America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

Inside the Mexican restaurant.

Drett didn't rush to leave, instead, he said, "The information you've provided isn't comprehensive enough."

Having pocketed the money, Rodriguez had no intention of giving it back, "If the information were more detailed, it wouldn't be this cheap."

You can obtain more detailed information," Drett said, smiling at him. "Right?"

Rodriguez, money secured, replied, "That's all I know."

Drett opened his briefcase and took out another stack of US Dollars, declaring flatly, "You have a way, don't you?"

Rodriguez wasn't stupid—he understood the kind of "way" Drett was implying, but the risk was too great. That man was Martin Davis after all, cozy with the LAPD and the type who could single-handedly take down over a dozen armed Russian spies.

His own brothers would be delivering themselves to Martin on a platter.

Drett nodded, "I understand."

He then reached into his briefcase and produced another stack of US Dollars, placing it alongside the first one.

Diego and De Paul nearby began to breathe heavily, their eyes fixated on the black briefcase.

Romero quickly reached out to stop them, lest they do something foolish—he had noticed when he was at the door that a van was trailing Drett's car.

Rodriguez shook his head, "I have no way."

Drett took out another stack of cash, "No, you do have a way."

Rodriguez seemed unmoved.

Drett pulled out the last stack of cash and laid it down, "Thought of a way yet?"

This time, even Rodriguez's breathing quickened.

These ordinary people from Mexico didn't have an easy life in Los Angeles; this place was a paradise for the rich.

Drett took one last look at Rodriguez, said no more, and began to put the money back into his briefcase.

What a test of character this was—ordinary people couldn't withstand such temptation.

"Wait!" Rodriguez finally couldn't resist, "Double the sum, and I'll figure out a way."

Drett grinned, "Deal."

At his acceptance, Diego and De Paul's spirits lifted. Was there anything better than the US Dollar?
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The US Dollar meant fine wine, beautiful women, and a better life...

Drett pulled out the money again and slid it to Rodriguez, adding, "This part is the down payment; I'll give you the rest once you've completed the task. Since you've had dealings in Hollywood, you should know those things are useless to you, but they're extremely valuable to us. We won't mind this small sum of money."

After checking the money, Rodriguez extended his hand, "It's a deal."

"It's a deal," Drett shook hands with him, then got up and left the restaurant.

Rodriguez picked up the money from the table, gave everyone a stack, and warned, "Keep your mouths shut."

Diego sniffed the money he picked up; the scent was intoxicating. He said, "Boss, just tell us what to do!"

Romero and De Paul pocketed their cash, all eyes on Rodriguez.

A stack of cash like this could take out a few people in Mexico with plenty to spare.

Money in hand brought confidence, and a tremendous belief that one could accomplish anything.

Money secured, Rodriguez hesitated no longer, recalling what he had seen around the office and office building—the entrance to the building and the interiors were under surveillance...

He looked at Romero, "You're good at picking locks; can you open that kind of safe?"

Romero nodded, "Shouldn't be a problem, and if all else fails, we use brute force."

Handling the safe was doable; Rodriguez continued, "Next, we need to find an electrician, someone who knows surveillance cameras."

De Paul chimed in, "There are many from Mexico here; it won't be hard to find someone with those skills."

Rodriguez stood up, "Let's get moving right away."

......

After the 2011 New Year's holiday had passed, Martin received his Oscar ballots mailed from the film academy.

Now a member of both the Screen Actors Guild and the Producers' Alliance, he had the right to vote for all acting awards and Best Picture in the academy's internal voting.

As the academy sent out ballots, the Oscar PR campaign intensified.

Leonardo appeared on The Helen Show, talking at length on TV about the years he spent honing his acting skills, describing the hardships in a way that almost moved the audience to tears.

"Listen, does that make any sense?"

In the spacious living room of the villa, Nicholson shook his head at the TV program, "We wanted you to show off your talent, not your misery."

Leonardo, with a sullen face, said, "Do you know how miserable I've been all these years trying to polish my acting?"

He stood up and turned in a circle in front of Martin and Nicholson, "I've gained 50 pounds since the year 2000, isn't that miserable enough?"

"Yeah, you, Leonardo, have it so tough!" Martin couldn't stand this rich guy playing the victim in front of a pauper like himself and said, "You've had what, over a dozen official girlfriends? And dozens of non-official ones, each one a famous supermodel with a name."

Leonardo raised a finger and wagged it, "You've got it all wrong, Martin. It's the other way around. It was me who was dumped by over a dozen women!"

Elizabeth Olsen, who happened to be bringing over a fruit platter, was dumbfounded to hear such shameless remarks.

No wonder he got along so well with this scumbag and even became besties—they were all cut from the same damn cloth.

But a scumbag like Martin was a hundred times more adorable than Leonardo.

Martin gave Leonardo a thumbs-up, "You're indeed Hollywood's leading superstar, shameless to the core."

Nicholson directly pulled out his Oscar ballot from his pocket, asked Elizabeth for a pen, and said, "Just for being kicked to the curb by over a dozen women, I have to cast my first-choice vote for Best Actor to you."

Leonardo looked at Martin, lobbying, "Considering how many pieces of art I've bought for Lily, you've got to vote for me, right?"

Elizabeth had already brought the ballot and the pen in front of Martin.

Martin, quite helpless, wrote Leonardo's name on the first line of the Best Actor category.

Then he wrote Natalie Portman for the first choice for Best Actress and Charlize Theron for the second choice.

For Best Picture, he chose "Inception" and "Gone Girl," and for the first choice for Best Supporting Actor, he wrote Mene's name.

But there were still many categories left unfilled.

Leonardo and Nicholson were in the same situation.

Martin, wanting to get the voting done that day and mail it back to the Academy, asked, "Have you guys got any suitable choices for the rest?"

Leonardo said, "No."

"We are important members of the Academy. Every name on the Oscar ballot must be the result of careful selection," Nicholson said with particular seriousness. "Next, I'll teach you the most responsible way to choose."

Upon hearing this, Martin's sense of responsibility kicked in immediately, "You're absolutely right, Jack. We should set an example for Oscar voting."

Nicholson asked, "I remember your entertainment area has an indoor archery range? And there's also a dartboard?"

Martin replied, "Yeah, I practice when I'm free."

Leonardo exposed Martin's little secret, "This guy has serious paranoia."

Elizabeth, who had been acting as a temporary waitress and hadn't interjected until now, couldn't help saying, "Leo, if you'd been through something as traumatic as the violence at Burbank Middle School and Santa Monica Pier, you'd have paranoia too."

Leonardo agreed, "You are so right."

Nicholson thought otherwise; Martin's paranoia was purely a consequence of messing with too many people.

Martin took everyone to the auxiliary building next door.

The basement of the auxiliary building was originally a small bowling alley, which Martin had no interest in, so he had it converted into an indoor archery range, darts area, and fitness equipment gallery.

Nicholson took a list of nominees, covered a large dartboard with it, and said, "Next, we will choose the remaining slots by throwing darts."

Martin clapped forcefully, "That's a very responsible method, indeed. It should be promoted throughout the Academy!"

Leonardo, seeming to have realized something, asked Nicholson, "Is this how you old white men always vote so responsibly? No wonder I always fail to win an Oscar!"

Martin pretended to have an epiphany, "So Leonardo fails to win an Oscar not because of bad acting, but because Jack and his friends are too responsible when voting!"

Nicholson, not bothering with these two clowns, picked up a dart, stood behind the throwing line, and said, "Enough talk, hurry up and vote. I'll go first. The list here is for Best Supporting Actress and Best Supporting Actor."

Martin and Leonardo, truly responsible, were ready to vote, each picking up a pen.

Nicholson threw the dart with a swoosh, but it veered off course, hitting the wooden board behind the target and falling down.

"Best Supporting Actress!" Leonardo mimed signing, "Wooden board!"

Nicholson picked up another dart and threw it again, hitting the target this time.

He looked closely and said, "Best Supporting Actress, Amy Adams!"

Martin and Leonardo wrote Amy Adams's name as the first choice for Best Supporting Actress.

Then it was Leonardo's turn, and his dart hit the Best Supporting Actor, who turned out to be Christian Bale.

Despite their sharp disagreements, in a spirit of utmost responsibility to the Oscars and all nominees, Martin filled Bale's name beneath Mene's.

Next, it was Martin's turn.

Leonardo explained, "Your dart throwing is too accurate. If you hit wherever you want, that's irresponsible and unfair to others. I think you should be blindfolded."

"I'm a responsible person," Martin found a black cloth, covered his eyes, and let the dart fly from his hand.

The dart struck the target squarely.

Nicholson said, "Best Supporting Actress, Jackie Weaver!"

This actress was unknown not just to Martin but even to Leonardo and Nicholson.

But the dart had made its choice, so they still filled in her name.

The three knuckleheads, in a seriously responsible manner, busied themselves for over an hour to complete their Oscar ballots, which they mailed out the same day.