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🕑 Added 2025-05-25 16:41:27 +0000 UTCChapter 205: Buying Into Pixar
Google’s on a roll. Even with the tech industry slumping, they’re bucking the trend—now the biggest internet search platform out there. They’ve even elbowed out KTI Search to become Yahoo’s default engine.
Over at X, Elon Musk’s steering the ship with a bold new strategy. Step one: snapping up Nfinity.
Once that deal’s done, the new outfit will dominate the online payment game.
Elon’s buzzing when he fills Dunn in. If the acquisition goes smooth, he’s renaming it “PayPal”—and it might even go public in three years!
As for Dunn’s biggest investment, Apple…
Jobs and Dunn set up a second meet, this time at Dunn’s office.
Dunn shoos away his secretary and pours Jobs a coffee himself. “It’s a little cold—hope you don’t mind.”
Jobs shrugs like it’s no big deal. “You know I’m not here for the coffee.”
Dunn chuckles and sits across from him. “I made my stance clear last time. In Silicon Valley, I’ve got your back—big time. In return, I’m hoping you’ll throw some support my way in Hollywood.”
It’s a trade, so Dunn cuts the small talk and gets straight to it.
Jobs nods, then frowns. “I like that deal. Pixar’s cool, but Apple’s my real dream—my big chase. Thing is, dreams don’t always match reality.”
Dunn gets it—Pixar’s his cash cow. He smiles. “We hashed this out before. I can wait… until you think the timing’s right to sell Pixar to me. But I’d like some security—like how I can sign over Apple’s voting rights to you.”
“Oh?”
Jobs perks up at the mention of Apple’s voting rights.
Dunn’s a major shareholder with serious sway. If he backs Jobs fully, Jobs’ spot at Apple’s locked in.
“What kind of security you after? First dibs on buying?”
Dunn shakes his head. “What if there’s a hostile bidder? That doesn’t work for me.”
“Your plan, then?”
“A stake in Pixar!”
Jobs’ eyes narrow slightly—Dunn’s answer isn’t a shock. He sighs. “Looks like you’re dead-set on Pixar.”
“Damn right! I’ve told you—Hollywood’s my core. I’m a movie guy. I’m the one who can breathe real life into Pixar.” Dunn’s half-serious, half-bullshitting.
Jobs sips his coffee and smirks. “You’re too full of yourself!”
Dunn grins, shameless. “In the movie biz, I’ve earned that swagger.”
Jobs mulls it over, then nods. “I’ll give you 10% max, and you’re just an independent director.”
Dunn exhales, a flicker of excitement sparking inside.
Animation… Pixar…
After all his hustling, he’s finally got a foot in the door!
Dunn laughs. “Independent director’s perfect—keeps me out of the weeds. I’m the same at Google and Hasbro.”
Jobs keeps it cool. “But Pixar’s movie distribution stays with Disney.”
“No way!”
Dunn’s face hardens, shutting that down fast.
Jobs glances at him. “Not Disney? What, Dunn Films? You got the channels for that? Besides, this isn’t even worth debating now. Pixar’s fourth flick, Monsters, Inc., is locked in for next November—three-way contract’s already signed.”
Dunn’s expression sours.
Jobs waves it off with a sigh. “I get it—you’ve got beef with Disney. I’ve got my own issues with them! But business isn’t personal. Right now, Disney’s the best fit for Pixar’s interests. And like I said, it’s just five films with them.”
“What about the fifth one?”
“The next one’s still in prep—probably two or three years out.”
Dunn’s eye twitches, his mood lifting a bit.
Two or three years… plenty of time to maneuver.
Monsters, Inc. is set for next year, but distribution deals with theaters are a tangled mess—huge penalties for breaking them. Too late to mess with that now.
The next one, though? No way Dunn’s letting that slip.
If he remembers right, Pixar’s fifth is Finding Nemo—the animated juggernaut that outgrossed The Lion King to become the biggest of all time.
No matter what, Disney’s not getting that one.
“Alright, deal! Once I’ve got the distribution muscle and promo channels, I’m buying out Pixar’s deal with Disney and switching it to Dunn Films. Don’t back out!”
Dunn’s eyes lock onto Jobs, sharp and steady.
Jobs acts like he didn’t hear, sipping his coffee slow. After twenty seconds, he drawls, “That’s the next condition, huh?”
Dunn blinks, then nods. “Yep. Your turn—what do you need from me?”
Before, Dunn traded Apple’s voting rights for 10% of Pixar. Now it’s round two.
“Hollywood’s your game, Silicon Valley’s mine,” Jobs says. “Since I’m bending so much for you in Hollywood, I want you to step up for Apple too.”
“Name it—anything I can do!”
Jobs leans in. “The dot-com crash is brutal—it might drag on. Apple’s market share… let’s just say I haven’t cracked the fix yet. Stock’s gonna swing hard.”
Dunn catches on quick. “You want me to steady the stock price?”
A stable stock is Jobs’ lifeline for shareholder support.
If it tanks, even with Dunn’s backing, he could still get the boot.
Dunn smirks to himself—Jobs is way too shaky.
Maybe he can’t even dream how much he’ll flip the world upside down in the next decade.
Jobs grins. “I don’t want Apple dipping below $10. You scooped up a bunch on the secondary market a while back—pushed it to $14. But the hype’s faded, and it’s sliding.”
Dunn plays coy. “Apple’s huge—me alone? That’s tough. I’ve made bank in stocks, but I’ve sunk a lot into other projects lately. Cash is tight.”
“I’ll toss in 15% of Pixar at the current stock price!” Jobs doubles down, bold as hell.
Right now, Jobs holds 70% of Pixar, employees have 15%, and the rest is with small-time investors.
Giving Dunn 15% leaves Jobs with 55%—still total control. Even if Dunn teamed up with Pixar execs for a backstab, Jobs wouldn’t blink.
Dunn bursts out laughing, jumps up, and pulls Jobs into a big hug.
“Happy deal!”
He means it—pure, pumped-up satisfaction.
Buying Apple stock? Jobs didn’t even need to ask—Dunn’s been itching for a solid excuse to pitch the board.
Jobs’ terms are like a warm hug on a cold day!
And get this—to seal the deal, Jobs throws in another 5% of Pixar, making it 15% total. Ballsy move!
Pixar’s at $105 a share now, 100 million shares—market cap’s about $12.9 billion.
Dunn Capital can snag 15% for $1.9 billion and get a head start on privatizing Pixar later.
For Dunn, this is a steal—worth every penny!
“Oh, by the way,” Jobs adds, “your office could use a computer. How about I throw in an Apple one, free?”
“No spyware installed, right?”
“Huh?”
Jobs blinks, thrown by Dunn’s wild leap.
Spyware’s illegal, dude.
Dunn cracks up. “Kidding! I’ll take the computer!”
Chapter 206: I’ve Got an Old Colleague
Steve Jobs couldn’t have been happier with Dunn’s suggestion to buy up Apple stock—it was like someone handing him a pillow just as he was dozing off. Perfect timing.
And speaking of timing, when luck’s on your side, even a sip of cold water feels refreshing!
By August, Spider-Man had been in theaters for a full 40 days, racking up $440 million in North America and $620 million overseas—a global haul of $1.06 billion! Just as the media predicted a month ago when it debuted, it became the third film ever to cross the $1 billion mark worldwide, following Titanic and Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace. And the director?
Dunn—again!
This superhero flick, which plenty of pros had doubted, etched itself into film history as a textbook commercial blockbuster. Dunn had heard that over the past few weeks, schools like USC’s School of Cinematic Arts, the American Film Institute, Columbia University’s School of the Arts, Syracuse University, and Chapman University had all launched new research projects around Spider-Man. Even NYU’s Tisch School of Arts—usually too snooty for Hollywood—coughed up $2 million for a study called “On the Rhythm and Narrative Flow of Spider-Man-Related Cinema”.
Dunn Walker’s name wasn’t just ringing out in the profit-driven halls of Hollywood anymore. After a string of wins, this commercial director had landed in the textbooks of art schools. That’s a miracle in itself! Even the legendary Steven Spielberg only made it into academia with Schindler’s List, not his popcorn hits like Jaws, Raiders of the Lost Ark, or E.T..
Back in April, Dunn couldn’t catch a break—targeted by the feds, investigated by the FBI, screwed over by Disney and Fox. Even the Cannes Film Festival debated yanking Girl, Interrupted from competition, not wanting a “criminal suspect’s” work in the mix. But by July, the tide turned. August? It was a lucky streak for the ages.
Beyond Spider-Man’s box office domination, Dunn Capital snagged 18.45 million Pixar shares for $1.9 billion, making Dunn the second-biggest shareholder behind Jobs. At Apple’s shareholder meeting, they voted him onto the board as an independent director, with over 78% backing Jobs’ bold reform and revival plans. Mr. & Mrs. Smith kicked off filming in the U.S., scoring at least $15 million in tax rebates thanks to Luc Besson’s French connections. Add in nearly $20 million from car, clothing, and cosmetics sponsorships, and the film—nominally a $100 million Dunn Pictures investment—had its real cost slashed to $65 million. That’s the perk of big stars and modern blockbuster standards.
But the real cherry on top? Bill Mechanic. He’s the one who made Dunn feel like luck was truly on his side. Dunn still had one nagging issue: building a full, independent film distribution arm for Dunn Pictures. Bill Mechanic was like a lifeline. “Dunn, I’ve got someone to recommend—perfect for the job opening we’ve got.”
At first, Dunn didn’t think much of it, chuckling, “Not another one of your old crew, right?”
Bill Mechanic’s face flushed, and he waved it off with an awkward grin. “Well… yeah, it is!”
Dunn straightened up. “Bill, I was just kidding. If it’s good for the company, you can bring in your whole old squad—I don’t care!”
Bill Mechanic nodded calmly, easing into it. “You know how Fox released Titan A.E. this summer? Big flick—cost close to $100 million with marketing, but it barely scraped $12 million worldwide. Total disaster. It’s already out of North American theaters, and Fox is scrambling to calm the shareholders with a blame game.”
Dunn snorted. “Tom Rothman wanted a showdown, huh? That’s what he gets for crossing me. Is he stepping down? Hah—serves him right!”
Bill Mechanic sighed, shaking his head. “Tom’s not me. He’s got his private playbook ready.”
“Huh?” Dunn blinked, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Fight Club lost $40 million and they canned you—a Fox veteran. Titan A.E. bombed so hard they’re in the red up to their necks, and Tom Rothman’s still sitting pretty?”
“That’s the thing,” Bill said, a mix of resignation and clarity on his face. “Power games? Guys like him—suits from the admin side—they’re pros at it.” He’d come to terms with it: when Rothman ousted him, it wasn’t unfair. When it came to movies, Bill knew he could hold his own against anyone. But power plays? He had to hand it to Rothman. For Titan A.E. to flop that badly and Rothman to still be chilling as 20th Century Fox’s chairman and CEO? That took skill.
Dunn picked up on the undertone in Bill’s words. “So… Rothman found a fall guy?”
Bill nodded firmly. “Yup.”
Dunn took a sharp breath, quietly impressed by Rothman’s maneuvering. Good thing his beef with Fox was mostly on the movie front—out in the open, a straight-up fight. Quality films with solid buzz guaranteed market share; no backroom tricks could touch that. That was Dunn’s ace in the hole—he never lost there.
But in the behind-the-scenes stuff? He wasn’t so sure, and he’d taken hits before. Take Mattel’s classic Barbie doll, for example. Late last month, Mattel announced a deal with Disney to create a “Disney Princess” toy line. They also said they’d launch Mattel Animation Studios to independently develop Barbie cartoons. Translation: they were telling the world they wouldn’t team up with Dunn Pictures for a strategic toy IP deal like Hasbro did. They were going solo, taking on Hollywood alone.
To a lot of industry insiders, that was a laughable pipe dream. An outsider breaking into Hollywood without a major player’s backing? Good luck. Maybe Mattel’s execs thought their Disney deal meant they’d get help from Disney’s animation team. If so, they might as well all quit now.
When Dunn tried to buy into Nickelodeon, Viacom shut it down, scared of letting a tiger loose—even if it meant risking Disney’s encroachment. Did Mattel really think Disney wouldn’t see them coming? Barbie and Disney Princesses were already rivals, targeting the same crowd. Toy competition was one thing—small potatoes for Disney. But if Mattel dared put Barbie on the big screen to challenge the Disney Princesses? Pure fantasy. Disney never held back when it came to crushing rivals.
Dunn’s jab at The Sixth Sense star Bruce Willis had snowballed into an all-out war with Disney. If Mattel Animation dared roll out a Barbie movie series, Disney would cut ties instantly and come down hard. Simple logic said Mattel Animation wouldn’t get a big film off the ground—maybe some cheap kids’ cartoons or TV movies for a children’s channel, but nothing with real clout.
Every time Dunn thought about it, he felt bad for Mattel’s execs—pitiful, tragic, shortsighted. They had a goldmine IP like Barbie and didn’t know how to tap it. Obsessed with the crumbs from Disney Princess toys, they were blind to Barbie’s massive potential. What a waste!
On the flip side, it showed Disney’s brass had sharp eyes and slick moves. Just licensing “Disney Princess” to Mattel killed off a dangerous rival’s shot at the big screen while smashing Dunn’s animation and IP plans in one go. Two birds, one stone—brilliant.
It taught Dunn a lesson: petty tricks wouldn’t topple giants like Disney or Fox. They might sting for a minute, but shaking their foundations? No chance. To win this game, he’d need raw power and a bold, open strategy—grabbing market share they couldn’t block. It’d take time. Good thing Dunn was young.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Dunn refocused on Bill Mechanic. From their quick chat, he’d pieced it together: Rothman had pinned the blame on someone at Fox. And that scapegoat? Bill had his eye on them, wanting to bring them to Dunn Pictures to shine.
Titan A.E.’s flop was brutal—whoever took the fall had to be high up at Fox. If not Rothman, at least a VP-level exec. Dunn was curious—who was this talent Bill had in mind?
Chapter 207: You’re Too Rude
Right now, Dunn Films has 197 full-time employees, including more than 40 who used to work under Bill Mechanic.
However, the company’s top brass is mostly made up of Dunn’s old crew—people like Andrew O’Hare, Manohla Dargis, Sherry Hershler, Nina Jacobson, Glenn Feyero, Bryce Roach, Jonathan Nolan, and Alan Ball, to name a few.
It’s not that Bill Mechanic lacks connections; he’s just being cautious. Even though Dunn’s been willing to delegate some power, this is still Dunn’s private company at the end of the day. Bill Mechanic currently holds a lot of sway, but if he filled all the key positions with his own people, it could look like he’s building a hidden power base. He doesn’t want Dunn to get suspicious.
That said, things are different now. The person he’s about to recommend is genuinely talented—someone who could bring a ton of value to Dunn Films if they came on board.
So, even if it risks Dunn getting the wrong idea, Bill Mechanic feels compelled to put this name forward.
Dunn grinned, his eyes practically sparkling with excitement. “Fired unfairly by Fox? Then he’s probably got a chip on his shoulder. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right? So, who is he?”
“West Cotton,” Bill replied.
Dunn raised an eyebrow. The name didn’t ring a bell.
Bill Mechanic took his time explaining. “Years back, West worked in the consumer products division at B Group. Then, in the ‘90s, he jumped ship to Fox. In 1994, Twentieth Century Fox set up a new outfit called Fox Searchlight—a company like Miramax, focused on producing and distributing niche indie films.”
Dunn’s eyes lit up. “West Cotton was in charge?”
Bill shook his head. “No, the president of Fox Searchlight at the time was Tom Rothman. But West played a big role—he was the one who built their distribution department from the ground up.”
Dunn got goosebumps from sheer excitement.
Wasn’t he just looking for someone to help Dunn Films establish its own indie film distribution arm? West Cotton sounded like the perfect guy—exactly what he needed right now!
Bill ignored Dunn’s giddy expression and kept going. “Fox Searchlight turned into a huge success. In just two years, they pulled in over $20 million in profit and racked up 12 Oscar nominations. Thanks to that track record, Tom Rothman got promoted to president of Twentieth Century Fox. As for West Cotton, he climbed the ranks too—eventually becoming president of the distribution department and global marketing director.”
Dunn’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you’re telling me he was the head of distribution at Twentieth Century Fox?”
“That’s not all,” Bill said. “He was also the marketing director, overseeing promotion, marketing—the whole deal. You’ve seen how well Twentieth Century Fox’s movies have done at the box office these past few years. You know what he’s capable of.”
Dunn nodded firmly. “Got it! Bill, reach out to him right away. Set up a meeting at Dunn Films—no, not an interview. Just say I’d like to have a chat with him.”
“Alright,” Bill said with a slight smile. He admired Dunn’s knack for staying humble despite his success.
For a young guy with such impressive achievements to still show that kind of modesty—especially toward talent that could help him—was pretty remarkable. Even if that humility only extended to people who were useful to him, it was still enough.
…
Dunn had just moved into his new place—Hillside Manor.
He didn’t call it “Dunn Manor” because, to him, this was just a temporary spot. He’d already tasked George Paxton with finding a location to build a real top-tier estate from scratch.
The name “Hillside Manor” came from its spot halfway up the highest slope south of Beverly Hills. Sure, it was temporary, but in a place like Beverly Hills—where every inch of land is worth a fortune—the sheer size of the property was extravagant. The layout and design were grand and imposing too. Even among the sea of tycoons in Beverly Hills, this place stood out as a top-tier mansion.
To buy Hillside Manor, Dunn had shelled out a whopping $42.5 million!
It was easily one of the priciest mansion sales in Beverly Hills in recent years. Rumor had it the previous owner paid $4.5 million just in taxes!
The estate sprawled over 5,000 hectares, styled after an 18th-century Northwest Pacific coast manor. Inside, there were 9 bedrooms, 12 bathrooms, 6 dining rooms, a domed library, a reception hall, and a Dolby theater. Plus, it had a display room, gym, small bar, KTV lounge, a mini kids’ playground, wine cellar, and dance floor—the works.
After settling in, Dunn threw a housewarming party, inviting some of his closest friends and work buddies to share the moment.
Since it was a proper party, Taylor Swift showed up too, brought along by her mom.
Little Taylor’s house was big, sure, but compared to Dunn’s Hillside Manor, it was like night and day.
The second she spotted Dunn, she bolted over, not caring that he was mid-conversation with some “uncle.” She bounced around, practically shouting, “Dunn, this place is amazing! I’m obsessed! There’s even a fishpond over there with all these gorgeous fish!”
Dunn pressed a hand on her shoulder and lowered his voice. “Mind your manners, Taylor. Didn’t you notice all the grown-ups around?”
Taylor pouted, brushing it off. “Aren’t they just your employees? What’s the big deal?”
Dunn frowned. “Taylor, you can’t talk like that. They’re my colleagues. Everyone’s equal here.”
“Men and women too?” She smirked, covering her mouth playfully.
Dunn blinked, caught off guard. “Of course they are! Not just men and women—races, classes, everything. Didn’t they teach you that in school?”
“Yeah, but that’s just textbook stuff. It’s not real life,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
Dunn got stern. “Equality is real life, Taylor. At your age, you need to build the right values.”
She huffed. “But in Titanic, it wasn’t equal at all! Poor Jack—he died in the ocean just because he was lower-class and a guy.”
Dunn sweat-dropped, totally thrown. “What are you even talking about? Titanic was a hundred years ago! Sure, they had class divides back then, but not anymore. And Jack’s death had nothing to do with gender!”
“It totally did! He could’ve survived, but he gave Rose his spot,” Taylor shot back, sounding way too confident. Even at her age, she had a knack for words—poetry, singing, acting, debating, you name it.
Dunn stared at her, then crouched down, softening his tone. “That’s because of love, kiddo. You’re still young—you don’t get adult love yet. Jack gave Rose his chance to live not because men and women aren’t equal, but because love can be bigger than life itself.”
Taylor tilted her head, nibbling on a finger. “So, did Rose love Jack?”
“Of course. Rose loved him just as much.”
“Then why didn’t she give him the chance to live? Even if he said no, they could’ve died together—like Romeo and Juliet, going out for love!”
Dunn’s jaw dropped. He… had no comeback.
Just then, her mom, Andrea Swift, walked over, giving Dunn a look that screamed help me.
This kid was a handful, no question.
And as Dunn scrambled for a way to reason with her, Taylor hit him with another zinger that nearly sent him running.
“Natalie only has you as a boyfriend, but you’ve got tons of girlfriends. Is that equal?”
Andrea Swift caught Dunn’s awkward expression and snapped, “Taylor, you’re being way too rude!”
Taylor’s lip quivered, her eyes welling up as she stared at Dunn.
He sighed, patting her head. “You’ll get it when you’re older, little one.”
Standing up, he turned to Andrea. “Why don’t you take her for a spin around the place? There’s a piano over there—she could play something.”
Andrea chuckled. “Nah, she’s only had a few lessons. She’d just embarrass herself.”
As Andrea dragged a still-pouting Taylor away, Leonardo DiCaprio strolled over, grinning ear to ear. He sized Dunn up, his expression sly, and whispered, “New taste?”
Dunn frowned. “What’re you talking about?”
Leo rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb! We’ve known each other how long? I know how your mind works.”
Dunn laughed, exasperated. “Leo, you drunk already? What nonsense are you spouting?”
“Two tequilas, that’s it,” Leo scoffed, then leaned in. “She’s a cute kid, sure, but… I’d watch yourself. Don’t end up like Woody Allen—”
“Stop right there!”
Dunn cut him off, glaring. “Leo, quit talking crap. You think I’m that guy?”
“Yup,” Leo nodded, dead serious.
“Get lost!”
Dunn kicked his shin, fuming. “One more word, and I’ll find a chance to hook up with Gisele!”
“You… you…”
Leo’s no stranger to shady friends, but Dunn’s shamelessness was next-level. His face flushed red, finger jabbing at Dunn, speechless.
Seeing him squirm, Dunn burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Gisele Bündchen sauntered over, cocktail in hand, her figure stunning and her vibe effortlessly charming.
“Let’s go!”
Leo didn’t even let Dunn answer, grabbing Gisele’s arm to bolt. “This guy’s a jerk. Being friends with him is the biggest regret of my life.”
“Sweetie, how can you say that? That’s so rude,” Gisele said, shaking him off with a frown before flashing Dunn a smile.
Dunn grinned back, holding in a laugh. “No worries. Leo and I rag on each other all the time. Gisele, how about a drink?”
“Sure!” she chirped, oblivious to the chaos.
Leo’s face twisted like he’d swallowed something bitter, pleading, “Alright, Dunn, I’m sorry! I take it back—just don’t mess with me…”
Before he could finish, Dunn doubled over, howling with laughter.
Leo’s expression went from green to purple—quite the show.
Gisele blinked, confused. “Dunn? Leo? What’s going on?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Leo mumbled with a forced smile. “Just messing around.”
As he spoke, he stomped hard on Dunn’s shiny new shoe.
“Ow!”
Gisele froze at Dunn’s yelp, her eyes darting between them, half-annoyed, half-amused.
Just like Kate Winslet always said: put these two together, and trouble’s guaranteed.
