e (53 page)

I am all for honest exchanges of views, and have no objection to your letter to Pertti. However, copying it to the entire network is unnecessarily cruel. It looks to me like you are showboating. I will not stand for my CEOs publicly upbraiding each other in an effort to score points. I am not impressed. In the future, leave matters of international diplomacy in the capable hands of your Harriet Greenbaum.

Jim

	Pinki Fallon – 1/10/00, 4:33pm
to:	Creative Department
cc:
re:	you are so cool

I have just come out of a review of our Coke work with Harriet and David and they were blown away. It was a special experience and I wish you could all have been there to share it. Thank you, not just to
those of you who did the work, but everyone else who gave support and created the atmosphere of positivity in which these ideas were made possible. I will visit each and every one of you to thank you personally . . . 

	Harriet Greenbaum – 1/10/00, 4:35pm
to:	Pinki Fallon
cc:
re:	Coke

STUPENDOUS!

	David Crutton – 1/10/00, 4:38pm
to:	Rachel Stevenson
cc:
re:	e-mail

I’d write directly to IT but they’re so fucking inept, I suspect they don’t actually exist. Now my e-mails are going not only to Finland but to every single employee in the Miller Shanks network. If my memory of the last annual report serves, there are over 15,000 of them. And every one of the keyboard-happy bastards seems to have decided to write me a reply. I am making it your mission to sort this out
NOW
before I personally take a fucking sledgehammer to every computer in the building and issue one and all with parchment, quill pens and carrier pigeons.

	Katie Philpott – 1/10/00, 4:40pm
to:	Liam O’Keefe
cc:
re:	hiya!!

How was your weekend? Mine was brill! I got really, really, really drunk at Planet Hollywood. Tequila slammers! Such a hoot! I was useless on Sunday. Anyway, are we still OK for tomorrow? I went to Selfridges on Sat and spent a fortune on a fab outfit. Can’t wait! Katie P

	[email protected] 1/10/00, 4:42pm (12:42am local)
to:	[email protected]
cc:
re:	Bucharest

Did I mention in my e-mail that I’m learning Romanian? You could pass that on when you speak to Jim. Cheers, or, as they’d say in Bucharest, “partile mici pot fi inghitite sau inhalate!”

Mike

	Rachel Stevenson – 1/10/00, 4:43pm
to:	David Crutton
cc:
re:	e-mail

I’ll get on it now and report back as soon as there is progress.

	David Crutton – 1/10/00, 4:45pm
to:	Zoë Clarke
cc:
re:	e-mail

I am about to walk out of my office. When I do, you will come in, sit at my PowerBook and trash every unread e-mail marked “re: I’m gutting.” You will find there are quite a few. Make sure this is done by the time I return.

	[email protected] 1/10/00, 4:49pm (8:49pm local)
to:	[email protected]
cc:
re:	THE BIG SECRET

Just back from dinner and read your e. Here’s what Vin and me think you should do. Nothing. Yet. Look at it this way. You don’t want to
make extra work for yourself. And if you want to throw maximum shit at the fan, the best time to do it would be Monday morning just before the pitch. That way it’s too late to do anything about it, they still have to present the campaign, and Horne will actually be back in the country to take the rap. Better still, Me and Vin will be there to enjoy it as well.

Down to four LOVE birds now. Mandi’s got sunstroke really bad. Even if she feels OK to get up for the shoot, she looks redder than a horse’s knob. Mel is on the phone sorting out a casting session tomorrow. The script would’ve worked with five but not four. We’re going to look for a couple of local birds to stand in. Dearie me, another morning staring at tits. Will it never stop? Horne still hasn’t left his room. He might be dead in there, his corpse bloated and rotting in the silk sheets. Do I even care? I do actually. He borrowed my copy of
Performance Car
on the flight and I want it back.

	[email protected] 1/10/00, 5:02pm
to:	[email protected]
cc:
re:	Coke