Other People's Money
| Other People's Money | |
|---|---|
| Date of Cutscene: | 02 July 2013 |
| Location: | Narshe |
| Synopsis: | The stockholders of Milner Tool Works meet to discuss the fate of their company. Both company manager Beld Lemellar and Zaibatsu representative Minette Odam give speeches to the assembled, before the vote is cast. |
| Cast of Characters: | Beld Lemellar, Minette Odam |
| Tinyplot: | Other People's Money |
Beld 'Lem' Lemellar looked out over the main production floor of Milner Tool Works. The lathes were shut off, the fires allowed to die out, and over a hundred folding chairs were arranged in rows to create a temporary auditorium. Those seats were filled with the company's stockholders. Soon, they would take a vote on giving the Murasame Zaibatsu control of the company. The vote itself would determine if the company would live or die.
Lem had joined the company as a young man. He started on the manufacturing floor, became a foreman, and moved up into the board. Frances Milner had never particularly had any interest in his family's company, so Lem had been the one running it. He'd seen it carried through tough times, and had enjoyed the good times. And now this outside... this child whom had the appearance of one that had never truly done a day's work in her life... wanted to kill this company for a quick buck. He could barely look at her without snorting in disgust.
To his right were his loyalists. His aged secretary, Joanna. His daughter-in-law Lindsey, whom had studied law in Jidoor and returned home to help save the company. Others. His friend and company president, Jens Hewell, was up at the microphone, laying out the hard numbers and the company's fiscal plan. It was a good plan, Lem felt, solid and dependable. But it wasn't going to turn any heads. It was his turn to speak next, though he hadn't prepared any notes. He wasn't sure what to say in a situation like this. So he simply planned to speak from the heart. He stood, accepted the microphone from Jens with a polite nod, raised it to his mouth, and spoke.
"It's good to see so many familiar faces. So many old friends. Some of you I haven't seen in years. I thank Mr. Hewell for talking about our business goals and our outline for the coming years, but I'd like to talk to you about something else. I want to share with you some of my thoughts concerning the vote your going to make concerning the company that you own. This proud company, which has survived the death of it's founder, numerous recessions, and a war with Vector, is in imminent danger of self-destructing on this day, in the town of it's birth. And there is the instrument of our destruction." Lem turned, pointing a damning finger at the table containing the Murasame delegation. A half dozen young lawyers in high priced suits led by a girl with bells in her hair.
"I want you to look at her, in all her glory, Minette the Liquidator. An entrepreneur from another land, playing God with other peoples' money. The robber-barons of modern society at least leave something tangible in their wake. A coal mine, perhaps, or a railroad. Banks. But this girl leaves nothing. She creates nothing. She builds nothing. She runs nothing. And in her wake lies nothing but a blizzard of paper to cover the pain." Throughout the diatribe, Minette merely sat there, one leg folded over the other, arm laying askew on the table, and her mouth in a pensive, thoughtful frown. She glanced out over the assembled stockholders.
"If she said, 'I know how to run your business better then you', then that would be something worth talking about. But she's not saying that, she's saying 'I'm going to kill you because you're currently worth more dead then you are alive'. Well, maybe that's true, but it's also true that this industry will turn. When the Munny is weaker, when the Gil is stronger. After the economic boom settles, Narshe's infrastructure will need to be improved, demand will skyrocket, and when that happens we will still be here... stronger because of our ordeal, stronger because we have survived. And the price of our stock will make her offer pale by comparison."
"God save us if we vote to take her paltry few dollars and run. God save this town if this methodology is truly the way of the future. Narshe will become a place where... where we make nothing but fast food, creates nothing but lawyers, and sells nothing but tax shelters. Has Narshe become the sort of town where we kill something because... because at the moment it's worth more dead then alive..." Lem's voice choked a little with the rising emotion and passion.
"Well. Take a look around, look at your neighbor. You wouldn't kill them. It's called 'murder' and it's illegal. Well, this too is murder, on a grand scale, only in the Murasame board room, they call it 'maximizing shareholder value'. They call it right and they substitute gil where a conscience should be. Damnit! A business is worth more then the price of it's stock. It is place where we earn our living, where we meet our friends, dream our dreams. It is in every sense the very fabric that binds our society together. So let's say to Miss Odam... and every Minette in the land, that here! We build things. That we care about more then the price of our stock. Here... we care about people."
The stockholders erupted into applause and the suddenness of their standing was as the sound of thunder. Lem took his seat amidst the sound of their clapping and their cheers. And when Minette rose to take her turn to speak, the cheers became boos. She took the microphone in hand and waited for them to stop, standing there with only a slight frown.
Minette, too, hadn't prepared a speech beforehand. She wasn't good at speeches. Or public speaking. Normally, the PR department didn't let her anywhere near the public because her mouth was an erupting geyser of dumb things. But this was different. She had to do this and there wasn't anyone here to bail her out. In truth, she was nervous as all hell and had choked down a shot of vodka before the meeting started to calm her nerves. It didn't work. But ringing in the back of her mind was Mr. Murasame's advice.
'Illustrate how they will gain by following your advice. People are most swayed by the application of showing how it benefits them. Minimize the illogical, objectionable elements. You are capable of this, Odam.'
Souji believed in her. Out of all the people in the world, he alone supported her unconditionally. He never judged her, never tried to change her. He alone believed in her and she loved him dearly for it. If he said that she can do this, well, then by the Second Gods, she could. She was armed with facts and numbers, with logic and sense. Lem spoke from emotion, she spoke from the reality of the world. They boo'd her now... she'd change that.
"May the waves guide your soul."
Minette began quietly, almost placidly into the microphone. "May the waves guide your soul. And may the waves guide your soul. Please forgive me, I'm not familiar with the local custom. But that's what my people, the Levitani, say after a prayer for the dead. Because that is what you just heard, a prayer for the dead. You just heard a prayer for the dead, my fellow stockholders, and you didn't say a benediction."
"This company is dead."
"I didn't kill it, so like... don't blame me. It was dead when I got here. It's too late for prayers, totally too late. Because even if the prayers were answered, and the munny did this or the gil did that, or the infrastructure did that other thing he said, we would still be dead. You know why? Power tools. New technologies. Obsolescence. This company was being killed when it's only neighbor was Figaro... and now you've got to content with Archades. Vector. Midgar. Manhatten. We're dead alright... just not broke. And you know the surest way to go broke? Keep getting an increasing share of a shrinking market. Down the tubes, slow but sure." Minette's nervous feet started pacing back and forth, but still she kept talking.
"At one time, there must have been dozens of companies making chocobo cart whips. And I'll bet the last one must have made the best darned chocobo cart whip you ever did see. Now how would you have liked to have been a stockholder in that company after the railroads were laid down?"
"You invested in a business and this business is dead. Let's have the intelligence... let's have the decency, to kill it gracefully, collect our profits, and invest in something that has a future. But, like, we can't, or so says the prayer. Because we have a responsibility. To our employees, to our community. What will happen to them? Well, I have two words for that;
"Who. Cares?"
"Care about them? Why? They didn't care about you. They've been sucking you dry. For almost a decade, this company has been bleeding your money. Has Narshe ever said, 'we know times are tough, we'll lower taxes'? Reduce water and sewer?' Check it out, you're paying like double what you were ten years ago. And our poor, devoted employees which have taken no increases are still making twice what they were ten years ago. And our stock? A sixth of what it was ten years ago. Oh, sure, Lem will gladly tell you that your stock has gone up two points in the past week, but I'm here to tell you that it's 'cuz I'm buying it. Who cares? I'll tell ya."
"Me."
"I'm not your best friend here..." Minette shrugged, gesturing towards the board. "I'm your only friend. I don't make anything? I'm making you money. And lest we forget, that's the only reason any of you became stockholders in the first place... you wanna make money. You don't care if they manufacture hand tools, fried chicken, or grow potatoes. You wanna make money! I'm the only friend you've got... I'm making you money. Take the money. Invest it somewhere else. Maybe you'll get lucky and it'll be used productively, in a company that has a future. And if it is, you'll create new jobs and provide a service for the economy. And, Gods forbid, even make a few gil for yourselves." A chuckle ran through the assembled. "And if anybody asks, tell them you gave at the factory." More laughter.
Minette turned toward Lem, walking towards him. She met his eye, stared him down, and dared him to look away. She could see it in their eyes, the uncomfortable acknowledgement of defeat. Jens wouldn't even look at her, his eyes downcast towards the table. Only Lem met her head out, still proud, still defiant. Still unwilling to face reality. "And I think I /like/ the name 'Minette the Liquidator'. That's got a pretty snazzy ring to it." She turned towards the crowd again. "And you know why, fellow stockholders? Because at my funeral, you'll leave with a smile on your face and a few gil in your pocket. Now THAT'S a funeral worth having!"
There was applause. It was not the standing ovation that Lem's impassioned words had received, but there was general applause and no more booing. It was not domination, complete and total, no. But it was acceptance. And in this case, acceptance would be enough. Minette took her seat with a small, smug smile on her face. All there was left to do was to take the vote.
And acceptance meant victory.
