The Kings of Poverty Row, S1E5
TEASER
FADE IN:
INT. ESTEEM PUBLICATIONS BULLPEN. DAY.
As before, FRANK and ALBERT are bent over their respective drawing boards, busy making art corrections to the pages, still blabbing back and forth.
FRANK
... And you know Jack and his lunch hour pinochle game!
ALBERT
It’s sacred!
FRANK
Sacrosanct! So, when Konigsburg goes charging in there demanding his check for the latest issue of Moishe Pippic or whatever, Jack tells him to go away. Come back at one o’clock. Konigsburg knows that Jack keeps the checks in his pencil drawer, right there, two inches from his elbow, and he says, “Jack, the checks are in your pencil drawer, two inches from your goddamn elbow.” Jack must’ve had some hand because he didn’t even look up at the guy, just said, “I don’t care if I’m holding it in my goddamn teeth, I said you’ll get it after lunch!”
ALBERT
I sense an escalation in the hostilities.
FRANK
Indeed! Konigsburg replied with a threat to knock Jack’s teeth out of his mouth. Jack countered with an offer for Konigsburg to experience carnal bliss with himself. Konigsburg in turn suggested that perhaps Jack might prefer said bliss for his own dear mother instead, and then...
ALBERT
Things turned ugly.
FRANK
Like Marie Dressler at an orgy! The other players try to break it up, but the next thing they know, Konigsburg has got Jack’s tie and bum rushes him back up against the open window until the poor bastard is hanging half outside, sixteen stories over Lexington Avenue. “Either I hit the street with that check in my hand, or you hit it head-first.”
ALBERT [laughing]
Konigsburg, ever the wordsmith! What’d Jack say?
FRANK
He said, “Why didn’t you tell me you needed it so bad? Murray, give the man his check.” So, Murray puts down his cards, gives Konigsburg the check, and he lets Jack go and starts walking out.
ALBERT
Without even a thank you?
FRANK
Go figure. But before he’s out the door, Jack yells, “Konigsburg, you bastard!” Konigsburg stops, turns around, and everybody thinks, “Uh-oh, is this finally gonna be the big shoot out at the Oy Vey Corral?” and Jack growls, “You and Mimi still coming for dinner on Sunday?”
JOAN, carrying a stack of art boards, enters.
JOAN
Good morning, guys. Who’s the least busy?
FRANK and ALBERT look up at her, exchange frowns, look back at her, then simultaneously point at each other.
FRANK/ ALBERT [together]
He is!
JOAN [sing-song]
It’s the corrections for the first issue of Hero Comics.
(back to normal voice)
Lillian just finished proofreading it.
ALBERT
Sam Strong? Sure, I’ll take it. I want to take a closer look at this guy’s work.
FRANK
He’s got a nice, crisp line.
ALBERT
Yeah, and a beautiful tuchus.
Enter SHERMY, concerned, racing in and almost colliding with JOAN in his haste.
SHERMY [breathless]
The Hero Comics boards! Where...?
JOAN [holding up the art]
It’s fine, Shermy. I have them right here.
SHERMY
Great! Now... lose them!
JOAN
What?
SHERMY
Lose. Them! Make them disappear! We need to... to delay it for a day. Or two. Maybe three.
FRANK
Maybe if you tried explaining without the accompanying gibberish?
SHERMY
There are a few... wrinkles that still need to be ironed out before we go ahead. Legal wrinkles. Minor... technical wrinkles. I just need a little time to straighten things out. If the book disappeared for a couple of days...
JOAN
How’s it supposed to have gotten lost in the thirty feet between Lillian’s desk and here?
SHERMY
Yeah, okay. Good point. We can hide just the Sam Strong story...
JOAN
How is that any easier to explain.
FRANK
One page. “Misplace” one page of the book. Happens all the time around here. We can’t send it to the engravers until we’ve got all 64 pages in hand.
SHERMY
Brilliant! That’s perfect, Frank. Okay...
Closing her eyes and acting like she’s picking a winning raffle number from a bowl JOAN plucks one of the pages from the stack in her arms and hands it to ALBERT.
ALBERT
It will go where no one will ever find it... until you give me the sign.
SHERMY [relieved]
Okay. Great!
(looks around, trying to decide what to do)
I better disappear too in case I’m asked to help search for it. I’m a terrible liar.
SHERMY starts to hurry out of the room.
JOAN
Where are going?
SHERMY [pauses at door]
I’ll be Abe’s for a while. (Beat) Meet me for lunch?
ALBERT
Oh, Shermy, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to ask!
SHERMY
Not you!
(to JOAN)
You.
JOAN
Give me an hour.
SHERMY flashes and a smile, then exits.
FRANK
Adorable!
CUT TO:
ACT ONE
FADE IN
EXT. SEPTEMBER 1939. abe’s NEWSSTAND on the corner of 5th AvENue and 34th street, nyc. day.
ABE is sitting in the newsstand, selling newspapers, cigarettes, and gum to passersby. SHERMY is parked in front of the adjacent rack of magazines, comic books, and pulp magazines, nose in an issue of the lurid adventure pulp magazine, Derring-Do Monthly.
As SHERMY skims through the magazine, MR. HOOPERMAN comes by and starts examining the magazines, checking out covers, pulling out random issues to sample.
ABE
I know you’re probably as sick of hearing it as I am of sayin’ it, kid...
SHERMY
... But this is a newsstand, not a library. Yeah, yeah, I know, Abe. I just figured since I was one of your regulars...
ABE
I appreciate customer loyalty as much as the next guy, but don’t nobody wanna buy magazines that look like they’ve already been read by someone else.
SHERMY
How am I supposed to know if I’m going to like it if I can’t look to see what’s inside first?
ABE
What’s the difference? You read one of them pulp magazines, you’ve read ‘em all. Most guys just go for the ones with the dames with the biggest knockers on the cover.
SHERMY
If I bend it, I’ll buy it, okay?
ABE
In that case, I’ll leave you to your browsing.
SHERMY returns to the magazine, smiling and shaking his head. He doesn’t the notice
HOOPERMAN glancing at him.
HOOPERMAN
He’s right you know.
It takes SHERMY a moment to realize this guy is talking to him.
SHERMY
I beg your pardon.
HOOPERMAN
The newsie. He’s right about the relationship between cleavage and sales. The bigger the bust, the higher the readership.
SHERMY looks HOOPERMAN up and down, a little suspicious of the man’s motives.
SHERMY
Oh. Kay.
HOOPERMAN [chuckling]
Pardon me. I was just making an observation.
SHERMY
Sure.
SHERMY takes a step sideways away from HOOPERMAN but goes on with his browsing.
HOOPERMAN
Of course, he’s wrong that they’re all the same.
SHERMY frowns, keeps his head down.
HOOPERMAN
Some are clearly superior to others. Street and Smith, of course, are the industry leader. The Shadow, Doc Savage, Nick Carter, Amazing Stories, and all the rest. Top notch! I mean, in the last couple of years they’ve started shrinking their line, but still, cracking good stuff. What’s your poison? I prefer the military, Western, and adventure titles myself.
SHERMY has looked up while HOOPERMAN has been talking.
SHERMY
I go for the mystery heroes first. You know, like the Shadow and Doc Savage, but I never miss an issue of Weird Tales or Amazing Stories. I guess when you come right down to it, I’ll read just about anything that’s handy.
HOOPERMAN [chuckling]
Me too. Sometimes it’s not what you read but why you’re reading. I remember once, during the war, we were trapped for eight days and nights in the cellar of a house that had been blasted off its foundation by our own guns, just hours earlier. We had foolishly advanced ahead of our own lines and were surrounded. All we could do was keep our heads down, wait, and pray we weren’t discovered by a German patrol before our own boys could break through and find us. The only intact reading material I could find was a French Bible, a few volumes of Victor Hugo, likewise en français... and copies of four issues of a British pulp, Metropolitan Girl Romances.
SHERMY
Do you read French?
HOOPERMAN
No, sir, not a word. But I will read Metropolitan Girl Romances if that’s all that’s available. From cover to cover, advertisements included. Distracted me. Kept me sane, I daresay. Lurid, vapid stuff... although no more so in their own way than the raucous men’s adventure stuff, I suppose. Merely adjusted for the feminine sensibility. Men strike with their fists, women with their emotions. Anyway, I can barely remember the plots of any those love stories I read, but they left their impression on me, nonetheless. I learned something from those silly little tales of loose women and vicious, sneering men.
SHERMY
Not about relationships, I hope!
HOOPERMAN [chuckles]
No. I learned that a pulp tale is a pulp tale whether it’s about Doc Savage versus a criminal scientific mastermind, a hardboiled private eye chasing down stolen diamonds, or a young lady of dubious moral character trying to trick some rich dope into marrying her. It’s a story, see? Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy finds girl. The end.
SHERMY [nodding]
Sure. I can see that.
HOOPERMAN
Well, there it was! The secret formula to writing pulp stories burned into my brain by the half million words I crammed into it in that short duration.
SHERMY
And this was good... why?
HOOPERMAN
I had always felt a draw towards the literary arts. I had a way with words, apparently, but was lacking in, shall we say, the foxus and discipline to actually sit down and figure out exactly how to harness that ability. But suddenly, I had a blueprint to work from, a structure to follow, you understand.
SHERMY
Sure. I’m a cartoonist. Art’s the same way. One day, you discover the key that opens the door to the next level, where you find you can all of a sudden draw something you used to think was beyond your ability.
HOOPERMAN
Precisely! And as soon as I was discharged and back home, I bought a second-hand typewriter, a handful of pencils, a stack of typing paper, and started writing. And wouldn’t you know it, I sold that very first story, a fictionalization of some of my war experiences to Argosy. Argosy! The publishers of Edgar Rice Burroughs.
SHERMY
Wow! I guess that must have really launched your career.
HOOPERMAN
You would think, but the reality is, it was two years more until I sold a second story.
SHERMY
Oh, I’m sorry. From the way you were going, I expected a success story. That is, I mean...
HOOPERMAN
No, no. You’re right. Two years of rejection didn’t discourage me. Even though I was forced to go into business to support my growing family, I kept writing, kept submitting my work, and, eventually, I achieved some mild success in the field.
SHERMY
Would I have read any of your stuff? I mean, I must have read a few hundred pulps.
HOOPERMAN
I stopped using my real name quite a while back, for various business reasons, but I’ve published under several well-known pseudonyms, including Captain Lance Prescott, Major Roger Grant, Sir Percival Randolph, and, oh, of course, Hank Ryder, the Bronco Buster.
SHERMY [nodding in recognition]
Yeah, yeah. Roger Grant... Captain Prescott... and you’re Hank Rider? No kidding?
HOOPERMAN
The one and only. Well, for now. That’s the danger of writing under a nom de guerre; the reader can never really know whose hands were on the keyboard.
SHERMY
My bosses don’t believe the readers think about that, much less care.
HOOPERMAN
They’re wrong. Readers, whether fanatical or casual, have favorites authors they seek out. Louis L’Amour. Max Brand. Maxwell Grant. Zane Grey. Burroughs! They’re not popular because they get published a lot. They get published a lot because they’re popular. They speak to their audience. Don’t ever stop believing in your ability to create and connect with your readers, to have a personal vision and stay true to that. Anything else is a lie.
HOOPERMAN looks at his wristwatch and raises his eyebrows.
HOOPERMAN [cont]
Ah, and speaking of lies, I’ve a meeting with my partners shortly to take care of some important business.
SHERMY
Well, it was sure nice to meet you, sir.
SHERMY sticks out his hand to HOOPERMAN, who takes it. SHERMY pumps it enthusiastically
SHERMY [cont.]
Wow! Hank Rider himself!
HOOPERMAN [saluting]
The pleasure was all mine, young man. Good luck with your cartooning. Remember, no matter how bleak the situation, you never know when you’ll make that second sale.
HOOPERMAN turns and walks off. Smiling, SHERMY watches him go, then turns back to the newsstand. He scans the comic book titles, fingering through them, looking for something specific.
SHERMY
Hey, Abe. You got any copies of that Action Comics left?
ABE
You see any there?
SHERMY
If I did, would I be asking?
ABE
If I had them, you wouldn’t have to ask.
SHERMY
Gee, you must’ve gotten in ten or twelve copies the other day.
ABE
I told you, the kids love them cape guys.
As SHERMY continues to survey the newsstand, JOAN comes from around the corner and spots him. She sneaks up behind him, then taps him on his left shoulder, sidestepping to the right when he turns to see who’s there, then stepping to the left when he looks over his other shoulder, before starting to giggle.
SHERMY
Aren’t we too old to play peek-a-boo?
JOAN
I hope I’m never too old.
SHERMY
How are things at the office.
JOAN
So far, so good. The page I took is from near the end of the issue so Frank can stall for a while before he “discovers” it’s missing.
SHERMY
Swell! Thanks for all your help, Joan.
JOAN
I didn’t do much. Besides, you looked so desperate, Doodlebug.
SHERMY [embarrassed]
I keep telling you, Doodlebug, Boy Cartoonist is just a cartoon I do for Real Fun Comics. Nobody actually calls me that.
JOAN
I hope you don’t mind if I do?
SHERMY
Uh... mind? N-n-no... I don’t... except...
JOAN
What?
SHERMY
... Just not around anyone in the office, okay? I’ve got enough trouble having anyone take me seriously as it is.
JOAN
They take you seriously.
SHERMY [snorts]
Harold still thinks I’m the coffee boy.
JOAN
Jake knows what you’re worth.
SHERMY
Considering what he pays me, I hope that’s not true.
JOAN
Anyway, everyone else takes you seriously. Frank and Albert almost never make fun of you behind your back, and Al Adler is actually even a little afraid of you.
SHERMY
Your boss, the production manager of Pinnacle Publishing, is afraid of me? I hardly ever even see him, much less talk to him.
JOAN
It’s those notes you attach to the artboards you send upstairs when Frank and Albert have too much on their plates. Al doesn’t understand some of the big words you use. He thinks it’s a plan to show him up and replace him.
SHERMY
Ha! You want the job?
JOAN
I wish! So, you still haven’t told me. What’s the technical difficulty with Sam Strong?
SHERMY [sheepish]
That. It seems I might have gotten a little ahead of myself.
JOAN
How so?
SHERMY
Esteem doesn’t actually own the rights to publish it.
JOAN
What?
SHERMY
Esteem doesn’t actually own the rights...
JOAN
I heard you. I meant... what happened? Didn’t you talk with the artists?
SHERMY
I messed up. I met with Richter and Reiner in Mitzi’s Lunch Wagon.
JOAN
I know his food isn’t the best, but I don’t see how it could ruin the deal.
SHERMY
We didn’t even get to eat. I had them, Joan. They were ready to sign on the dotted line. And then Harold came barging in.
JOAN
Oh, no. Did he talk to them?
SHERMY
He called them bums.
JOAN
Dear lord!
SHERMY
In fairness, he thinks all artists and writers are bums.
JOAN
I’m sure that made Richter and Reiner feel better.
SHERMY
They said they don’t want to work for a man like Harold.
(beat)
I’m starting to wonder why I do.
JOAN
Because everyone has to start somewhere, usually close to the bottom.
SHERMY
In that case, I’m on my way!
JOAN
You have to tell the brothers.
SHERMY
They’ll kill me!
JOAN
You can’t publish a story you don’t the rights to. Have you tried talking to Richter and Reiner again?
SHERMY takes a letter-sized envelope from his breast pocket and shows it to JOAN.
SHERMY
I’ve been working up the nerve. I think I have a plan. It’s probably desperate and hopeless, but it’s better than nothing.
JOAN [doubtful]
“Desperate and hopeless.” That’s your plan?
SHERMY
It's either that or nothing, so, yes.
JOAN
When do you suppose you’ll be implementing Operation Desperate and Hopeless?
(checks her wristwatch)
Because it’s much later than you think.
SHERM [sighs]
I suppose there’s no time like the present, right?
SHERMY makes no effort to move.
JOAN
Would you like me to come with you, Doodlebug?
SHERMY
Kind of, yeah. Maybe if you’re there, it’ll keep things from getting out of hand.
JOAN
Why? Did they seem unstable to you?
SHERMY
I meant me. I’ll be too embarrassed to cry and beg in front of you.
CUT TO:
SCENE 2
FADE IN:
INT. ESTEEM PUBLICATIONS. JAKE AND HAROLD’S OFFICE. DAY.
JAKE is behind his desk, feet up, reading a newspaper, contentedly smoking a cigar. He takes a puff, then reaches for his coffee mug on the desk next to a bottle of Scotch and takes a big swallow, smacking his lips in satisfaction. Another puff, and he happily returns to his newspaper.
HAROLD enters, a picture of the exact opposite of JAKE’S mood; angry and sour. JAKE flips down the edge of his paper to look at him, then goes back to his reading. HAROLD hangs up his hat and coat, then goes around to his seat at his desk and falls heavily into it.
HAROLD sits staring at JAKE with that sourpuss, like he’s waiting to be acknowledged. JAKE is ignoring him behind his newspaper.
HAROLD fidgets. Opens a desk drawer. Closes it. Looks through the papers on his desk, making some noise rustling papers. He opens and slams close a few more desk drawers, progressively louder.
Still nothing from JAKE.
HAROLD sighs loudly. JAKE’S newspaper rattles, but only as he reaches out from behind it for his coffee mug, which disappears momentarily as JAKE takes a sip, then returns. Puffs of cigar smoke rise up from behind the newspaper.
HAROLD
You’ll tell me if you’re actually on fire, okay?
The corner of the newspaper folds down and the grinning JAKE, the cigar jammed into the corner of his mouth, looks at HAROLD.
JAKE
You’ll be the first to know.
HAROLD
What the hell are you so happy about?
JAKE finally lowers the paper to his lap, puffing on the cigar.
JAKE
Because, dear brother, after two years, I’m finally free of one of the two major pains in my neck.
HAROLD [suspicious]
I better not be the other one.
JAKE
Hooperman paid a visit.
HAROLD
What did he want?
JAKE
He wanted help and a handout from his business partners for his boy’s adventure book line.
HAROLD
Are we partners on that?
JAKE
Nosireebob, we are not. Esteem Comics and Pinnacle pulp magazines, yes. Boys Adventure, that’s all his.
HAROLD
You told him to go to hell, yes?
JAKE [puff-puff-grin]
I told him to go to hell... no.
HAROLD [horrified]
No?
JAKE
Yes. No.
HAROLD
What the hell are you thinking, Jake? We can’t afford to loan money to anyone right now.
JAKE
All of a sudden, you’re on such intimate terms with the books? The way I figure this, we can’t afford not to lend him the money.
HAROLD
Christ, how much interest you gonna be charging the poor schlub?
JAKE
Three percent.
HAROLD
You’re not making any sense, Jakey.
JAKE
It don’t matter if I charge him three percent or thirty percent, bubbalah, because he ain’t never gonna be able to pay it back. He’s gonna default.
HAROLD
Oy! If Poppa ever heard you talk this way...!
JAKE
Next time we visit him at Sing Sing you can tell him, and I’ll have the same word for him that I got for you: collateral!
HAROLD [pause]
Oh.
JAKE
Uh-huh. Is it beginning to sink in, tatalah?
HAROLD
Collateral. He put up his shares in Esteem and Pinnacle as collateral.
JAKE
Give the man a cee-gar! Since I was squeezing him, I convinced him he had to throw Boys Adventures into the deal.
A slow smile starts to spread across HAROLD’S face as he literally rewards himself with a cigar that he pulls from his breast pocket and lights.
HAROLD
That’s good, Jakey. That’s very good. But I thought those books of his did okay.
JAKE
They were a hit, but his distributor went down owing him a bushel and a half and he’s facing a shortfall in producing the next series.
HAROLD
He got a new distributor yet?
JAKE
Are you kidding? You think I would’ve let him have ten cents if I thought he had any chance of making coleslaw out of this rotten cabbage? Who’s gonna touch him while he’s got a bankruptcy hanging over his head?
HAROLD
So, uh... how much did you give him?
JAKE
Four gees.
HAROLD
Oy gevalt.
JAKE
It’s a bargain, Harold. Believe me. The Major’s inventory alone is worth more than that. Anyway, you know he’s got a worse nose for business than you. Relax.
HAROLD [whispers]
Yeah. Sure. Relax.
HAROLD puffs nervously on his cigar, his mind going a million miles a minute, trying to make a decision.
JAKE
And cheer up. How long have we been waiting for a chance to get rid of him?
HAROLD
Yeah. Yeah, sure.
(forces an awkward smile)
It’s good news, Jake. You done good. You just surprised me, that’s all. So... when you gonna hand over the money to him?
JAKE
Later. I’m gonna meet him at the Oyster Bar this evening and to sign the papers.
HAROLD
And give him the check?
JAKE
I said. That’s usually the way it works, right?
HAROLD
Sure, sure. I’m just saying, I guess that means he won’t be able to deposit it until tomorrow morning.
JAKE
Why would you say that?
HAROLD [acting innocent]
What? I’m making conversation.
JAKE
What’s wrong with you? You’re acting stranger than usual.
HAROLD
Something’s wrong because I’m talking? So, all right, I’ll stop talking.
JAKE
If you insist.
HAROLD turns his attention to the papers on his desk. Or pretends to. But as he shuffles and riffles through the stacks, he’s not looking at what he’s doing. He’s got the look of someone who knows he’s about to be caught for what he’s done and doesn’t know what to do about it. Then a thought occurs to him that makes his eyes go wide in fear.
HAROLD
You... I mean, you’re not planning on giving him a cashier’s check, are you?
JAKE
By you this is “stop talking”? No. I’ll give him a regular check. The Major knows we’re good for it. Why the hell do you care?
HAROLD [under his breath]
Thank god!
JAKE
What?
HAROLD
You’re always trying to get me to take more interest in the business.
JAKE
Jesus!
JAKE stands, shaking his head in annoyance and reaching for his suitcoat on the coat rack.
JAKE [cont.]
That’s it! I’m gonna go downstairs and get a decent cup of coffee. Maybe by the time I’m back, you’ll have lost interest again.
HAROLD
Bring me back one, light and sweet. And a Danish.
JAKE
No more for you. You’re already acting like you’ve had two cups too many.
JAKE exits. HAROLD sits at his desk for a few moments, watching the office door. When he’s sure JAKE is gone and won’t be coming right back, he lurches to his feet and goes around to JAKE’S desk and grabs the newspaper. He frantically rips the pages, looking for, and finally finding, the racing page.
HAROLD sits in JAKE’S chair and grabs a pencil from the desk as he starts to frantically go through the racing form, running his finger down the page, muttering to himself, occasionally circling a horse.
HAROLD [muttering]
Oh boy! This ain’t good... the way the horses been running against me, there’s nowhere near enough in the bank to cover Hooperman's four grand and everything we sent out... Jake’s gonna rip my kishkas from my stomach... I gotta make it good...just need one good horse... something... no, not him... not him... that dog has already taken enough of my money... possible... no... no... okay... no...
HAROLD reaches for the telephone. He dials, returning to his search of the racing form between each digit while it spins back. He keeps checking off or circling the occasional horse while it rings and he waits for an answer.
HAROLD [cont.]
... No... yes... maybe... no... no... Hello? Moishe, it’s Dinowitz. Listen, you gonna give me a chance to win back some of my gelt? (pause) Okay, your gelt. (pause) What a mensch! (pause) All right, ready? (pause) Uh-huh, I wanna put down five thousand...
HAROLD winces and yanks the handset away from his ear.
FROM TELEPHONE
(muffled, indistinct shouting)
HAROLD [back on phone]
Moishe... Moishe! Look, I wouldn’t ask you to lay it all on one race. (pause) Yeah, that’s right. I’ll spread it around. I win a race or two, it don’t break your bank. (pause) I know I ain’t never put down this kind of dough before, but there’s a first time for everything. (pause) Look, last bet I made with you, I handed you two thousand bucks, cash. You know I’m good for it.
HAROLD leans anxiously forward, listening. After a few moments, a smile starts to spread across his face.
HAROLD [cont.]
Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, sure. I know the terms. No problem, Moishe. Okay. You ready? Gonna start with the last race at Belmont... the number seven horse, a grand to show...
FADE OUT
This is where I stopped working on The Kings of Poverty Row, but the rest of the story goes something like this: Shermy convinces Richter and Reiner to sign a contract with him personally instead of with Esteem to publish Sam Strong with the creators keeping full rights to their character. Shermy pays them out of his own pocket and then slips an agreement giving Esteem the one-time publishing rights to Sam Strong in with a batch of vouchers he has Jake sign off on. Harold meets with Hooperman and gives him a check for the $4K loan, which the publisher will use to pay off his creditors while he looks for a new distributor for his Boys Adventure books. Jake's hopes to win back the money he's been embezzling from Esteem Comics with one big bet to cover everyhting before his thefts are discovered are dashed when every horse he bet on fails to run in the money. Hooperman makes it to the bank early enough to be able to cash the check before the rest of the Dinowitz's checks start to bounce.
Meanwhile, Harold had agreed to let Fine Arts Syndicate have the newspaper syndication rights to Sam Strong and has been forced to give 20% of the character to the loan sharks he owes money to. Then it all unravels! Esteem Comics payments to their suppliers start bouncing and they're cut off by the separators, typesetters, printers, etc. they owe...and then Shermy reveals that Richter and Reiner still own Sam Strong, voiding the deals with Fine Arts Syndicate and with the loan shark. Esteem Comics is finished... and both Jake and Harold are in way over their heads to Mosihe, the bookie/loan shark, forcing them to leave town as fast as they can. Shermy, Joan, Frank, Albert, and the rest of the staff are out of work.
But it's Hooperman to the rescue! After paying off his debts, he was able to negotiate with a new distrubutor to pick up his Boys Adventure books and pay back the loan the loan from Esteem Comics. Through a quirk in his agreemwnt with the brothers, he was made an officer in the comic book publisher, which enables him to use his repayment to the company to then pay Esteem's debts and keep publishing the comics and the pulps, which Hooperman wants to personally supervise. When he learns Shermy is one of his employees, he makes him the new head of Esteem Comics, and also agrees to pick up Sam Strong while allowing Richter and Reiner to keep the rights.
And Shermy and Joan finally get together, and everybody lives happily ever after.
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