[Chapter 63: Excitied Daddy Kirk]
"Oh, really?" Charlie said dismissively, drinking his glass of liquor in one go and waving over the waiter. "Do you guys serve snacks here? Anything will do." He glanced at Mord and Ophir and smiled, "Didn't have a dinner. Want some?"
They both shook their heads.
Ophir rubbed his forehead, "This is a bar, man. I really don't get you."
The waiter was stunned, looking between Ophir and then Charlie.
Seeing the boss not responding and looking like someone not to mess with, he reluctantly said, "Uh, some of our buddies bought donuts, if you don't mind."
"Oh, don't mention that!" Charlie shook his head angrily, "You trying to rot my teeth. Mord..."
Mord reacted quickly, pulling out a few twenty-dollar bills and handing them to the waiter without a word.
Charlie said, "I remember there's a small diner across the street. Go get me three onion cheesecakes, keep the change as tip, thank you. Oh right, open a bottle of Pichon Baron for me -- any vintage is fine, as long as it's Baron."
The waiter was taken aback again, "Sir, can I buy wine there too?"
Ophir covered his face and sighed, "Charles, this is a music bar. Can you please stop treating it like a restaurant?"
"Is my request so difficult?" Charlie looked puzzled at the waiter.
The waiter was hesitant and silent. Just as he was about to speak, Charlie waved his hand, "Alright, sorry. Just get me something to eat. And one more cocktail, Sunset Coastline. Give those two five bottles of Budweiser, I don't want beer."
"Okay, sir!" Almost afraid this difficult customer would cause trouble, the waiter bowed slightly and walked away.
Charlie, unaware of his irritation factor, looked innocently at Mord and Ophir, "Am I scary? That guy looked like he saw a ghost."
"Not scary, just annoying!" Ophir smiled helplessly, "You're turning more and more like those damn capitalist bosses."
Charlie pouted, "Have I made any rude requests or acted impolite? I kept saying thank you and sorry."
Ophir thought about it, glanced at Mord hoping he'd help him say a few words, but seeing Mord's big goofy grin, he had to organize his own words. "How to put it... you have this godlike perspective, detached from everyone else."
"That just means I see everyone equally," Charlie shrugged proudly.
Ophir rolled his eyes, "Don't argue. I can't explain it well. Basically, it's like a god watching over mankind."
A saint not caring for people, treating them like cattle?
Is that equality?
Charlie decided not to argue further with Ophir.
As a saint, one must forgive and understand all sorts of human emotions.
...
The waiter moved very quickly, clearly bothered by Charlie. Working in such a high-end bar, he was no stranger to difficult customers.
Often with these customers, the best tactic was not to oppose but to show a positive attitude to get a lenient treatment.
Just as the waiter expected, Charlie caused no more trouble, eating snacks and sipping his flavored cocktail, quietly chatting with his two friends in a weird but calm way.
...
Soon, Daddy Kirk entered the bar with a henchman, looking around.
"Hey, Godfather, your recent progress is impressive. We might have had some misunderstandings before. Glad to get your invitation," Kirk greeted warmly, reaching out from a distance.
"Hello, Kirk!" Charlie stood and politely responded, making a confused face. "What misunderstandings? How come I don't know?"
"Ah, of course." The old guy responded quickly, not pressing the issue, winking humorously. "I'm just secretly jealous of how much money Fifty Shades of Gray made. I thought someone reported it to you."
The atmosphere became very friendly; they flattered each other.
They reminisced about their few past street encounters.
With three drinks down, soft music, and dim lighting, the mood was warm.
Finally, Kirk asked about the purpose of the meeting.
After a personal interview and some tests, Charlie gained a deeper understanding of this somewhat famous old guy from the Stanton neighborhood and was very pleased.
He laughed, "You might have heard, I ran into some trouble recently. Some guys from the Bloods gang came to my place in the Sinai community and set it on fire."
"Oh, yes," Kirk touched his big beard with empathy, "Those guys are despicable."
'Is he going to ask me to pay for revenge?' Kirk wondered but didn't offer help.
"My mom was scared, luckily I had Ophir and some brothers at home, and we caught those bastards quickly."
"Yeah, but it was very dangerous."
Charlie squinted, smiling, "Anyone in my situation would be angry. I'm law-abiding but no exception here. I'm having my lawyer collect evidence to sue, including Death Row Records behind it."
Kirk couldn't fully grasp but expressed righteous agreement.
The old man was patient and cautious, which pleased Charlie even more.
"Here's the thing, Kirk, we're old friends. My film distribution company is expanding channels. I want to collaborate with a record company to launch movie soundtracks.
Also, I'm starting a movie fund company to finance projects for Corleone Entertainment Group.
If you are interested, we can cooperate. I can offer you a preferential deal. No guaranteed profits but cost recovery is possible. These investments can be used for tax avoidance and asset restructuring -- a good channel.
Do you want to have a music company?"
The last question was abrupt. Charlie then calmly sipped his sunset-colored cocktail, seeming to enjoy himself.
Kirk, a man who had lived for decades, couldn't help but express surprise, "What the f--, I could own Death Row Records?"
"I don't know," Charlie smiled, "But I understand the label is troubled. Their rival, Bad Boy Records' top star, Wallace, is hiding all day fearful for his life. The gangster rap market is about to have a huge shake-up. Of course, the East and West Coast hip-hop veterans will get most of the cake first."
"This..." Kirk excitedly nodded, lighting a cigarette with his henchman promptly offering a lighter.
Charlie had laid it all out.
Finding a new channel for development was very tempting for Kirk.
People like him, once rising, wanted to upgrade social status and improve asset structure.
Investing in theatrical films and owning a record company could quickly make Kirk a legitimate businessman and safer.
Kirk understood this very well.
Often, people need an opportunity, a benefactor.
Not everyone could rise quickly like Charlie by skating on thin ice and challenging big companies; it took skill and luck.
Now, Charlie extended a hand as a talent scout inviting partnership.
Kirk couldn't calm down anymore, putting all his chips on the table, eagerly asking, "Dear Godfather, I don't know how to thank you. What should I do? Even if Death Row Records is bankrupt, I can't afford it."
*****
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