"Martin, we just received a letter from Marvel Studios. They're inviting you to direct and write Iron Man. What do you think?"
"Drew, schedule a meeting with them. Before I leave New York, find a time for an interview as soon as possible."
"Got it, I'll call them right away."
…
New York
"Martin, have you tried the coffee here? It's fantastic. They roast the beans in-house using a special method, and each cup has its own unique aroma."
At the café, Avi Arad sat across from Martin, enthusiastically recommending the coffee. He was clearly a fan.
Martin wasn't a coffee addict, but he casually ordered a cup anyway, then smiled and said, "Avi, let's get down to business."
Avi took a slow, satisfied sip, clearly savoring the moment.
Martin didn't rush him. He simply waited, smiling.
Little fox.
Old fox.
Finally, Avi spoke. "Martin, have you seen the job offer Marvel sent over for Iron Man? Got any thoughts?"
Martin nodded. "I've read it. I'm grateful to Marvel for trusting me, and I'm happy to take on both directing and screenwriting. However, I do have one small request—"
"What is it?" Avi asked.
"Meyers Pictures would like to co-invest in the film."
"We're not short on funds," Avi replied politely but firmly.
Martin smiled. "Maybe not, but you're short on guarantees."
Avi blinked. "Guarantees?"
"A guarantee that this film will be a success."
As he spoke, Martin reached into the bag beside his chair and pulled out a stack of documents, handing them to Avi. "Here's a breakdown of all the films Meyers Pictures has invested in over the years. Take a look."
Avi flipped through the pages. His expression gradually shifted—from mild interest to growing surprise.
The numbers spoke for themselves. Since its inception, Meyers Pictures hadn't produced a single flop. Every title had been a success.
The glowing box office figures made his heart race.
This wasn't just any film for Marvel Studios. Spider-Man, X-Men, and Hulk had all been licensed out to other studios. Iron Man was their first major in-house production—the cornerstone of Marvel Studios' future.
Failure was not an option.
Avi had fought tooth and nail to reclaim Marvel's scattered character rights and set up the studio. The pressure was enormous.
If Iron Man succeeded, it would unlock a new era of superhero films. If it flopped, Marvel Studios might crumble before it ever got off the ground—and Avi's own career path would be wrecked.
He was 58, but his entrepreneurial drive hadn't faded. He'd poured in time, energy, and political capital to bring Marvel Studios to life.
Now, the track record of Meyers Pictures looked like something out of a fantasy. Nearly ten years without a single failure?
It wasn't just about ability—it was starting to feel like metaphysics.
And if there's one thing Hollywood is superstitious about… it's luck.
If bringing Meyers Pictures on board meant tipping the scales toward success, then maybe giving up a slice of the pie wasn't so bad.
Just then, Avi's phone rang.
"Sorry," he said. "Let me take this."
"Go ahead," Martin said.
Avi stepped outside to answer.
"Hello? Stan? What's up?"
"How's the meeting going?"
"Martin agreed. He's willing to take on Iron Man."
"Fantastic!"
Stan Lee's voice crackled with excitement. The legendary creator had long supported the idea of Martin directing.
"But," Avi continued, "he's got one condition."
"What is it?"
"Meyers Pictures wants to co-invest."
On the other end, Stan didn't hesitate. "Give it to him."
Avi was a little taken aback by his old friend's decisiveness. "You don't even want to think it over?"
"What's there to think about? He's helping ease our financial burden. Plus, Martin's got way more clout in Hollywood than we do. We'll probably need his connections for distribution. He's still a director at Disney and Warner, after all. And if he's investing his own money, that means he'll be fully committed. How is this a loss for us?"
"Well… if the movie becomes a hit, he'll be entitled to a good chunk of the profits."
Stan laughed. "If it's a hit. And if it is, we'll make a killing on merchandise alone. That's where the real money is. Wait—he's not asking for a cut of the merchandise, is he?"
"I haven't gotten into those details yet."
"Then make sure of that. As long as merchandise rights stay with us, I don't care how much he takes from the box office."
…
Avi returned to the table, composed and smiling.
Martin could tell his stance had softened—and he pressed his advantage without hesitation.
Eventually, a deal was struck: Meyers Pictures and Marvel Studios would each provide half the funding. However, Martin's director and screenwriter fees would be rolled into the investment, giving Meyers Pictures a 58% stake. They would also receive a share of video sales, but all merchandise rights would stay with Marvel.
Everyone walked away satisfied.
Soon after, news broke that Martin Meyers would be directing Iron Man.
Clearly, Marvel was using the announcement to build hype.
Martin's name alone was enough to ignite the media. A single rumor triggered a wildfire of speculation online.
"What?! Martin's directing Iron Man?"
"Wait, Martin's starring in Iron Man?"
"Hold on, is Martin going to become Iron Man?"
"No way—Martin built the Iron Man suit himself?!"
"Martin wore a metal suit and went to fight in Afghanistan?!"
"Martin wiped out the Afghan rebels?!"
"What…?!"
At Meyers Pictures, laughter echoed from Martin's office.
Ivanka's voice rang out playfully. "So, how'd I do?"
Martin chuckled. "Brilliantly, my little cutie. Looks like handing PR over to you was the right move."
"Of course!"
"I think you deserve a reward."
"What kind of reward—mmph, ah, mm—"
A strange sound followed.