Know what you're signing...

"The difference is, I lie for a reason." The man said.
"I beg your pardon?" I asked, turning towards him.
"Oh I'm sorry," He said. "I didn't mean to interrupt..." His voice was soft, cultured and oddly compelling.
We were sitting at the bar in the Starlight Lounge, Hollywood California. 
I looked him up and down. Older, handsome, my first thought was "lawyer." Armani suit, Hugo Boss shoes and a rose gold Patek-Philippe "Grand Complications" watch. All gave him the unmistakable reek of power and money. I hadn't noticed him when we came in, funny that.

I turned back to my agent, Bill Leslie of the William Leslie Talent Agency. He stood and touched me on the shoulder. "Look, Dave. I've got a meeting in 20. I've really got to run, thanks for the drink. Again, I'm sorry we had to drop you!" 
"Come on Bill; I just need the right role!"
"Sorry Dave, 12% of nothing is nothing...the jobs aren't there." He spread his arms in a "whatcha gonna do" gesture as he backed away. "I'll call if I reconsider."
"Shit..." I muttered into my drink.
"Your friend's a liar," The man spoke again. "and I know liars!"
"What are you talking about?" I asked him.
"You really believe that crap he was handing you?"
"Well...it's a tough business!" I replied.
"I know who you are David, and you were not well served by the William Leslie Agency. I represent Mammon Entertainments, and we'd like to represent you. My card." He said, producing it as if by magic. Rich, heavy card stock that read simply:

Mammon Entertainments

L.F. Angel

President/CEO

"I'm listening..." I said.

"We'll make you rich my boy, and famous! Everything you have ever dreamed of in your heart of hearts. Cars, women, travel!

The adulation of millions of fans worldwide!"
I nodded. "Go on."
"Mr. Leslie doesn't have time for you because he doesn't see your potential; I do! He's too preoccupied with his two mistresses. Diddling the babysitter and defrauding his clients of millions of dollars. My main focus is you!"

"Now I happen to know," He continued. "that you have $18.37 in your bank account. No," He said, holding up a hand. "don't ask how I know. Furthermore, the twenty in your pocket will just about cover your bar tab. You need work, and you need money. Sign with me, at the same 12% Leslie was charging, and I'll give you a $5000 cash advance."

He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew some papers.
"I have here one of my standard contracts, with the terms I've described clearly spelled out. Sign it and you'll walk out of here with $5000 in your pocket and a career. Hell, I'll even pick up your bar tab!" Having said this, he produced an antique Montblanc fountain pen and laid it upon the contract.

"I don't know," I said. "I've been with Bill since I got here..."
"And what has that gotten you?" He asked. "A couple of bit parts, in let's face it, "B" movies. A sidekick role on a failed pilot...my boy, you could be so much more! Have so much more!"
"You know what? You're right! All he's ever gotten me are crap roles! Where do I sign?" I asked, snatching up the pen.
The man smiled as he flipped to the last page.
"Sign here and here and your initials there and date it if you please."
As I put pen to paper I felt a brief sting but kept signing, the ink red against the white page.

When I finished, he picked up the paper and blew the signatures dry. As he did so, my cell rang. The man smiled.
It was Bill Leslie.
"Hello?"
"Dave? Look I've changed my mind; I just talked to the producers and Deniro's out! They want to go with someone younger, and they brought up your name!!! Get your ass over here, and we'll get you signed ASAP."
"Sorry Bill, I just signed with Mammon Entertainments. I'm with their president now, what was your name again?" I asked looking at the card once more.
"Oh, you can call me Lucifer..."
"And the F. stands for?"
"Fallen," He said with a wink.