1. Choices
5:32am, Thursday, 11 April
Crazy! Awesome! Life-changing.
Crazy; because that is what I must be, being awake so early.
Awesome; because of who we’re meeting.
Life-changing; because that is what money does.
This is my story...
Here I’m up at this unearthly hour starting a blog. Why I've decided to start a blog now is beyond me. Maybe I'm having a midlife crisis at 31. Is 31 too early for that? I dunno. Or maybe it’s a new chapter of my life? But whatever the reason I’m sure I’m crazy! But today I’m going to meet a man who is going to make it all worth it. Today all those years of building our business are going to pay off. Finally!
To think that it just started off as a two man part-time animation business. Randle rocks! He has put together this deal with a big investment company that's going to see Dana and I living the good life. My Dana. My beautiful wife who has sacrificed so much while I've worked. Now I can't wait for today's meeting. We are going to finally cash in on the last 7 years of hard work, no holidays, late nights, stress. Hey, but it's now payback time!
Crazy; because that is what I must be, being awake so early.
Awesome; because of who we’re meeting.
Life-changing; because that is what money does.
This is my story...
Here I’m up at this unearthly hour starting a blog. Why I've decided to start a blog now is beyond me. Maybe I'm having a midlife crisis at 31. Is 31 too early for that? I dunno. Or maybe it’s a new chapter of my life? But whatever the reason I’m sure I’m crazy! But today I’m going to meet a man who is going to make it all worth it. Today all those years of building our business are going to pay off. Finally!
To think that it just started off as a two man part-time animation business. Randle rocks! He has put together this deal with a big investment company that's going to see Dana and I living the good life. My Dana. My beautiful wife who has sacrificed so much while I've worked. Now I can't wait for today's meeting. We are going to finally cash in on the last 7 years of hard work, no holidays, late nights, stress. Hey, but it's now payback time!
7:19 am, Thursday, 11 April
OK, I'm now running late. Stupid iron burns my shirt and I can’t find a single pair of matching socks. Here's hoping black and dark navy are close enough to appear the same.
"Malo, its your mom on the phone," Dana calls.
Damn! I am so stressed and rushed. I really should speak to her. Like Dana, it seems I haven't got around to talking much to mom lately either. No time. "Please tell her I'll call her this afternoon. I am running late," I shout back as I hurriedly make a mess of my tie for the third time.
Gotta go! Money time! The future!
"Malo, its your mom on the phone," Dana calls.
Damn! I am so stressed and rushed. I really should speak to her. Like Dana, it seems I haven't got around to talking much to mom lately either. No time. "Please tell her I'll call her this afternoon. I am running late," I shout back as I hurriedly make a mess of my tie for the third time.
Gotta go! Money time! The future!
9:12 am, Thursday, 11 April
Damn it! I have never seen traffic like this. And to make it worse I discover it is caused by some idiot with a flat tire. As I am about to finally get past them, their car door flings open, nearly causing me to smash into it, and a woman gets out, seemingly oblivious of the chaos she is causing. Typical woman driver. Only after I give a long blast of the horn does she suddenly look at me and shut her door.
9:22 am, Thursday, 11 April
I arrive at Platinum Investments International. Man alive, this is an amazing reception area. There's a huge sculpture of an eagle swooping down to grab a fish from a pond, that is dominated by a nearly 3m high waterfall. It's almost like being by a lake. We really need to get away. I can hardly remember what it's like to be at a lake.
Man! Where is Randle? We are meant to start at 9am.
Just then Randle appears coming down the should-be-in-a-palace looking staircase. "Hey Randz," I call, "where you been?" He looks up, almost surprised to see me. "Hey Malo," he replies. "Um...just been checking things out."
A should-be-in-a-movie looking secretary appears informing us that "they" are ready to see us. "Here we go Randz. This is the moment. If they buy us, we are set for life."
Man! Where is Randle? We are meant to start at 9am.
Just then Randle appears coming down the should-be-in-a-palace looking staircase. "Hey Randz," I call, "where you been?" He looks up, almost surprised to see me. "Hey Malo," he replies. "Um...just been checking things out."
A should-be-in-a-movie looking secretary appears informing us that "they" are ready to see us. "Here we go Randz. This is the moment. If they buy us, we are set for life."
9:32 am, Thursday, 11 April
If the entrance of Platinum Investments International was palatial, then the board room needs to be on the list of "to see before you die" places. Automatic sliding frosted glass double doors emblazoned with their trademark Pi logo announce the unabashed importance of the room within. Inside a huge boardroom table makes it clear that this is a place for important decisions by important people. Yet even this is overshadowed by the spectacular paintings on all the walls. The artwork alone in this room is worth more than our company. A smell of leather and a hint of brewing coffee hangs in the air. As we enter Mr. Dewati, the CEO looks up from where he is seated at the head of the table, flanked by two other suits. They all have an air of corporate importance and power.
Randle and I stand there for a few moments in complete silence as he fixes his steely grey eyes on us as if we are either an alien species or simply not expected. I am about to nudge Randle to say something when Mr. Dewati suddenly rises and in two long strides is before me shaking my hand in a steely grip. "Welcome Randle and..," he pauses and quickly I say "Malo. Malo Bel." He looks quizzically at me, so I hastily add, "Malory like the explorer."
Silently I'm cursing my parents for the millionth time for giving me such a stupid name. No one knows Malory and I'm certainly no explorer. Maybe they had great dreams for me. In fact my birth certificate only has "Malo" on it. Mom said she hates long names being shortened, so now I have to lengthen it instead. "Aah yes, Malory," he says in a sort of dismissive way, enunciating the "lo" and leaving me feeling like a fly under a microscope. I glance at Randle but he is not looking my way. Soon we are seated with thick documents emblazoned with the Pi logo and "CONFIDENTIAL" before us.
Without any introductions Mr. Dewati begins - flanked by the two unnamed suits. "You boys have a nice little business here," he booms. His steely stare and calling me a "boy" with a "little business" is starting to irritate me. "Nice indeed. The animation game is full of wannabes and kids playing. I must be honest," he continues as he leans back in his chair, "I wasn't keen on looking at your company when it was brought to my attention. Animation is boys playing with toys for no money. We are in the business of making money not making pretty cartoons." I am wondering why we are here with this idiot and glance again at Randle. He seems enraptured by the diatribe. "However," the booming voice continues, "I decided to have a look. Glad I trusted my gut," he says, rubbing his slightly protruding stomach as he says it, "I'm seldom wrong. There is potential in your little business. Our offer is on the table in front of you. You have 60 minutes to decide. Thereafter the offer is withdrawn."
I look at him in shock. "60 minutes? But we need time to go through the offer. We need time to think about things," I blurt out.
"You have time. Exactly one hour. If you can't make a decision in one hour then you are not the sort of quick thinking, innovative company we are interested in."
"That's ridiculous," I retort. "We are..."
"...more than happy to look at your offer over the next hour," Randle interjects.
"Good," booms Mr. Dewati, "I was beginning to doubt my gut," irritatingly rubbing it again. "You now have 58 minutes remaining," he says as he turns dismissively away and starts speaking to his hovering suits.
I can feel my face getting hot, but before I can say anything Randle grabs my arm and pulls me with him out of the boardroom.
Randle and I stand there for a few moments in complete silence as he fixes his steely grey eyes on us as if we are either an alien species or simply not expected. I am about to nudge Randle to say something when Mr. Dewati suddenly rises and in two long strides is before me shaking my hand in a steely grip. "Welcome Randle and..," he pauses and quickly I say "Malo. Malo Bel." He looks quizzically at me, so I hastily add, "Malory like the explorer."
Silently I'm cursing my parents for the millionth time for giving me such a stupid name. No one knows Malory and I'm certainly no explorer. Maybe they had great dreams for me. In fact my birth certificate only has "Malo" on it. Mom said she hates long names being shortened, so now I have to lengthen it instead. "Aah yes, Malory," he says in a sort of dismissive way, enunciating the "lo" and leaving me feeling like a fly under a microscope. I glance at Randle but he is not looking my way. Soon we are seated with thick documents emblazoned with the Pi logo and "CONFIDENTIAL" before us.
Without any introductions Mr. Dewati begins - flanked by the two unnamed suits. "You boys have a nice little business here," he booms. His steely stare and calling me a "boy" with a "little business" is starting to irritate me. "Nice indeed. The animation game is full of wannabes and kids playing. I must be honest," he continues as he leans back in his chair, "I wasn't keen on looking at your company when it was brought to my attention. Animation is boys playing with toys for no money. We are in the business of making money not making pretty cartoons." I am wondering why we are here with this idiot and glance again at Randle. He seems enraptured by the diatribe. "However," the booming voice continues, "I decided to have a look. Glad I trusted my gut," he says, rubbing his slightly protruding stomach as he says it, "I'm seldom wrong. There is potential in your little business. Our offer is on the table in front of you. You have 60 minutes to decide. Thereafter the offer is withdrawn."
I look at him in shock. "60 minutes? But we need time to go through the offer. We need time to think about things," I blurt out.
"You have time. Exactly one hour. If you can't make a decision in one hour then you are not the sort of quick thinking, innovative company we are interested in."
"That's ridiculous," I retort. "We are..."
"...more than happy to look at your offer over the next hour," Randle interjects.
"Good," booms Mr. Dewati, "I was beginning to doubt my gut," irritatingly rubbing it again. "You now have 58 minutes remaining," he says as he turns dismissively away and starts speaking to his hovering suits.
I can feel my face getting hot, but before I can say anything Randle grabs my arm and pulls me with him out of the boardroom.
9:56 am, Thursday, 11 April
"What the heck was all that about?" I blurt. "He is such an arrogant moron!"
"Relax Malo," Randle soothes, "this is our big payday, lets just stay cool and see what they are offering."
Armed with our thick copies of the contract we flop down into a soft leather couch in the corner presided over by yet another beautiful painting of a mountain lake scene.
"Randz, how are we going to read this massive contract in less than an hour? It's impossible. I just don't have a good feeling about this."
"We have worked for years to build this company Malo,” Randle replies, “and for months to secure this deal. We are not going to easily find another investor like this. They are a reputable company, they aren't out to rip us off. They also want to make money, just like us. Lets just look at the offer."
"OK. So how much are they offering us?"
"Well, it seems to be ummm...six mill...here on page six?" Randle answers as he pages through the contract.
Quickly I turn to page six, my heart beating quickly. Six mill. That was more than I'd expected. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. And yes, there it is..."acquire a 51% share of Randmal Studio for the sum of six million dollars ($6,000,000). One hundred thousand ($100,000) payable on signing and the remainder over the next twenty four months..."
"Wow," I gasp, my heart still beating with excitement. "Wow. Six mill. It's almost too good to be true."
"I told you Malo this is our payday and these guys are for real. Let’s sign this thing and get what we deserve."
"Yeah, but I think we still need to try and see if there are any surprises hidden in this encyclopedic contract," I reply.
Randle has always been a bit of a “jump first ask questions later” person, even if its sky diving he's trying for the first time - and that's a real example. But I'm a bit more careful. I wouldn't say I'm overly cautious. Lets say I'd like to at least ask a few questions about how we land and what happens if the parachute doesn't open. Hey, but I'll still jump.
This deal was beginning to feel a little like our first skydiving experience. Randle leaping out during the countdown at 3 and shouting "Kamikaze", much to the shock of the instructor and me who was still asking about the wind speed and the appropriateness of jumping today.
"Relax Malo," Randle soothes, "this is our big payday, lets just stay cool and see what they are offering."
Armed with our thick copies of the contract we flop down into a soft leather couch in the corner presided over by yet another beautiful painting of a mountain lake scene.
"Randz, how are we going to read this massive contract in less than an hour? It's impossible. I just don't have a good feeling about this."
"We have worked for years to build this company Malo,” Randle replies, “and for months to secure this deal. We are not going to easily find another investor like this. They are a reputable company, they aren't out to rip us off. They also want to make money, just like us. Lets just look at the offer."
"OK. So how much are they offering us?"
"Well, it seems to be ummm...six mill...here on page six?" Randle answers as he pages through the contract.
Quickly I turn to page six, my heart beating quickly. Six mill. That was more than I'd expected. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. And yes, there it is..."acquire a 51% share of Randmal Studio for the sum of six million dollars ($6,000,000). One hundred thousand ($100,000) payable on signing and the remainder over the next twenty four months..."
"Wow," I gasp, my heart still beating with excitement. "Wow. Six mill. It's almost too good to be true."
"I told you Malo this is our payday and these guys are for real. Let’s sign this thing and get what we deserve."
"Yeah, but I think we still need to try and see if there are any surprises hidden in this encyclopedic contract," I reply.
Randle has always been a bit of a “jump first ask questions later” person, even if its sky diving he's trying for the first time - and that's a real example. But I'm a bit more careful. I wouldn't say I'm overly cautious. Lets say I'd like to at least ask a few questions about how we land and what happens if the parachute doesn't open. Hey, but I'll still jump.
This deal was beginning to feel a little like our first skydiving experience. Randle leaping out during the countdown at 3 and shouting "Kamikaze", much to the shock of the instructor and me who was still asking about the wind speed and the appropriateness of jumping today.
10:41 am, Thursday, 11 April
Glancing at my watch I realize we have about 10 minutes to make a decision that will undoubtedly change the course of my life.
A door nearby bangs open and I look up irritably to see an apparently flustered middle-aged lesser minion of Pi darting out carrying a stack of papers. Undoubtedly destined for some other hopeful entrepreneur. His face is carved with wrinkles, and his hair is streaked with silver, as though time’s hand has painted him unfavorably.
As he darts past us he bumps the corner of our couch and manages to lose his grip on the stack of papers which fly skywards and slowly flutter down like one of those snow globe scenes. His look of shock, in some weird way, makes me feel happier as I turn my attention back to our contract, while the disheveled Pi minion scrambles to collect his pages.
A door nearby bangs open and I look up irritably to see an apparently flustered middle-aged lesser minion of Pi darting out carrying a stack of papers. Undoubtedly destined for some other hopeful entrepreneur. His face is carved with wrinkles, and his hair is streaked with silver, as though time’s hand has painted him unfavorably.
As he darts past us he bumps the corner of our couch and manages to lose his grip on the stack of papers which fly skywards and slowly flutter down like one of those snow globe scenes. His look of shock, in some weird way, makes me feel happier as I turn my attention back to our contract, while the disheveled Pi minion scrambles to collect his pages.
10:49 am, Thursday, 11 April
Just then the boardroom doors open spewing out one of the suits. "Five minutes left gentlemen," he says in a monotone nasal voice, and promptly turns and vanishes behind the hiss of the closing boardroom doors.
"I haven't had a chance to read even a quarter of this thing Randle. I dunno. What if we are missing some catch clause? I don't like being pressured like this."
"Mellow Malo," Randle replies, using his favorite refrain when I get stressed. "This is our dream. We have taken many risks along the way, and looking back they have always paid off. This is the big one."
"I know. I know. But why the rush? Why the pressure?"
"I think it's how they work here," Randle replies, "from the outset they are testing our mettle. Lets make our last big play. You and I. Lets do it. Let’s jump!"
"I haven't had a chance to read even a quarter of this thing Randle. I dunno. What if we are missing some catch clause? I don't like being pressured like this."
"Mellow Malo," Randle replies, using his favorite refrain when I get stressed. "This is our dream. We have taken many risks along the way, and looking back they have always paid off. This is the big one."
"I know. I know. But why the rush? Why the pressure?"
"I think it's how they work here," Randle replies, "from the outset they are testing our mettle. Lets make our last big play. You and I. Lets do it. Let’s jump!"
10:54 am, Thursday, 11 April
The hiss of the sliding doors opening jerks our attention. Out emerges the same stiff suit. "Time," he chimes like an automaton. "It's now or never." he says as he turns sharply and disappears back into the boardroom.
Randle jumps up. "Come on Malo. Let's do it. We've dreamed it. We've lived it. We've earned it. Let's take it!"
"You're right I say. You're right. We’ve earned it," I say standing and glancing at the disheveled guy gathering the last of his pages. We make brief eye contact, and a sense of something strange passes between us. Do I know him? He looks strangely familiar. But I can’t place him. His eyes seem to say "Please!"
Please what?
"Please help me" or "Please save me from this job" or maybe "Please don't sign!"
Just then the doors slide shut hiding him from view and sealing my choice.
Randle jumps up. "Come on Malo. Let's do it. We've dreamed it. We've lived it. We've earned it. Let's take it!"
"You're right I say. You're right. We’ve earned it," I say standing and glancing at the disheveled guy gathering the last of his pages. We make brief eye contact, and a sense of something strange passes between us. Do I know him? He looks strangely familiar. But I can’t place him. His eyes seem to say "Please!"
Please what?
"Please help me" or "Please save me from this job" or maybe "Please don't sign!"
Just then the doors slide shut hiding him from view and sealing my choice.