America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

Chapter 235: Chapter 233: Old Bastard

The new week began, and Martin, having taken some time off, started his new job.

After a lengthy period of preliminary preparations, the "Infernal Affairs" crew was about to move into the filming stage.

Before heading to New York to shoot, Warner Bros. Company held a script meeting and a meet-and-greet for the creative team.

Early in the morning, in a room at the Burbank Hotel, Mene crawled up from the carpet, glanced at Ellen who was still bleeding from above and below, licked his slightly swollen lips which tasted both salty and bitter, and quickly spat out a few times before rushing to the bathroom to brush his teeth thoroughly.

Ten minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, gently patted Ellen's wrinkled face, and said, "Darling, you keep sleeping; I'm off to the crew."

Ellen, the casting director whose work with the crew had finished, opened her eyes with effort and pressed her hand onto Mene's mouth, "Baby, your skills here are amazing; I can't help myself."

Mene's mouth and tongue were numb, fearing another round, he quickly said, "I have a meeting at the crew today."

"I know," Ellen let go of him, too content to even think of getting up, "Considering your outstanding performance last night, I'll remind you and your boss; big crews are tough to navigate, especially in situations like yours, where direct audition rivals are still on the crew."

Mene asked, "Any advice?"

Instead of answering, Ellen said, "I'll wait for you here, come back tonight."

The thought of getting her back that evening made Mene's heart harden with resolve; he was going to make her beg for mercy, "I'll be here at seven sharp."

Ellen, unhurried, said, "Scorsese only has eyes for the Oscar statue right now, anyone who gets in the way of him chasing that award will become his enemy, so whatever happens on the set, don't interfere with the shooting or the work."

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She stretched lazily, "Besides Scorsese, Leonardo has the most say on the set; he recommended your boss before, so it wouldn't hurt to get cozy with Leonardo privately."

Mene nodded and said, "See you tonight."

Leaving the hotel, he drove to the Warner Bros. building and after waiting a while in the lobby, he spotted Martin and Bruce.

"Boss," Mene approached proactively.

Martin greeted him, "Let's go, we'll head up together."

While walking, Mene relayed Ellen's words to Martin.

Martin patted Mene's shoulder, "We aim to be kind wherever we go, to be good people, but being a good person doesn't mean being a pushover; when the bad guys do bad things, we need to be ready to knock them down hard."

Mene said, "Boss, I'll do as you say."

Martin and Mene entered the crew's meeting room together, where six or seven people were already seated around a long conference table.

The meeting room was a mess, with many items scattered across the floor and table.

A mini doll lay at the door, its key parts revealing half of a black cylindrical object, by it on the floor was a little ball tied up with a belt, and moving forward there was something resembling a black flowering whip.

Further in, there were at least a dozen different types of sex toys.

These made Martin subconsciously wonder if he had entered the wrong place, not Scorsese's crew but Jenna's.

Martin quickly shifted his attention from these items to the person seated at the head of the table on the left side.

By appearance alone, this man looked like a born villain.

Jack Nicholson!

From the looks of the others, Martin guessed that these toys were related to Nicholson.

He stepped past the mini doll and took a place at the right side of the conference table.

By the default rules of the crew, the first seat was certainly Leonardo's.

Martin could either sit in the second seat or where Jack Nicholson was currently sitting.

But he noticed a cushion on the second chair, a very common type.

Some people like to put a softer cushion on their office or conference chairs.

Glancing around, Martin saw no cushions on the other chairs.

Without any hesitation, he gave up the second chair, which implied a higher status within the crew, and sat in the third spot.

Mene took his place on the other side.

Jack Nicholson turned his head and flashed Martin a smile, much like the evil Joker character he once played.

Martin returned the smile but didn't say a word.

The two had no prior interactions.

In the following few minutes, other members of the crew started trickling in; most were surprised by the sex toys strewn about the floor, and the veterans naturally turned their gazes to Nicholson.

It was clear that Nicholson wasn't new to this kind of behavior.

Just then, Leonardo walked in and, seeing the mini doll, couldn't help laughing: "Is this a free giveaway or what?"

Martin greeted him, "Hey, Leo."

Leonardo nodded at him and said directly, "You did great; you've got Kate so happy, just be careful Sam doesn't come looking for a fight."

Martin knew he was referring to Sam Mendes and laughed, "Kate and I are just friends."

Just then, Matt Damon walked through the door, eyed the seats, and without hesitation, took the place in the second chair next to Leonardo.

As he sat down, the conversation between Martin and Leonardo petered out.

Matt greeted Leonardo, then turned to extend his right hand to Martin, "You've done something truly impressive."

Martin didn't bother to guess whether they were talking about the Burbank High incident or something else. He shook hands with Damon, and the all-purpose compliment immediately came out, "I'm your fan, a super fan, Bourne is so cool."

"You can't make it as Damon by being a plain honest man," Damon said, continuing Martin's train of thought, "as a fan, you've surpassed the stars you like."

Martin countered head on, "When a fan loves a star to the deepest extent, some things just happen naturally."

Damon burst into laughter, his smile as sincere as his looks.

Scorsese was the last to come in, looked at the specialty products scattered on the ground, and said, "Jack, you're at it again!"

Nicholson's laugh had a wicked edge, "Meetings are so boring. It's good to add a bit of fun."

Scorsese, knowing him for nearly thirty years, didn't mind much, pulled out a chair to sit down, and announced, "Let's begin the script reading."

Everyone took out their scripts and started reading seriously.

The assistant director turned on the projector, and as Scorsese explained the intricate relationships between the plot and the characters based on his own coursework, everyone listened attentively.

Just as Scorsese finished explaining and reached for his water bottle to take a drink, Nicholson suddenly pulled out a small remote control from his pants pocket and pressed it.

Pff—

The sound of flatulence filled the entire meeting room, loud and long-lasting.

The sound was closest to Martin and Leonardo, so they both turned their heads simultaneously to look at Matt Damon in the middle.

All eyes immediately followed Martin and Leonardo's gaze to Matt Damon.

As the flatulent sound faded, Matt Damon looked innocent, "It wasn't me."

Nicholson secretly pressed the remote control again.

Pff—

Another loud and long fart sound emerged from right under Matt Damon's bottom.

Everyone's face showed a peculiar expression.

Leonardo unconsciously moved back, trying to stay as far away from Damon as possible.

Matt Damon suddenly stood up, grabbed the cushion from his chair, and loudly demanded, "Who is it? Who's doing this?"

Several people sneakily glanced at Jack Nicholson.

Martin smiled at Nicholson; under normal circumstances, it would have been him sitting in Matt Damon's chair.

Unexpectedly, Nicholson took out the remote control, placed it on the table and chuckled, "I did it. Such meetings are dull and boring. You must find some amusement."

He looked at Matt Damon, "It's just a little prank, you won't hold it against an old man, right?"

Matt Damon threw the cushion on the conference table.

Nicholson, not waiting for Matt Damon to lose his temper, said to Martin's side, "Originally, my plan was to play a joke on the hero of Los Angeles... no, America. But the hero didn't take that seat and chose another."

Matt Damon turned to look at Martin, seeing his face full of surprise and innocence, he could only sit back down heavily on his chair.

Mene wanted to act, but Martin quietly held him back, his eyes turned to Nicholson and he nodded with a smile.

Nicholson didn't care at all; he had done too many similar things.

At this point, Scorsese had finished drinking water and said, "Jack, end your pranks here, and don't let them show up on set again."

Nicholson declared, "I promise!"

Martin realized that Scorsese had an obviously special relationship with that old rascal.

The script reading went smoothly afterward, as if everyone had forgotten the incident.

When the meeting ended and Scorsese had left, Matt Damon immediately stood up and walked out.

Martin ignored the others and approached Leonardo, "How about we go out for a drink one of these days?"

Leonardo brought up something else, "I heard from Kate that you organized an amazing themed party that even convinced that fussy old man, Wes Craven."

Martin nodded, "That's true."

Leonardo lowered his voice, "New York is a gathering place for supermodels. I plan to contact a few, rent a yacht or a mansion for a party. Can you help me plan it? The usual parties in our circle are boring to play at."

In Martin's mind, two plans automatically surfaced, one of which was the water gun party that Leonardo loved most.

But he thought again, knowing this guy liked that kind of thing and must have played it privately quite a bit.

He asked, "What level of models are we talking about?"

When it came to supermodels, Leonardo was quite confident, "Victoria's Secret Angels level. As long as I send out invitations, there will definitely be those willing to come."

Martin asked again, "Are they willing to cooperate?"

Leonardo was exceptionally arrogant in this regard, "Of course."

Martin agreed, "I'll give it some thought in the coming days."

Suddenly, a large head poked over; Jack Nicholson, the unpredictable fellow, leaned on the conference table, stretching his head out like a turtle: "Count me in on your scheme, you two scoundrels, or I'll call and report you guys!"

Martin eyed the old man whose appearance resembled a villain, completely unable to decipher him.

Nicholson snorted, "I just live spontaneously, doing whatever I want to do, unlike you guys, who wear masks on your faces every day."