way the show came about wasn't great, but creatively it's solid. Gunter came up with that in a week. Imagine what he can do with more time!" Jimmy loosened his tie. Did someone turn up the heat in here? "Look, he's quirky, he's got a funny accent, and he dresses like a disco ball that came to life, but he's worth it. Wait until you meet him."

Perez jotted something down in the small notebook in front of her. Somehow, every stroke of her pen came across as more aggressive and judgmental than Maxine's ever did.

She let out an exaggerated sigh. "So this pig... is he in the room with us right now?"

Jimmy nearly did a double take as the implication set in. "What did you just say to me?"

The incoming firestorm was interrupted when the door flew open and Porsha burst in with all her infectious energy.

"Hey everybody, I'm here!" she sang. Other than her father shouting her name in relief, her entrance had no effect. Whatever positivity she carried with her was snuffed out by the oppressive atmosphere of the room and some of the coldest eyes she'd ever felt.

"Is Gunter with you?" Jimmy asked her.

"Wait, he's not here already?" She scanned the room and realized the flamboyant pig was nowhere to be found. No wonder the room was so drab.

"You didn't see him? You live in the same house!"

"He was already gone when I woke up. I thought he got an early start."

Satler cleared his throat to get the wolves' attention. Porsha could practically see the power struggle between her dad and the executives, the only barrier between them being the table. But without Gunter's creative juice, her dad was treading water.

Porsha took the seat next to her father and said, "I remember some of the stuff Gunter came up with. Everybody picture this: My dad at space camp!"

Perez slammed her notebook shut.

"I don't know what kind of pathetic charade this is but we're busy people," Perez snapped. "Some of us still work at influential companies."

Satler seemed to bit more sympathetic, but still out of patience. "Mr. Crystal, I know you're not used to being on this side of a pitch meeting, but next time have your affairs in order before you come here and waste everyone's time."

"If this pig ever manifests, maybe you can get back to us. Maybe," Perez added with acidic sarcasm.

"Good day, Mr. Crystal."

"I'm gonna wring his thick neck!"

"No, Daddy, you won't," Porsha said, watching her dad pace a groove into the floor of the hallway outside the conference room. She tried calling the pig one more time. "C'mon, Gunter. Pick up."

"He sabotaged the meeting!" Jimmy complained.

Porsha bit her lip when the call went to voice mail. "We don't know what happened to him. What if he's in trouble?"

"The only way I don't wring his neck is if someone beat me to it!"

"Daddy, please," Porsha said, giving an embarrassed smile to the Echelon employees that crept by them.

"What are you looking at!?" Jimmy yelled. "This ain't a sideshow!" The employees practically fled down the hallway.

"Sir, remember what you learned in therapy," Jerry pleaded.

Jimmy growled and reluctantly began to chant, "I can't always control my circumstances but I can control how I respond to them."

Porsha looked up from her phone. "Uh, what?"

"It's my mantra from therapy," Jimmy said. "It keeps me calm."

"Is it working?"

"Ask me again the next time I see that side of bacon."

Jimmy's pacing expanded to a wider radius, passing the glass wall of the conference room and spotting the three executives huddled together discussing something, him most likely. Perez looked up, locking eyes with him. The weasel lifted a black clicker while wrinkling her snout, pressed a button, and vanished as the glass went opaque.

Jimmy had two distinct thoughts at that moment:

That was extremely rude.

And he'd need to install that glass in his next office, wherever that may be.

"Omigosh, Gunter, finally!" Porsha yelled into the phone. "What happened? Where are you?"

Jimmy was suddenly looming over her like a solar eclipse. "You tell him he'll never work in this city again!"

"Don't you want to know what happened to him?"

"Fine. Let him explain why he failed, then tell him he'll never work in this city again!"

"Daddy, enough!"

Jimmy huffed quietly but didn't back off.

"Gunter, wait, you're not making any sense. Why are you telling me about your feet? No, the meeting's over. How did it go?" She threw a cautious glance in her father's direction. "Uhh... meet us at the theater, then we can talk about it and... maybe what happens next?" She hung up the phone before Jimmy could snatch it from her.

"What happens next? What happens next!?" Jimmy repeated incredulously.

"If they don't want us here then we pitch to another studio, right?"

"You really think I'm doing this again with him after what he pulled?"

"We still don't know what happened. Just hear him out first, okay?"

Whatever Jimmy growled in response was unintelligible, but Porsha prayed it was in agreement.

A/N

Broke this chapter in half (for my own sanity). What happened to Gunter? Will Jimmy keep his cool?