First, Meeker took the driver’s licenses of all who would be signing and made copies of them. She then took everyone’s thumb print in a book she carried. She then separated the master copy of the contract into six individual pages. She did not read the document, but simply asked the parties if this is what they had agreed to. Everyone confirmed that they had agreed to it.
“All right then,” she said. “Go ahead and sign.”
Jake, Pauline, and Nerdly signed on behalf of KVA Records. Doolittle and Crow signed on behalf of National Records. Meeker than put her official seal on each page of the document. Two copies of the document were then made. Meeker put her seal on each page of the copies as well, certifying that they were notarized copies of the original document. National kept the original. KVA and Meeker herself took possession of the notarized copies.
“That’s it then,” Pauline said with a smile once the process was complete. “This contract is now in effect.”
“Agreed,” said Doolittle, who was no longer hiding his predatory grin. It was quite apparent that he thought he had KVA right where he wanted them.
Pauline returned the smile. She would allow him to think that for a few more days. And then she would spring the trap she had so neatly set.
“I really thought Frowley was going to blow this whole thing out of the water,” said Jake as they sat in their favorite Hollywood Mexican restaurant thirty minutes later.
“Yeah,” Pauline agreed. “He knows we’re up to something. A rat can smell a rat. He just can’t figure out what it is.”
“Fuck him where he breathes,” said Matt, who was drinking a bottle of beer since rehearsal had been cancelled for the day. “I can’t wait to see the expression on his face when he finds out what this shit is really all about.”
“We need to be careful to not give anything away just yet,” Pauline warned. “We cannot give them a basis to argue that we did not sign that contract in good faith. When I spring my surprise on them, they cannot have any evidence that I knew what I know before we put those signatures down.”
“Frowley is going to know anyway,” Jake said.
“Of course he’s going to know,” Pauline said. “They’re all going to know that we planned this all along, but knowing something and being able to advance a legal argument for it are two different things. That means that no one blurts anything out at this meeting. We listen to whatever fucked-up proposal they offer, reject it, and try to negotiate something better.”
“There’s no reason for them to negotiate shit,” Matt pointed out. “They think they hold all the cards.”
“That’s fine,” Pauline said. “It will be a short meeting then and we can all go home a little early today. Let them have their fleeting moment of thinking they got the better of us. It will be dashed soon enough.”
“You’re sure about this shit you were talking?” Matt asked. “Really fuckin’ sure?”
“I’m really fuckin’ sure,” Pauline assured him. “The precedents are right there in the law libraries if you just know where to look for them. Had Frowley bothered to do even minimal research on this contract, he would have found them as well.”
National laid their touring proposal on the table almost immediately after KVA returned from the lunch break. It was every bit as ridiculous as they had assumed it would be. Perhaps even more ridiculous.
“Let me get this straight,” Pauline said, her eyes glaring at the suits. “You are suggesting that National Records gets to keep sixty-five percent of all touring revenue from both Matt’s and Celia’s tour, and that KVA pays one hundred percent of tour costs?”
“That is our proposal,” Doolittle said with a smile.
“You’re out of your fucking minds,” Jake said, shaking his head. “This is not negotiating in good faith.”
“We disagree,” Doolittle said. “We consider this to be a fair and equitable offer considering the low royalty rate we will be receiving for CD sales from the project.”
“Fair and equitable?” Pauline asked. “I haven’t actually crunched these asinine numbers yet, but I’m pretty sure that if KVA only receives thirty-five percent of tour revenue—half of which we are obligated to give to Matt—and has to pay all of touring expenses—the truck and bus rentals, the crew salary, the venue rentals, the promotion costs—we will be operating well in the red.”
“That is not our concern,” Doolittle said. “You are contractually obligated at this point to come to an agreement with us on touring. This is our terms of the agreement. We will not be changing them.”
Pauline rolled her eyes. “Frowley, talk some sense into these people,” she told him. “You know as well as I do that offering terms of a contract that guarantees one of the parties will go into debt is not considered good faith negotiation.”
“I know no such thing,” Frowley said smoothly. “Especially when you consider the profits that KVA will enjoy from the ridiculously low royalty rate you negotiated for in the MD&P contract. Your net profit will be in the black.”
“Not when you factor in the costs we incurred in producing the CDs in the first place,” Jake said.
“Again,” Doolittle said, “your cost of production is not our concern.”
“We’re not going to agree to sixty-five percent and one hundred percent of tour costs,” Pauline told them. “I don’t even have to consult with my partners to tell you that. We will not go into the red just so you greedy fucks can rake it in.”
“Then your MD&P contract will be in a state of breach,” Frowley said. “We were quite clear on that point when we went over that contract. You agreed to abide by that clause and you signed your names on the line. If you fail to come to an agreement on touring, we will file suit demanding payment for all revenue from CD sales and touring, plus legal fees and perhaps even punitive damages.”
“I got your fuckin’ punitive damages right here,” Matt said, grabbing his crotch and squeezing it a few times.
Jake and Pauline both gave him sharp looks. Matt had been specifically instructed to keep his mouth shut during this meeting so he would not blurt something out that would hurt their cause.
“I’m sorry you feel you are being treated unfairly,” Doolittle told them. “But our terms for touring are not negotiable. You can either agree to them or face the consequences.”
Jake and Pauline looked at each other and then exchanged a nod. “I guess this meeting is at an end,” she said. “Further discussion is pointless.”
“You cannot simply ignore this issue,” Crow said. “We will file suit if no agreement is reached.”
“We need a few days to discuss this,” Pauline said. “How about we meet again on Friday afternoon?”
“Very well,” Doolittle said. “Friday at two o’clock. But be advised, we will not be changing our position. And if you do not come to terms by the end of this month, we will begin legal proceedings.”
“Understood,” Pauline said.
A minute later, she, Jake, Matt, and Nerdly were out the door and heading for their vehicles.
Friday afternoon, the same players met in the same room for the meeting. Crow, Bailey, and Doolittle all had smirks of triumph on their faces as Matt, Jake, Pauline, and Nerdly sat down at the table. Even Frowley had a smirk on his face. It seemed he had gotten over his suspicions that a game was afoot. This was okay with the KVA people and Matt. They were quite looking forward to seeing those smirks wiped away.
“We have just one question for you,” Doolittle said, not even bothering with the pleasantries. “Are you here to agree with our terms? If the answer is no, then this meeting is over.”
“The answer is no,” Pauline said simply.