Chapter 5 – High-Priced Toilet Paper or a Movie Script?
The next morning, Bruce headed down to Central Perk and ordered coffee and a pastry.
In his backpack was the script for Inglourious Basterds.
He had a ten o'clock meeting with Estelle. Thanks to Joey's introduction, she'd agreed to see him.
When his order arrived, Bruce realized the server was Rachel.
"Hey, Rachel!"
"Hey, Bruce!"
"So you're working here now?"
Rachel beamed. "Yep! Step one of my new life—get a job!"
"That's great. Congrats on the fresh start."
"Thanks!" Rachel glanced at his backpack. "Heading to work?"
"Meeting with Joey's agent, actually. If things go well, she might take me on."
"You don't have an agent already?"
"I have one, but he only deals with... you know, the adult film industry. My next scripts are going to be the kind families can actually watch together."
Rachel nodded. "Got it. Well, good luck! I hope she signs you."
Bruce smiled. "Thanks. I'll need it. If you stacked every script written in America this month, the pile would be tall enough for a desperate writer to jump off of. I need all the luck I can get for mine to stand out."
Rachel wasn't sure how to respond to that. "Well... still, good luck!"
Estelle's office was in an aging building on Madison Avenue.
She was smoking when Bruce knocked on the open door.
"You the guy Joey told me about?" she asked without looking up.
"Hi, Estelle. I'm Bruce White. Thanks for making time to see me."
Estelle squinted at him through the smoke. "So what are you thinking, kid?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Your adult stuff sells. You've got a steady income there. Why switch to mainstream?"
"It's what I've always wanted to do—tell stories that matter, stories people can actually talk about. The adult work was just to pay the bills."
Estelle burst out laughing and nearly dropped her cigarette.
Bruce felt his face flush. "I'm serious."
She stubbed out the cigarette, lit another one, and took a long drag. "Here's some free advice: until your 'important stories' actually make money, don't tell anyone about your dreams. You'll sound like an idiot."
"Fair enough. So will you read my script?"
He pulled it from his backpack.
Estelle took it. "Or just tell people you dream of writing porn—at least yours actually makes money. Nothing wrong with adult entertainment. I told Joey he'd be perfect for it. By now he could own a studio and be the star."
Bruce frowned. "You actually told your own client to do porn?"
Estelle shrugged. "It was a compliment. Most guys don't have what it takes."
Bruce stayed quiet while she read.
By the time Estelle finished skimming the script, Bruce had gone through two cups of coffee from the receptionist's pot.
She closed it, set it on her desk, and stared at him for a long moment.
Under the gaze of the fifty-something agent, Bruce shifted uncomfortably. "So... what do you think?"
"Wow, Bruce. You sound like a kid fresh out of film school, but this story is wild. Like if you threw The Dirty Dozen into a blender with Tarantino and a shot of tequila. Addictive."
"So can you find a studio willing to make it?"
"Wrong question. You should ask whether I can sell this script. After it's sold, don't worry about whether some studio exec uses it as expensive toilet paper or turns it into a movie."
Bruce leaned forward. "Wait—is there actually a chance it becomes some executive's high-priced bathroom reading?"
Estelle laughed. "I don't usually put it that way, but yeah, there's always that risk. I'll call you when I have news."
"So you're willing to represent me?"
"Yeah, kid. But don't get too excited. As long as you can write scripts this good, agents all over this city will fight to sign you."
She pulled a contract from her desk drawer. "My commission is fifteen percent of each script sale, dropping to ten percent starting with your fourth sale. Look it over. If everything's good, sign."
Bruce scanned the contract and signed.
He left his phone number and walked out feeling lighter than he had in weeks.
Bruce got off the bus near his building and was about to head upstairs when he spotted familiar faces through Central Perk's window.
He walked in, greeted everyone, ordered coffee, and settled onto the couch.
Ross looked miserable.
"You okay, man?" Bruce asked.
Joey answered for him. "Ross's childhood dog, Chi-Chi, died."
Bruce blinked. "Wait, that dog lived an incredible life. Thirty years? Can dogs even—"
"No," Joey interrupted. "Chi-Chi died when Ross was a kid. His parents just told him they sent her to a farm. He only found out the truth today."
Bruce turned to Ross. "Hey, look at it this way—grown-up you is carrying the sadness for little-kid you. Little-kid you would probably thank you for that."
Ross's expression softened. "You know what? That actually helps. Thanks, Bruce."
Joey turned to Bruce. "So where were you coming from?"
"Estelle's office. Remember? You set up the meeting."
Recognition dawned on Joey's face. "Oh, right! How'd it go?"
"She kept my script. Said there's a good chance she can sell it and she'll call me when there's news."
"Wow, look at you! Estelle approved on day one. I approve too. Maybe we'll work together someday—get me a role in one of your scripts!"
"Joey, I really appreciate you introducing me to her. If I ever get the power to cast my own films, I'll definitely hook you up with a good part."
Chandler smirked. "With your reputation in adult cinema, you could probably cast Joey as a clerk in your next masterpiece, Crazy Clerk #69, right, Clint Hardwood?"
Bruce's eyes widened. "How do you know my pen name and my next project?"
"The latest issue of Hustler announced the production of Crazy Clerk #69. Same crew from Interview with the Vampire: The Wrong Bite—director whoever, cast whoever, and screenwriter Clint Hardwood. That's you."
Bruce groaned. "I can't believe you actually read the credits in those magazines. Who besides you even cares who writes porn?"
Joey perked up. "Wait, your name's in Hustler? Bruce, you continue to surprise me. Sounds like you really could cast me in an adult film!"
"Joey, if you actually wanted to do adult films, you wouldn't need my help. Even Estelle said you'd be perfect for it. And before you get offended—she meant it as a compliment."
Joey laughed. "I know exactly what she meant. How do you think I attract so many women? But I'd never go that route. I'm going to be a real actor—a great one."