to Joe. “How come you bring me all the crazies?”
Joe smiled. “If he were sane, he wouldn’t go into this business.”
Ronzi turned back to me. “Thirty-thousand-copy guarantee. Cash in advance. I’ll eat the returns for an exclusive.”
“Not enough. Forty thousand copies at twelve and a half cents on the same basis and you’re exclusive for the first year only.”
“My partners won’t go for it. I got no protection. What if the fucking thing takes off? I get left holding my cock while you grab the brass ring.”
“You can always give me more money.”
He scowled. “I’d feel better if you give me just one idea of what I’m buying.”
I had him and I knew it. By now he was convinced that he was turning down Hugh Hefner. But I still had to come up with the clincher. “Who buys these magazines and papers?” I asked, stalling for time.
“Guys buy them. Who else?”
“And why do they buy them?”
“Pussy. They get their rocks off on the pictures. They’re always lookin’ for somethin’ new.”
He didn’t know it, but he had just given me the idea. “Now, you’re getting warm.”
“I am?” He was puzzled.
I looked at Joe. I wanted to think the expression on his face was one of respect, but it was probably simply wonder about what I was going to come up with next. The idea was shaping up, but I needed a few seconds more to get it together. I lobbed the ball at Persky. “Okay, Joe, do you want to tell him, or should I?”
“You’re the boss. You tell him.” He sounded uncomfortable, not wanting to get caught off base.
I lowered my voice. “It’s got to be confidential. Not a word outside this office. I don’t want anybody stealing this one.”
“I’m like a priest at confession. I don’t tell nobody,” Ronzi said solemnly.
I smiled. Somehow he didn’t fit the role. “New pussy,” I said.
“New pussy?” he repeated questioningly.
I nodded. “Lead feature, front page. Banner headline. New girl in town! A beautiful chick in micro-mini or hot pants. Carrying a small valise. At a bus or train station or an airport. Streamer headline right across her cunt in bold white letters. See her naked in our centerfold! And there’s a new girl each and every week. Fifty-two weeks a year.”
Ronzi’s mouth was open. “That’s fucking genius! Why didn’t you tell me before, Joe?”
I got Joe off the hook. “He was bound to secrecy.”
“It’s great. You know what I like about it? She’s naked inside the paper, not outside. That means they got to buy it to see her.”
“You got the idea.”
“I’ll take the forty, but you gotta give me an overrun of ten thousand on consignment and a free page of advertising in each issue.”
“Consignment okay at fifteen cents a copy. No freebie advertising. You pay eight hundred bucks a page just like everybody else.”
Ronzi appealed to Joe. “Explain the facts of life to this nut. What I’m askin’ is only normal.”
“What he says is true, Gareth.”
“Okay, I’m considerate. I’ll give him a fifty percent trade discount on the advertising. That’ll make it only four hundred a page.”
“What about the consignment? Fifteen cents a copy is shafting me for doing a good job and selling more,” Ronzi said. “I know I can push them out at thirty-five cents. That means I split my money with the dealer and it costs me a nickel a copy to get them out there against only two cents in the boxes for me.”
“You’re making me cry,” I said.
“You’re a crazy prick,” he said.
“Thanks. I’ll have my lawyer draw up an agreement.”
“Who needs a lawyer? My word is good.”
“Mine isn’t,” I said. “You need a lawyer.”
***
Persky didn’t speak until we were on the freeway heading back to Los Angeles. “I don’t understand you,” he said finally.
I lit a cigarette. “There’s nothing to understand.”
“You don’t play with guys like him. He’ll kill you if you don’t deliver.”
“We’ll
Joe smiled. “If he were sane, he wouldn’t go into this business.”
Ronzi turned back to me. “Thirty-thousand-copy guarantee. Cash in advance. I’ll eat the returns for an exclusive.”
“Not enough. Forty thousand copies at twelve and a half cents on the same basis and you’re exclusive for the first year only.”
“My partners won’t go for it. I got no protection. What if the fucking thing takes off? I get left holding my cock while you grab the brass ring.”
“You can always give me more money.”
He scowled. “I’d feel better if you give me just one idea of what I’m buying.”
I had him and I knew it. By now he was convinced that he was turning down Hugh Hefner. But I still had to come up with the clincher. “Who buys these magazines and papers?” I asked, stalling for time.
“Guys buy them. Who else?”
“And why do they buy them?”
“Pussy. They get their rocks off on the pictures. They’re always lookin’ for somethin’ new.”
He didn’t know it, but he had just given me the idea. “Now, you’re getting warm.”
“I am?” He was puzzled.
I looked at Joe. I wanted to think the expression on his face was one of respect, but it was probably simply wonder about what I was going to come up with next. The idea was shaping up, but I needed a few seconds more to get it together. I lobbed the ball at Persky. “Okay, Joe, do you want to tell him, or should I?”
“You’re the boss. You tell him.” He sounded uncomfortable, not wanting to get caught off base.
I lowered my voice. “It’s got to be confidential. Not a word outside this office. I don’t want anybody stealing this one.”
“I’m like a priest at confession. I don’t tell nobody,” Ronzi said solemnly.
I smiled. Somehow he didn’t fit the role. “New pussy,” I said.
“New pussy?” he repeated questioningly.
I nodded. “Lead feature, front page. Banner headline. New girl in town! A beautiful chick in micro-mini or hot pants. Carrying a small valise. At a bus or train station or an airport. Streamer headline right across her cunt in bold white letters. See her naked in our centerfold! And there’s a new girl each and every week. Fifty-two weeks a year.”
Ronzi’s mouth was open. “That’s fucking genius! Why didn’t you tell me before, Joe?”
I got Joe off the hook. “He was bound to secrecy.”
“It’s great. You know what I like about it? She’s naked inside the paper, not outside. That means they got to buy it to see her.”
“You got the idea.”
“I’ll take the forty, but you gotta give me an overrun of ten thousand on consignment and a free page of advertising in each issue.”
“Consignment okay at fifteen cents a copy. No freebie advertising. You pay eight hundred bucks a page just like everybody else.”
Ronzi appealed to Joe. “Explain the facts of life to this nut. What I’m askin’ is only normal.”
“What he says is true, Gareth.”
“Okay, I’m considerate. I’ll give him a fifty percent trade discount on the advertising. That’ll make it only four hundred a page.”
“What about the consignment? Fifteen cents a copy is shafting me for doing a good job and selling more,” Ronzi said. “I know I can push them out at thirty-five cents. That means I split my money with the dealer and it costs me a nickel a copy to get them out there against only two cents in the boxes for me.”
“You’re making me cry,” I said.
“You’re a crazy prick,” he said.
“Thanks. I’ll have my lawyer draw up an agreement.”
“Who needs a lawyer? My word is good.”
“Mine isn’t,” I said. “You need a lawyer.”
***
Persky didn’t speak until we were on the freeway heading back to Los Angeles. “I don’t understand you,” he said finally.
I lit a cigarette. “There’s nothing to understand.”
“You don’t play with guys like him. He’ll kill you if you don’t deliver.”
“We’ll
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