Chapter 312: Chapter 312: Conan (1)
[General POV]
Three days before Christmas, the production crew at Entertain worked diligently to build an interview set for Edward's talk show. The host, Conan O'Brien, wore a puzzled expression as he spoke with Pepper.
"So, instead of a prepared question, I can ask him whatever I want?" Conan narrowed his eyes slightly, leaning forward in confusion.
Pepper chuckled, replying, "Yeah. Ed said it'll be fine. We can always edit out anything too personal, so you don't have to worry about that."
Conan smirked, "Yes! The billionaire's support for the studio budget—something a public network will never have. Can we have caviar or a lobster menu instead of chicken wings?"
Pepper responded casually, "Okay, I'll get you some."
"I was just joking." Conan's astonishment turned into excitement.
As Pepper set up the stage, taking suggestions from Conan, Edward sat in a small room with Taylor.
Taylor paced back and forth behind the couch, shaking her hands nervously in a self-soothing manner. Edward flipped through a script, humming casually.
Suddenly, Taylor snapped at him, her head whipping around almost 90 degrees. She winced in pain. "How are you so calm—Oww—... Bitch..."
"Did you just call me a bitch?" Edward looked up, astonished.
"Owww~" she whined, sitting beside him and massaging her neck while shooting him a glare.
"We're going public without adequate preparation! You're fine with it, but I don't have improv experience!" she scolded.
Edward waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine. You're going to do great."
"I don't think any celebrity has done this!" she fretted. Edward placed the script down and beckoned her to sit closer.
He began to massage her neck and shoulder, saying, "Actually, there have been a lot. You don't remember because there's not much to recall. Once they confirm it on air, people lose interest after they get their fair share of drama."
Just then, Harvey entered the room without knocking. She paused, confused at the sight of Edward massaging Taylor.
"What happened? Were you guys boxing in here? Do you need to file a lawsuit?" she teased.
Edward scoffed. "She did this to herself. I had no part in it. Also, Harvey, we need to produce this, too."
Harvey raised an eyebrow as she approached the couch. "Again? This is the tenth movie you've approved this week alone."
Edward nodded slightly. "I can't help it. They write great stuff."
To become a scriptwriter in Hollywood, luck and connections are crucial. However, Edward expanded his search beyond the city, attracting talented writers who had never had the opportunity to showcase their work.
Entertain needed its own content. The movies wouldn't be produced all at once but over the span of six months.
"Especially this one: Psychopath Diary. I love it." Edward grinned as he pointed to the script. The thick, 500 pages script on the table.
"The witness to a murder scene runs off with the killer's diary, and after getting hit by a car while trying to escape, he suffers from amnesia. When he wakes up, he mistakenly believes the diary is his. I love the internal struggle between the man he is and the man the diary makes him out to be," he added.
Edward thought he had seen a similar show before, but he couldn't recall the details.
"If the story is that good, then why hasn't any producer picked it up?" Taylor asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.
"Because it already has an ending. The plot is too expansive for a movie but too contained to stretch out over multiple seasons," Edward replied casually.
Stories like Chernobyl, Queen's Bandit, which have a short amount of episodes, become a huge success in the future. Edward believed that he should never underestimate the consumer's thirst for quality content– which he aimed to make.
Noticing Edward's enthusiasm for the script, Harvey asked, "Ed, do you want to play this role?"
"I mean, I do, but it would have to be filmed in London due to the gun control laws to make the story credible. If this were shot in America, it'd end within an episode," Edward chuckled, imagining the psychopath murderer being taken out with a gun bought at Walmart.
"And honestly, I don't have the time to commit to it in the next two years," he shrugged, masking behind his disappointment with a poker face. Suddenly, Edward turned to Harvey, "By the way, why are you here?"
"Ah, I talked with some friends about the capital gain tax. Take a low interest loan. Since the revenue pays for the project and then some meaning you grow your assets and can take even bigger loans and debt isn't taxable. That's how rich people do it. Or you can pay a quarter billion dollars as capital gain tax."
Flabbergasted, Edward turned to Harvey with disbelief, "Pay the quarter billion?-- Do you even know me? Use the LOOPHOLE! "
"Got it." Harvey winked, pointing her finger at Edward snappily at the same time before she walked away.
...
200 people were brought into the studio as the live audience for today's shoot. Conan was already ready at his host's table, greeting the audience before finally welcoming the guest.
The camera started rolling as Conan began.
"Welcome to a very special episode of 'Hot Ones,' where the wings are hot, and the guests are even hotter!" Conan said with a playful grin. "As you can see, even though this is set up like a late-night show, there's a bucket of chicken on the table in front of me, making it an eating show instead." He added with a sly side-eye. "A loophole!"
The audience chuckled, aware of Conan's recent ban on late-night shows after parting ways with NBC.
The audience erupted in laughter, and Conan joined in trashing the network, "Look what you did, NBC!"
Edward suddenly turned serious and looked at Conan, "Wait. Didn't you sign a contract that prevents you from talking smack about the network?"
"I'm not talking smack. I'm just asking them some sincere questions," Conan quickly deflected with a sly grin. He turned to Edward and added, "I'm impressed you even know about that."
"Nosy is one of my prominent traits," Edward replied, prompting chuckles from some audience members.
Conan seized the moment and said, "You have a lot of traits. One of them is heroic. Can we talk about what happened at that time now, or should we wait until the finale?"
"Let's test your luck. If you get a mild one, we'll wait for the finale. If you're going to suffer, then we can dive in now," Edward replied, subtly nudging Conan to eat the chicken first before asking his question.
Conan groaned in dissatisfaction, staring into the bucket bowl. "Eghhh..." he scowled, prompting laughter from the audience. "You're making me wish for torture while acting like it's a sweet deal. You're like the devil!" he remarked, eyeing Edward.
Edward smiled innocently. "Of course, you can choose not to do it."
"I'LL DO IT!" Conan declared, grabbing another wing. After taking a nibble, he smacked his lips a few times. "Oh, this one's one of the milder ones. So we'll wait for the finale."
As he inhaled sharply from the spiciness, Conan asked, "In your Instagram feed, there are a lot of pictures of your cat. Are you only a cat lover?"
Edward smirked. "That's a really mild question. Yeah, I love cats. But I also adore all kinds of animals."
He proceeded to share stories about his family dog on the ranch, as well as Ace, his panther. He recounted how he met Vader after fleeing from a paparazzi and discovering Vader rummaging through the trash for food.
As the audience got a glimpse into Edward's personal life and saw how genuine he was being, their admiration for him grew.
The next question was also mild, where Edward talked to Conan about his VMA award. Conan expressed regret for not inviting Edward to his show, but he defended himself by saying he didn't think Edward would come. They acted out what could have been, leaving the audience feeling a bit melancholic.
While the interview continued, executives from TBS suddenly approached the company with an offer. Renaldo whispered to Pepper hurriedly, "TBS wants to buy the rights to broadcast this interview."
"For how much?" Pepper asked, intrigued.
"Twenty million dollars," Renaldo replied, his voice slightly shaky, clearly surprised by the high offer. Pepper smirked and muttered, "Eddy really understands this industry. He played them like a fiddle."
Among the audience, a few industry 'plants' from major cable networks were present, eager to see how the interview would unfold. However, witnessing the audience's reaction and experiencing the fun of the interview firsthand convinced them that the money would be well spent.
With Edward's exclusive interview drawing immense interest, several major cable networks were vying for the rights to broadcast it. TBS, Comedy Central, MTV, VH1, E!, CNN, FX, and A&E all recognized the potential for high viewership and buzz.
What started as a million-dollar offer quickly snowballed to twenty million, the maximum a cable network would pay for this kind of interview in 2009. It was an 'insider' story about what really happened at that time and why his house was targeted by a missile—how he escaped death itself.
Not only that, but many producers were also interested in securing the rights to his story for potential movie adaptations.
"Although there's this big story we're all dying to know about, there's something else too," Conan slowly led into the question. "In the first and second weeks of November, you and your friend Taylor S. both released singles, and the lyrics matched up with each other."
The audience was intrigued as they remembered that, and the interest from the cable TV representatives grew more and more.
"But neither of you spoke up about it. Usually, people talk, but you guys have kept mum. What happened there?" Conan pressed on. "And remember, you promised to be honest."
Edward pretended to be a little helpless and uncomfortable. As he adjusted his seating, he let out a beleaguered sigh and told Conan, "That's actually quite a sad story."
The crowd exclaimed, "Uuuuu," as they highly anticipated the answer.
"I wanted to sympathize, but right now, I feel like I can hear my own brain waves moving around." Conan said, with a reddish face as he got another extremely hot chicken wing. "I cannot drink the milk, but can I just dip my tongue in cold water?"
"Yeah, I can excuse that." Edward said. A staff member quickly ran into the set, placing a tall glass of water on Conan's table. Conan dipped his tongue in that water and glanced at Edward, "Continue."
The audience laughed and Edward advised Conan, "Why don't you keep an ice cube inside your mouth."
"You're trying to trick me. Once I drink that melted ice, you'll nullify the question. I can see through your trick, you sadist." Conan accused him. Edward smirked and said, "I said milk. Not water."
"WAIT! DAMN IT!" Conan exclaimed as he quickly downed a glass of water, glaring at Edward in frustration. "I could've done that from the start!" He finished the entire glass in one go.
Edward chuckled and replied, "It's not my fault you didn't think of it."
"God! Why am I being punished like this?" Conan lamented, before turning to the camera again. "Why'd you do that, NBC?"
Edward joined in, "Why'd you make him suffer, NBC?"
The two exchanged amused glances and chuckled together. Conan said, "Are you trying to avoid answering the question?"
"I'll answer it, I'll answer it. Jeez," Edward groaned.
"But before I do, I'd like to ask for a lifeline," Edward said, eliciting laughter from the audience. To their surprise, he suddenly turned to the side and called out, "Taylor, do you want to come out here so we can talk about this together?"
Moments later, Taylor S. stepped onto the stage, her presence instantly lighting up the room. The crowd gasped and applauded enthusiastically. Wearing a simple yellow dress and with her blonde hair curled into locks, Taylor waved to everyone before sitting next to Edward.
Conan pretended to be surprised as well, shouting, "What?!" multiple times, exaggerating his shock as if his mind had been blown.
Renaldo whispered to Pepper again, "They offered 25 million now."
"If they knew what'll happen later, I wonder if they would still offer the same amount." Pepper waved his paper fan and laughed deviously.