Benevolent Entertainment America Network
In a little town in a little state stood a little store run by a little man. The little man, John, made things out of leather, and sold those things in his little town, and with the money he made, he and his mother lived as humble folk.
But, as I said, it was a little town, and only so many people lived there, and, leather being rather durable, only so much was needed. John and his mother decided to sell the little store, and on the very day that John put a “For Sale” sign in the window, a strange man in a fine suit walked in and right up to the counter.
“I see you’re selling your store, John,” he said.
“That’s right, stranger,” John replied, wondering how the man knew his name.
“Well, John,” the stranger said, “I don’t have any money, but I can tell you how you can make some. You give me this store, and I’ll give you some stock tips that will make you rich for certain.” The man looked like an honest man to John, though there was something funny in his eyes, a sort of weaselly look. But it could have just been a trick of the light.
“Stock tips? I don’t know,” said John, scratching his head. “I really need some money.”
“Stock tips are better than money, John. They’ll let you make more money than you could dream of.” The stranger looked hungry as he spoke.
John contemplated for a moment. The stranger was a little odd, but he seemed smart. “Well, ok stranger. It’s a deal.” John was not the wisest of businessmen, a point his mother promptly pointed out to him after he had used all the money left from the store to follow these tips.
When John woke up the next morning, however, and flipped to the financial section of his newspaper, he saw that his stocks had risen dramatically. “See, Ma,” he said around a mouthful of cereal. “They’re growing like magic.”
John’s mother shook her head and stayed silent.
With the dividends from his stocks, John bought the local television station, and renamed it “Benevolent Entertainment America,” because his goal was to make television that made people feel good. John’s favorite thing in the world was to make other people smile; making money was just a means to an end for John. He knew, though, that the real money was in network television, and he set up an appointment to meet with a network executive to see about making his little television station an affiliate.
The woman at the desk in the big reception room outside of the big office took one look at John (who had decided to go by “Jack” now that he was in television; it felt more professional) and thought to herself, “Mr. Ogrin eats guys like this for breakfast.”
Jack sat with his sweaty palms pressed against his knees and his tie askew because he’d never worn one before. Mr. Ogrin was talking to himself in his office, little bits of phrases making their way to Jack in the waiting area. “FCC fees,” he heard. “Channel Five… professional faux pas… stupid fumble…” He didn’t sound like a happy man.
Jack got more and more nervous while he waited, and was just about to tell the secretary that he’d have to reschedule when Mr. Ogrin called her into his office. Alone at the desk, Jack saw a script lying there, 12 episodes worth of a season. Seized by a sudden madness, he stuffed it into his bag and hurried out of the office.
Feeling a little dishonest, but justifying his actions with the fact that the big network had thousands – maybe millions – of scripts, Jack used what he stole to begin original programming at his station, and the show was a hit. He knew, though, that this show’s success wouldn’t last forever, and he needed something more substantial. He made another appointment with the network executive, but this time Jack had a different plan.
While Mr. Ogrin was waiting for Jack in his office, Jack explored the big building further, looking for Henry Edgar Nakatomo, the writer who had created the show Jack was currently producing. With the source of the creativity, Jack figured he’d be able to produce many shows, for years to come.
“Henry Nakatomo?” he asked when he found the writer’s desk.
“Yes, that’s me,” said the man.
“I’m from Mr. Ogrin’s office. You’ve been transferred, and he asked me to accompany you to your new assignment.”
“That sounds a little odd,” said Henry, “but I guess you’re the boss. Let me grab my things.”
Mr. Ogrin saw Henry getting into a strange car from his office window, and though he raced downstairs to stop him, the car was already gone.
Henry worked very well for Jack. Every show he wrote was a hit, and Jack’s little television station won several Golden Globes. Jack even bought another station in the next town over, and began to dream of a Benevolent Entertainment America Network, the BEAN. But he knew that he was still missing something. He had excellently written shows, but no real stars. The last time he was at the network, he had seen Mr. Ogrin’s appointment book, and he formed another plan.
Mr. Ogrin was scheduled to meet with Goldie Harper, but Jack intercepted her before she reached his office. Goldie Harper was the network’s biggest star.
“Ms. Harper?” Jack said.
“Yes, can I help you?” With her long blonde hair and clear, enchanting voice, it was easy to see why she was such a star.
“Mr. Ogrin has changed your meeting place. He’d like to have lunch with you, and sent me to drive you to the restaurant.”
“Oh, wonderful,” said Goldie. “I’m famished.”
“Follow me,” said Jack.
This time, however, Mr. Ogrin saw them before they had left the building. Jack rushed Goldie to his car, but Mr. Ogrin got into his car and chased them, hollering out of his window while he sped along. As they raced towards Jack’s little town, though, Mr. Ogrin lost control of his car and drove into a school bus. No one was seriously injured, but Mr. Ogrin lost his job at the big network when the event was publicized.
Goldie, though, loved working with Jack, and they eventually fell in love and got married. Henry continued to write excellent shows in which Goldie starred, and they all lived happily every after.
The End