Before I knew it, I found myself face to face with the big cheese himself, Ashen Gray. The demon's presence filled the room, making feel like a mouse in a lion's den. But I was a royal mouse, damn it, and I had a pitch to make.
"So... Why does Your Highness want to et ?" Ashen's voice rumbled like distant thunder.
I cleared my throat, trying not to sound like a pubescent imp. "I'm here to ask for a little favor from your studio."
One of Ashen's eyebrows twitched slightly. "Favor?"
"I'm planning to make my first movie," I explained, my confidence growing with each word. "I thought your studio, with its impressive production capabilities, could help fulfill my longti dream of filmmaking."
Ashen stared at , his expression as unchanging as a gargoyle's. "Sorry, Your Highness. But I'm afraid I can't help."
My heart sank faster than a lead balloon in the River Styx.
"You see," he continued, still deadpan, "our studio has its hands full with several projects. We have no ti to help you."
I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. It was painfully obvious - Demon Pictures wasn't going to help , and my "royal favor" carried about as much weight as a feather in a hurricane.
Swallowing my pride, I stood up. "Well, if you're not available, maybe other studios in this city would be willing to help ."
Oh, how wrong I was.
Hours later, I trudged back to the palace, empty-handed and thoroughly deflated. The other two major studios had given the sa polite brush-off, and the smaller studios... well, let's just say they were less polite about it.
Back in my room, I massaged my throbbing temples and started organizing the papers strewn about. I shoved them into a bag, ready to et George and show him the script. At least soone was still excited about this project.
As I walked down the street, feeling sorry for myself, a poster caught my eye. It was advertising a bank willing to lend money at low interest rates for new businesses.
Suddenly, it hit like a bolt of hellfire. Why beg for help when I could do it myself? Sure, I only had 10,000 dollars now, but what if I started my own film production company? With my royal identity (useless as it seed today), I could probably secure a loan of around 200,000 dollars.
My steps quickened as the idea took shape. That kind of money would be more than enough to get started. I could buy equipnt, hire a small crew, maybe even rent out a dingy warehouse to use as a studio.
I grinned to myself, probably looking like a madman to the demons passing by. But I didn't care. This wasn't just a plan B - this was the plan I should have had all along.
Who needs Demon Pictures when you can have... Morningstar Productions? Okay, maybe we'd work on the na.
As I hurried to et George, my mind was racing with possibilities. We'd build our own studio, make our own rules. No more begging for favors or dealing with stuck-up executives.
***
Later that day, I found myself in George's place, which looked like a tornado had a personal vendetta against organization. As I explained my grand plan, George's eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"What? Arthur, you're... you're borrowing 200,000 dollars from the bank? To make a movie? Are you crazy!?" His voice hit a pitch I didn't think dwarves could reach.
"Shut your mouth, little guy," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I'm not crazy. I'll tell ya, this film of ours will be big."
George scratched the back of his head, looking like he was trying to solve a particularly tricky equation. "We may have our colored cara, still in developnt - but even if our film does have colors, it couldn't guarantee its success! It could be a failure and you'll be bankrupt!"
I felt a bit speechless at that comnt. Leave it to George to point out the glaringly obvious flaw in my plan. But I wasn't about to let a little thing like potential financial ruin dampen my spirits.
"Don't you see? I'm a royal prince no matter how useless that's been so far, goddamnit," I said, puffing up my chest. "Let's go to the bank now and don't complain too much."
As we made our way through the cluttered streets of Ferland City, George kept shooting worried glances. "Arthur, are you sure about this? I an, 200,000 dollars is a lot of money. What if-"
"What if nothing," I cut him off. "Look, George, we've got a chance here to do sothing big. Sothing no one's ever done before in the demon realm. Are we really going to let a little thing like potential financial ruin stop us?"
George muttered sothing that sounded suspiciously like "Yes, that's exactly what should stop us," but I chose to ignore it.
One eternity (and a lot of George's nervous muttering) later, we found ourselves at the bank, face to face with the sa oily manager I'd t yesterday when withdrawing my life savings.
"You wanted to borrow money for your business, Your Highness?" The manager was practically salivating, his sly eyes gleaming with poorly concealed greed.
I couldn't really bla him. In his mind, he was probably thinking that while I might be a useless demon prince, I was still a prince. And that alone was worth sothing.
It was clear the bank wouldn't care if I succeeded or failed. They'd be willing to lend money because even if I crashed and burned, they could always squeeze my royal family for repaynt, or use my failure as leverage for future favors. Not to ntion the PR value of having a prince as a client.
I began to explain my business plan, keeping it vague enough to sound impressive without revealing how half-baked it actually was.
I didn't need to go into much detail - we both knew this loan was as good as approved the mont I walked in.
Sure enough, after my spiel, the manager smiled broadly. "Well, Your Highness, your business seems to have potential. I'll approve your proposal."
I smiled and thanked him outwardly, while inwardly I was scoffing. Yeah, right. You see potential? The only potential you see is a failing prince making a stupid business decision that you can take advantage of.
As we left the bank, loan approval in hand, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitent and dread. On one hand, I now had the funds to make my dream a reality. On the other hand, I was now 200,000 dollars in debt with nothing but a half-finished cara and a script that may or may not be any good.
I looked at George, who seed to be in a state of shocked disbelief. "Well, my vertically challenged friend," I said, slapping him on the back, "looks like we're in the movie business now."
George just shook his head. "I hope you know what you're doing, Arthur."
I grinned, feeling a manic energy coursing through . "Of course I do. Now, let's go make movie magic before my family finds out and has committed to the Asylum for Wayward Princes."
As we walked away from the bank, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just lit the fuse on a very large, very expensive firework. Whether it would soar into the sky or blow up in my face remained to be seen.
But hey, that's showbiz, right?
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