Four

Edgar Cavanaugh believed in acquiring information. To him having the right information was power. He had build his whole empire dispensing information.

His father Edgar Cavanaugh Sr. owned a small time local newspaper and had never thought of going big. Simple fellow my father, he said to himself. The world had changed. People who had held on to the old ways had been taken to the cleaners. Good thing I was around at the right time he thought. Or else Father would have thrown away my birthright clinging to the mantra; 'the news is only as good as the credibility of the source.'

The vague information held as much significance as the right one he had realized during the early part of his life. He had completely turned the company around when he became in charge at the tender age of twenty. The declining print media outlet had been refashioned into a giant in the business.

But the remodeling hadn't stopped there. He had diversified and was now involved in entertainment. The showbusiness was tricky but he had managed to win a big chunk of viewership for himself and his media group. The best way is to grind it out he had often told himself. That's the secret of becoming a cutthroat businessman. And his comitment had played dividends when he had weakened his competitors to the point of bankruptcy.

Singlehandedly he had worked tirelessly to establish his brand. He hadn't taken on a family for this reason. According to him they only get in the way He pitied the fool who didn't challenge the norms. He could have let his father's legacy sink piece by piece but he chose to act and within two decades had evolved into a revered media mogul.

Having everything that any average person would have to be imaginative to even fathom his thirst for power was ununquenchable. He knew that he needed to find new avenues to dish out his product. He didn't feel that he had exhausted all the firepower he knew he had in him. He needed to diversify further.

Through time he had discovered an entirely untapped audience. An affluent group of people who would go to any lengths to fulfill their desires. Even if that meant being on the wrong side of the law and endorsing material that wasn't socially acceptable.

He had found the specific group of people in the most unlikely place and gradually started investing in a business model that was a win win for all the parties involved . What came together was truly remarkable. And not to mention the commendation he received for his humanitarian efforts.

He was returning from his biannual charity dinner and what he had gathered from today's function was that Capitalism was dying a slow death. Now people invested for a cause. The feel good factor was too important to pass up for people of today. If the packing of a product said that two percent of it's profits go to charity it would sell like crazy. They didn't care where the money went as long as it satisfied a void within them. And people got a chance to enhance their political agenda from it. The possibilities were endless.

The audience he had targeted for his most recent venture were not the typical average Joes. They were a select group of people who new their way around the internet and navigated the darkest aspects of what it had to offer. The growing media had thought of everything and catered to every man's need. These freaks received their money's worth and he capitalized on the spoils.

These individuals appreciated real emotions, not the ones depicted in the fake reality shows watched by the typical housewives. The people who turned up to watch their fetishes gratified wouldn't even pass a basic psychological exam. There is something real wrong with the world and it's inhabitants he mused. Perverted, sick and demented people. The world was full of them. These people wanted actualization of their darkest emotions and he was giving it to them.

He was on his way back to his upper east side Manhattan penthouse. What he enjoyed more than power was a good heavy meal. He made an occasion out of every meal and almost always ate enough for three. Keeping a proper physique had been easy for him. He did not go for a run to burn the calories or train in the gym. He just purged it all out when he felt his stomach erupting.

He was off average height and extremely thin with a full head of hair with grey streaks alternating between blond. A full red face with a tanned body. Although he had money he lived a simple life with no distractions. He prided himself on being sober for fourteen years. He had decided long ago that he was not going to go out like his father. In the last few years of his life Edgar Cavanaugh Sr. had not given his loved ones good memories to remember him by. People waste away their lives to drink and drugs he assessed. They should be grateful for their lives and live it to the full.

It was ten exactly of the night when he received the call. The distressed caller at the other end carefully and apologetically poured his heart out and asked for advice. Edgar ended the call without responding.

He had to see it himself. He took out his computer and studied the feed with his own eyes. Then he studied the numbers and a smile began to twirl on the corner of his lips. Fools. These simpletons don't realise the importance of what I'm creating. I am in the market for whatever sells. Do I care for some pathetic low life who succumbed to my schemes. Hard luck that was it. If the local government had cared they would have given him better security. He had often found ways to comfort himself by rationalizing.

The feed was okay. The director hadn't panicked filming it. He liked people who could hold their own under pressure. He smelled an opportunity. These novices had only scratched the surface thus far. Changes need to made. If they want entertainment I'll give it to them. They haven't seen anything yet. He took out his phone and dialed an international number. He had a nice long talk with his contact.

The driver brought the car into a halt in front of his building. He could only eat well at the privacy of his home and not in front of casual bystanders. He got out of his car and hurried inside. Edgar Cavanaugh was yearning for food.