[email protected] 1/12/00, 10:10am (6:10pm local)
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: Bucharest
I hope all goes well with Coke. I’m sure it’s keeping you terribly busy, but have you found a moment yet to mention my interest in the Bucharest job to Jim? Do keep me posted.
Mike
[email protected] 1/12/00, 10:10am (2:10pm local)
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: what is going on in there?
I have knocked on your door, I have slipped notes under it, I have phoned you and I have stood in the gardens and thrown pebbles at your window. My last hope is that your laptop is on and you are reading your e-mails.
If you bothered to come out of your suite you would see mayhem. Frank Sinton is apoplectic and facing possible assault charges. The shoot is going appallingly. The cast are dropping like flies and we have yet to turn over. Melinda is coping manfully but Brett and Vince are treating the whole thing like a primary school trip to the zoo.
I need your help and support. I have just told David that you are doing a magnificent job. I suggest you emerge now and take some responsibility for this disaster. I will not cover your backside indefinitely.
Susi Judge-Davis – 1/12/00, 10:31am
to: Lorraine Pallister
cc:
bcc: Rachel Stevenson
re: you!!
What time do you call this? 10:30 is not acceptable. Do you think I can run this department on my own? You have not made an auspicious start this week. If you are unhappy I would be glad to speak to Rachel on your behalf about the alternatives.
Lorraine Pallister – 1/12/00, 10:36am
to: Susi Judge-Davis
cc:
re: you!!
Sorry I’m so late, Susi dear. I got shagged bandy last night, and took ages to get going this morning. You should try it sometime. It might loosen you up.
Susi Judge-Davis – 1/12/00, 10:39am
to: Rachel Stevenson
cc:
bcc: David Crutton
[email protected]
re: Lorraine Pallister
Please find attached an e-mail I just received from Lorraine. I don’t think I need to add anything to explain why I will not tolerate her on my floor for a moment longer. Please arrange for her transfer. Thank you.
ATTACHMENT
Lorraine Pallister – 1/12/00, 10:36am
to: Susi Judge-Davis
cc:
re: you!!
Sorry I’m so late, Susi dear. I got shagged bandy last night, and took ages to get going this morning. You should try it sometime. It might loosen you up.
Lorraine Pallister – 1/12/00, 10:44am
to: Liam O’Keefe
cc:
re: busy?
On my way in this morning I found out how to make the lift stop between floors. When are you free for elevator maintenance?
Liam O’Keefe – 1/12/00, 10:46am
to: Lorraine Pallister
cc:
re: busy?
I’ve got a snapper to brief, ten press ads to draw up and accounts are screaming for my time sheets . . . see you in thirty seconds.
Rachel Stevenson – 1/12/00, 10:49am
to: Susi Judge-Davis
cc:
re: Lorraine Pallister
A variety of people from David Crutton down have informed me that Lorraine seems to be fitting in exceptionally well on your floor.
Perhaps you should come and speak to me about your alternatives. My door is always open.
[email protected] 1/12/00, 10:55am
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: I need you
Darling, I know you’re in “Do Not Disturb” mode right now, but the moment you wake, please, please call me. I can’t go on.
Liam O’Keefe – 1/12/00, 11:05am
to: Lorraine Pallister
cc:
re: BIOLOGY EXPLAINED, PART I
before:
after:
Lorraine Pallister – 1/12/00, 11:11am
to: Liam O’Keefe
cc:
re: BIOLOGY EXPLAINED, PART II
(you weren’t wearing a johnny, were you?)
[email protected] 1/12/00, 11:13am (3:13pm local)
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: DATELINE MAURITIUS, DAY 3
We’re truly in the shit now. This morning we had four girls. Now we have two. A jet ski disaster worthy of The Boy’s Own Bumper Video of Jet Ski Disasters. Nathan got 2 of our birds to climb astride and shake their stuff. They did a few rehearsals and apart from the fact that Despina (your favourite on the casting tape) didn’t know her left from her right, it was looking dandy. Our marine girls roared off for their first run. They crouched low like buxom panthers over their handlebars. Fearlessly they accelerated towards each other, preparing to turn at the very last second. We looked on from the beach, struck dumb by their power and beauty. Nathan yelled, “Turn!” They turned. Nathan yelled, “Left, Despina, left!” The dozy tart went right.
Nathan shouted, “Cut!”
The two jet skis sank without trace. Despina had a broken femur and tibia (leg to you). Kerri (the other one) got two lungs full of the Indian Ocean and a vicious laceration (cut to you) above her eye. After that the weather turned lovely again. Cloudless. Sea like a mirror. But nobody was in the mood and Nathan wrapped. Anyway, we don’t have a script to shoot any more, being as we are four babes short of a full bevy.
It’s not all bad news. Fat Frank is helping the local plod with their inquiries into the Trump Affair – the traumatised beauty decided to make a complaint.
Mel is struggling to persuade the two remaining girls to stay with the movie. Vin and me are on our 2nd (3rd? 4th? 5th?) sodding rewrite. The last time I saw Desperate Dan he was sobbing into a Singapore Sling. Where the fuck is Horne? You tell me.
A word of advice from a mate to a mate: never, ever under any circumstances, even if a seven-foot psycho is pressing a ten-inch butcher’s knife to your jugular, write a TV commercial that begins, “Open on a palm fringed beach . . .”
Lorraine Pallister – 1/12/00, 11:27am
to: Katie Philpott
cc:
re: warning
Liam has been trying to convince me you’re some kind of serious nutter. You’re a fucking amateur. I’ll show you what mad is – just go within spitting distance of him again.
David Crutton – 1/12/00, 11:27am
to: Ravi Basnital
cc:
re: IT skills
Think of this as a test, both of my new-found e-mail skills and of your prospects of still having a job at the day’s end:
PERTTI VAN HELDEN, YOU ARSEHOLE.
Katie Philpott – 1/12/00, 11:45am
to: Lorraine Pallister
cc:
re: warning
Golly, keep your hair on! I was just being friendly. I jolly well shan’t bother in future.
Zoë Clarke – 1/12/00, 11:47am
to: All Departments
cc:
re: David’s schedule
David’s IT session is over and his diary is back to normal. – Zoë.
David Crutton – 1/12/00, 12:03pm
to: Lorraine Pallister
cc:
re: well done
I have just read your e-mail to Susi, which she kindly forwarded to me. Good work.
Lorraine Pallister – 1/12/00, 12:05pm
to: Susi Judge-Davis
cc:
re: bitch
Ladies’ bog. Now.
[email protected] 1/12/00, 12:13pm
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: I really need you!
&nb
sp; Have you woken up yet, darling? I’ve just had a ghastly row with Lorraine. She threatened me with a nail file. I tried so hard with her as well. As usual, Rachel has taken her side. I don’t know how David got involved but even he stuck up for her. Everyone’s having a go at me and I don’t know what to do . . . Sx
[email protected] 1/12/00, 12:21pm (4:21pm local)
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: STOP PRESS!
The Trump Affair has moved up a gear. Me and Vin were in the bar and got talking to this bloke. He was buying us drinks and asking us stuff about what we were doing here. Then he wanted to know what the score was with our Ivana. Turns out he’s a Sun hack. He’s here with a snapper trying to get shots of a topless McCutcheon – only a rag like the Sun has nothing better to do than chase ex-soap stars halfway round the world. Anyway, he’s onto a much bigger scoop now. We clammed up when we found out who he was but I think we’d been quite mouthy up to then. You know what it’s like – a few beers, and a bloke who’s impressed that you’re shooting with a bunch of soft porn stars – well, you exaggerate a bit don’t you? Vin told him he was the Creative Director and I think we made the whole thing sound a bit juicier than it maybe was. He’s doing the rounds now. Just saw Mel tell him to sling his hook. Fat Frank is back from the police. He and Desperate Dan are working on the grovelling apology in the hope it’ll persuade Trump not to press charges. Got to admit, it’s a crack. I got my picture in the Brighton Argus at nine for hooking an unexploded German mine when I was fishing with my dad. Thought that was a buzz, but it had nothing on this. I’d buy all the red tops tomorrow. I smell Fat Frank’s name in 140pt Franklin Gothic Bold Condensed.
[email protected] 1/12/00, 12:33pm
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: LOVE
I have just read your e-mail and feel wonderfully reassured. I am sorry that I fretted at all – silly me. I won’t worry one jot about the call I just received from the Sun asking me if I’d like to comment on “the sexual assault” of Ivana Trump by one of our clients. I am sure it is piffling, trivial, nothing at all to concern me. If it was anything more than a silly storm in a teacup you would be straight on the phone with a full and frank explanation. Wouldn’t you?
David Crutton – 1/12/00, 12:39pm
to: Harriet Greenbaum
cc:
re: LOVE
We have an impending crisis that threatens to engulf everything. See me now.
[email protected] 1/12/00, 12:40pm (7:40am local)
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: Coke
Harriet, I must say that I was impressed with your honest, yet sensitive, handling of Pertti. David also tells me that in Daniel’s absence you are running Coke with aplomb. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than to see a previously unsung member of the Miller Shanks family rise and shine.
I spoke to David a couple of days ago about having an early sight of the Coke strategy and creative. As yet he hasn’t sent it through – too busy running a top-20 agency, I guess! I’d be obliged if you could get the material to me as soon as possible. I have a wealth of experience on Pepsi from my days at BBDO so I might be able to make a modest contribution.
I look forward to hearing from you,
Jim Weissmuller
Harriet Greenbaum – 1/12/00, 12:42pm
to: David Crutton
cc:
re: LOVE
I’ve had something unexpected come up that I must deal with right away. I’ll be with you in five minutes.
[email protected] 1/12/00, 12:45pm
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: Coke
Dear Jim,
I’m honoured, but you are too kind. The handling of Pertti was very much down to David. I simply put my name to it.
I have instructed my PA to send you everything on Coca-Cola and it should be on your side of the Atlantic within the hour. Once you have had a chance to digest, perhaps we can discuss your thoughts over the phone. It goes without saying that I would value your opinion above anyone’s.
Sincerely,
Harriet Greenbaum
[email protected] 1/12/00, 1:13pm
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: STOP PRESS!
Jesus Fucking Christ, I’ve just come back from a snapper and read your e. I’m gagging for more. I haven’t been this eager for news since I camped outside the Palace waiting for word of Lady Di’s firstborn (A son, a son! Oh, how I rejoiced).
[email protected] 1/12/00, 1:22pm (5:22pm local)
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: STOP PRESS!
No further developments. Mel ordered us to stay in our room and speak to nobody, not even room service. She found out we’d blabbed to the Sun and she went crazy-apeshit. She’s scary as hell when she’s mad. Did you really camp outside the Palace? Sad bastard.
[email protected] 1/12/00, 1:24pm
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: STOP PRESS!
Gullible twat.
Harriet Greenbaum – 1/12/00, 1:38pm
to: David Crutton
cc:
re: LOVE
I have had a chance to think about this now and here is my suggested plan of action:
Forget repeated attempts to raise Dan or Simon on the phone. I mean no disrespect to either of them but both are panickers and liable to be less than candid when the going gets tough.
Instead, locate Melinda at the earliest opportunity and demand a full report. We can’t really proceed until we’re armed with all the facts. Of everybody out there she is the most level-headed and is likely to give it to us straight. I’ll call her if you like. We go back a long way and she won’t give me any bullshit.
Tell her that whatever else happens, we must finish the shoot – with or without the client’s co-operation. To pull the plug now would probably put us in breach of contract. Phone up the chief exec at LOVE and recommend a united front for now. It won’t help our cause or theirs if we’re chewing lumps out of each other.
Brief our lawyers at the earliest opportunity. I suspect that if this runs the course the writs will fly so thick and fast we won’t be able to duck quickly enough.
Impose an immediate blanket ban on all employees talking to the press about anything. All inquiries should be directed to you.
Finally, I went to university with an assistant editor at the Sun. If you like I’ll contact her, make some discreet inquiries as to what, if anything, they intend to run and see if I can put a Miller-Shanks-friendly spin on it.
Let me know what you think of the above and what further you would like me to do.
David Crutton – 1/12/00, 1:49pm
to: Harriet Greenbaum
cc:
re: LOVE
All good sense, Harriet. Thank you. Call Melinda now and report back as soon as you have spoken. Stress that the shoot must go on. Then phone your mate at the Scum and see what you can glean. While you’re at it you might point out to her how much money we spend with her rag on behalf of our clients – biting the hand that feeds them and all that. In the meantime, I’ll take care of your other points. I suggest we aim to meet in an hour or so to re-assess.
David Crutton – 1/12/00, 1:53pm
to: All Departments
cc:
re: NO COMMENT
I am not at liberty to divulge why at the moment, but no one must say anything to the press. I don’t care whether it’s The Times, the Sun or Angler’s Weekly. Any approaches from any journalists will be referred to me. To go against me on this is to court instant dismissal.
David Crut
ton
CEO
David Crutton – 1/12/00, 1:56pm
to: Zoë Clarke
cc:
re: Max Gregory
Call him the minute you finish stuffing that disgusting baked potato into your face. His number’s in the Rolodex under Hunter, McPhee & Partners. Tell him I need to see him immediately. That means this afternoon. I don’t care where he is – in conference, court, Val d’Isere, it doesn’t matter. If he tries to be elusive remind him not only of the hefty retainer we pay his practice of shysters, but also of the fact that his son has a blossoming career in advertising thanks to me.
[email protected] 1/12/00, 2:10pm (6:10pm local)
to: [email protected]
cc:
re: pants down
We’ve had the Sun snapper on our verandah taking shots of us through the window. Doesn’t look too good – the contents of the mini-bar are scattered on the bed and Vin is comatose on the floor in nothing but a Vivid Pictures Mondo Porno T-shirt. Worse still, I’ve got a bloody towel wrapped round my head and half a tub of Body Shop Mud Mask on my face – don’t even go there. Mel just hammered on the door. Dawn call tomorrow. Can you believe we’re gonna finish this shoot? I’d better rewrite this sodding script.
Harriet Greenbaum – 1/12/00, 2:11pm
to: David Crutton
cc:
re: LOVE
I’ve talked to Mel. The bullet points:
• Frank Sinton has spent the whole shoot on a pussy hunt and had goosed Mel, among others, on numerous occasions. Apparently the crew refer to him as Of Bug Eyes.
• Ivana Trump is holidaying in Mauritius.
• Mel is Ivana’s doppelganger – incontrovertible when you think about it.
• Frank saw Ivana basking on a sun lounger, claims he mistook her for Mel and did something to her in the cleavage area – exactly what is in dispute. His version is that he playfully placed a cold can on her chest. She alleges he attempted to work his hand into her bikini top.
• Ivana is deciding whether to make a formal complaint.
• The police have interviewed Frank and the witnesses.
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