belamy20

401-405

Added 2025-08-01 16:50:21 +0000 UTC

Chapter 401: Comcast Is Making Its Move

The Grinch was last year’s North American box office runner-up, raking in $2.6 billion, just behind Spider-Man.

You could tell from STARZ’s broadcast numbers too—The Grinch was definitely getting more buzz than X-Men.

Of course, a lot of that had to do with Band of Brothers.

Today was September 3rd—just six days away from the global premiere of Band of Brothers!

In its past life, HBO had dominated that summer. Starting in June, they rolled out Six Feet Under, Charlie’s Angels, The Perfect Storm, and Band of Brothers in a four-hit streak, driving subscriptions through the roof—from 7.5 million to 15 million!

In this timeline, Dunn swapped out Charlie’s Angels for the bigger-impact X-Men and replaced The Perfect Storm with the more beloved The Grinch.

What would the results be?

The future would tell.

But so far, things were looking good!

In the first two days of September, the TV network added 1.16 million new subscribers—a number worth celebrating!

That brought the total to 6.56 million, overtaking Showtime and making STARZ the second-largest premium cable network in the U.S. by subscriber count!

Only 1 million behind HBO!

Dunn snatched the report from Isla Fisher’s hands and scanned it closely. Of those 1.16 million new subscribers, 1.15 million opted for the 3-month, $99 package—not the cheaper six-month or yearly plans.

Clearly, most of these newbies were skeptical about the network. They just wanted to test it out for three months, mainly to watch Band of Brothers.

The series had 10 episodes, and buying the full DVD set would cost $100! Subscribing to the channel was a better deal by comparison.

“Big things are coming!”

Dunn reviewed the report, his spirits high.

Isla Fisher chirped excitedly, “Dunn, did we win again?”

Dunn let out a hearty laugh, loving that “we.” He suddenly pulled her into a hug and planted a kiss on her red lips.

Isla pushed him back, blushing. “There’s someone else here!”

Kevin Feige stood up with a grin. “Boss, I’ve got some ideas for The Punisher project. I’ll head back and get started. Oh, and congrats in advance on the network’s ratings going through the roof!”

Ratings through the roof?

The jury was still out.

But since September kicked off, it’d been one piece of good news after another!

Comcast obviously knew Dunn Films’ stance—they’d fax over the latest data every day before closing up shop.

September 3rd: 470,000 new household installations across the U.S., 520,000 new subscribers!

September 4th: 620,000 new installations, 540,000 new subscribers!

Just four days into September, the network was unstoppable, rocketing past Showtime and then overtaking HBO!

It was now, hands down, North America’s top premium cable network by subscriber count!

Sure, HBO still had over 5 million subscribers overseas.

In terms of overall scale, STARZ was still behind.

But Band of Brothers didn’t premiere until September 9th!

The network had five more days!

With this insane growth rate, no one could predict where it’d peak.

September 5th: The ratio of installations to subscribers was too low, and operational losses were piling up. Comcast tweaked its strategy. That day, installations dropped by 1.2 million, but subscribers jumped by 650,000!

September 6th: Installations went negative by 3.74 million, yet subscribers grew by 570,000!

September 7th—Friday.

Comcast didn’t send the report straight to Dunn Films this time. Instead, they threw a celebration party, inviting Dunn, Bill McNickle, Wes Cotton, Tosca Musk, Chris Albrecht, and other bigwigs from Dunn Films and the STARZ network.

Dunn showed up with Penelope Cruz on his arm.

Old man Roberts, now semi-retired, made a rare appearance. He shook Dunn’s hand warmly, congratulating the young gun.

But his age was catching up—his energy nowhere near Redstone’s. After greeting everyone, he bowed out, leaving the hosting duties to his son, Brian Roberts, Comcast’s current chairman.

Brian Roberts, born in 1959, was dubbed by Forbes as “the most scholarly and refined entrepreneur in media.” Even wilder? The guy used to be an athlete—back in college, he won a silver medal in squash for Team USA.

Since taking over Comcast from his dad in 1990, he’d kicked off a string of textbook acquisitions, earning a vibe reminiscent of America’s “Murdoch.”

This year alone, he outbid Time Warner, Disney, and AT&T to snag AT&T’s cable business.

Post-merger, Comcast’s market share was closing in on 30%—double Time Warner’s. It was teetering on antitrust territory, cementing its spot as America’s unshakable top cable operator.

But having a huge user base wasn’t enough for him.

His ambitions were sky-high. He wanted to be a titan like Murdoch or Redstone, turning Comcast into a full-spectrum media empire!

“Dunn, your strategy’s a total curveball—brilliant!” Brian Roberts raised a glass of champagne. After a quick chat with Bill McNickle, he sidled up to Dunn.

Dunn shrugged helplessly. “Brian, how about giving me the latest update? We’re all waiting on the numbers.”

Brian grinned. “Let me build some suspense! I’ll head up on stage soon and announce the big news with some flair!”

“Oh?”

Dunn’s face lit up, his eyes gleaming.

A flashy announcement—could it be something jaw-dropping?

Very possible!

It was Friday, and per typical American work habits, operators didn’t work weekends.

Families wanting to catch Band of Brothers on Sunday would rush to subscribe today, activating STARZ to avoid missing the premiere due to weekend downtime.

It was a slow season for movies, and a war epic like this was the perfect filler for the weekend entertainment gap.

Of course, most households didn’t know that Comcast had staff working overtime on weekends lately to push STARZ’s growth, offering installation and subscription services.

Brian caught Dunn’s expression and smirked. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Dunn gave him a deep look, suddenly sensing this party wasn’t just a victory lap. This guy had an agenda. Casually, he asked, “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

“Content, for one.”

“Content?”

Dunn’s brow creased slightly.

These days, Hollywood studios were cozying up to big media conglomerates for broader reach. But Brian was talking content—his sights were set high!

Brian didn’t mince words. “Dunn, I’ve boiled down your success to one thing: content! Movies like Spider-Man and Titanic, TV with Six Feet Under and Band of Brothers. That’s the right play. In media, no matter how flashy the platform or wide the distribution, it’s content that hooks the audience—not the delivery. In a cutthroat market, only top-notch, popular content can pull in the masses.”

“Heh, Brian, you’ve got it figured out,” Dunn said, his chest tightening as he locked eyes with him. “You’re not eyeing my company for a buyout, are you?”

“What?” Brian blinked, then burst out laughing. “Dunn, you’re a riot! Even if I wanted to, would you sell? A company with sky-high returns, low debt, and a bright future? If it went up for bid, Comcast wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Dunn exhaled, grinning. “Fair point. Dunn Films is great at content, but having content doesn’t mean you rule the game. Getting it to the audience takes the right channels. Distribution’s becoming king in the media chain. This next wave of mergers is all about matching the best content with the best delivery.”

“Well said!”

Brian clapped in approval.

Seeing the glint in his eyes, Dunn squinted, a realization clicking.

This Brian Roberts had a huge appetite!

In the original timeline, he’d led Comcast to bid $66 billion for Disney—got rejected—then pivoted to snatch NBCUniversal. Still hungry, they grabbed a stake in MGM, eyed a $45 billion Time Warner merger, and even pondered a $60 billion grab for Fox’s assets.

As Time Warner, News Corp, and Viacom faded, and Disney soared, the only media player left to slug it out was Comcast!

Now, as America’s biggest cable operator, growing further risked antitrust scrutiny. They needed new territory.

From his tone, it was clear—he’d set his sights on Hollywood.

Sure enough, Brian confirmed Dunn’s hunch. “Like you said, the next media wave is about pairing the right content with the right delivery!”

Dunn chuckled, shaking his head. “Brian, so it’s not that you never considered buying Dunn Films—you just didn’t think it was worth it without distribution channels!”

Brian’s face turned serious. “Dunn Films only works with you at the helm—no one else could pull it off!”

“Alright,” Dunn shrugged. “I get it. You’re looking to break into Hollywood, aren’t you?”

Chapter 402: 10 Million Subscribers!

No beating around the bush—Brian Roberts had already done his homework.

“Comcast’s cable TV business has stretched as far as it can go. The delivery network needs a ton of content to keep it full, especially video-on-demand through broadband, which relies on a massive library of shows and movies.”

“Wait a sec!” Dunn cut him off, eyebrows shooting up. “Video-on-demand? Brian, are you serious?”

Brian Roberts gave him a knowing look and grinned. “You don’t think the internet’s the future? Haven’t you invested in a few dot-coms yourself?”

Dunn paused, then chuckled. “Brian, you’re moving way too fast! Integrating AT&T’s core assets after that acquisition’s gotta take at least a year, right? And you’ve still got energy to dip into the content game?”

Brian shrugged casually. “You’ve gotta plan ahead. Isn’t that your whole business vibe?”

“Alright, fair enough. What’s your play?”

Dunn smirked, already piecing it together. Brian wouldn’t be chatting him up about this unless his big strategy somehow tied back to Dunn.

Brian leaned in, voice low. “Disney’s movies, ABC’s news, and ESPN’s sports—it’s the perfect combo to feed Comcast’s needs.”

Bingo!

In Dunn’s past life, Comcast made a bold move in 2004, swooping in to bid for Disney during the chaos of Michael Eisner’s ousting.

Now, thanks to Dunn’s meddling, Eisner’s seat was wobbling by 2001. Roy Disney, the number-two guy, was already rallying support to boot him out.

Dunn had worked his tail off to throw Disney into disarray, and here was Comcast, ready to swoop in and snatch it up. That didn’t sit right with Dunn’s plans!

Disney’s assets? Dunn had his eye on those too—especially Disney Animation and ESPN!

He smirked faintly. “Brian, no offense, but Disney’s like the ‘British royalty’ of media. Comcast? More like the ‘new money’ kid on the block. I don’t see this acquisition panning out.”

Brian didn’t flinch. “Disney’s got history, sure, but is its foundation deeper than AT&T’s? Don’t forget—Comcast’s got cash flow for days!”

Tarzan TV’s North American installs hovered around 45 million. Every set-top box required a $20 deposit from households—that’s $900 million in cash, straight up!

Plus, cable operators typically settled accounts every six months. That meant Comcast was sitting on “borrowed” funds from other companies—like Tarzan TV’s subscription fees, currently parked in Comcast’s accounts.

And Comcast’s reach wasn’t just Tarzan—it covered 30% of the U.S. market!

IP fees in the States were sky-high, and TV was a major household expense. Beyond operating and subscription costs, tons of content came with extra paywalls:

Educational and training videos;

Tyson boxing matches, with pay-per-view fees once hitting $100 a pop;

Smaller events—like niche sports with no broadcast deal—where fans had to shell out absurd amounts to watch.

Stats showed North American households averaged $80 a month on TV entertainment.

That spending level? Unique to North America, nowhere else!

So, let’s crunch the numbers: 1.1 billion households in North America, Comcast with nearly 30% market share, $80 per household monthly, over six months…

Half a year in, Comcast was holding onto roughly $16 billion in “custodial” cash!

Sure, it was technically debt, but for a company, juggling funds like that—robbing Peter to pay Paul—was standard playbook stuff.

Five lids for ten teapots? For a sharp operator, that’s just opportunity!

Dunn had busted his hump to mess with Disney—he wasn’t about to let Brian Roberts waltz in and scoop up the prize. He frowned. “Disney’s brand value and earning potential are massive. Cash alone won’t cut it.”

Brian grinned. “Easy—tank the stock price! You’ve been crushing Disney in movies for two years now.”

Dunn shook his head. “That’s not on me. ABC’s been dragging Disney down with its lousy performance.”

“You’re too modest! Disney’s stock slide? I’d say half of it’s thanks to you!” Brian tossed out a compliment, then dropped his voice. “Team up with me. You hammer Disney’s movies, I hit their TV side. I guarantee within two years, their shareholders will crack!”

Dunn laughed coldly to himself.

He’d already locked and loaded a nuke to blow Disney’s shareholders apart—did he really need Comcast’s help?

No way. Disney was a Hollywood player; Comcast was an outsider.

Dunn Films joining forces with an interloper against a Hollywood titan? That’s inviting the wolf in!

Even if they won, it’d look bad.

Teaming up with Roy Disney was the smarter, safer bet.

Dunn glanced around, grinning. “Alright, Brian, this is too big a topic. Dunn Films is busy growing Tarzan TV, and Comcast’s got its hands full integrating AT&T’s chunk of assets. We’re stretched thin! Heh, if you ask me, you should just go announce the good news—I’m dying to hear it!”

…

Since September hit, Tarzan TV’s subscriber count had been skyrocketing, with over 500,000 new sign-ups daily.

As of now, they were at 8.84 million subscribers!

Today was Friday, the last workday of the week—prime time for a surge.

“Could we break a million in a single day?”

That question wasn’t just bouncing around Dunn’s head—every exec at Dunn Films was wondering the same thing.

HBO had been in the game for decades, with a huge operation and deep channels. Sure, Tarzan had passed them in subscribers, but HBO still led in total revenue as the industry king.

But Tarzan TV’s momentum was unreal. At this rate, within six months, they could legitimately overtake HBO and claim the top spot as North America’s biggest premium cable network!

Brian Roberts stepped up to the podium, mic ready. In his mid-forties, he looked sharp and energized.

“We’ve got a lot of friends here tonight—Comcast folks and honored guests from Dunn Films. We’re gathered for one reason: to celebrate Tarzan TV’s growth miracle! Over the past two weeks, Dunn Films and Comcast kicked off a new partnership, pushing hard to spread Tarzan TV. And the results? They’re looking good!”

“According to the latest—no, yesterday’s—data, Tarzan TV’s subscribers have topped 8.84 million! Nearly 4 million of those came in the last two weeks. That proves this collaboration between Comcast and Dunn Films is a win—something to cheer about, something that’s turning heads!”

Brian paused. Comcast’s crew clapped, but it was sparse, half-hearted.

Dunn Films’ people, meanwhile, were all ears for the latest numbers, tuning out the fluffy preamble.

Brian coughed, a little thrown. “So, I’m hoping Comcast and Dunn Films can dive into more joint ventures…”

Dunn’s face darkened. Worried Brian might drag him into the Disney talk, he jumped in. “Brian, I can’t wait any longer—spill it! How many new subscribers did Tarzan TV get today? You didn’t forget, right?”

Laughter rippled through the room. Brian pulled a note from his jacket pocket, flashing a wide grin. “Alright, here it is: on September 7th, Tarzan TV added…”

He stretched the pause, then bellowed, “1.46 million!”

“How many? 1.46 million?”

Dunn blinked, stunned. Bill McNickle, Chris Albrecht, and the rest of Dunn’s crew gaped in disbelief.

1.46 million new subscribers in one day? That was insane!

Dunn had figured they might crack a million.

But this? This was next-level!

With 8.84 million already in the bag, plus 1.46 million, that meant… total subscribers had blown past 10 million?

A legit TV industry miracle!

Right up there with Spider-Man’s $1.26 billion global box-office legend in movies!

HBO’s peak in North America? Around 8 million subscribers.

Tarzan TV hitting over 10 million? That was a flex to make every rival green with envy!

“Whoa!”

Forget banquet etiquette—the room erupted in cheers.

Bill McNickle and Wes Cotton hugged it out. Chris Albrecht high-fived Tosca Musk. Moritz Eckhart and Dunn clinked glasses…

10 million subscribers—an absolute monster milestone!

“HBO’s global total’s over 12 million. If we can, I want to smash that too!”

Dunn strode up beside Brian, grabbing the mic and booming his ambition.

The energy in the room cranked up even higher.

Pop!

Someone—nobody knew who—cracked open a champagne bottle. The fizzy spray shot toward Dunn like a shockwave.

In a split second, he couldn’t dodge.

He and Brian got drenched head to toe.

The laughter stopped cold, an awkward hush falling over the crowd.

Brian was Comcast’s boss. Dunn was Dunn Films’ kingpin.

This…

They locked eyes and burst out laughing.

Then—pop, pop!—champagne flew everywhere.

This wasn’t some stuffy business mixer anymore.

It felt like a team celebrating a championship win.

Joy bubbled over with the champagne.

Chapter 403: Nobody’s a Pushover!

By the time they left, Dunn was a total mess.

His Versace suit, worth over $50,000, was officially toast.

Penelope Cruz, on the other hand, emerged unscathed—lucky for her, as a lady. Champagne stains on her gown would’ve been… awkward, to say the least.

“They were so out of line!” Penelope twisted Dunn’s sleeve, wringing out actual liquid, her face sour with annoyance.

Dunn just laughed it off. “No big deal. They were just having fun.”

“But I bought you that suit!” she grumbled, clearly not over it.

“Then buy me another one!” Dunn grabbed her hand, spotting Chris Albrecht heading out. He waved him over. “Chris, come on, I’ll drop you at your hotel.”

Chris used to work at HBO, so his home was in New York. Now with STARZ, he was based in Denver. In L.A., he was stuck crashing at a hotel.

Chris didn’t hesitate, hopping into Dunn’s tricked-out Lincoln sedan.

“Man, these doors are solid—bulletproof, right? Probably bomb-proof too,” Chris marveled as soon as he settled in.

Dunn sighed. “This one ‘crappy’ car set me back over two million bucks!”

Chris chuckled. “Cars like this? They’ve got reinforced fiber run-flat tires, and I bet there’s a steel rim inside the wheel. Even with a blowout, it’d keep going. And these doors? Looks like ballistic steel—same stuff they use on a Boeing 757.”

“Whoa,” Dunn’s eyes lit up. “You know your stuff, huh?”

Chris smirked. “What can I say? Guys and fancy cars—it’s a thing.”

Dunn jumped on it. “Alright, deal. If STARZ really, truly overtakes HBO and becomes North America’s top premium cable network, I’m gifting you one of these modded rides!”

“Thanks.” Chris’s eyes gleamed with a hint of longing, but he stayed grounded, shaking his head. “STARZ is where it is today because of content—Six Feet Under, Band of Brothers. That’s all you. I didn’t do much.”

Dunn laughed, clapping his shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short. Running a network takes more than just content. You need distribution, connections, equipment, a solid team. Chris, don’t let me down!”

Chris nodded firmly. “Got it!”

Dunn gave a soft “mm,” and as the car rolled out, he glanced at Brian Roberts waving them off in the rearview mirror. Casually, he asked, “What’s your take on young Roberts?”

Chris thought for a moment. “Haven’t dealt with him much, but… he’s got a vibe kinda like yours.”

“Oh?” That piqued Dunn’s curiosity.

“It’s hard to pin down, but you both have this ‘I’m the center of the universe’ aura. Magnetic, you know? People who vibe with you get drawn in, naturally orbiting around you. Of course, some folks just can’t stand it. Biggest difference? You’re 20 years younger.”

Even Penelope couldn’t help but giggle.

Chris nailed it, but he quickly shifted gears. “Boss, I think… Comcast’s strategy is off. At least for where STARZ is right now.”

Dunn’s eyes narrowed. “Spill.”

Chris explained, “To cut operational losses, Comcast started pulling back on installations this week. They say they’re dropping households that only subscribe to basic packages—ones unlikely to spring for a premium like STARZ. But just because someone’s on a basic plan doesn’t mean they’re broke. Maybe they’re just not into generic TV.”

Dunn nodded.

Set-top boxes cost money to produce. More “dead” boxes mean higher manufacturing and installation costs for the operator. Sure, there’s a deposit, but that’s a liability—eventually, it’s gotta be refunded.

Right now, STARZ had boxes in 45 million households but only 10 million paying subscribers.

Comcast’s goal was to get that ratio down to 3:1, citing Time Warner’s setup with HBO as precedent.

Problem was, HBO’s subscriber growth had stalled, so Time Warner cut back on investment—HBO’s boxes were pricier since they carried more channels.

STARZ, though, was in hyper-growth mode. More installed boxes meant a bigger potential market. As STARZ’s rep grew, those households would eventually cave and subscribe.

But pull the boxes? Out of sight, out of mind.

It’s like retailers offering free trials—don’t see it, don’t try it, don’t want it. Use it, and you’re hooked.

Comcast’s move was all about their own bottom line, ignoring their partner’s interests.

Classic Brian Roberts.

Dunn said, “Flooding the market with boxes fits STARZ’s potential and future growth. Scaling back fits Comcast’s short-term gains—10 million subscribers already blew past their expectations.”

Penelope, catching on, gasped. “Comcast’s playing dirty?”

Dunn shot her a look. “No interruptions!”

She stuck out her tongue, pouting with a little huff, clearly miffed.

Their dynamic had clearly moved beyond “fling.” Girlfriend? Nah, she didn’t check those boxes. But a close friend? Definitely possible.

Chris frowned, his voice low. “Comcast’s only looking out for their immediate profits. They don’t care about STARZ’s long-term future. Maybe even…”

“What?”

Chris hesitated, shaking his head. “Just feels off.”

“Hm?”

“Roberts—Brian, I mean. He’s sharp. He’s gotta know the rumors about you, how you don’t take crap. This move by Comcast… it’s kinda reckless, no? Isn’t he worried about pissing you off?”

Dunn’s body stiffened, a thought hitting him like a bolt.

The car pulled up to Chris’s hotel, but he didn’t budge, turning to look at Dunn.

Dunn’s face was like stone, flashing back to what Brian Roberts said at the party.

Brian wanted to team up with Dunn to tank Disney’s stock price!

And then… buy Disney!

Comcast’s cutback on STARZ installations—maybe it was a test, a way to feel Dunn out.

“Is he actually signaling he wants to cap STARZ’s growth?”

Dunn’s mind raced, connecting the dots.

He’d dealt with too many business sharks to think otherwise: always assume the worst of your rivals!

From Disney’s Michael Eisner and Roy Disney to Viacom’s Redstone to Hollinger’s Conrad Black—every one of these tycoons had their own schemes. Not a single one was a saint!

Dunn hadn’t crossed paths with Murdoch directly, but he’d clashed plenty with Fox. Even DreamWorks, a fellow indie studio that should’ve been an ally, had sparked some serious beef.

Business was all about outsmarting each other—a den of wolves, no one nobler than the next!

“Think… could Brian be doing this on purpose?” Dunn threw out the theory boldly. “Tonight, he pitched me on working together on… something. Maybe this is his way of showing his cards.”

Chris looked stunned. “No way. He’s not scared we’d cut ties?”

“Think harder.”

Dunn’s face was dead serious.

Chris went quiet, his expression darkening. “STARZ is huge now. Those tens of millions of boxes and installations? That’s hundreds of millions in costs. Smaller operators couldn’t handle that risk. Nationwide, only three players can swing it.”

Dunn nodded. “Exactly. Comcast, Time Warner, and Disney.”

Chris gritted his teeth. “Time Warner’s all-in on HBO—they’d never give STARZ the time of day. Disney? Even if they buried the hatchet with Dunn Films, they’d never run a gritty network like STARZ. It’s against their family-friendly brand. Hmph, Comcast’s got no fear, do they?”

Dunn said, “Premium cable’s a high-cost, high-stakes game. HBO’s got Time Warner. Showtime’s tied to Comcast because Viacom and Comcast are tight, even shareholding. That leaves STARZ—us—floating without roots!”

Chris ventured, “Could Redstone and Brian have some kind of understanding?”

Dunn thought it over, shaking his head. “Doubt it. I’ve got a deal with Redstone—he’s not the type to pull petty stunts like this. It’s probably just Brian.”

Chris frowned. “Didn’t expect STARZ getting big would turn it into a bargaining chip.”

“Chip?” Dunn let out a cold snort, his face icy.

“Boss, you…”

Chris had seen that look before—when HBO provoked Dunn, and he dropped a fortune in penalties to poach their entire content team.

Dunn’s voice was frigid. “You focus on growing STARZ. Let’s hope this is all in our heads. But if it’s real? They’ll see what happens when I stop playing nice!”

Chapter 404: A Sunset Industry

Dunn’s bold stance sent a chill through the car.

Chris Albrecht frowned, puzzled. “So, what’s our move?”

Dunn snorted. “Back when I handed Tarzan’s operations to Comcast, the deal was for three years.”

“Three years?” Chris’s brow furrowed deeper as he caught the drift. “But if we don’t renew, who’s gonna handle Tarzan TV’s operations?”

Dunn replied coolly, “Why does it have to be someone else? You just said it yourself—a beefed-up Tarzan could become a liability if it’s not in our hands. Keeping it under our control is the safer bet!”

Chris’s jaw dropped.

Running a cable TV operation meant reaching into every household. That required a small army of installers, sales reps, and customer service folks, plus offline cash management, signal tuning, transmission—the works. It was a logistical nightmare.

This was a low-barrier, high-investment, high-return game!

You couldn’t just toss a few billion—or even tens of billions—at it and call it a day.

Take Comcast’s acquisition of AT&T’s cable assets this year: $47.5 billion!

If Dunn wanted to run Tarzan TV solo, starting from scratch wasn’t an option—it’d grind Tarzan to a halt.

He’d have to buy out a company with enough muscle and a coast-to-coast network.

But would that come cheap?

And here’s the kicker: TV was a dying industry!

In 30, maybe 40 years, the whole sector could collapse.

Was it smart for Dunn to drop tens of billions on a cable operator right now?

Or…

Could Dunn somehow breathe new life into the TV market?

Once streaming hit, that’d be a tall order!

Maybe in China, TV could still dominate—backed by state policies, monopolized channels, and rampant piracy keeping streaming companies in the red.

But the U.S.? Different beast. Streaming’s rise was a full-on disaster for TV!

Beyond airtight IP protection, it boiled down to one thing: TV costs here were insane!

Take 2001, for example—

Basic package: CBS, NBC, ABC, and Fox (the free public channels) plus a handful of cheap cable stations like TV Land or Disney Channel—$20 a month.

Premium package: those four free networks plus hundreds of cable channels, including fan-favorites like ESPN, CNN, and USA—$70 a month.

Then, premium cable like HBO, Tarzan, or Showtime? Extra subscription fees.

Oh, and individual events—like PPV sports? Separate charges.

Average it out, and households were coughing up $80 a month!

Way too steep!

If they had a choice, families would stick to the free quartet—CBS, NBC, ABC, Fox—plus a few heavy-hitters like ESPN, CNN, National Geographic, and Discovery.

The other hundreds of cable channels? Total dead weight!

Bundled packages were straight-up fleecing consumers.

Streaming was a game-changer. Netflix at $10 a month covered most entertainment needs—plenty for the basics.

Americans had money, sure, but they weren’t dumb enough to flush it down the drain.

Sky-high TV fees had fueled a wild boom for the industry—media empires rose on the backs of TV giants.

But those same fees made it a sitting duck when streaming rolled in, hammering the U.S. TV biz like never before.

Plenty of media titans never recovered.

Dunn knew the future, and this dilemma had him second-guessing.

Still, in front of his team, he had to keep up the tough, decisive front. With a sharp wave, he growled, “Disney’s a big enemy. Viacom and Time Warner have crossed me too. One more—Comcast? No big deal! I don’t like mutually assured destruction, but if Comcast pulls some dirty trick, we’ll just burn it all down!”

Chris’s lips twitched, words catching in his throat before he swallowed them. “Let’s hope it’s just a hunch. Little Roberts wouldn’t be that reckless, right?”

Pure lip service.

As a pro, Chris knew how brutal running a cable operation could be.

If Dunn Films and Comcast really fell out, the best-case scenario was smaller cable operators merging fast over the next few years, forming a new player.

It wouldn’t match Comcast or Time Warner, but it’d at least need nationwide reach.

Then Tarzan TV would have options—room to maneuver.

…

On the ride back, Dunn sat in silence, eyes closed, lost in thought.

Penelope Cruz, perched beside him, blinked her big, pretty eyes and asked cautiously, “Dunn… can I ask you something?”

“Huh?” He opened his eyes, smiling as he pinched her cheek. “Sure, why so shy? Did I spook you?”

“No way,” she giggled, then lowered her voice. “Didn’t you say the internet’s the new medium—that it’ll eventually replace TV?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I did!”

“So, are you still gonna dive deeper into TV?”

Dunn gave her a long look.

It was a real question. Even John Malone, the godfather of U.S. cable, had bailed on the industry. Dunn doubling down now felt like charging straight into a tiger’s den.

“When AT&T sold off its cable business, it was to fund mobile operations—wireless stuff for phones. Truth is, TV and internet operations aren’t that different. Same crew could handle both. TV’s fading, sure, but the internet’s only growing. One shrinks, the other rises. Grab both, and you won’t crash.”

Dunn tossed out a half-true, half-fluff answer, then smirked at her. “What’s this? You wanna learn management, start a company?”

“No chance!” Penelope shook her head. “I’ve got some savings—about $700,000. Feels like a waste sitting in the bank. I was thinking of buying internet stocks.”

Dunn waved it off. “Hold up. That kind of money… stocks won’t make you much. Wait till my company’s IPO. You can grab some original shares during the insider round—that’ll do you.”

“Really?”

Her eyes sparkled, practically glowing.

Dunn pulled her into his lap, laughing. “Gotta bulk up the shareholder team before going public. Perks go to our people first, right?”

Penelope tilted her head. “Not just employees?”

Dunn hadn’t expected her to know this much. “Employees get some, and you’ll get some too!”

“Sweet!” She grinned. “So… when’s Dunn Films going public?”

“Uh… if things go smooth, before 2006!”

Dunn mulled it over and threw out a timeline.

Late 2006 was when housing prices tanked, the subprime crisis kicked off, and the next two years were an economic mess.

Listing then would slash the IPO price—not worth it.

Penelope beamed. “Your company’s gotta be a goldmine for investors!”

“You’ve got that much faith in me?”

“Totally! HBO’s a beast, and you took it down like it was nothing. Dunn Films is gonna kill it.”

“It all hinges on Band of Brothers’ ratings.”

“Come on, it’s a no-brainer! It’s gonna be huge—super huge!”

Penelope was buzzing, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She looked… more confident than Dunn himself.

Chapter 405: The Birth of a Legendary Show!

The wheels of history were turning, and “9/11” was creeping closer.

It’d be the first attack on U.S. soil since Pearl Harbor, but the stakes were totally different.

The Pearl Harbor attack turned America into a soaring eagle—filthy rich, with the whole world in its debt. “9/11,” though? It shackled the country, drowning it in debt and flipping the script—now America owed the world.

For Dunn, “9/11” was a big deal too.

But right now, his eyes were locked on September 9th—the global premiere of Band of Brothers on STARZ!

September 8th, Saturday. STARZ added another 70,000 subscribers that day, still climbing.

September 9th. Dunn sent his private jet to scoop up his two New York-based supermodels, Angela Lindvall and Karolina Kurkova, and bring them to L.A.

Mostly, he was worried about potential hiccups from the big event two days away.

While he was at it, he sent Scott Swift to Silicon Valley under the guise of “investment research” to chat with Apple’s board.

Dunn Capital now held over 45 million shares of Apple—the max the board had greenlit before. With the iPod presale kicking off, the stock was stabilizing and even showing room to climb.

Scott’s mission was to feel out the board—could Dunn keep buying up Apple stock? (Any shareholder with over 5% of total shares needed board approval for changes.)

Band of Brothers was set to air at 8 p.m. prime time on STARZ.

Dunn had rounded up quite the crew: Milla Jovovich, Isla Fisher, Sophie Marceau, Reese Witherspoon (who’d quit her secretary gig), Angela Lindvall and Karolina Kurkova fresh from New York, plus Penelope Cruz, Rose Byrne, and Abbie Cornish, who already lived at the Beverly Hills estate.

The more, the merrier—time to celebrate!

But with so many women around, the looks they shot Dunn were… well, a little weird.

One guy, nine girls—what’s the plan here?

That is, until a new guest showed up.

“Huh? What are you doing here?”

Dunn was mid-fantasy about the night ahead when he spotted Taylor Swift’s adorable, cherub-like face at the door.

“I’m here to watch TV!” Little Taylor grinned, tilting her chin up with a smug hum. “I got an A in math, and Mom said I could come as a reward!”

Behind her, Andrea Swift looked a tad embarrassed.

Dunn? Even more so!

With this house full of women, he could’ve lived like an emperor tonight—maybe even kicked back with some lovely company while watching Band of Brothers.

Now? Little Taylor, the clingiest kid ever, had crashed the party.

Dunn’s face stiffened. “It’s a war show—not for kids.”

“Who says? It’s the U.S. Army fighting bad guys! You can’t stop me from being patriotic!” Taylor huffed, crossing her arms with righteous indignation.

Dunn’s forehead creased in frustration. “But this episode’s an hour long. It’ll end at 9 p.m.—too late for you.”

“No way! I go to bed at 9 all the time!” Taylor shook her head triumphantly, then her gem-like eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Wait… you’re not hiding women in there you don’t want me to see, are you?”

“Don’t talk nonsense!” Dunn glared.

Andrea chimed in, scolding, “Honey, watch your mouth!”

Taylor let out a dramatic “hmph,” her big eyes sizing Dunn up. Then she smirked. “I’ll just go check!”

Before he could stop her, she slipped past him like an eel and darted inside. Dunn’s face twisted in misery, teeth gritted.

Before he could explain, a shriek echoed from the house—“Ahh!!!”

Andrea flinched. Dunn’s heart skipped—did she fall?

But then Taylor stormed back out, fuming like Dunn owed her money. She thrust out nine little fingers and huffed, “Nine! Nine of them!”

“What’s nine?” Andrea blinked, confused.

Even her wildest imagination couldn’t picture Dunn stashing nine gorgeous women in his house.

Dunn had no choice but to tough it out. “Look, it’s the Band of Brothers premiere tonight, so I… invited a few friends over for a little party.”

That excuse was flimsy as hell.

A party with one guy and nine women? Even a nightclub wouldn’t get that wild!

Andrea caught the vibe—outsiders were here, and Dunn was clearly dodging. Thinking they might be VIPs, she waved Taylor over. “If there’s company, we’ll head out. Taylor, let’s go home!”

“No way!”

Taylor shook her head stubbornly, then softened her tone. “I’m sleeping over tonight!”

“What?!”

Dunn’s eyes widened.

Andrea snapped, “Taylor, stop messing around. Home, now!”

Taylor planted her hands on her hips, giving Dunn a sly, knowing look. “Dunn, can I stay tonight? Your… friends—I know a bunch of them.”

“Uh…”

“I can name them if you don’t believe me—”

“Fine!”

Dunn caught her drift. She was bargaining—stay the night, keep her mouth shut. “Andrea, she’s a kid. Loves a crowd. Let her stay—Nat can watch her.”

Hearing Natalie Portman was around put Andrea at ease. The families were tight, but Taylor was a girl and Dunn a guy—solo, it’d be awkward.

Once Andrea left, Dunn finally exhaled.

His scandals were no secret—everyone knew.

But nine women at once? That was next-level ridiculous.

Thankfully, Taylor was sharp and didn’t spill the beans.

“Come on, you little gremlin!” Dunn waved her in, half-resigned.

Taylor giggled. “Dunn, you’re such a liar! I bet Natalie isn’t even home tonight.”

“Huh?”

Dunn shot her a surprised glance. This kid’s brain was something else.

She was right—after a week of promo, Spielberg had dragged the Minority Report crew back to work. Natalie was still on set.

“I’ve gotta keep an eye on you, or you’ll tear the roof off! Hmph!” Taylor lectured him like a mini-adult, leaving Dunn torn between laughing and crying.

“You little punk, where’d you learn all this? How old are you anyway? What do you even know?”

“Who says I don’t know? My classmates are dating! We’ve had health class—grown-up stuff, I get it.” She tilted her pale chin up. “You and those women in there… there’s definitely something going on!”

“Cough!” Dunn nearly choked, crouching down fast. “Inside, you better behave. Don’t blab everything—people will laugh at you, got it?”

“Relax, I know how it works.” Taylor waved him off impatiently, muttering, “Stop treating me like a kid. Could a kid write poetry that good?”

“Alright, my little poet laureate!”

Dunn rolled his eyes, exasperated.

…

Taylor’s presence put a damper on the vibe.

Dunn could sneak a thigh graze or a chest brush and get a secret thrill, but anything bolder? Forget it.

By 7:50 p.m., everyone grabbed seats, tuned to STARZ, and waited for Band of Brothers.

Dunn plopped down in the middle of the couch, naturally.

Taylor, naturally, glued herself to his side—er, sat right next to him.

Dunn felt caged, sighing left and right.

Milla Jovovich quietly slid over to his right, hitching her skirt up a bit—her intent crystal clear.

Dunn’s eyes sparkled. He sneaked a hand over, brushed her thigh, then slipped under her skirt. Talk about a rush!

No wonder they say a wife’s no match for a mistress, and a mistress pales next to a fling.

The sneaky thrill? It hit different!

Then his phone rang. Seeing the number, his face sharpened. “Chris, it’s me.”

Chris Albrecht, STARZ’s head honcho, was on the other end, buzzing with excitement. “Dunn, huge news! As of now, STARZ has over 8 million viewers tuned in!”

“8 million?”

Dunn knew Band of Brothers would crush it—back in its original run, it hit 15 million simultaneous viewers on HBO.

Still, hearing the numbers lit a fire in him.

The past two months of Six Feet Under barely cracked 3 million viewers.

Now? Ten minutes before airtime, over 8 million households were parked on STARZ, waiting!

Legendary show!

No doubt about it—tonight, America would witness the birth of a TV legend!

“Great, keep me posted!”

They traded quick words and hung up.

It felt like the minutes before the Super Bowl—hype and nerves all rolled into one.

Luckily, Milla’s thigh pressed against his leg, melting the tension into pure excitement.

Taylor’s eagle eyes caught it. She huffed, leaned in, and whispered, “That woman next to you’s shameless—flirting with you in front of everyone.”