They sipped at their whiskies in silence.
“So, what about the formats you envisage?”, Philips was the first to speak, “I thought it had all been done before. Wow me with them and I might well be in.”
They talked that topic through for another couple of hours. Calls were made and other engagements moved. Lunch was delivered, eaten and followed by more whisky. Although Philips might have begun the conversation with a little scepticism and doubt, by the time they were concluding he was fired up with a new enthusiasm and belief that he might well be in on start of something truly unique. Irrespective of the money they would inevitably have to negotiate on, this was a project that he wouldn’t reject. If it succeeded, the rewards were immense. If it didn’t, it would fail in such a dramatic and disastrous way that he wouldn’t simply be going out with a whimper, but would be ending his career with a thundering bang that would also put him centre-stage again. It was a win-win.
They booked him a cab to take him back home, sparing no expense as they procured a luxury limousine for him, complete with a bottle of champagne that he worked his way through on the journey. This was London. The distances were never great but the progress was always slow. Let the limo move at a snail’s pace, that was fine. This was a taste of those heady days of the seventies and eighties when fans had screamed at him and fingers had been pointed through poorly darkened glass. Anyone looking on now would only see the car. He was hidden behind mirrored glass that was impenetrable. If he wound the windows down now, the response would be feeble if at all. Not so if Millennial came up trumps. He’d be back there again at the top and he would, once again, steal the heart of the nation.
That was the real draw. The renewed sense of purpose and the money in the bank were not to be sniffed at, but it was the fame he needed. The more of the bottle of Moet that he worked through, the more this became clear in his mind. Fame was so difficult to find in the first place and was now such a brief and transitory thing that there were few names who had enjoyed his own status as being something of a national institution in his day. That was what he wanted to get back to. This was his last opportunity to shift the nostalgia and the sympathy into adoration. He’d always thought that it would be in doing what he’d done before and had prostituted himself to numerous children’s programmes in order to get back up there. That had been his error. Millennial were going to reinvent him and that was the way forward. The past was what it was. He could bury it now. He was all about the future and he was going to make the most of it.
Chapter Twenty
The formats that Millennial Productions had offered to Philips were sufficiently unusual and ground-breaking to whet his appetite and fire him up with an enthusiasm that he had long ago believed was a part of his past. Although the reality of mass entertainment throughout history was that it would always be a variation on one theme or another, there was something a bit different about Millennial’s proposals and both looked set to be something of a success.
The first went under the working title of ‘Relative Strengths’. As that title implied, it was a family themed show that set out to explore the nature v nurture arguments that still perplexed psychologists. Teams would consist of five related people, drawn from a pool who were DNA tested to confirm their close relationship. Those teams would compete with an age-matched group of non-related individuals in a series of diverse tests and competitions. It had something about it, but Philips was leaning towards their second offering.
That show was called “What Am I Like?”. It was a playful title that made light of what some would say was a controversial and potentially dangerous concept. Contestants would apply for a place and undergo a number of cursory checks before being selected. Once they’d signed up, they were legally bound by the show’s terms and conditions. Given the nature of those, it was amazing how high the initial demand from potential contestants was, even before the show had begun to take shape. What appealed to Philips about this one over the other, was its potential to reveal some shocking and disturbing elements of people’s lives. And then, there was the sheer intrusiveness of it. Contestants could be watched and monitored at any moment and the thought of what might be revealed in that surveillance was enough to let this show trump the slightly more highbrow concept behind the other.
It also seemed to be a perfect, contemporary idea, in Philips’ eyes. He was of the pre-selfie age and had been struggling to connect with his audiences as even the youngest were now connected and linked via social media networks that gave them the cheap thrills and the perceived sense of identity that no children’s television show could match. Fronting this show would bring him the very audience that he craved. These were the people who had grown up with him but who had lost track of him as they built their own lives. Now, he would be associated with mainstream social culture and, more than that, would become one of its high-profile ambassadors. If people were getting a buzz out of being known through their computer profiles, imagine the clamour to make that recognition a part of prime-time viewing? Those who put themselves up for consideration wouldn’t baulk at their putting their whole lives on show to the public. No, they would willingly do that, just to be a part of this.
Having decided to plump for this format, Philips began to hone the product and explore the many ways that it could be taken from a proposal meeting idea into a world-beating product. The equipment was all readily available. Miniature cameras, wired networks, public CCTV networks etc., they’d all become part of our everyday lives. What constrained they’re use however, was the legislation that surrounded them. With ‘What Am I Like?’, such barriers were removed by the consent that contestants gave to Millennial to intervene, watch and record their lives at any time and in any circumstances. For a period of six months, those contestants would be unwittingly tested at random intervals and in numerous ways, revealing to the nation just what they were really like in life. Potentially, they might skew the results with their efforts to impress, but that little challenge had been swiftly overcome by Millennial’s contracts. Once they were signed up for assessment, the potential contestants were also advised that their selection might take place at any time and that they would only know after the event. Again, Philips was stunned at the number who had pre-registered to be in the first wave of those contestants.
What both formats offered, and something else that was lifting Philips’ spirits immensely, was the promise of international travel. He’d already been given a signing-up bonus, he was receiving regular salary payments, but now, after a couple of months of work on the projects, he was being supplied with First Class tickets to take him around the world. Ostensibly, these were trips to other broadcasters, pitching the show for syndication in every major nation on Earth. Parker had explained to Philips that this would be the perfect opportunity for them to spend some time together, develop the format even further and, of course, to have a little fun. He could have handled the negotiations on his own but he felt that Philips should be a part of them and that his personality and past might help swing the deals. That was what he’d been told anyway.
Prior to their first trip, Philips felt that he had a very good understanding of, and rapport with, the various members of the Millennial team and would usually interact with each of them several times a day via e-mail. They were giving him a lot of freedom and he never once thought it unusual that his daily contacts were always remote. In fact, he preferred it that way. It fitted in with his existing commitments and it meant that he could avoid an unpleasant commute each day. He rarely spoke to anyone other than Parker on the phone and those conversations were always at pre-booked times. Since that first meeting, they hadn’t met face to face again, although they had used teleconferencing once or twice.
Australia was the first port of call. Picked up by chauffeur-driven limousine, Philips relaxed as it whisked him through a private gate to an exclusive check-in lounge where only the select of the select were allowed to buy themselves privileged
access to the airways. He was flying with one of the Middle Eastern carriers, but his passage was a very personal one that included a suite to himself on the plane and his own individual cabin crew to wait on him. The twenty-four-hour flight wasn’t going to be a short one, but with just that small amount of time to enjoy this pampered lifestyle, Philips only wished it could go on for a little longer.
Parker met him in the Arrivals Lounge as he staggered back into the real world, a little worse for drink and lack of sleep.
“I’ll assume it was a good flight?”, Parker laughed and reached out his hand to take Philips’ carry-on bag.
“The best.”, Philips replied, “I can’t thank you enough. I’ve done First Class before but that was something else. And now, here we are on the opposite side of the world. It’s great to see you!”
The two partners hailed a cab and let it take them in its air-conditioned comfort to the nearby hotel where Parker and Philips had matching suites.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t travel with you.”, Parker chatted away as they moved through the slow traffic, “I’ve been all over the place recently and it just wasn’t practical. May be something we need to get used to, given that we’re both hitting these shows from different angles, but you’re right, those long-haul flights are something else in the top tier.”
“Mind you,”, he continued, “if this thing takes off, who knows, we may be looking at a corporate jet. Now that’s an incentive. Not just your own space in a plane but your own plane, and with your own hand-picked cabin staff. That something we should aim for?”
“Sounds like perfection,”, Philips replied, “although they’d have to do something special to top what I’ve just been through.”
“Which is why,”, Parker winked as the taxi pulled up and they clambered out, “we need to pick the crew very, very carefully.”
The rest of that day was spent in idle luxury. Philips caught up on his sleep, whilst Parker pottered around his suite, alternating between time in the spa bath and sipping champagne on the balcony. They weren’t meeting with their Australian colleagues until tomorrow lunchtime and everything was already set up. Parker wasn’t one to worry and stress about such meetings. He knew what it would be like and he knew just how to handle it.
Needless to say, the meeting went ahead without a hitch. The lunch was exquisite, their hosts polite and interesting and their pitch was received positively. Philips was given more leeway to discuss his own input into the show than he had ever believed he would be. Clearly Parker trusted him.
“So, let me just clarify this.”, the older of the two executives had turned to Philips for his answer, “This is something like The Truman Show, but it’s in real life. We get a bunch of schmucks to allow us to film them 24/7 and we test them by setting up scenarios in their lives that we control?”
“That’s about it.”, Philips replied, “And initial reaction is that we will never run out of candidates.”
“But we can make them look stupid, selfish, vain, arrogant and nasty. They know that, do they?”
“Of course, they do.”, Philips smiled as he answered, “And it makes not one bit of difference to their enthusiasm for the show. They just want to be known. They don’t care what it is they’re known for. And that’s the beauty of the format. We’re not going to get average Joe and normal Nancy. We’ll only get the fodder we need and the harder we hit them, the more they’ll love it.”
“It really is as simple as that.”, Parker intervened, “And the best of it is that we can all sit here and think of some of the scenarios that will be a real hit, but even the best of the bunch that we imagine will be nothing compared to what these people actually do as we manipulate them.”
“And legally?”
“Depends on the country of course,”, Parker replied, “but that’s for you to look into. We’re selling the format, but we’re doing it without any liability.”
The conversation began to wind down from that point but the two executives left on such a positive note that both Parker and Philips felt in the mood to celebrate. Which they did in a way that would make the most debauched Roman look like a bit of a prude.
And so, the pattern was established. For a month, they met at airports around the world, had successful and productive meetings with a variety of movers and shakers in the television industry and topped off each journey with a night of fun and games. Parker had all the connections and, as they got to know each other better, was able to meet their mutual needs even though their familiarity exposed foibles in themselves that they rarely shared with others. They grew to trust each other implicitly and looked forward to the breakfasts where they shared details of their lurid encounters.
It was work hard, play hard, and Philips found the format of the new show developing into something slick and potentially category killing. He was the driver behind the most unusual stunts that were proposed and the Millennial team couldn’t have been more enthusiastic about his ideas. He had contestants facing armed robbers, hoping they would lose control of their bladders. He had them refusing to help old ladies across the road. He had them conducting illicit affairs, spending hours masturbating over extreme porn and he had them stealing from the workplace. In fact, he knew that he could have them doing anything he wanted them to and that gave him such a buzz. When this show aired, he’d be back there at the top and there was nothing that was going to stop him.
It all went a bit awry when his flight from Thailand arrived back in Heathrow. The first indication that he had of something not being quite right was the number of reporters there to meet him. Sure, they’d been fed little spoilers to indicate that he was working on something a bit special, but that could never warrant such a large army of paparazzi. Before he had time to approach them, he felt a hand touch his elbow and heard a whispered voice in his ear.
“Mr Paul Philips?”
“Yes.”, he turned and looked at the half-dozen police officers who were screening him from the journalists.
“Could you come with us please.”, the policeman continued, “We need to ask you a few questions.”
The interview was long and detailed. Philips chose to say little as they announced the charges they were considering raising against him, even when they showed him the video evidence and the numerous photographs and scribbled notes that implicated him in procuring and engaging in sexual acts with young children. That they were children whose life circumstances had put into a position where they were, in his mind, willing participants, meant nothing. The evidence was as clear as a bell and made him wonder more about Parker’s involvement in it all.
“I presume,”, he asked, “that you are also following Anthony Parker? I’m not saying anything more just now until I have a brief, but you need to be looking at him as well. He set this all up for us.”
“And where do we find this Anthony Parker?”, one of the officers asked.
“He’s flying in on the flight after mine.”, Philips told them, “We’re working together on a project and he’s the one who’s been making these things happen. You need to get him.”
When that flight had arrived, and had failed to offer up anybody called Anthony Parker, the police began to lose patience with Philips.
“Any more red-herrings for us?”, the interviewing officer asked, “Or should we just stick with the facts.”
“That can’t be right.”, Philips protested, “Check the passenger lists. He was in Thailand with me.”
“We’ve already done that. You were seen with an unidentified male on several occasions but nobody matching his description has been found and we certainly have no record of any Anthony Parker.”
Philips explained to them in detail his dealings with Parker from that first trip to the offices of Millennial Productions, to their final night in Thailand. The police wrote it all down diligently and followed it up dutifully. When they came back to Philips a couple of hours later,
what they told him left him dazed, confused and terrified about his reputation.
“There is no Millennial Productions.”, the police officer informed him, “Nor are there any records of the existence of such a company. The website you told us of does not exist, not does your home computer yield any data that would indicate that you had been in touch with them. You have been seen at numerous airports in the presence of the same unidentified man, but if he is your Mr Parker, we certainly have no trace of him. In short, whatever you think you might be gaining by wasting our time like this, you should know that it has actually pushed us into the action we are now taking.”
They arrested him and escorted him out of the airport via a discrete rear entrance that few of the press had thought to cover. A couple of photographers had taken the gamble though and they snapped away merrily as the disgraced former children’s television presenter made his latest public appearance. Those photographs hit several of the front pages the following morning. What none of them showed was the shadowy figure who was standing watching proceedings from a little distance away. He was smiling. His flight had landed just a short time ago but he had missed all the crowds in the airport as he’d been ushered through those routes reserved for private jets. It had been a tiring journey, but worth it. Thailand seemed a world away just now, as did the latex and assorted prosthetics that he had used for the last time to become Anthony Parker. He’d ditched them somewhere discrete. And it had been an expensive few months. Again, worth every penny. He’d picked up business along the way, not enough to offset the cost, but against that he could balance the long-overdue holiday he’d treated himself to and the deception he’d performed against Philips. There was a chance that an overenthusiastic police investigator might raise an eyebrow that a certain American businessman had seemed to follow a similar route to Philips, but that was easily dealt with. Parker was the person that they were after and Parker simply didn’t exist.
Philian Gregory Page 18
