Business Doctors - Management Consulting Gone Wild (9 page)

BOOK: Business Doctors - Management Consulting Gone Wild
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“How long does it take you guys to finish a movie?” Martin wanted to know.

“Usually a few weeks. Most get wrapped up in under a month. It’s important that we maximize the number of movies we roll out from our stables. Quality is always important, but if you really want to make money, so is quantity. Besides the Russian, Spanish, Greek, Italian variations, there’s not much innovation that you can find in movies of this genre.”

“What do you mean by Russian, Spanish…,” Martin seemed confused.

Lenny looked at Schneider, “Your friend here doesn’t appear to be much of an adult movie fan.”

He then turned back at Martin, “I was talking about technique. Motion of the ocean, ya know. You need to spend more time on the internet. Educate yourselves.” Lenny made an obscene gesture with his tongue and his fingers to demonstrate what he was talking about.

Martin realized his queries were too basic to get Lenny interested. He’d have to be content with the cryptic and vague responses.

“On an average, how much does it cost to make a movie?” he changed tracks.

“I’d say around forty grand. But that would just be the average. Compare that to your regular multimillion dollar Hollywood capers.”

Comparisons with its neighbor next door appeared to be a favorite sport here.

“On a broader range, our movie budgets could be between twenty to seventy grand and depend on the location, the sets, the actors. We normally stick to our own list of actors, as the more popular ones charge a premium. Our regular actors have been loyal to us and don’t hike up their fees without warning. The new ones are very unpredictable.”

“Oh,” said Martin and made a few notes in his pad. “Cost conscious industry, like the rest, eh?”

“Right. There are other costs as well, that our friends in Hollywood don’t have to bear – for example, regular medical checkups, sanitation and cleanliness on sets, and a few others. You’ll find that many of the production houses stick to low-key facilities for their shoots. These are usually commercial or private locations.”

“So no crowds to watch over the proceedings,” Schneider added his two cents.

“Yeah. Contrary to what people believe, we don’t always enjoy too much attention. We stay away from the public eye and prefer doing our work in isolation. We are artists, performers. Not exhibitionists. Well, that goes for most of us…can’t speak for everyone in the industry. There are bound to be exceptions.” 

The trio continued walking
towards what looked like a run-down shed.

“Many of the stars we have in this industry can give their mainstream counterparts a run for their money, whether it’s the fan-base, the recognition or the celebritydom. Let me introduce you to one of them.”

As Martin wondered whether
celebritydom
was a real word, his attention was diverted by a tall blonde who came out of the shed to meet them. Her obvious implants did a good job of moving her body’s center of gravity and many of the eyeballs around her towards her chest. The make-up was garish and over the top. The stilettos were too high for comfort. Martin wasn’t sure if the overdose of botox was really needed. It gave her face a stretched, plastic look. Not very different from the life sized inflatable doll that was gifted to him by his buddies on his eighteenth birthday. His doll’s pout seemed to have been transplanted on the lady who stood before them. In what seemed as an attempt to fulfill her fans’ adolescent fantasies, she was also wearing a very similar dress, an itsy bitsy pink dress which barely managed to contain her ample chestal appendages as well as her well endowed posterior. It was clear that she was in character, waiting for the action to begin.

“Guys…meet Maxxxie,” Lenny introduced the lady.

“Hello, I’m Schneider and this is my colleague Martin.”

Martin took a quick look at her oversized breasts and looked away as he pulled out his pad and a pen.

“It’s ok loverboy. You can look at them. I get paid for showing them off. They help me pay my bills. You don’t look at them, I go hungry. And you don’t want that do you?” she purred in an artificial tone, with an accent that suggested that she was probably from across the border.

She then looked at Schneider and asked, “Are you guys from some newspaper doing an article on the pathetic plight of exploited, aging porn stars?”

“Not really. We are just trying to understand how it works around here,” Schneider tried to avoid getting into the details.

“Hey Maxxxie…let’s keep it simple here. For the next fifteen minutes, they ask the questions and you answer them. Awright?”

“Sure, boss,” Maxxxie responded. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you get involved in this business?”

“Lenny was a friend of a friend. I met him at a party and he mentioned that he was acting in a MILF series and the producer was looking for fresh talent where the carpet matched the drapes…”

“Carpet?” Martin wasn’t sure he heard it right.

“…Natural blondes,” Maxxxie clarified. “…and I thought it was good money for something that I enjoy anyway. So I said
why not.
A little bit of adventure wouldn’t hurt.”

“And I’d guess after all these years, the money is still good.”

“The money from videos is good. I get a grand a scene…if I’m lucky. But the other side activities actually pay better.”

“What other activities?”

“I mean…the commercials, club appearances, autograph signings at special events, promoting other videos, magazines, books, products, and from time to time, a few special personal erotic services,” Maxxxie clarified. “Have you seen the commercial for Bunny Pills on late night TV…well, that’s me on the mechanical bull. Looks like I am having fun on it. But after fifty-three retakes it isn’t all that fun. Thanks to my bruised inner thighs, I had to take a week off after that shoot. So all in all, the money I got wasn’t that great really.”

Lenny, possibly feeling neglected, pitched in, “I don’t know if anyone has done a survey, but I’d say we may very well be the largest consumers of KY Jelly, freshmint, Viagra and condoms on this side of the planet…though, not
necessarily in that order. We also help sell most of the products that we consume.”

On realizing that he may have unintentionally trivialized their role, he added,
“On a more serious note, safety is a concern for our business and we do take precautions. Of course, in an industry as big as this, there are bound to be exceptions. Some producers insist on bareback riding. That sends a shiver down our spines. There have been a few stories doing its rounds…medical crisis in the industry. Infections, deaths. When such a thing happens, it’s no longer about a few people, the entire industry goes into shock, and it takes time to get back to normal. As I said, all of this keeps piling on the costs.”

Realizing they had ignored Lenny for quite some time, Schneider asked, “Do you manage the actors’ career outside movies as well?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you act as their agent and get them into commercials, club appearances, autograph signings…”

Lenny shook his head, “We don’t.”

“Some agents I know from the industry approach me whenever there’s work.” Maxxxie clarified.

The experience has been good. It helped me grow, as an actress, as a woman…” Maxxxie paused and then added, “- from a D to a Double-F. I’ve gone under the knife twice in three years. But it’s not just the girls who resort to external help to enhance their appeal. Right, Lenny?”

Lenny pretended to be busy with his phone.

“Are there any days that you don’t feel like going for a shoot?” Martin asked Maxxxie.

“There’s not much you can do when Aunt Flo comes visiting. Also, it’s always tough when you have to work with assholes you don’t get along with. But you gotta do it if you need money.”

Lenny had stopped fiddling with his phone and joined back in the conversation, “She’s right. You may be humping someone who’s not your type and still expected to act like they are your only route to salvation. And then there are times when your wiener just gives up on you in front of a packed studio. ‘
Ok, I’m done. Pack up
,’ it says and you go ‘
Hey wait…wake up…not right now.
’ Just some of the hazards of working in this industry. However nowadays that is less of an issue. We have blue pills to fall back on.”

“Maxxxie, your shot’s ready,” someone called out from behind a half opened door.

“Ok guys, gotta go.” Maxxie started walking towards the camera. After a few steps she stopped, turned around and asked Schneider. “You think you’d be interested in a guest appearance?”

Seeing the stunned expression on Schneider’s face, Maxxxie added, “Awww…Come on, don’t be shy. You have the physique of a porn star…a little bit of help and you are right there.”

“I don’t think so,” Schneider said, wondering whether actors had the liberty to take the calls on behalf of the casting director.

“Don’t worry Schneider, it’s not what you think. It’s a pub shot and they need extras to fill up the set,” Lenny sensed Schneider’s discomfort.

Schneider did not respond.

Maxxxie turned to Martin, “You want to convince your friend, loverboy? You could join in as well. It’ll make your mother proud…though I’m not assuming she watches adult movies.”

“Let’s do it, Michael,” Martin tried one more time.

“You go ahead, Martin. I don’t mind waiting for you till the scene is over,” Schneider seemed to have dug in his heels and was not ready to budge.

“Let’s go, Martin,” Maxxxie gestured seductively at Martin with her finger. “We’ll give your friend reason to get jealous.”

“Gimme a second,” Martin headed in the direction of the toilet. In a few seconds he was back with his fake moustache back on his face and a noticeable bulge in his pants. “Ok, let’s go.”

“You came prepared for this?” Schneider shook his head in disbelief.

“That’s my motto…always be prepared.” Martin had pulled his paunch in and flexed his arms a little to look bigger.

“And what’s that in your pants?” Schneider was still under shock.

Martin had never had so many people simultaneously looking at his crotch, ignoring the pre-primary days in school when he hadn’t perfected the art of bladder control.

Martin held his trousers at the knees and lifted it up to reveal his ankles. One leg had a sock and the other didn’t.

“The moustache can stay, Martin. It’s kinda cute. But the sock’s definitely gotta go back to where it belongs. This looks ridiculous.” Maxxxie grabbed Martin’s crotch as if she’d pull out the sock right there.

An embarrassed Martin eased out of her grip slowly. Maxxxie’s direct feedback had made the impact she desired.

“Give me another second,” Martin went back into the toilet looking a little disappointed.

* * *

 

A couple of hours later, Lenny walked out of the set with Schneider and Martin in tow.

“You were a rock-star, Martin,” Maxxxie blew out a kiss to Martin.

“Shooting is hard-work.” Martin wiped his brow.

“Martin, all you did was stand in a corner with a glass in hand while the main actors did their job,” Schneider didn’t seem too impressed with Martin’s performance.

“Just wait till you see how it turns out after they finish the editing and add the music.” Martin slowly peeled off the moustache from his face and kept it carefully back in his pocket, ready for another day, another adventure.

* * *

 

Richard called up a week later. “Hey Michael. This is Rich. You got time to talk?”

“Yeah, sure Rich.”

“Our team has analyzed the video recordings. I have to say that’s one of the most pathetic video qualities I’ve ever seen. What kind of clients are you working for
, Michael? You’ve got to advise them to use better cameras.”

“I know,” Schneider replied with no intentions of providing any justifications. “Any interesting findings?”

“You bet. When are you coming over to discuss them? Or we could come over to your office, if you’d prefer.”

“How about post-lunch today at our office?”

“Today looks difficult. How about tomorrow?”

“Hang on a minute. Let me check my schedule…got a meeting in the morning…post-lunch is relatively free…we’ll be there at two, if that’s ok with you.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow then.”

 

Chapter 8

“Alright, so what have we got here, let’s see your pitch”, said Schneider energetically. This was the part he loved, to really put his heart and soul in making a presentation his clients would love. They were back in their offices, a day before the meeting with WFB. Martin pulled out his seventy-page presentation deck smugly and was feeling at top of the world.

“I think the story line is we display this bar-chart showing a steady decline in their casino business, and label it with a negative CAGR. That should get us their attention. We can then move on to our issue tree, and move through nodes, so they clearly understand how they make, or rather lose, money. We then have pages explaining the various branches and our analysis. For instance, we will speak a little about how we have used Monte Carlo simulations to understand the probabilistic nuances behind all of their gambling options, and then we’ll indicate to them that the reason for their casino business ailing is that the average profit per customer is low, which, upon further analysis, shows that the efficiency ratio is unusually high.” Martin rattled it off without taking a breath. He knew he had nailed it perfectly this time.

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there. The usual shenanigans will not work with these guys. All we’ll achieve is more dumb-faced Joe-like expressions in the meeting. We have to make this very very simple and avoid all jargon. Remember the first rule of a good presentation, know your audience”, Schneider said, a bit flustered, struggling to understand why Martin still did not make the perfect pitches after all these years.

Martin cursed under his breath and sent a short text to Anita while Schneider went back to the white-board to draw a fresh story line. Martin knew that Anita would be mad at him for cancelling another date to spend the night with his boss. And they toiled away into the wee hours working the deck.

“Ok, Schneider. We are all here, and we are all ears. Enlighten us with your wisdom,” Woody’s voice boomed in a room that was not designed for acoustic perfection.

He was the last to walk into the Dungeon, as always. He made himself comfortable in his majestic chair at the end of the long table. All the other chairs in the room looked the same. But Woody’s aristocratic throne stood out, head and shoulders above the rest, just like its master. He had specially got it custom built for himself. It was his way of reminding the lesser mortals around him that he was the boss.

Schneider gestured to Martin who was waiting for the cue to switch on the projector. Woody’s team had by now become used to the consultants switching on the laptop and the projector. Martin completed his ritual again before uttering a single word.

This time around, there were no cheesy comments from anyone. It appeared like results-day in school and all were impatiently waiting. Whether it was to hear what the consultants had to say or in preparation for the looming blame game wasn’t too apparent.

Before Woody had come in, his cronies eyed the men from Schneider Associates suspiciously. Though they tried to make small talk, the atmosphere in the Dungeon was as if small personal tornados
were hovering over each of the heads present in the room. Everyone was charged up and taking half breaths in anticipation of the impending revelations, and the excitement, doom or despair they might bring.

“Gentlemen,” Schneider started. “There’s good news and there’s bad news for WFB - and if I have your permission, I’d like to deliver them both without any sugar-coating. The good news is that the company hasn’t gone down the drain yet.”

“That’s the good news?” Phil voiced the question everyone in the room had in their mind.

Schneider knew he had captured everyone’s attention in the room with his opening statement. A little bit of sarcasm was permissible. It was a skill he had mastered over several years as a consultant. He knew this was imperative to get off to a dramatic start, if he had to sustain their interest for the rest of his revelation session.

“Yes. You are lucky that WFB is still in business. Contrary to the popular belief within this team, the recent downturn in the economy has got nothing to do with the issues in your business. Our analysis will show you clearly that it has been bleeding for several years without your even realizing it.”

“Whaddya mean by
bleeding
?” Phil continued airing the WFB team’s curiosity.

“On the surface, it seems like it’s been business as usual for all your businesses. But if you scratch the surface and go
deeper, there are issues…serious issues. That’s the bad news.”

This time Schneider did not wait for Phil or anyone else to probe further and went on to explain. “Let me give you a few examples that you can relate to.”

He turned to Dave who looked after the casino business. “Let’s start off with the Pecker in Vegas.” He then looked at the others in the room.

“Let’s do a little role-play. Imagine yourself in a customer’s shoes. You get these casino coupons in a magazine and decide to make use of them during your visit to Las Vegas. You check-in into the Pecker and as promised in the advertisement, you get a wad of Peckernotes to use. The hotel management is happy as the guests keep flowing in. The guests are happy to get reduced room rents, free games and…yes, Peckernotes. So far so good?”

Dave did not respond, knowing well there was more to follow.

“But has anyone actually tried to keep track of how much each customer adds to the Pecker’s profit?”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” Dave finally spoke up.

“The customers are actually binging on the freebies and moving on to greener pastures once those freebies have been exhausted. They stay in the hotel because of the subsidized room rates. But they go to other casinos to splurge their hard earned cash. You’ve got them into your hotel, but you can’t rein them in for long. What you have effectively been doing is feeding your competitors with customers.”

Dave wasn’t sure what Schneider was trying to do here. But he did become conscious that the generous gifting of Peckernotes during their trip to Las Vegas had not worked its magic on the consultants.

Almost as if Schneider had read Dave’s mind, he went on, “Let’s now talk about Peckernotes. Interesting name and an interesting concept. Can’t dispute that. And Dave, like you said, they are valuable only within the hotel. So fortunately for us, we aren’t feeding the competition in this area. But there’s ample scope for using, or rather,
abusing these notes within the hotel itself.”

“How is that?” Dave wanted to know more. He still wasn’t sure where this was all heading.

“The Day’s Special at the restaurant costs thirty bucks per person. Right?” Schneider looked at Dave and waited for a response. All eyes in the room turned to Dave.

“That’s right. The price may vary a little over the year, but it would be around that range,” Dave responded.

“If I pay using fifty dollars in Peckernotes, the waiter gladly accepts it. But I don’t get twenty dollars back.”

“Yes. You are not supposed to. Peckernotes are just for promotion. You aren’t expected to make money out of it.” Dave felt he had it all covered. This smart-ass of a consultant wasn’t going to mess up his hard-earned reputation so easily.

“Will the waiter complain if I did not have Peckernotes and paid by cash instead?”

“Not at all.”

“Ok. Let’s hold that thought for now and move on to the next piece in the puzzle. Now think about this. The waiter gets paid fifty dollars in Peckernotes at my table. She then goes to another table where the food bill is fifty dollars. This time the customers pay in cash.”

“So?” Dave was getting impatient.

“The waiter goes back to the cashier and switches the payments. She deposits fifty dollars in Peckernotes for the second table and thirty dollars in cash for my table. In the bargain, she pockets a cool twenty dollars in
real hard cash
. But overall, as the manager of the restaurant, you are losing more than just the twenty bucks that the waiter siphoned off. On an eighty dollar food bill, you are just getting thirty dollars in
real
payment. That’s a sixty percent loss in revenues right there.”

Woody didn’t quite grasp the arithmetic that was just explained, but appeared convinced that the consultants were on to something big here.

Dave didn’t get the complete picture either and was still trying to understand what was just said, when he felt Woody’s eyes piercing through him. He felt it was uncalled for. How could he have stopped something that he wasn’t even aware of in the first place? Dave was desperately in need of something that would deflect the attention.

“Do you think all the waiters are partners in this and the supervisors may actually be facilitating the frauds?” Woody asked a pointed question, sparing Dave the trouble of coming up with a more intelligent question.

“I can’t say for sure that they are,” Schneider replied. “I don’t have any concrete evidence against anyone, as we’ve only scratched the surface so far. We are only evaluating possibilities. But I’d be surprised if the waiters have been able to keep this under wraps for such a long time without the knowledge of their supervisors. Our analysis is based on the objective evidence we’ve collected in the short time we spent in your various businesses. We have reviewed the accounting books which Dave was so kind to provide and we see that the downward trend started around the late nineties. And during our lengthy conversation with Dave, we understand that was also the time when the concept of Peckernotes was put in place – not a strong linkage, but I’d bet the two are linked”, Schneider asserted.

He was mildly smiling at the way he had changed the visual from boring graphs to that showing a gangster looting
the casino by pillaging the Peckernotes and showing how they converted to real dollars. A little gimmick to make the presentation interesting for an unconventional audience that would hopefully find the image worth a thousand graphs.

Schneider looked at Woody, “That fifty dollar Peckernote story was just a simple example. If you multiply this by the number of customers that visit the restaurant each day, each month, each year… the potential for such fraud becomes clearer. We don’t know when this started, but I’d say the losses have been piling up on a continuous basis. That’s the
bleeding
I’m talking about.”

Schneider saw a few heads nodding around him, possibly trying to show they realized the gravity of the situation and possibly out of the relief that they were not in the line of fire.

“But the casino’s woes don’t end there,” Schneider continued. “Remember we had asked for recordings from the game tables? We got them analyzed.” Schneider then looked at Martin, “Could you play the sample recording please?”

Martin started the video recording in fast-forward mode. The black-and-white video switched between multiple tables every few seconds.

“Stop right there,” Schneider said after a few seconds and continued to look at the projected images. Martin hit the pause button. Schneider pointed at the screen.

“See those two guys there on that blackjack table? They appear to be long-time customers at the casino and quite friendly with the card dealer judging by pleasantries they exchange. Nothing wrong with that. Let’s move on Martin.” Martin continued playing the video in fast-forward mode till Schneider ordered authoritatively, “Hold it. Play it in regular mode now.”

Schneider kept looking at the screen as he explained, “Look at their body language, those gestures, the nose touch, the eyebrow scratch, we can’t hear the words…but they are using a complex system of communication at the table.”

The quality of the video was really bad and the people in the room contorted their facial muscles and squinted their eyes to see what was going on. Comprehension was the last thing on their mind.

“There’s evidence that they are also using card counting techniques to gain an edge over the house. They don’t play big money and never hit any jackpots…and that’s all planned as well. They manage to win small sums and switch tables frequently, so that their winnings stay under the radar. They dramatically display their disappointment on losing. They highlight and advertise their losses, but hardly allow their winnings to gain too much attention. We only have a week’s footage and we sighted many of the same guys winning consistently. Each of these guys would potentially be taking back several thousand dollars a week.”

“Why do these guys hang around our casinos then?” Woody asked. Numerical genius was not required to ask that question. “If they had this new secret language that you speak of and their brilliant ideas, why don’t they go to other casinos and earn big money there? The bigger casinos would find it more difficult to track them.”

“I’m glad you asked, Mr. Woody. It indeed is intriguing that these customers have been so loyal to the Pecker, when they could’ve followed the same strategy in other bigger casinos. Here’s the reason why.”

He pointed back at the projected image while Martin displayed a list of profiles – mugshots of people and brief profile descriptions of each.

Schneider explained, “This is a snapshot from a confidential database that the other casinos share with each other. It’s created and maintained by a private company. The casinos pay an annual charge for using it. It’s a list of black-listed players. They’ve been banned from entering the other casinos. The Pecker is one of the few places that still regards them as loyal customers and lays out the red carpet. Besides, since you have ‘saved’ money by not putting in the latest surveillance equipment, which all profitable casinos do, you have no way to assess if there is counting going on in your casino. More bleeding for WFB.”

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