Chapter 8b

"We do?" Jake asked.

"What the fuck?" asked Matt. "Nobody told us nothing about no meeting."

"What's it about?" Nerdly wanted to know.

Pauline answered them one by one. "Yes we do, nobody told me anything either until an hour ago, and I don't know what it's about. They just said it was important and that all five of you and myself should be there."

"Freak-boy is still in Birmingham, isn't he?" asked Matt, using his recently coined nickname for Charlie.

"Yes," Pauline said. "He's been there for the past month. And Coop is in some place called Glamis with his motorcycles. It's down in the desert somewhere about three hours away. He won't be able to make it either."

"They specified that you should be here?" Jake asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I don't know if that means anything though. I've specified that I be included in any meeting that takes place in any sort of official capacity that involves plans for the band or any changes or additions to the income stream."

"So this could be either good or bad?" Matt asked.

"Or completely neutral," she said. She looked at Nerdly and smiled. "Hey, Bill," she said. "You're being kind of quiet."

Nerdly blushed a little. "It's been kind of a trying day," he said.

"I understand it's been kind of a trying few weeks," Pauline said. Jake and Matt had both complained endlessly to her about Nerdly's over-anal perfectionism. Likewise, Nerdly had complained quite extensively to her about Jake and Matt's lack of pride in their product. "You'll get through it. The important thing is to work together and stay focused, right?"

"Right," he mumbled.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend?" Pauline asked him, obviously with the intent of teasing him. Ever since they were children, Nerdly had had a romantic crush on Pauline.

"Uh... sure," he said. He made the introductions. Pauline and Sharon shook hands and exchanged nice-to-meet-you's. Pauline kept any further teasing to a minimum in light of the obvious tension between the three musicians.

They made their way out of the cavernous recording studio and to the elevators, riding up to the top floor where Doolittle's office was located. They arrived five minutes early but Doolittle did not make them wait as he would have with anyone else. They were ushered into his spacious office with the view of Hollywood Boulevard and given seats in the plush chairs before his desk. Doolittle and Crow were both present.

Doolittle offered both refreshments and cocaine to them, as usual. As usual, they all declined the offer. He simply nodded and called the meeting to order.

"I'm sorry that Coop and Charlie couldn't make it," Doolittle said. "I trust you will fill them in on the details of what is discussed here?"

"Of course," Pauline said. "As soon as I know what those details are. So how about we skip over any further preliminaries and get right to the point. Why did you call us in here on less than an hour's notice?"

"It's nothing negative," Doolittle said reassuringly. "We've got a new project for the band in mind to fill in some time and increase our international revenue stream once the live album is complete and in production."

"A new project?" Jake asked. "What kind of new project? Are you saying you don't want us to start work on a new studio album?"

"Not just yet," Doolittle said. "You see, sales of It's In The Book are still quite healthy and are not showing any signs of slacking off in the next two quarters. Once we release In Action, we'll be enjoying a fresh onslaught of album sales and radio airplay from that. It would not behoove any of us to throw another album out into the mix just yet. Sure, it would undoubtedly sell multi-platinum — anything you boys put out at this point is guaranteed to sell at least three million copies — but your next studio album will sell so much more if it's not in competition with your other works. Strictly speaking, people aren't clamoring for new Intemperance material yet. They're still enjoying the old material."

"So what's the new project you're talking about?" Matt asked. "Let's get to the meat here, Doolittle. What do you want us to do?"

"It has to do with international sales of your albums," Doolittle said. "As you're aware, we released all of your albums in all markets we cover ever since the first one. You've done really well in Canada but sales of the early Intemperance recordings were marginal at best in Europe, Japan, and Australia. Your first three albums didn't even chart in any of those markets."

"They're selling like a motherfucker there now though," Matt said. As of the last marking period, both Balance Of Power and It's In The Book had each sold over two million copies in Europe and Australia and more than a million in Japan. In addition, all of the singles that had sold in the United States and Canada had been equally popular in the foreign market.

"Well... they're selling well, but not quite 'like a motherfucker', as you put it," Doolittle said. "We think that with a little promotion, we could sell many more copies of everything you've done in this market."

"What kind of promotion?" Jake asked.

"A tour," Crow said. "We going to have you guys hit the road on a full-fledged, European, Far East, and Oceania tour starting in mid-January and lasting through late April."

"The tour will be simultaneous with the release of In Action." Doolittle said. "It will be perfect timing. And as you swing through every geographic location and the media covers your impending arrival, our international contacts will work on increasing Intemperance airplay in each market. As airplay increases and as people fight and squabble over concert tickets, the album sales of everything you've put out will begin to pick up exponentially. These foreigners will buy In Action and It's In The Book first and then they'll start to buy your earlier albums to see what they've missed. It's a gold mine just waiting to be opened."

"What if we don't want to go out on another tour?" Nerdly asked. "We just got back a few months ago from a rather exhausting excursion throughout North America. I, for one, am not quite refreshed enough to undertake another such venture."

"You're contractually obligated to go out on tour whenever a new album is released," Doolittle told him. "I'm sorry you're not feeling refreshed, Bill, but this is something you're going to have to do."

"Whoa, hold on a second," Pauline said, holding up her hand.

"What?" Doolittle said.

Pauline went aggressively on the offensive. "I really hate it when you sit there and lie to my face, Doolittle," she said. "It's insulting on so many different levels. First, there's the lie itself. Second, there's the condescension toward me when you assume that I'm too dumb to catch you in your lie."

"What are you talking about, Pauline?" Doolittle asked innocently. "You know as well as I do that the Intemperance contract demands a tour with each new release. It's in black and white right there in that copy of the contract you carry in your little briefcase."

"Now wait a minute," Matt jumped in. "Before we start getting all hot and heavy into this argument, I'd just like to point out that I'm totally down with this tour. I like being on the road and I've already filled in all the states and cities on my fuck-map for the US and Canada."

"Matt," Jake said, driving an elbow into his side.

"What?" Matt asked. "What's the big fucking deal? I'm want to go score me some foreign pussy. Do we get to stop in Iceland? Can you imagine how cool it would be to get some Icelandic trim?"

"Matt," Pauline hissed, giving him an evil glare.

He finally got the clue. "Sorry," he said.

"I think Matt is right, Pauline," Doolittle said, doing exactly what Pauline had warned her band members he would do if they showed any sort of crack in the armor of unity. "Before you start accusing me of lying and telling me I have no right to force the boys out on tour, why don't we just see if they are willing to do it? Now it seems obvious that Bill here is a bit reluctant, but Matt seems to be showing the spirit. What do you think about this idea, Jake? Are you up for a little excursion around the globe to promote your music?"

"I'll withhold my opinion for now," Jake said. "I want to hear what Pauline has to say first."

"There's not really much she can say," Crow said. "Like Mr. Doolittle said, you are contractually obligated to tour whenever a new album is released. Failure to do so without just cause is grounds for breach of contract."

"And that's where you're talking out of your ass," Pauline said. "And not only that, you know you're talking out of your ass. Did you really think I wouldn't pick up on that?"

"Pick up on what?" asked Nerdly, who, for reasons of his own, didn't want to go traversing around the world playing in front of audiences night after night.

"Do you want to tell him, Doolittle?" Pauline asked.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Doolittle said huffily. "The way I read the contract, the issue is quite clear."

"The way I read it, it's quite clear as well," Pauline said. "Although the way I read it is the same way a judge and jury would read it too." She looked at Matt, Nerdly, and Jake. "The mandatory touring obligation clause only applies to the release of a new studio album. In Action is not a studio album. It falls under the umbrella of 'live albums or greatest hits re-releases'. The same reason that releasing In Action does not fulfill one of the contract periods makes it impossible for them to compel you to tour in order to promote it. And even if it did, the touring obligation clause is for North American tours only. They can't compel you to do an international tour under any circumstances."

It was obvious by looking at the faces of Doolittle and Crow that they knew this to be true.

"I suppose," offered Doolittle, "that one could make an argument — albeit a weak one — that the semantics of the contract could be interpreted in that way."

"It's black and white, Doolittle," Pauline insisted. "You can't make them do this tour and you damn well know it."

"So what are you saying here, Pauline?" Doolittle asked. "Are you saying the band will not tour? Pardon me for saying so, but that would be an asinine position to take. The amount of money we could all make from such a tour is considerable. Our foreign album sales could potentially increase by more than sixty percent over the next two quarters. At a minimum, our analysts predict at least a twenty-five percent increase. Think about that in terms of band royalties, which is where your primary source of income comes from. Are you really going to throw that away just so you could say you got one over on us on a contract point?"

"Yes," Nerdly said happily. "I think that's exactly what she's doing."

"No," Pauline corrected. "I never said the band would not go out on this tour. I'm just saying that you do not have the ability to compel them to undertake this tour under the current contract. If you want them to do this, a separate, foreign travel tour contract will need to be negotiated and signed beforehand."

Doolittle rolled his eyes upward. "Pauline," he said. "I understand you're trying to impress us all with your legal knowledge. I also understand that you lawyers all like to put things into writing. But is there any reason why the standard touring terms for North American tours can't just be carried over to this foreign touring contract? After all, our terms with the band in that regard are quite generous from an industry standard standpoint."

Pauline shook her head. "I don't have much experience setting up an overseas tour, Doolittle, but I'm not an idiot. North American tours are done primarily on the ground, are they not? The equipment is trucked from place to place in tractor-trailers and the personnel, including the band, are bussed. And even with the fairly low budget that Intemperance requires — since they don't use all the laser lights, pyrotechnics, and other glitter — they barely make a profit."

"The purpose of a tour is not to make profit," Doolittle said. "That's something that I've tried to make you understand all this time and you still don't get it. A tour is to promote album sales. That's where the profitability comes in."

"I understand that very well," Pauline said. "And album sales, while they do benefit the band, benefit National Records a lot more."

"We're a business," Crow said. "We're here to make profit."

"I understand that as well," Pauline said. "Where we're running into problems with this foreign tour concept, however, is that it will be much more expensive to carry out, won't it? We'll have to fly all of the band members and the roadies to each geographic location. You'll have to move all of the equipment by ship. You'll have to fly the people to England, ship all of the equipment there on a freighter, and then rent the busses and trucks to transport everything around once you're there. When the England portion of the tour is over, you'll have to fly all the people to the European mainland again, ship all the equipment again, and then rent a new set of trucks and busses to move it around there. And then, when it's time to move on to Japan, you'll have to do it all over again. All of that takes a lot of money. And then there is foreign taxes, visas for every member of the tour, customs charges, hotel rentals in places where the currency exchange is not in American favor. There's no way in hell a tour like this could do anything but operate in the red. And quite a bit in the red. Am I correct?"

"Well... I don't have exact figures in front of me, of course," Doolittle said. "But yes, it is a little more expensive to run a foreign tour then a domestic one, for all the reasons you mentioned. Once again, however, the purpose of the tour is not to make money. The profit comes from the increased album sales."

"And once again," Pauline said patiently, "I understand that. It is you who do not understand where I'm coming from, or at least you're pretending not to."

Doolittle sighed. "Suppose you tell me where you're coming from," he said.

"Under the current contract, the band pays for half of the tour costs for North American tours," Pauline said.

"Yes, we remember negotiating that point ad nauseam when we put together the contract," Doolittle said. "As I told you before, it's more than fair considering that most first time contract bands have to pay one hundred percent of the tour costs."

"Uh huh," Pauline said. "Don't even get me started on that one. My point, however, is that fifty percent of the tour costs for a foreign tour is considerably more money then fifty percent of the cost for a domestic tour. In return for putting up more money, the band will not be receiving any greater percentage of the increased album sales the tour will generate. In short, the advantage goes mainly to the record company in this deal."

"I suppose you could look at it that way," Doolittle said carefully, plainly not liking where this was going. "And how would you suggest we rectify the situation?"

"Easy," Pauline said. "You pay for the tour since it is you who will be benefiting the most from it."

Crow's eyes widened almost comically. "You want us to pay for one hundred percent of the tour costs?" he asked. "Are you high? You must be if you think we're going to take that proposal under any sort of consideration."

Pauline simply shrugged. "I haven't discussed this in length with my clients as of yet," she said. "After all, you did just spring this on us. I am quite sure, however, that they will demand considerable concessions if you want them to go out on this tour. Remember who is in the position of strength here, Doolittle. You cannot compel them to go out on tour for you in this situation. There is no reason for them to do your bidding if it's going to end up costing them short-term money. If you want them to do it, you'll have to make it worth their while."

"That's blackmail," Doolittle hissed angrily.

Pauline simply shrugged again. "When the circumstances are in your favor, you call it good negotiating. When it's in our favor, you call it blackmail. Refer to it however you want. None of us really give a damn. But think it over. We're going to end this meeting for tonight and get back together again on... oh, say Wednesday. By that time, we should have Charlie and Coop back with us and fully briefed in. In the meantime, I'll talk with the band and see just what it is they want out of this tour."

"You'll get no concessions from us," Crow said.

"Then my guess is you'll get no tour from us," Pauline told him. She pushed her chair back and stood up. She looked at Jake, Matt, and Nerdly, all of whom were looking at her in stunned respect. "Are you ready, guys?"

"Yeah," Jake said. "I think I am."

"Fuckin' A," said Matt. "Let's get out of here."

At five o'clock that evening Nerdly, Jake, and Matt emerged from one of the side doors of the National Records Building into the VIP parking lot. Matt and Jake each had backpacks stuffed with several days' worth of clothing, shaving gear, and other overnight accessories. They would be spending the night in Ventura and then flying to Bodega Bay — a small oceanfront town north of San Francisco — in Jake's plane the next morning.