The air in the conference room seemed to solidify.
The phone on the table, its screen lit up, displayed Alan Horn's name like a brand, scorching the retinas of every Disney executive.
Michael Eisner's face was extremely grim.
He had just learned from his assistant that people from Warner and Universal were frantically contacting John Lawrence. The pirates of the caribbean script, which they had dismissed as a joke, had become the hottest treasure in all of Hollywood within a mere ten minutes.
They, this group of people, had just been mocking an 'oracle' who could foresee the future.
Now, the phone of this 'oracle' was being blown up by their arch-rivals.
"John."
Eisner's voice was dry and hoarse; he tried to force a smile, but the muscles in his face were stiff and unresponsive.
"It seems you're very busy. Perhaps... we can conclude our meeting here today."
He turned to the other board members, his tone becoming indisputable.
"Gentlemen, regarding the project evaluations for the new quarter, we will discuss them another day. Meeting adjourned."
Soon, only John and Eisner remained in the vast conference room.
"Sit, John." Eisner personally poured John a glass of water, his posture extremely humble. "We... need to have a good talk."
John remained seated, motionless. He picked up his phone, glanced at the screen, then slowly pressed the reject button.
Alan Horn's call was disconnected.
Eisner's eye twitched.
"It seems Warner is very sincere," John said indifferently, as if speaking of something unrelated to him.
"They are just sharks smelling blood." Eisner sat back in his seat, hands clasped on the table. "John, we have been partners for many years. Disney is the most suitable place for this project."
"Is that so?" John leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Just twenty minutes ago, you all thought it was a joke, a cursed subject."
Eisner's face burned.
"That was a misunderstanding, John. You know, there are always some... old-fashioned people on the board; their thinking can't keep up with the times." He unhesitatingly pushed Larry Tillman out as a scapegoat.
"I need to see your sincerity, Michael," John said, no longer beating around the bush. "Not just a flimsy 'misunderstanding'."
Just then, John's phone vibrated again.
This time, it was a news push notification.
Breaking news from The Hollywood Reporter.
"Exclusive: Hollywood-Shocking 'Lawrence's Oracle' Is an Eleven-Year-Old Boy! His Father, John Lawrence, with a Mysterious Script, Triggers a Bidding War Among Major Studios!"
The news was out.
Faster than he had imagined.
Eisner's personal assistant also rushed in, handing him a tablet. Eisner only glanced at the title, and his face turned completely pale.
It was over.
Now the whole world knew.
They, Disney, had publicly rejected a script blessed by a "god."
If this script eventually fell into the hands of Warner or Universal and became a huge success, the Disney board would become the biggest laughingstock in the entire industry for the next decade.
Cold sweat beaded on Eisner's forehead.
He looked at John, his eyes no longer holding any probing, only naked pleading.
"John, name your price."
John stood up.
"I need to go home and discuss this with my... well, with my 'screenwriter'." He picked up the script from the table, turned, and walked towards the door. "Tomorrow morning, I will return with my conditions. I hope by then, you will have prepared enough sincerity."
He gave Eisner no room for negotiation.
Stepping out of the Disney headquarters building, the California sun was a bit dazzling. John got into his car, his heart still pounding.
He immediately dialed his home phone.
"Allen."
"Dad, you succeeded." On the other end of the line, Allen's voice was as calm as ever, as if everything was within his grasp.
"Yes, I succeeded." John let out a long breath. "But now... the media knows. Will this cause you trouble?"
"Trouble? No." Allen chuckled softly. "Dad, this isn't trouble; this is our biggest bargaining chip. Now, it's our turn to name our price."
John started the car, his hands on the steering wheel still trembling slightly.
"What do you want? Allen. Tell me everything you want."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the line.
"I don't want money, Dad."
Allen's voice suddenly became serious.
"Or rather, money isn't the most important thing. What I want is power."
"Power?"
"Yes. First, the acquisition price of the script: five million US dollars. This will be the highest transaction price for an original script in Hollywood history."
John gasped. Five million! This was an astronomical sum.
"Second, I want final cut. How the film is made must be decided by me."
"What?!" John almost slammed on the brakes. "Allen, that's impossible! Disney would never give final cut to a... a screenwriter whose background is unclear, let alone..."
Let alone you're just a child.
"They will," Allen interrupted him, "because they have no choice."
"Third, and most importantly," Allen's voice dropped a few decibels, "I want five percent of the pure profit from the film's global box office. Not net profit, but global box office."
John felt his brain had stopped thinking.
Five percent of the global box office!
If this movie really exploded as Allen said, with a global box office of five hundred million, or even a billion US dollars, what a terrifying fortune that would be!
This was no longer selling a script; this was robbery!
"Allen, this is too..."
"Dad. Please trust me. You just need to tell them these conditions, word for word. Don't change a single word."
"Remember, we are not asking; we are informing them."
After hanging up the phone, John looked at the endless stream of traffic ahead, speechless for a long time.
The next morning, at Disney headquarters.
It was the same conference room, but this time, the atmosphere was completely different.
Michael Eisner, with all of Disney Studios' senior executives, sat upright, as if awaiting judgment.
Larry Tillman was also there, sitting at the very end, head bowed, not daring to look at anyone.
John Lawrence appeared on time.
He gently pushed a document to the center of the table.
"These are my conditions."
Eisner took the document, and with just one glance, his pupils sharply contracted.
Five million US dollars for the script.
Final cut.
Five percent of the global box office as a share.
A collective gasp echoed in the conference room.
"John! Are you joking?!" A vice president couldn't help but exclaim. "Five percent of the global box office? Do you know what that means? That's more than the money given to the director and lead actors combined!"
"Final cut? That's even more absurd! We can't entrust a movie with a budget of hundreds of millions of dollars to a... screenwriter with an unknown background!"
John listened expressionlessly, not saying a word.
Only after they had all finished speaking did he slowly begin.
"These are my conditions. If you don't accept them, I'll leave now. I believe Warner, and Universal, will be very happy to accept these 'absurdities'."
He made a move to stand up.
"Wait!"
Eisner abruptly stood up.
His gaze swept over everyone present, his eyes cold.
"All of you, shut up!"
He stared intently at the document, his mind racing.
The risk was enormous.
But the reward was equally immeasurable.
If pirates of the caribbean truly succeeded, Disney would not only make a fortune but also prove to the world that they possessed the keenest eye in all of Hollywood. This project would become the most brilliant stroke in his, Michael Eisner's, career.
He would gamble!
"We agree."
Eisner said, enunciating each word, his voice trembling slightly.
"However, we have an additional condition." He looked at John. "We need to meet this genius screenwriter. We need to confirm that he has the ability to control this film."
John smiled.
He knew they would make this request.
"Of course."
He took out his phone, dialed Allen's number, and pressed the speakerphone button.
"Allen, the gentlemen from Disney want to talk to you."
On the other end of the line, a clear, calm, and slightly childish boy's voice came through.
"Mr. Eisner, hello. Regarding the casting of Captain Jack Sparrow, I have a suggestion. What do you think of Johnny Depp?"