Grid Effect

Here’s part five of what will be our six or seven part adventure in NBC executive land series. We’ll wrap it up tomorrow or Wednesday, since even we’re boring ourselves with this.

We open with Bob Costas, Dick Ebersol & Ben Silverman entering their suite at the Bellagio.

Costas: Wow. What a lovely, temporary living quarters. I am most certainly going to make use of this jacuzzi. What do you think, Ben?

Silverman: It ain’t bad. Hey, what’s in the mini bar?

Costas: Oh wooow, it is chock full of varying flavors of soda and assorted candies.

Silverman: That’s dynamite. Is there any Bombay?

Dick Ebersol emerges from the secondary bathroom

Ebersol: Easy there, cowboy. We still have a little work to do.

Silverman: Are you fucking kidding me? I thought we got everything out of the way on the plane.

Ebersol: That is true Ben, but we still haven’t come to any sort of agreement.

Silverman: No, you wanted me to run promos for our struggling prime time series’ during non-Olympic figure skating, and I decided that since no one watches that shit east or west of eastern Europe, that we were going to have to pass.

Ebersol: Excuse me Mr. Silverman, but the numbers don’t supp…

Silverman: …Support my claim blah, blah, blah. Look, I don’t want to argue about something that Jeff Zucker and his band of cronies are obviously forcing you to do. We’re in Vegas, man, you wouldn’t let me drink on the plane so now I just want to get my kicks in now. Leave the business for the morning.

Ebersol: That’s because you showed up for the flight drunk. And you were late. And you spent the entire flight vomiting in the bathroom.

Silverman: I wasn’t drunk, I just get sick flying. And the alcohol is a home remedy that’s always worked in the past.

Ebersol: You promise we’ll talk some more business tomorrow morning? And that nothing will interfere with our discussion.

Silverman: Scouts honor.

Ebersol: It’s 2pm now, why don’t we grab some lunch.

Silverman: First lets make a quick drink, then we’ll hit up the tables for a few hands, try to get our lunch covered.

Ebersol: it is all covered, if not by NBC then by the hotel.

Silverman: Yeah, but still…

Costas enters from unpacking suitcase from bedroom

Costas: Mr. Ebersol. Did you see the jacuzzi? Doesn’t it look stupendous?

Ebersol: It certainly does. Look I’m going to take a nap, these old legs can’t keep pace with you young bucks. Why don’t you guys get a little blackjack in and I’ll meet up with you around five or six for dinner?

Silverman Sounds like a plan, you ready to go Bobby?

Costas: I’m not one for blackjack, but surely I can find a nearby slot machine.

Silverman: I’ll teach you how to play, man. Someone as smart as yourself will pick it up in no time.

They converse as they walk out the door

Costas: Is it anything like Old Maid…

Door slams as they leave, Ebersol frantically begins to set up the digital recording device that was given to him by Rick Cotton to his person. “Perfect”, he thinks to himself.

Cut to dinner, as Silverman and Costas approach the table.

Ebersol: So, how did we do.

Silverman: Up.

Ebersol: Really, how much?

Silverman: Let’s put it this way, even if the trip wasn’t comped, it would be now.

Costas: I won $325 Mr. Ebersol!

Silverman: Bobby was betting the table limit, being a newcomer and all.

Ebersol: And what were you playing with?

Silverman: Let’s just say it is well into five figures and leave it at that.

Waitress walks by

Silverman: Oh-hey-waitress!

Waitress: Yes.

Silverman: Do you think I could trouble you for a drink. A bombay and tonic. Thanks.

Waitress: I am not waiting on you guys tonight, but I will be sure to tell the woman who is.

The waitress begins walking away

Costas: Get me one too!

Silverman: Atta boy, Bobby.

Ebersol: Just how drunk are you guys?

Silverman: I had four or five of the same thing at the table. Bobby started off with apple juice but after he won a few hands he had a couple margaritas.

Costas: They were magnificent, sir. It was like the first time I ate pop rocks.

Ebersol: You know, if you pretended to give a shit about your career, you might actually excel in it.

Silverman: You said we were done for the day.

Ebersol: I’m not talking about now, just in general. If you showed up occasionally sober, or even just pretended like you respect anyone else’s opinion, you might actually be able to get us out of the gutter.

Silverman: It’s systemic at this point. The only way we’re getting out of last place is if someone murders Simon Cowell and JJ Abrams finally quits making absurd shit up on Lost. Then we might see a boost in ratings.

Costas (Lets out an audible yawn): It’s tired in here.

Ebersol: I see.

Silverman: As far as showing up sober is concerned, outside of Zucker, none of those guys wanted me there in the first place. And now even he is on the fence. So I’ll say to you what I said to them, I’m riding this wave for all it is worth, then when they knock me off of it, I’ll still have my production company to fall back on.

Ebersol resides himself to shock, but is more amazed that he actually finds himself half-agreeing with Silverman. The waitress returns with their drinks. Ebersol takes Costas’

Silverman: Rest up Bobby, I got us a table at Pure for tonight.

Part six tomorrow.