Page 102 - Just Deserts
P. 102

Stiff Competition

          “Now, tell me: are we on schedule for the first printing of the new
        novel?”
          Fetz  nodded.  “Yes.  We  had  some  trouble  getting  the  machine
        online that puts the scratch-off coating on the last page. But it was
        resolved with the manufacturer. He did not even need a bribe, he was
        so eager to get his foot in the door here.”
          “Excellent.” Cockleberry extracted a cigar from an inner pocket of
        his voluminous overcoat. Egon Fetz wrinkled his nose in disgust but
        offered his nominal superior an ashtray. The publisher lit the cigar
        and puffed a few times before continuing.  “And have you made the
        customary  arrangements  for  the—what  polite  name  have  we  given
        it?—overrun?”
          “Yes. Even if it never goes into a second printing, we shall be able
        to  make  a  considerable  undetected  donation  to  the  brotherhood
        through our bank in Belize. The young prince, I am told, is becoming
        restive in his tropical paradise; too bad we cannot advise him to enjoy
        his life of leisure while it lasts, eh?”
          They laughed mirthlessly. Cockleberry tapped an inch of ash into
        the  receptacle.  “He  will  make  a  lovely  martyr,  suntan  and  all.  But
        listen  to me, Egon:  ‘Stiff Competition’  has great potential,  perhaps
        greater than any of those Steele Galant pieces of crap. If it does as
        well  as  I  anticipate,  we  will  have  enough  at  last  to  finance  the
        counter-revolution. Then I shall return to our native land and reclaim
        my ancestral rights.”
          Fetz  shrugged.  “Let  us  not  count  our  chickens  before  they’re
        hatched. The profit in this case will be diminished significantly by the
        prize money you are committed to  distribute.”
          Cockleberry grinned wolfishly. “That is the principal reason I have
        paid this little visit today, Egon. According to the contract we have
        with the author of that absurd murder mystery, LibrAries will print
        one  hundred  copies  in  the  first  run  which  are  winners;  whoever
        scratches the coating off the last page of those books will win one
        thousand  dollars.  As  the  books  will  be  shrink-wrapped  here  at  the
        plant,  nobody  but  you  shall  know  where  and  when  the  winning
        copies are to be distributed. The thrill of a lottery will boost sales, no
        doubt—but we can save ourselves a good piece of that money.”

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