344-346

Chapter 344: Spider-Man Still Packs a Punch! 

In the bathroom, Rachel Weisz dried Dunn off, then hesitated, a little embarrassed. “Uh… I don’t have any men’s pajamas at my place.” 

Dunn shrugged. “No biggie. Grab a towel—I’ll make do.” 

Rachel flashed a sweet smile, stepped over to the cabinet, and pulled out a clean towel. She carefully wrapped it around his waist. “Could you head to the bedroom first? I need to… tidy up a bit.” 

Women, right? After a bath, they always need a minute to touch up their makeup. 

Dunn waved it off. “No rush. I’ll hit the living room.” 

She tossed him a flirty wink. “Living room works. My couch is plenty big.” 

Dunn caught her drift and chuckled. “Not what I meant. I’m going to watch TV.” 

“Huh? Watch TV?” Rachel’s eyes widened, suspicion all over her face. 

That didn’t add up. 

Sure, she’d taken care of him in the tub earlier, but he was still young—barely in his prime! Fit, strong, and full of energy. Three or four rounds in a night should be no problem, right? 

Was her charm really that weak? One go, and he was done? 

Dunn saw the doubt in her eyes and laughed. “You’re gorgeous, and your body’s amazing. Tonight’s gonna be a blast.” 

“Then why… TV?” She teared up, nibbling on a delicate finger. “Am I less interesting than a show?” 

Great acting! 

Dunn cracked up, shaking his head. “It’s work stuff.” 

“Hm?” 

“Spider-Man’s airing on Starz tonight. I’m waiting for some numbers.” 

Rachel let out a relieved breath, patting her chest with a playful glare. “Oh, I thought I didn’t do a good enough job!” 

Cable TV in the U.S. works like this: Comcast sets up the lines and channels, then you pay to unlock them. But if it’s late or a weekend, you’re out of luck—no activations outside business hours. Like topping up a phone plan—if it’s off-hours, you’re stuck with a prepaid card. No 24/7 service here. 

Basically, it sucks! 

Rachel’s place didn’t have Starz subscribed, but when Dunn handed Starz’s operations to Comcast, he’d cut a deal. They’d bundle Starz into some channel packages, pre-installing it in homes. Right now, Starz’s reach across the U.S. was over 12 million households—potential subscribers just waiting to bite! 

The trick was using killer content like Spider-Man to grow that reach and turn pre-installed users into paying members. Starz’s current deal? First month free. So even without a subscription, Rachel’s TV could tune in for a trial month. 

Half an hour later, Dunn had it all set up. He plopped on the couch, watching Spider-Man mid-broadcast, the “Starz” logo in the corner. He let out a satisfied sigh. 

“The movie biz bounced back with Spider-Man. Now TV’s gotta lean on it to break through too!” 

Buying Marvel was hands-down Dunn’s slickest, most envied move yet. 

Just then, Rachel sauntered down from the upstairs bathroom. She wore a wine-red V-neck robe, collarbone peeking out, her wavy red hair loose and damp, giving off a lazy, sultry vibe. With a flutter of her lashes, a perky nose, and pursed lips, she padded barefoot down the red-carpeted stairs. 

Dunn grinned and waved her over. “Alright, enough with the charm. Come here!” 

She pouted. “I spent forever on my makeup.” 

“Yeah, it’s stunning—especially those fiery red lips,” he said with a nod. 

Rachel giggled, skipping over like a giddy kid and throwing herself into Dunn’s lap on the couch. Soft, warm, and sweet-smelling—nothing about her screamed “thirty-something.” 

It was almost funny. She was way older than him but played the flirty little sister act to a T. 

Maybe that’s just the taste of power? 

Dunn was loving it. He wrapped an arm around her, glancing at the fruit tray on the table. “Grab me that strawberry.” 

“Strawberry?” She shot him a teasing look. “You mean my strawberry?” 

He laughed, half-annoyed. “Cut it out! I’ve got serious stuff here. Once the movie’s done, you’re in for it!” 

Her lips curved into a sly smile. She picked up the tray, grabbed a fruit knife, and expertly sliced the fruit into bite-sized pieces, feeding them to him one by one. 

Dunn leaned back like a king, eyes half-closed as he watched Spider-Man, savoring her service. Every now and then, he’d playfully nip her fingers, sparking a string of giggles. 

After a long pause, she finally blurted, “Dunn… if there’s a chance—I mean, any chance—could you help me out?” 

He glanced at her, smirking. “Relax. I don’t take without giving back. You scratch my back, I scratch yours—that’s my rule.” 

Her face lit up like a flower in bloom. “What else do you want? I’ll get it ready!” 

He pointed at the tray. “Fruit for now—gotta keep my strength up. As for later… haven’t you already got that covered?” 

She burst out laughing, collapsing into his arms. “You’re so bad!” 

Right then, an hour into Spider-Man, his phone rang. 

“Boss, the numbers are in!” Tony Granmo’s voice crackled with excitement. 

Dunn kept it cool. “How’s it look?” 

“Starz’s two channels hit 1.7 million viewers! And in the last half hour, it’s still climbing—could top 20 million!” 

“How many?” Dunn sat up straight, his expression shifting. 

That was insane! 

Just days ago, Starz’s reach was at 12 million households. Tonight’s viewership hitting 20 million? Unreal. 

Tony was buzzing. “Boss, it’s legit! Spider-Man’s pull is nuts! I got Comcast’s latest numbers this afternoon—since May started, Starz’s reach jumped by 10 million!” 

Dunn sucked in a breath, unable to hide his thrill. “Good! Good! Good!” 

HBO led the pack with over 30 million households. Showtime, under Viacom—a Comcast buddy with shared stakes—trailed by just 500,000 thanks to forced bundles, though its real subscribers were way lower. Now, Spider-Man alone had rocketed Starz to 22 million households. A total shock! 

“What about subscribers? How many new members?” 

“Uh…” Tony’s tone dropped. “Not great. Of the 1.7 million watching, 2.55 million are paid. So… Spider-Man only netted us 410,000 new subscribers.” 

Dunn’s lip twitched. 1.7 million viewers, 2.55 million paid… over 15 million watching for free? 

Americans sure knew how to game the system! 

It also showed how weak Starz’s penetration had been. The first-month-free deal only applied once per account. Out of those 15 million-plus freebies, just 410,000 had used their trial before and gone paid. The rest? They’d never even tuned into Starz until now. 

In short, this huge Spider-Man spike was all about the free ride. People everywhere—rich or poor—love a deal. 

Business is about turning that cheapskate impulse into a habit. 

Dunn wasn’t fazed. He smiled. “Still a solid start, right? They’ve tried our product. We’ve made a name.” 

Tony exhaled, jumping on board. “Exactly, boss! Your movie’s a game-changer. Spider-Man’s already got Starz buzzing. Now we just keep the momentum.” 

Dunn had been quietly plotting to ditch Tony—too much ass-kissing, no backbone—but for now, he’d play nice. “I won’t micromanage operations—that’s your gig. Just know The Prestige and Memento are off the big screen soon. I’ll push Universal to let us air them on Starz.” 

Tony lit up. “That’s huge! Nothing hooks users like anticipation. Keep delivering stuff they want, and we’ve got ‘em!” 

“Looking forward to good news,” Dunn said smoothly, though his smirk turned cold. 

Tony’s days were numbered. 

He hung up, and Rachel peered at him, her pale face curious. “All done?” 

“Yep. Now it’s your turn.” 

“Ugh, you jerk!” She grinned, shooting him a shy, teasing glance. 

Chapter 345: This Woman’s No Pushover 

May marks a fresh start. 

The DVD sales for Spider-Man and Saw have been a smashing success, and they’ve now smoothly rolled out to the rental market. Sure, Dunn’s scooped up Netflix—owning 80% of it through Dunn Capital—but it’s not like he can just prop it up to dethrone Blockbuster, the rental kingpin. Blockbuster’s got 81.5% of its shares locked down by the Viacom Group, and Netflix is still too small to take on that giant, no matter how much Dunn might want to push it. Netflix’s real shot at glory? That’s a decade away in the streaming world. 

So, for now, Dunn didn’t hand the rental rights for Spider-Man and Saw exclusively to Netflix. Instead, he split them between Netflix and Blockbuster. On the TV front, Spider-Man has already cracked open a door for Tarz TV. It’s still a long haul to get families subscribing, but with its massive pull, the movie’s scored killer ratings and kicked things off strong. 

Meanwhile, GA Toys, a company Dunn’s invested in, has officially launched their “Bezz Dolls” to take on the iconic Barbie. Dunn’s arrival has shaken up the entertainment industry big-time. Thanks to his meddling, GA Toys shelled out $3 million to strike a deal with Mattel, securing the Bezz Dolls’ copyright outright. That means when Bezz Dolls blow up in a few years and start splitting the doll market with Barbie, Mattel won’t have a legal leg to stand on to shut them down. 

Oh, and one more thing—Silicon Valley Animation Studios, another Dunn investment, has pretty much wrapped their first project, Fantastic Four. It cost $30 million to make, and they’ve inked a copyright deal with Nickelodeon for $8 million. When Dunn heard that, he nearly hit the roof. 

What the heck is Tosca Musk playing at? Even if you don’t count the Fantastic Four rights—which Dunn handed over for free—this animated flick still took a $30 million investment and almost a year of hard work from the whole team. And they sold it off for just $8 million? Is this a joke? Does Tosca even know how to do business? Sure, Nickelodeon’s backed by Viacom, but does that mean she has to roll over like that? 

Fuming, Dunn summoned Tosca Musk to his office. Per their investment deal, Silicon Valley Animation has full operational control, with Tosca calling the shots. But Dunn Films owns 50% of the company, so he’s got every right to demand answers. 

Tosca strolled in, her golden hair shining, dressed in a sharp black-and-white business suit. As always, she looked stunning—every bit the polished, elite professional. “Big boss, judging by that face… you’re not about to chew me out again, are you?” she teased, her tone half-joking, half-flirty. As a career woman, she knew how to play her cards, and that playful vibe could melt half a guy’s anger on the spot. 

Dunn frowned, pointing at the sofa. “The animation’s done?” 

“Pretty much. We’re just doing final tweaks. Barring any hiccups, it’ll be ready for handover in June.” Tosca tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, taking a coffee from the secretary with a sweet “Thanks.” 

Dunn nodded. “A CG animated film finished in under ten months? Your team’s efficiency is impressive.” 

Tosca smiled. “It’s animation, not a live-action movie. But I’ll say this—no animated film in history will match the quality we’ve put into Fantastic Four.” 

Dunn smirked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, sure. Most animations cost $3 million tops, and you spent a cool $30 million!” 

Tosca grinned, her eyes flickering up at him. “Boss, you’re not… mad at me, are you?” 

Dunn kept it cool. “I just need an explanation.” 

“Explanation?” Tosca perked up like she’d just caught on. “Oh, you mean the $8 million copyright deal?” 

Dunn’s brow furrowed. “$8 million for a buyout? Don’t you think that’s way too low?” 

Take Band of Brothers—a $120 million investment, and its North American TV rights fetched at least $50 million. Fantastic Four cost $30 million and only pulled in $8 million? That’s a raw deal. 

Tosca shook her head. “It’s not a buyout. It’s a 20-year copyright term.” 

Dunn laughed, half-exasperated. “Twenty years? What’s the difference? Sure, Fantastic Four’s effects might look good now, but in 20 years, will anyone care? Will anyone even watch it?” 

Tosca shrugged. “Still beats a buyout.” 

Dunn’s face darkened, his voice firm. “Tosca, I don’t like your attitude.” 

Tosca sighed, a little helpless. “Alright, fine. I’ll explain it seriously. $8 million is low, I’ll give you that. But this deal benefits us in at least three ways.” 

“Oh?” 

“First, it helps Tarz TV grow—” 

“Hold up!” Dunn cut her off, hand raised, looking stunned. “What’d you say? Tarz TV? What’s that got to do with you? Tosca, I want an explanation, not excuses!” 

Tosca didn’t flinch. “Silicon Valley Animation is a Dunn Films subsidiary, and so is Tarz TV. I figure if we look at things from a bigger picture, we can do better work.” 

It’s simple logic—the more value Silicon Valley Animation brings, the more Dunn will care. Growing up in a single-parent home with her mom raising her and her siblings, Tosca learned the ropes early. Her brother Elon was leading the charge, getting her and their younger siblings into small businesses from grade school. That upbringing sharpened her business sense and social instincts. 

Tosca’s no fool—she’s picked up on Dunn’s skepticism about her and her projects. Every other Dunn Films acquisition—like Marvel or Focus Features—was a full buyout. Silicon Valley Animation? Just 50%. That’s a clear hedge, a sign he doesn’t fully trust her. She’s out to prove she’s got the chops to not just help Dunn Films but climb higher. She didn’t ditch Silicon Valley for Hollywood to coast—she’s here for the challenge. 

Dunn gave her a long, hard look, realizing more and more this woman’s no pushover. “Go on,” he said, voice low. 

“I don’t know much about Tarz TV, but I know it’s a niche cable network up against HBO and Showtime—two giants backed by massive media conglomerates. Showtime’s got Viacom behind it. If we play nice with Viacom now, make Sumner Redstone happy for a bit, it might delay some of the heat from competitors.” 

Dunn shook his head, amused. “Make Redstone happy? That stubborn old man? Good luck with that. Showing weakness to throw him off might work better.” 

“I say we do both,” Tosca replied, a sly smile tugging at her lips. 

“Oh?” 

“That’s my second point.” She paused, then continued slowly. “We’ve all heard the rumors—Disney’s in talks with News Corp to buy Fox Family Entertainment from 20th Century Fox. Word is, they’re close to sealing the deal.” 

“If that goes through, Disney Channel will be the world’s biggest cable network, and Viacom’s cable lineup will drop to second place. Nickelodeon, no matter how cheap they got it, will just be a sidekick to Disney’s kids’ channel. Putting Fantastic Four on Nickelodeon now? It undercuts Disney’s momentum and earns us some goodwill with Viacom.” 

“Viacom’s market cap is closing in on $100 billion—more than double Disney’s! I think Dunn Films’ best move right now is teaming up with Viacom to counter Disney. It’d also ease some of the roadblocks Tarz TV’s facing. At the very least, it keeps Viacom from stabbing us in the back.” 

That spiel made Dunn see her in a new light. This woman’s sharp. 

Comcast, the biggest cable operator in the U.S., and Viacom, the top cable content provider, are tight partners. If Viacom wanted to kneecap Tarz TV, they could lean on Comcast for a few easy moves. Like those set-top boxes every cable user needs—Comcast could bundle or push Showtime for free while giving Tarz the cold shoulder. When folks try signing up for Tarz, Comcast could throw up random hurdles or have staff casually mention “cheaper, just-as-good Showtime.” That’d be a gut punch. They could even jack up Tarz’s installation and operating fees while slashing Showtime’s—straight-up sabotage. 

Unless Tarz TV starts bringing Comcast more profit than Showtime, that is. If it did, even if Viacom played dirty, Comcast would side with the bigger payday. But right now, Showtime’s the number-two cable network behind HBO—way ahead of Tarz in installs, subscribers, fame, influence, and content depth. Getting Comcast to pick Tarz over Showtime? Tough sell. 

Dunn, though? He’s got an answer: absolutely doable. Why? He’s holding an ace—Band of Brothers. 

Chapter 346: Acquiring a Special Effects Company  

Brothers in Arms holds a status in television history that far surpasses Titanic in film history!  

Sure, Titanic has its peers among classic movies—like Gone with the Wind, E.T., or Avatar. But in TV history? Nothing comes close to Brothers in Arms. Not even Game of Thrones, with all its global hype, can hold a candle to it.  

In its previous life, HBO and Showtime were the two titans of cable TV, neck and neck in the market. HBO, under Chris Albrecht’s leadership, invested in hit shows like The Sopranos and Sex and the City, giving it a slight edge. But that lead wasn’t huge.  

It wasn’t until HBO bankrolled Brothers in Arms and secured its North American broadcast rights that the cable TV landscape truly shifted. The moment Brothers in Arms aired, it caused a sensation. HBO’s viewership skyrocketed… closing in on 15 million subscribers!  

And these weren’t the free viewers who tuned into Spider-Man on TA Network a few days ago. HBO’s numbers were all paying subscribers! In other words, this one show more than doubled HBO’s subscriber base, leaving Showtime in the dust.  

Fast forward ten years, and the gap only widened. HBO subscribers were spending over $79 per month on average, while Showtime users averaged less than $18. Showtime’s audience didn’t commit to year-round subscriptions—they’d sign up for a month or two to binge a hot show and then dip. There was no comparison to HBO’s dominance.  

Brothers in Arms became a turning point in American cable TV history. It was a groundbreaking miniseries!  

Now, Brothers in Arms was firmly in Dunn’s hands, and it was the reason he felt so confident about TA Network.  

Of course, there was a catch. For this to work, TA Network needed to stay under the radar from May to September, avoiding any dirty tricks from Sumner Redstone’s Viacom empire.  

In today’s North American market, HBO reigned as the top cable network—no question. But HBO’s parent company, Time Warner, wasn’t in direct conflict with TA Network. Any competition would come down to content.  

And content? That was the one thing Dunn wasn’t afraid of. His mind was a treasure trove of classic ideas.  

TA Network’s real rival was Viacom’s Showtime, so Dunn’s top priority during this period was to keep Redstone off his back. Lull him into complacency so he wouldn’t make a move against TA Network.  

Then, Dunn would drop Brothers in Arms like a surprise attack, swooping in out of nowhere to cement TA Network’s status and influence in the cable world. By the time Redstone realized what was happening, it’d be too late to fight back.  

But here’s the kicker—turns out Tosca Musk had seen this coming too.  

And she’d even leveraged her one and only product, the animated Fantastic Four, to make a play. Her foresight was jaw-dropping!  

Dunn dropped his usual high-and-mighty lecturing tone. For the first time, he felt like discussing things with her as an equal.  

In the past, whenever Dunn treated someone as an equal, it was because his foresight told him they were destined to be a big deal—think Spielberg, Cameron, Bill McNickle, Ron Meyer, Jobs, or Elon Musk.  

But Tosca Musk? In his past life, she was a nobody!  

Still, after nearly a year of working together, Dunn was almost certain of one thing: this beautiful woman sitting in front of him was a hidden gem, buried in the sands of Hollywood in his previous life.  

Dunn stepped away from his boss’s chair and plopped down on the sofa across from Tosca Musk. With a slight smile, he said, “Go on?”  

Tosca Musk couldn’t have been happier. She quietly clenched her fist under the table.  

That feeling of being recognized? It was amazing!  

Even though Dunn hadn’t said much, she could tell his view of her had fundamentally shifted.  

That was no small feat!  

Especially for a beautiful woman like her.  

Tosca took a deep breath, flashing a charming smile. “The first two points were from a big-picture perspective. The third is about the long-term strategy for Sillywood Animation.”  

“Eight million dollars for broadcast rights isn’t a lot, sure, but that’s just North America. We’ve still got overseas markets and the DVD market. I’m confident that with the quality of Fantastic Four, we can recoup a $30 million investment.”  

“The real key is that Sillywood Animation can use Nickelodeon as a springboard to break into the scene and build a name. With Disney Channel consolidating its hold, Nickelodeon’s going to have to slash prices even more to stay relevant in the kids’ market. They’ll end up as a bargain-bin TV channel.”  

“To keep viewers hooked, Nickelodeon will rerun Fantastic Four like crazy in the short term. Don’t ask me how I know—I just have faith in my product. That’s free exposure for us. More people will get to know Sillywood Animation Studios.”  

Dunn gave her a half-smile. “So, publicity’s more important than profit?”  

Tosca replied, “For a company, profit’s king. But what’s even better than profit? Bigger profit. That’s where publicity comes in.”  

Dunn chuckled and shook his head. “Looks like you’re dead-set on making an animated movie.”  

“Absolutely, I’m all in on this!” Tosca’s expression turned serious.  

Dunn didn’t push back with his usual skepticism this time. He just nodded lightly. “The comic adaptation?”  

“Yep, Bone Adventures.”  

Tosca grinned.  

Dunn let out a soft “Hmm.”  

After their chat, Dunn had someone dig into Bone Adventures. Turns out, it was one of the most popular comic series among American kids right now.  

It follows the Bone siblings—goody-two-shoes “Bone乖”, adventure-junkie “Bone疯”, and lovable “Bone嬉”. They escape their hometown and embark on a whimsical, funny, fantasy-filled journey.  

It definitely had adaptation potential.  

“So, what’s your plan for this movie?”  

Tosca’s eyes sparkled. “While working on Fantastic Four, we gained a ton of animation experience and even developed two patented software tools. But Sillywood Animation’s team is still too small. To make a big movie, we need more effects artists and animators. So… I’m thinking of just buying a special effects company outright.”  

Dunn raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Big ambitions!”  

Tosca shrugged casually. “I ditched everything in Silicon Valley to come to Hollywood. I’m not here just to punch a clock.”  

Dunn grinned. “Which company are you eyeing?”  

Right now, Hollywood had four major effects houses:  

First, there’s Lucasfilm’s Industrial Light & Magic—the granddaddy of special effects.  

Second, PDI (Pacific Data Images), which DreamWorks Animation scooped up last year as they pivoted to CG animation.  

Third, Digital Domain, founded by James Cameron, the go-to for effects in Titanic, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and The Unsinkable.  

Fourth, Rhythm & Hues Studios, around since 1987 with a solid rep. They handled effects for Twentieth Century Fox’s X-Men.  

But with the rise of movie effects, special effects companies were popping up like mushrooms after rain. Hollywood alone had over 30, and even the tiny UK film scene had 7.  

The competition was brutal!  

Tosca said, “I’m looking at Cinesite, under Eastman Kodak. They’ve worked on the Mission: Impossible series and chipped in on some Narnia effects.”  

Dunn raised an eyebrow. “They’re pretty small-time, right? Never heard of them.”  

Tosca laughed, half-exasperated. “Big boss, I’d love to buy a powerhouse effects company too, but are you gonna give me the cash for that? I’m trying to make a big movie and buy a company. Without a $100 million injection, it’s not happening!”  

Dunn seemed to tune out her sarcastic jab, stroking his chin with his eyes half-closed, muttering to himself. “Sony Pictures has Sony Imageworks, DreamWorks nabbed PDI, and Twentieth Century Fox has Blue Sky Studios for effects… An effects company might actually be worth it.”  

“Huh?”  

Tosca’s eyes widened, picking up on something in his words.  

Dunn kept mumbling to himself for a bit, lost in thought. After a couple of minutes, he finally spoke up. “What do you think of Digital Domain?”  

“Mr. Cameron’s Digital Domain?” Tosca’s face lit up with excitement. “That’d be amazing! They’re the best in the biz for fluid effects—better than ILM in that department!”  

“Fluid effects?”  

“Dynamic effects! It’s the biggest boost for CG animated movies!”  

Dunn smiled. “Alright, then let’s go with Digital Domain. No point in messing around with small fry—if we’re doing this, we’re doing it big!”  

Tosca was so pumped she could barely sit still. “But acquiring them won’t be easy, right? They’re in their prime right now.”  

Dunn waved it off. “Don’t worry about that. James is the majority shareholder—one word from him, and it’s done. As for the other two co-founders, Stan Winston and Scott Ross, they’re sharp guys. They’ll see that teaming up with Dunn Films beats going it alone any day.”  

Special effects companies had been a hot trend for a while, but the industry was too small to sustain.  

With Hollywood’s demand, there was no need for 30+ effects shops. It was obvious that in the coming years, a bunch of them would go under.  

And that’s exactly what happened.  

Over the next 15 years, three of Hollywood’s current top four effects companies went bankrupt. The only survivor, Industrial Light & Magic, ended up as a dowry when Lucasfilm got sold to Disney.  

Effects were always just a supporting act in movies. Without control over their own destiny, these companies struggled to survive.  

It’s like the difference between indie film studios and the Big Six. Distribution channels were how the giants dominated Hollywood. Indie studios were stuck as sidekicks, their room to breathe shrinking until they collapsed.  

No indie studio ever escaped that fate—not even MGM, once a global sensation.  

Unless, of course, you were Sony Pictures, snagging Columbia, or Dunn Films, eyeing Universal…