posted on Jun, 9 2008 @ 03:04 PM
Professor Henderson said, “Are you familiar with the stories of John Titor, Aussie Bloke or Project Snowball?”
“Somewhat…I think their all hoaxes”
Skordallos grinned and flashed a 100 watt smile at the people surrounding the table and said, “You would be exactly right. May I introduce John
Titor to you over there,” as he pointed to the red-head, “Aussie Bloke here,” gesturing to the fat man, “Mr. Mohawk over there is cooking up
something new right now. An aerial drone saga complete with photos. We don’t know how that’s going to work since it involves visuals. An area we
haven’t strayed into until now. How’s that coming along by the way?” Skordallos asked in the general direction of the pierced boy.
The Mohawk dude did not look up from his phone but managed to acknowledge a thumbs up to Mr. Skordallos.
Skordallos turned in his chair to face Devon squarely, “Devon, do you know who owns our publishing company?”
“No, Excel Publishing is owned by not one but three major movie studios. That’s who you would be working for if you join us.”
“Why a publishing company all the way out here in Nashville? Why not just hire a professional, big name author to create these stories?”
“Oh they have, but we’re always looking for talent in all places.”
Devon felt the beginnings of a headache and asked,” Why not just write a work of fiction, publish it and then make the movie?”
Skordallos clapped and said loudly, “You see folks, I told you he would ask the right question. Devon, do you know anything at all about movie
“Of course not.”
Professor Henderson piped in, “Inspired. By. True. Events.”
“Excuse me?” Devon asked
“Do you know that little title that plays before a certain movie begins or in a preview trailer….. inspired by true events?” Skordallos asked
sipping his wine.
“Yes, I’ve seen it”
“My friend, that small, seemingly inconsequential title has been proven by market studies to draw in a 30% increase in ticket sales than if it were
not there. With luck, talent and a bunch of people that want to believe in something so badly, that’s what will happen with our stories. They will
be made into movies with that little profit boost that comes along with that title….inspired by true events.”
“But the stories you are putting on the net are not true,” Devon said exasperated.
“Ahhh…but they are inspired not based on. Aside from historical pieces, most movies made today with that title are all bull#. There are no
regulations in the movie industry that dictates how much of the film may be true. Truth, of course, is open to interpretation. We are the framers of
profit, son. A future investment with basically no overhead. We want you to join us.” Skordallos said as though he would say no more.
Devon rubbed his temples and said, “I don’t know about all of this. It’s a lot to take in. How do you know that someday I won’t tell someone
about all of this?”
Skordallos’ eyes narrowed a bit at the weight of the question, “Because you’ll be paid handsomely, sign a confidentiality agreement, and, of
course, our lawyers would eat you alive if you did. Further, to sweeten the pot, we’d be willing to offer you up to 3% of the back-end of the
film’s gross profit. Back-end profits are usually only reserved for A-list movie stars. The movie may go into production 5, 10 or 15 years from now.
That’s not my call. If you open your mouth, your 1% would…poof…vanish. That 1% could be extremely lucrative. It all depends on the originality,
popularity and buzz that your stories generate. Devon, it’s all there, just for the taking.”
Devon stared at him without blinking.
“You think about it and get back to me. Let’s order some dinner, shall we?”
After releasing the night nurse, Devon leaned against the door frame watching his mother sleep. He still had not gotten used to the sound of the
respirator and how it pushed her chest in and out so awkwardly. She would need to be turned in another position in two hours.
Devon moved to a chair beside the bed and sat down. Immediately, his mind began to tumble Skordallos’ offer over again as it had the whole ride
home. It was as though a prayer had been answered.
But at what cost to him?
Could he actually play upon people’s fears, hopes and need to feel that they have “special” knowledge unknown by the masses simply for financial
Devon noticed a lock of his mother’s auburn hair had fallen into her face. He arose and gently brushed it away. Devon suddenly realized she will no
longer be able to do that for herself. It’s funny how the most minuscule thoughts can crush your heart to dust. Devon walked to the kitchen and
retrieved his cell phone from his coat pocket. He punched Skordallos’ contact number. After the briefest of hesitation, he pressed the send button.
He had an answer for him.