Ethan was genuinely intrigued by what Steve Jobs had said.
He had never understood how Atari managed to dominate North America in an era when logistics were still underdeveloped.
After all, when Magnavox sued Atari, the court-approved sales volume of Pong was only about 8,000 units.
With numbers like that, becoming a nationwide phenomenon in any era was a bit of a fantasy.
But after tagging along with Steve Jobs' team for just one trip…
After collecting a merchant's fee, Jobs casually pulled two bags from the back of his car. One bag was stuffed with game circuit boards; the other held three metal stencils and a stack of spray paint cans.
Once the circuit board swap was done, Jobs got to work on the "cosmetics." First, he grabbed a can of white spray paint and blasted the cabinet — now running Snake Game — until it was evenly coated.
Then came the stencils: one shaped like a snake, the other like an apple. He fixed them to the machine and sprayed them in bright green and red. Beneath the artwork, he freehanded the words Snake Game.
For the finishing touch, he drew two eyes on the snake with a marker. Then, as if this wasn't already absurd enough, Jobs whipped out a bottle of odor-eliminating spray and doused the cabinet until it smelled like fresh apples.
There was no technical wizardry here — it was all pure theatrics.
"No… no… this is how you change a game motherboard?" Ethan stammered.
"Yes! Any problem with that?" Jobs grinned."And that's why we charge thirty dollars for the service — it's trouble."
Ethan had no words. But another thought crossed his mind.
"…Wait. That machine you just worked on… it didn't even look like an Atari cabinet."
Bingo. Ethan was right. It was clearly a racing game from another company.
Jobs didn't even flinch. "Exactly! That's why I like riding motorcycles." He winked, stuffed his "crime kit" back into the bag, and bolted.
"Let's go! The boss buying the game doesn't care where the machine came from — as long as it makes money. But the companies that sold those machines? Oh, they care. If they catch us, we'll get beaten up!"
"…???"
Ethan stood there, watching Jobs vanish into the distance.
He never thought selling a game would somehow come with a rush of adrenaline.
He was supposed to be in legitimate business. So why did Atari feel like a grey business?
......
Although Ethan felt that Atari's sales methods were far from conventional, he had to admit that in the "wilderness" era, such a wild approach really worked. In a time when America's logistics industry wasn't yet integrated by the Internet, a nimble and clever strategy could indeed allow a company to capture a huge market share in a short time.
Yes, friends and business partners might suffer from it—but that didn't seem to matter much, right? Because, as the saying goes, only friends and businessmen!
As for whether friends and business partners could do the same. well, before Magnavox filed its lawsuit, the whole industry was in an age of rampant copying. In those times, they could follow Atari's playbook.
But now? Things had changed. Just as Steve Jobs had said, whether they were owners of bars, or bowling alleys, they didn't actually care which company made their arcade machines—they only cared about one thing: money. A steady, constant flow of money!
"As long as it makes money, I don't care if it's from Atari or Magnavox—it's none of my business!"
That's why, unless competitors could come up with truly great games, they had no reason to encourage those bosses to "switch game."
And in this environment, the door-to-door circuit board replacement business seemed as gentle and irresistible as an angel's visit.
After showing Ethan around and satisfying his curiosity, Steve Jobs finally brought up the main topic:
"Ethan, what do you think of our door-to-door motherboard replacement business?"
"It's exciting," Ethan said between breaths after yet another hasty escape. "What's wrong?"
"You might get beaten up at any moment. This life is really interesting!"
Jobs grinned. "Then, can you do me a favor?"
"You say."
"In the coming days, I want you to join me on some replacement runs."
Ethan was puzzled, but Steve explained: "You might have noticed—our circuit board replacement service is perfect for cross-state sales. It only takes ten minutes to replace a machine's motherboard, or twenty if we add spray-painting.
Most stores have just a handful of machines, so it's no problem to cover an entire small city—or even a big one—in a single day.
And because it's so efficient, Nolan don't let regular employees like us handle it. Every trip, we carry at least a hundred circuit boards. Each one costs $150—that's $15,000 worth of stock right there. Sell them all and you're looking at $40,000 in revenue. That's a huge amount of money. Nolan doesn't take chances, so he always goes himself."
Ethan understood. In an era of underdeveloped communication, it was indeed risky for companies to let employees carry and collect such large amounts of money. Without strong oversight, it was impossible to rely purely on an employee's morality to safeguard the company's interests.
Companies either sold high-volume, low-value consumer goods—or they sold expensive, low-volume products. But nobody in their right mind would casually entrust high-value, low-volume items to employees without safeguards.
After all, there were two big risks: The employee might simply run off with the goods or money, The employee might claim huge "losses" that were impossible to verify, cutting into company profits.
After all, even in the Internet age, there are still "zero-dollar purchases." In business, when faced with absolute interests, only those who can secure greater benefits are able to restrain their own greed.
"So… this is the real reason you brought me here?" Ethan looked at Jobs with a smile.
"Yeah~" The long-haired hippie nodded. "Nolan said before that of the thirty-dollar cost for the board replacement service, only nine dollars is materials. The remaining twenty-one dollars is bonus."
"In the past, a team consisted of three people. That meant for every circuit board sold, each seller earned seven dollars."
"I want that money, so…" Jobs rubbed his hands together, making his intentions clear.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Do you need a lot of money?"
"Yeah~" Jobs nodded sincerely. "If I can, I want to make this money. I need it, my parents need it, and my little idea needs it."
Ethan studied him for a moment. Just as Jobs began to feel uneasy, Ethan finally broke into a smile.
He chuckled, patted Jobs on the shoulder, and said, "Okay. Anyway, I've got nothing to do at home. If you really need me, I'd be honored to help. My family taught me that the greatest satisfaction is giving satisfaction to others."
"Oh!—Yes!!!" Jobs was overjoyed. He threw his arms open and pulled Ethan into hug.
"Thank you! Thank you, my friend!"