Greg Gifune - Night Work

"We're in the booking business," Frank began. "We work nightclubs, mostly small to medium acts. It's a decent and steady business, but to tell you the truth, it's reached its limit in terms of growth. We need a big act; something we can tap into that has the potential to grow as big and as quickly as we can. Wrestling is hot right now and seems to be an obvious choice because over the next few years it's only going to get hotter."

"There's a lot of money to be made," Charlie agreed.

"Charlie, listen, I don't claim to be a big-shot with all the answers, but I can tell you a couple things I do know. A good deal of business is image, and there is and always will be strength in numbers. One man, however talented and experienced, does not a company make."

"True enough."

"I can offer you booking services for the ECPWL. I can also offer a cash investment that will better secure both of our positions in the business while also eliminating some of your own expense. We can discuss terms and actual figures once I have a better understanding of your company profit structure. You primarily sell shows to high schools, colleges, and a handful of state fairs. I can put people in place who can handle all your booking and sales needs, but I can also offer… support."

Charlie smiled. "You mean the well-muscled kind?"

"I do."

"If we grow that becomes essential," he admitted. "Right now I'm small enough so I don't step on anybody's toes, but once I expand that'll change. Without sufficient support, as you put it, we'll hit a wall."

Frank finished his drink with a single gulp. "That's what I can do for you, Charlie."

"Sounds good so far."

"Of course, there are conditions."

"I'm all ears."

Frank sat forward, let his forearms rest on the table. "If I'm to restructure my company and make an investment in yours, I have to have some guarantees to protect my interests. One, I need an exclusive booking deal. My people and only my people sell the ECPWL. Two – "

"Hold on." Charlie lit another cigarette. "How can you expect me to give you an exclusive when I have no idea if you can even sell my product?"

"I'm willing to accept a three-month trial."

Charlie saw the waiter, signaled him and ordered another round of drinks. "What happens if during the three months you sell nothing?"

"Who does your booking now?"

"I do."

"And how many shows do you normally sell in a three-month period?" Frank asked.

"Two shots if I'm lucky. It depends on the time of year."

Frank nodded confidently. "If we don't deliver at least two shots in a three month span of time, I will personally pay you what you would've pulled down."

The drinks arrived and Charlie quickly drank nearly half of his. "You're a serious man, Frank."

"At times."

"I'm impressed. Go on."

"You said in your offer to us that we could look forward to becoming partners at some future point."

"That's right."

Frank shook his head. "That's wrong. Again, if I'm to put everything on the line, I expect you to do the same. I have no desire to be your employee, Charlie. If all I wanted to do was straight bookings, I'd have gone to one of the big boys. If we do business together it's all or nothing. We're partners from the word go."

"Are you nuts?" he asked, nearly choking. "You expect me to just turn over a portion of my company – a company I've busted my balls to build – just because you're willing to handle my bookings?"

"What am I, fucking stupid?" Frank snapped, increasing the intensity of his voice without raising the volume. "Are we talking business or jerking off?"

The smile vanished from Rain's face. "I'm listening."

"I'm telling you that we will double your sales and make you more money in the first year of our partnership than you've made to date. As a measure of good faith I'm willing to accept a trial where we can come to know each other better and have the opportunity to prove what's being said and agreed to here tonight. But once we've proven our end, we're in all the way, and we're in for good, or I take my offer to one of the other independents."

Charlie finished his drink and sat quietly for what seemed a long time. When he eventually spoke he asked, "How much?"

"Half."

"Jesus H. Christ! Half?"

"Relax, Charlie," Gus said smoothly. "A little bit of something is better than all of nothing."

"Think about it," Frank said. "Right now you only book between six and eight shots a year. If in the first year with us we do, say, twenty shots, fifty percent of the profits on twenty is still a hell of a lot more than all of the profit on seven or eight."

"Basic math," Gus said.

"Of course we also agree to pay half the expenses," Frank added. "It's a straight split right down the middle."

Charlie smoked another cigarette before he spoke again. "You're willing to agree to a three month trial?"

"Of course," Frank said. "If things don't work out, they don't work out."

"We go our separate ways?"

"If that's the way you want it."

He considered what Frank had said. "There's something else you've got to understand. Pro wrestling isn't like any other business – even the regular entertainment business. At first, incorporating you into the performance side of things might be a slow process. The boys don't trust people they don't know, and it'll hurt me with them if they get the idea that I'm answerable to you as an equal partner."

"Not a problem," Frank told him. "Bring us into that end at a pace the talent is comfortable with."

"Do you guys have a room here?" Charlie asked. "Or are you heading back to Massachusetts tonight?"

"We've got a room."

Charlie nodded. "I've got some promotional stuff for you – flyers, posters, examples of cards and tickets. The sell itself is a simple process. I can explain it all in an hour or two and have you prepared to sell the product by the time I leave. How long before you're ready to rumble?"

"I can have people in place by next week."

"Let's go up to your room where we can spread out."

"Then I take it we have a deal?" Frank asked.

Charlie's wide smile returned. "Why not? The way you set it up I got nothing to lose, right?"

"That's right."

"Besides," Charlie said, standing, "it's just talk. Until you deliver, you're just another rim job."

They'd nearly reached the elevator before Frank realized that he was the one who had been maneuvered.

It was eleven thirty when Charlie closed his briefcase. He had explained the sell and the breakdown of expenses and profits concisely, in a manner that made it both easy to understand and even easier to present to prospective clients.

"I've got a shot a few towns over at the public high school next Friday night," he stated flatly. "Ask for me at the door and I'll get you in. It'll be a good opportunity for you guys to see the ECPWL in person."

Gus gathered up all the materials Charlie had given them and slid them into Frank's briefcase. "We'll be there."

Charlie tossed a copy of a popular wrestling magazine onto one of the beds. "National magazine rated us best new independent federation in the business. Make copies and add it to the promotional sales package. The editor's from Jersey; hangs around the business a lot. He'll be at the show so you'll meet him then. We'll convince him to do an article on our new Massachusetts office."

"Sounds good," Frank said, escorting him to the door.

"OK, I'm out of here, got a long ride back to New York." They shook hands and Charlie smiled warmly. "Hopefully this is the start of something special, gentlemen."

Once the door had closed behind him and they were certain Charlie Rain had gone, Frank and Gus both burst into nervous laughter as a wave of relief washed over them. "Holy shit," Gus said, "we did it! We fucking did it!"