Elimination Night - By Anonymous Page 0,78
near-impossible odds of going viral on YouTube. Negotiation wasn’t even a factor. To negotiate, you need something the other side wants, that it can’t get cheaper someplace else. Contestants don’t have that in their favor.
It’s the whole point of them.
Of all the Final Twelve, only Jimmy Nugget put up any serious resistance. Not that he did any of the complaining himself, of course. No, that was taken care of by his not-actually-so-dumb dad, Big Nugg, who had already shouldered his way into pretty much every meeting involving his son. (You’d glance behind you, and there he’d be, sweating and fussing, putting up his hand every other minute to ask a question.) Big Nugg described reading through his son’s ninety-three page contract as “like feelin’ all the flames in hell a-lickin’ at ma’ face”—which of course the lawyers took as a huge compliment. The document in question began as follows:
I, *PRINT NAME HERE*, grant Zero Management unconditional and irrevocable ownership, in perpetuity, throughout all possible universes, in the future and in the past, the sole and exclusive rights to my voice, image, name, likeness, traits, personality, life story, other biographical information, words, actions, original thoughts, catch-phrases, facial expressions, clothing, dance moves, sequences of dance moves, or any dancelike physical activity…
[thirty-eight pages later]
… and I agree that the during the making of Project Icon, the producers may inflict libel, slander, or any other emotional and/or physical and/or monetary distress upon me, based upon reality or entirely fictitious events…
[another twenty-four pages later]
… and that if I should disclose the terms of this agreement to anyone for any reason other than court-ordered subpoena it will constitute an act of massive and irreparable injury to Zero Management, Invasion Media, and the Rabbit Network, and I shall be liable for repayment of damages of up to a sum of five hundred million dollars…
[another thirty-one pages later]
… signed *SIGN AND PRINT NAME HERE*
The first time I read one of these contracts, I was disgusted—even though I’d had to sign a similarly worded nondisclosure agreement before taking my job on the show. I actually remember being pretty mad with Two Svens, who otherwise seemed like an okay-ish guy. It was Mitch, of all people, who later tried to explain to me why it was necessary to take eternal ownership of Icon’s annual cast of wannabes—who wanted fame more than they cared about getting a fair deal. “Look, Bill, every season, without fail, one of these kids gets their first whiff of success, some lawyer with hair plugs and a Porsche convinces them they’ve been screwed, and they file a lawsuit,” he said. “That’s why the contract is so tough. I’ve had my own clients sign the exact same kind of agreements. It lets you take more risks—invest more time and money in the talent, without always having to look over his shoulder. In a way, it protects those kids from themselves.”
“You don’t actually believe that bullshit, do you?” I laughed.
“Have you ever been sued?”
“No.”
“Well, let’s talk about this again when you have.”
End of discussion.
If Mitch had a point, Big Nugg didn’t see it. He just kept shaking his head, muttering to himself, and jiggling his legs with pent-up frustration. It was a clause on page sixty-four, regarding payment (or lack thereof) for Jimmy’s services while he was on the show that finally seemed to break his will to keep the peace. “Says here, ma’ boy gets paid nothin’—nothin’!—unless he wins the whole darn thing!” he exploded, after rising with a tremendous grunt from his chair. “What the heck kind of a scam you folks runnin’ here? He’d earn more as a goddamn fruit picker!”
I wondered if Big Nugg had missed the part which said that if even in the event Jimmy did win, his prize would be five hundred dollars as “full and final consideration,” set against expenses for flights, accommodation, food, and clothing throughout the season, which meant he would actually end up with nothing. Actually, less than nothing: Whatever negative balance remained would be taken out of his earnings, assuming there were any. That’s why only two contestants in Project Icon’s history, both winners, had ever received any kind of paycheck.
The attorneys (seven in total) looked at one another carefully, faking concern. Then one of them spoke: “We completely understand if Jimmy doesn’t want to sign.”
This took the fight out of Big Nugg almost instantly.
“… you do?” he said.
“Oh, of course!” the lawyer soothed. “He should never sign anything he’s not comfortable with.” Then, with a