The table was set:
The room is empty except for the four men sitting in chairs.
They were all sober.
They had to be.
This was going to be the business deal of a lifetime...
At least in the short annals that comprise the history of Fenwick.
In other words, It was going to be an important deal for the four men - and not so much for everyone else.
In fact for three of the four men in that room the success of this deal was literally going to be a matter of life and death...
So the game proceeded, and the man at the head of the table proceeded to start things by being the first one to speak. Addressing the man at the far side of the table he began:
'My name is Jim. You know me. No introduction is needed. This gentleman to the right of me is my business partner Butch. This man to the left of me is a man called Rod, and he is an investor in our business and a fine man to boot. In the coming months when I hope we will be working together, you will discover that we are all very fine men. And trustworthy too! We love our product and we want to share it with the world. And we want to make money, of course, what human doesn't. It's what we do, isn't it? Make money. We make money to live. And we need to live right? That is the whole goal of life, are we all agreed? Yes? Yes! Very good. Now Mr King, from what I know about you, you are what they call a quick-fire guy. You are a successful businessman who just wants to get on with things. No messing around. No flowery words. Just business and money, and business. Am I right?'
'Well you seem to have whittled me down to a T, in that I do love talking about Money! But I don't know about you referring me to this quickfire type of guy, sort of makes me sound like a cowboy!' Mr King replied.
Jim sensed that the man was only joking. Jokes were good. The man was in good humour. Excellent! They were all complete strangers but they seemed to be getting on really well so far. Brilliant stuff.
Jim felt that things were going well so far, and to think they had only been in the room for ten minutes give or take...
Jim was so enthusiastic. He really felt he was born to be in this game, for some reason. He knew he was being delusional by thinking in such a way, but he decided after ten minutes of talking and joking with Mr King in the backroom of the Short Tailed Fox that he was literally in love with delusional, and was more than content to stay that way for the foreseeable future.
Being delusional about yourself was a far better state of mind than being depressed - and the state of being depressed was all that Jim had ever known up until that point in his life.
'That is one damn fine drink you and your friends have come up with,' Mr King continued. 'Are you guys savants? I am being serious here! I have never heard of you before, and yet you cook up this fine drink. I mean, I think I prefer this G-Juice stuff of yours more than whiskey. And I don't say that lightly, my fellows, for my family has a historical penchant towards a drop of the old bourbon. But this G-Juice, darn! It really hits the spot - 'and he thumped his chest once as he said that. 'It's one cracker of a drink, excuse my language but it is a killer poison like nothing else.'
'O I hear you quite well, Mr King,' Jim replied. 'We agree with everything you say. It's a killer product for sure.'
'Dare I ask what's in it? I mean my business is all about catering and drink, but I have never tasted anything like your stuff before. Honestly I mean that with all my heart. I don't know if its fruit, wheat, vegetables? Seriously. Is it carbonated flavourings? But you put something in it that gives a real punch, and the feeling it gives you afterwards, I mean... what can I say? It feels better than getting drunk - it's a better kind of high than that. There is something natural about it. It feels organic. But there is nothing natural about the hangover afterwards! Damn! Got to be one of the worst. I would say it might put people off buying the stuff- but nah! People love getting drunk, and I think that special sort of high that G-Juice gives you will see people separating with their cash quick-time. Like I said a second ago, I know this business, and I know your drink is good. Real good!'
'Thank you for all the compliments! Yes, it's a family recipe... goes back generations. My great great aunt concocted the original recipe. According to family lore she grabbed the ingredients while being chased by bandits along the old London Road. She was a brilliant chief, had a good understand for taste and texture, and she was a master herbalist! She knew every leaf, fungus and root! Back then she knew she was working on something Great, she didn't know how great, of course, but she knew her work was going to be real good. A life's work in fact! She was holding the perfect ingredients just when the bandits decided to attack! She made a run for it, and when she got back home she got her bow and arrow and shot them, the fiends! The recipe then past into the hands of her son, my great uncle Jimmy. He carried the recipe with him through the trenches of world war one! He was one of those poor fellows to be born at the wrong time, right at the turn of the century, so the poor soul ended up being conscripted into both world wars! In 1940 the Germans were after the recipe. The high command had sampled some of the juice after the gestapo rumbled my uncle's secret stash after the fall of Paris. He had been brewing G-Juice with the help of his merry French compatriots. Now there was a real risk that G-Juice would fall into the hands of the Third Reich! The rebel alliance of French and Dutch decided that this could not happen, and they rallied behind my fine uncle, and sabotaged the train that was taken the G-Juice back to Berlin. In 1943 my uncle was kidnapped by the gestapo after trying to defend a French village from SS attack. They tortured him for the recipe! After the gestapo and tied him up by his arms and set fire to his feet my uncle gave in and surrendered the recipe to the fiends! The monsters were going to take the secrets of the recipe back to Hitler himself! Now I know it is well known that Hitler was a teetotaller, but that is all fairy fluff! Hitler was a ravenous drunk, and he wanted G-Juice more than he wanted control over the world! It is said that the reason why he failed to take Stalingrad was because he was too drunk to give the orders to evacuate his men so that they could fight again another day!
'Anyway. It looked like the recipe was lost, and the Germans were going to have their way with it! But then my uncle launched a rescue mission! It was 1944, the aftermath of D Day, and my uncle was able to convince a couple of random American GI's of the glory of his drink, and they decided they wanted a bit of the action. With the help of the GI's my uncle raided a high ranking German stronghold, Castle Staffenstein, a mighty German Fortress standing a hundred miles north of the neutral border with Switzerland. The castle was controlled by the evil German Lord Von Hestler, and one of Hitler's closest confidants. It was said that Von Hestler was on the verge of brewing his own special batch of G-Juice that would have revolutionised alcohol consumption in the world, and also changed the course of the war, because German scientists discovered that G-Juice could power not only tanks but rockets! That's right! The pesky Von Hestler had constructed a thousand rockets powered by G-Juice ready to be dispatched to the front to be used to halt the Allied advance on Germany! But my uncle and his friends rustled them pesky Germans, and saved the G-Juice recipe once and for all!'
'Amen to him!' King replied. He was very impressed by Jim's ridiculous story. 'So the recipe has been passed down through three generations?'
'Some say it's older than that!' Jim waffled on. He thought he might as well keep the moment up, keep King baffled and bewildered in order to disarm his senses and make him more susceptible to a business deal that would be beneficial to Jim and his company.
'Second era tradition says that Robin Hood himself enjoyed G-Juice! And if you think that sounds mad, there's a story going about that tells of the Roman legions drinking the stuff at Hadrian's Wall! That's why they never pushed all the way north, you see, because they were as drunk as they were powerful.'
'Damn! So you are saying that G-Juice is over a thousand years old? And your family has held onto the recipe for that long, eh? Why did it take so long to get the drink out into the public then? I mean, why have you just decided to build a business right now? I mean, according to your story Germany lost the war because of this drink. Let me guess, Jim... You just wanted to hog it to yourself, right! You pigs!'
'That's it in a nutshell!' Jim replied. 'But we are ready to share the taste with the world, finally. Yes. I think the time has come to do that!'
'But you don't feel like sharing the recipe?'
'Out of respect to the family I feel I need to keep the recipe a secret. I hope you understand? You know how it works, I am sure Mr King? Give away the secret and there is no business, right? And think about my uncle and all that he went through during those two awful wars! Let's not betray his memory! BUt let's respect him instead, by making lots of money!'
They all laughed at once, even though what Jim said was not a joke, and wasn't really that funny at all.
It was a very awkward moment for them.
A horrible unpleasant silence followed.
But it passed away when Jim revived the topic of the drink, and the goodness of its taste.
'It's has to be one of the best tasting drinks out there, right?' he said. 'The taste is so unique! Like you were saying yourself, Mr King. You cannot compare the flavour of G-Juice to any other drink?'
King agreed wholeheartedly.
'Indeed good sir,' je replied. 'It makes you feel good, real good actually, and it does the job legally as well. And Yes a great tasting drink to boot!
Jim felt the time was ready turn the conversation towards the important stuff.
'Let me show you something better than taste - have a taste instead of these numbers...' Jim slid over a piece of paper. Mr King leaned across and the table and snatched the leaf up with one stroke.
This was what everything was leading too.
That page was covered in numbers. Profit margins in fact. According to that piece of paper, G-Juice had sold over a hundred thousand pounds worth of stock in America and Canada and an additional fifty thousand in Europe.
Not bad for a little business selling booze!
Mr King visibly liked what he saw. A smile quickly started to draw across his face. His eyes lit up like little fires had just been kindle inside of them. There might have been some little pound signs there as well, as he started throwing money into the fire - and that was what he was literally going to do next...
'I am really like what I see,' he replied. 'You have really done well for yourselves Mr Jim and company. I mean, this is impressive stuff. This is your first business, right? My first business crashed and burned. In fact I crashed and burned five business in unison before I got it right. But you? Man! You win on the first draw! Damn! You are indeed the kind of man I want to be doing business with. No doubt about it. Only a loser would fail to invest in a hot dog like you! Just point the direction you want me to throw my money and consider the deal done! And as far as distribution is concerned leave that to me. I will be selling your drink in all my pubs and all my restaurants. But this is what I want from you in return. I want thirty percent of the business. I think that's fair. You are new to the game and you need my experience. I can put your drink out there and make it global. So what do you say, lads? Shall I fetch my pen?'
The meeting lasted thirty minutes in total, and it ended just like that.
With a few strokes of a pen Jim and company had landed a cool 100K in their business bank account.
Rod looked pale and like he was about to pass out.
Everybody was grateful to Rod for maintaining his composure during the meeting, or at least for acting as if he was calm and confidence. But now the deed was done and King was gone, Rod started shaking. The signs of a panic attack were plainly visible.
They quickly fetched the man a glass of whiskey, a paper bag, and started patted him on the back until he was breathing normally again.
After Rod had recovered the three businessmen started to pour more drinks and enjoy themselves.
It had been a very brilliant and incredibly successful day.
Jim pointed at Rod from across the table. 'I told you I could do this! I told you I was going to pull off the deal. Admit it. I was a real pro today. A 100k businessman! You can't deny it, Rod. I owned Mr King. The man drank in my words and he vomited out the goods in return. Now we are rich men indeed!'
Rod asked Jim where he got the numbers from.
Jim pointed to his head. 'I got on the computer this morning and just created this spreadsheet. I wanted it to look good, but not too ridiculous. If I had mentioned millions he would see through the trick, so I kept the figures realistic for a small business like ours. I mean, who is to say we can't sell a hundred thousand pounds worth of stock to America? It's a damn big continent after all, with a good number of people living on it. Some of them are bound to love G-Juice.'
'Except we haven't sold a hundred thousand,' said Rod. 'Perhaps I need to remind you again that in three months we have only made fifty pounds...'
Rod's consistent pessimism irritate Jim so much he wanted to hit the man, and it took a lot of his willpower to keep his clenched fists at bay.
'Don't ruin this for me Rod,' Jim returned. 'We have got the money in our pocket to finally turn this operation around.
'King is going to find out one day that you fed him a bunch of lies,' Rod pressed on, pushing the negatives to the hilt. 'And when he finds out we are all finished.'
'If he finds out it won't matter,' Jim replied. And then he explained:
'We are going to make money. And when we start making money he won't care about the lies. Because we will have lined his pockets. He might even think we were clever. And if he doesn't we can buy us a boat or plane to another country because we will have the cash to do it. Money is power, and when you have got enough of it you can do anything!'
'We haven't won yet,' said Rod.
'But we will do in the next few months. For goodness sake we have won already, Rod! We have got 100k sitting in our account as we speak. That's real money right there. Now this is what we are going to do tomorrow. We are going to buy every last piece of equipment we need, and we are going to hire more people because we have the money to do it. You know some people, right Butch? The right kind of people, you know what I mean? The cheap kind.'
Butch nodded. 'Leave it to me,' he replied.
'We turn your house, Rod, into a massive production facility,' Jim continued. 'It has got the space. It's the perfect place. Then we will have the baee, the money and the manpower. We will have everything we need to complete the contract with King. It can be done!'
'I believe in you Jim,' Butch relied.
Jim thanked Butch.
But Rod was still hesitant.
Jim regretted so much having to do business with such a dithering gibbering wreck. But he needed the man's property, and so it was essential to keep him sweet and on his side. 'Why don't you go on holiday, Rod, and let Butch and myself run things while you are away. And when you come back home we will have made all the money and you will be rich. You will have your ten grand back and plenty more as well.'
'I am staying put thank you very much,' Rod replied, sternly. 'I am not going anywhere not while you and your men are brewing that juice in my house! I want to see this through personally to the end!'
'Okay. Your decision. But I need you to remain calm throughout the process, and I need you to not get in the way. Can you do that, Rod?'
Rod did not respond.
'We have got the world in our hands, Rod,' Jim continued. 'We have been granted the opportunity of a lifetime! Few people alive get a chance like what we have been given. This thing will work. I know it will, from experience. I used to work for a company that was half a million in debt for two years. They were about to dissolve. They needed one deal to save the day, and they got it, and they did it by lying. They did what I just did. They made the figures up, they put on the heirs and graces, and they lied to their partners, and they got the money, and they got the business up and going again. They kept us all in work for another year because they knew how to lie. Just like we do. So you see, I know what we are doing! I know it must sound crazy, Rod, but Butch here gets it and he has lived on the streets all his life and doesn't know anything about business, but I do! When i was with this company I watched and listened to everything my management used to talk about. What I know about business I have learned from them. It's all a sham. The biggest businesses out there are all lies, ponzi schemes, fantasies built upon debt after debt. It's all a joke. As long as we remember this truth, that life is a lie, we cannot fail. Look Rod, we've got the money! We have won. Everything is right there in our hands.'
'Well, let me give you some life experience, Jim,' Rod replied, 'people who have everything, lose everything just as fast. Just like my father, when he gambled all of our pawn shops away. Like my grandfather when he went mad and got drunk and burned his shop down... People who have it all, lose it all.'
After that Rod felt that he had roundly put Jim in his place. So he pulled himself up from the table and started to walk away. Rod was almost through the door when Jim called him back.
When Rod was back Jim started to speak.
This is what he said:
'Last bit of pessimism for the night, eh Rod? I will forgive you this once because it has been such a good day! Now let us drink up. But not too much! We need our wits about us if we are going to make this work. There is a lot of work to do. Tomorrow we are going to start a business that does real business, for real money, with real people. We have turned an idea from a scribble on a piece of paper with a few random numbers, into something that actually exists. Something tangible. Something you can touch. This is our day, lads! So let's make the most of it, and let the heavens rain money on our heads!'
A wish on paper...
What a fine thing!
(Remember! All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)
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