After Mike Myers joined Saturday Night Live last year, he created the sketch 'Wayne's World', a series of unbridled spoofs showing the nonsensical fantasies of the duo Wayne and Garth, often with celebrity cameos.
Inside the Daenerys Entertainment branch building in Greenwich Village.
Simon sat in the office he kept on the East Coast, script in hand for 'Wayne's World' .
Judged by the formula of a standard Hollywood commercial screenplay, 'Wayne's World' was a mess: no central plot, stitched-together scenes, and, as a comedy, no Hollywood-mandated 'happy ending'.
Yet this was the film that, Simon remembered, would earn $120 million dollars in North America after its 1992 release, placing in the year's top-ten box-office ranks.
After grinding for years as a small time TV actor, Mike Myers finally tasted sudden fame and, through the nineties, stayed a top-tier comedy star thanks to the 'Wayne's World' and 'Austin Powers' franchises.
Once 'Wayne's World' became a hit, analysts endlessly listed its winning ingredients: breaking the fourth wall to talk to the audience, amateurish humour, parodies and jabs at pop culture, the iconic use of Bohemian Rhapsody, and more.
Success or failure, you can always conjure countless reasons once you know the outcome.
Only Simon and New World Pictures president Danny Morris were in the office.
Simon was enthusiastic about 'Wayne's World', Danny Morris was sceptical, but whatever Simon wanted he made sure he pursued and delivered, no questions asked.
He had already missed his chance running Highgate Film; he wouldn't miss a second one.
A company's rapid rise can unlock staff potential; the once-lacklustre New World Entertainment execs had outperformed themselves since joining Daenerys Entertainment.
Of course, part of it was Simon driving them like donkeys.
When it came to weekend overtime, none of The Big Seven could match Daenerys Entertainment.
Although he'd given up Highgate, Danny Morris's record as New World president satisfied Simon, the reason he kept the job.
Simon had little patience for mediocrity.
With the memories of a dozen people crammed into his head, Simon easily pictured every gag Myers had written, so he read with relish.
After skimming the script, Simon looked up. "Cost estimate?"
Danny nodded. "Plenty of location work, some sets to build, ballpark $20 million."
Simon recalled the finished film in his head.
A low-brow spoof it might be, but packed with big scenes and small explosions; twenty million was cheap.
Reading Simon's face, Danny said, "If that's high, I can talk Myers into trimming pricey set-pieces; we could squeeze it under fifteen, maybe even ten".
"No, twenty's fine", Simon replied. "What about Myers's deal?"
"Two-picture contract: one million for 'Wayne's World', acting and writing. Sequel hike capped at five hundred percent".
Thanks to Saturday Night Live, Myers was already a known TV comic; a combined one-million fee was fair.
If the first film clicked, a sequel or new project could push him to five million; star territory, yet nowhere near Stallone or Schwarzenegger levels, which felt just right.
Simon had no more questions; he slid the script back. "Last point, most important: you or your producer must stay in constant touch with Myers, know every joke and reference inside-out. If you don't get the gags, there's no movie".
"Already on it, Simon", Danny laughed. "It's an education".
Simon glanced at his watch. "Nearly noon, lunch? Bob and the others?"
Over lunch with Danny and Robert Iger, talk turned to other business.
At New World, Sandra and her much-older mentor Robert Duvall had signed for 'The Silence Of The Lambs'; the original director Jonathan Demme was aboard. The budget was set at $15 million and the shoot starts September, release is set for August next year, late Summer Box Office season.
'Scream 3' the final part of the trilogy, was in prep. It was given a $30 million budget, triple the original, locked in for release Halloween 1991.
After 'Children Of The Corn 2' performed fairly well over Easter, part three entered early script development.
With the first two films' fan-base, New World earmarked ten million for 'Children Of The Corn 3', aiming to build a mainstream horror franchise with continuous storylines, similar to Scream.
Peter Jackson's twisted puppet film 'Meet The Feebles' never reached North American theatres, but through Australia, Europe, and other channels it had already recouped its million-dollar cost and turned a tidy profit; New World formally signed the Kiwi director for three more pictures. Jackson's next project, which Simon had seen, was the classic zombie film 'Braindead'.
Counting the newly green-lit Mike Myers comedy 'Wayne's World', New World had five films set for next year.
Simon's target for New World mirrored High Gate's: ten titles annually, so Danny kept hunting for more.
On the TV side under Robert Iger…
The 1990 spring season had long ended; outside of 'The Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills', every other confirmed reality and scripted show was moving into pre-production. Among them, 'Seinfeld', personally chosen by Simon, had its broadcast rights picked up by ABC, a deliberate decision Simon made with the long game in mind.
As for 'The Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills', the series would go on hiatus for the fall season.
Assuming everything went smoothly, 'The Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills' would restart next spring; the brief fall break wouldn't cause any irreversible drain on its popularity.
After lunch Simon rushed across the Hudson to Jersey City to meet Madonna and run the final rehearsal for tomorrow night's concert.
Saturday arrived in the blink of an eye.
Showtime at the Brendan Byrne Arena was eight o'clock; a little after six, Lisa Collins and her boyfriend Frank Walken hurried toward East Rutherford, just outside Jersey City.
Even though she'd seen plenty of coverage, Lisa Collins still found the ocean of people around the arena hard to believe.
There were simply too many.
Probably...
More than a hundred thousand.
Two hundred thousand?!
Lisa Collins had given up trying to count.
At most superstar concerts the crowd locked outside without tickets dwarfs the audience inside. The Brendan Byrne Arena held only forty thousand, and even fewer tickets had been sold. Without her connection to Jennifer, Lisa probably wouldn't have scored seats at all.
After circling the dense perimeter once, Lisa and her boyfriend had to park two blocks away and push through the throng on foot.
Less than a kilometre to the gate, fans on both sides waved hand-lettered signs offering sky-high prices for tickets, thirty-dollar seats were already going for three hundred.
Lisa instinctively hugged her bag to her chest. Inside were two floor seats right below the stage, courtesy of her best friend; given the fever in the air, she figured anyone who knew would lunge for them.
Still, she hadn't expected that guy to command this kind of pull.
It was only a three-song cameo, yet it had drawn a city of people.
Because Jennifer's friendship let her bump into Simon now and then, Lisa's awe had faded; her boyfriend even worked at Cersei Capital, further closing the distance.
But stop and think, this was a Westeros-produced concert.
Ever since 'Flight Of The Bumblebee', everyone knew the man was musically gifted.
Then came the triple phenomenon, his personally directed, 'Run Lola Run', 'Pulp Fiction', and 'Batman Begins', amassing a legion of die-hard fans.
And it wasn't just film and music; the usually low-key man occasionally surfaced in stories that left mere mortals star-struck.
Industry gossip had long claimed Simon Westeros packed serious combat skills, rumour said he'd broken legs before debuting and tangled with some actor now vanished from Hollywood. But when footage leaked of him knocking out ten pro boxers in a row at a Melbourne ring, the raw dominance sent fans wild.
Seeing the clip, Lisa's first impulse had been to phone her best friend and tell her 'Go feel him for me'.
Just a touch... a touch would be enough.
She was promptly called a lovesick fool.
They'd joked that fan letters arrived by the sack every week.
Explosive headlines about him surfaced all the time, yet he himself grew more reclusive, his rare TV appearances lasted mere minutes to plug a film, usually sitting quietly on the far end of the couch while other stars talked.
Now the man was finally stepping onto a concert stage.
Word was he'd even brought two brand-new songs.
No one dared miss it.
With his current wealth and status, who knew if he'd ever perform like this again.
Heart racing, Lisa finally squeezed inside with her boyfriend; it was already past seven.
Summer days are long, and golden sunset washed the entire Brendan Byrne Arena.
Even inside, people offered her wads of cash for her seats, desperate to get closer to the man.
She refused, naturally.
Warm-up music drifted from the stage; though the ticket said 8 o'clock, Lisa knew Madonna habitually ran late, often not starting until 9.
She didn't mind.
Lisa had little interest in Madonna; let Simon have the spotlight!
They'd snagged prime spots up front, and Lisa felt a twinge of resentment that her best friend hadn't come, if she had, Lisa might have finagled a backstage pass.
Unfortunately, the friend wasn't into Madonna concerts either.
Besides...
She saw Simon almost daily and even had him play 'Blizzard' just for her.
The well-fed can't empathise with the starving.
So she'd simply stayed on the West Coast.
Sigh.
Lisa wished she'd been bolder and followed her friend to become his assistant.
Now he was married; the odds of getting close were slim, and her outwardly gentle but fiercely jealous best friend would never allow it.
Shaking off the thought, she still had an hour to kill and began chatting with the fans around her.
Plenty were here for Simon.
Beside her sat a petite girl also named Jennifer, clutching a 'Westeros I Love You' sign, eyes fever-bright, cheeks flushed. When Lisa said she too was a fan, the girl bristled protectively, as if Lisa might steal him.
Hmph.
So what if you're devoted, have you ever touched the real man?
This big sister has!
Buoyed by that petty superiority and the electric atmosphere, the hour slipped past.
Perhaps fearing the crowd's wrath, the habitually tardy Madonna appeared only half an hour late.
At 8:30 the concert officially began.