Post by Cass Baumer on May 14, 2017 0:21:27 GMT
DATE: 06/08/15
CAMERA: OFF
Gliding a callous hand across slick dirty blonde hair, the newest CEO of The Wellington Post studied the papers scattered across his desk. Articles ranging from the fluff — a missing dog who ran all the way back home to his owners two months after the family thought it was a lost cause, for example — to the headline pieces coated in fear-mongering sensationalism concerning a local masked small-time criminal that assaulted a 76-year-old woman while attempting to steal her purse.
"Avery! What did I tell you?" His accent was distinctly American in the midst of the capital of New Zealand. More specifically, it had a certain subtle southern twang with a hint of a New Yorker right beneath the surface.
"I, uhm. Remind me?" Avery Jackson spoke while she scurried in front of the office desk with a conservative top underneath a black formal jacket.
"You can never find good help these days, can you? I told you a thousand times... Paper is a thing of the past. If we want to compete with the rest of the market, we're going to need to put everything online. Maybe we oughta get a tech department to create us our own application or something."
"But Sawyer—"
"Mr. Burkley," the 32-year-old man corrected sternly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his swivel chair with an air of arrogance.
"Mr. Burkley," Avery addressed reluctantly through grit teeth. "We don't have that kind of money here, sir. We hardly have enough money to keep operating from this small building on the side of town, and some people have complained that the coffee machine keeps breaking down. Maybe when you were working small time for The New York Times, those guys had enough money to pay for everything, but we don't have money in the budget for any massive expenses."
"Remind me again why I'm here then, Avery," the boss responded smugly to his assistant, folding his hands together on the desk in front of him.
"The former CEO of The Wellington Post retired, sir. The board sought after someone who was able to push the company to the 21st century," she recited like she was reading a tired script she's read aloud a thousand times, an annoyed roll of her eyes following the sentence.
"And yet you and 'the board' decide to stand in the way of progress," Sawyer scowled. "News outlets like us... We don't succeed in making money when we're telling the truth. We need flare. We need a Windows 10 application, an iOS application. We need to be on every Android phone, every Windows phone and every iPhone across the country to succeed in a world where everybody is reporting the same news day in and day out. So... Let's bring ourselves to the 21st century, Avery. Let's finally make ourselves relevant!"
Avery paused, blinking in response with a blank stare.
"... So you want to abandon the truth and feed everyone lies? We're not a propaganda machine, Mr. Burkley. I don't know about everyone else, and I don't know about you, but that's NOT why I decided to become a journalist. I—"
As the office doors swung open, a blonde young woman wearing a Wellington Post snapback cap and a warm leather jacket. Sticking her palms into the back pockets of her blue jeans, she eyed the new boss and Avery Jackson who stood defiantly on the opposite end of the desk.
"Ah. Cassandra Baumer! She's a rising star here. Did you know that, Avery?" Sawyer smirked in Jackson's direction, earning a scowl in return. Shifting his sight towards the journalist that recently walked through the door, Avery continued as his eyes scanned Cass' body with unsettling intentions. "Mr. Anderson told me a lot about you before I took his job. Actually... You came at a good time. Tell me. Would you rather stick to the archaic ways of the past and keep telling the truth from the slums of New Zealand or would you rather allow The Wellington Post to succeed beyond your wildest dreams? All it would take would be a little sensationalism— exaggerating the facts to gain more views on a daily basis. More views mean more money, and more money means a bigger paycheck in your pocket."
Before Cass could even respond, Avery Jackson chimed in.
"What he means to say is... Would you rather blatantly lie and spread misinformation to succeed or would you rather keep some semblance of journalistic integrity so the people can hear the news meant to be told instead of a poor imitation?"
"The people?" Sawyer scoffed. "Who even reads our shit anymore? People are getting all their news from Fox News and CNN. They're watching YouTube and accepting what everyone else tells them as gospel. With a few adjustments, we could be the hottest news outlet in New Zealand, and all it would take was a little imagination."
"Look..." Cass decided to finally speak, eyes flickering back and forth between the two. "I didn't come here to referee an argument. My opinion doesn't even represent the feelings of the rest of the team. It's just that Jeff wanted to know the deal with all the commotion so I figured I'd check it out, y'know?"
"Just because your opinion doesn't represent the views of the entire team doesn't make your thoughts any less valuable," Sawyer responded, laying on the charm.
"One hundred percent honest?" Cass began, looking down towards her sneakers and glancing back at Avery and Sawyer. "I think compromising the truth to get ahead is pretty damn shady. Falling in line, resorting to yellow journalism, confirmation bias... Professors back in college warned us about that. We're supposed to be objective."
Avery grinned wide, noticing Cass was on her side.
"Thank you, Cassandra," Sawyer Burkley spoke, words drenched in feigned professionalism. "We'll keep what you've said in mind. You can get back to work now."
As Cass left the room, Avery spoke up again.
"So we're going to stick to the truth then?" Hope swelled up within her as she said those words.
"Oh God, no! We're doing things my way now," Sawyer proudly stated, deflating every ounce of hope Avery had. "Mr. Anderson wanted The Wellington Post to thrive and reach the 21st century. He asked me to lead the charge, not you and certainly not Cassandra. If you've got a problem with the new direction, I can happily fire you, and you can take your precious journalistic integrity elsewhere. Otherwise? We follow my lead."
Avery looked stunned. Mr. Anderson promised she would be able to keep this job despite the management change and now it was suddenly in jeopardy.
"Don't look so glum, Avery. Once we're on the map, assuming you stay on the payroll, I'm sure you'll be more than happy to know everyone on the team — including you — will be heavily compensated without that pesky integrity standing in the way of The Wellington Post's success."