The five of them coming together was really quite simple. They already knew each other, their interests overlapped, and after a few private chats, the alliance came together as naturally as vultures circling a carcass. Meeting to plot afterward was inevitable.
At this moment, they all faced one shared problem:
The Voice was blocking their path.
So, obviously, taking down The Voice was their top priority. The only question left was how.
Generally, there are two ways to attack—internal or external.
But given the situation, the most effective business warfare tactic, the "empire collapse" method, was off the table.
Michael Eisner might still technically be Disney's tyrant, but his grip had weakened. He could no longer say no to Robert Iger.
Ted Turner and Steve Case, though the largest and second-largest individual shareholders of AOL Time Warner, couldn't exactly stab the "Rockefeller family's loyal servant" in the back while he strutted around as their so-called leader.
So, after some brief discussion, "internal collapse" got tossed out the window.
That left "external assault"—shake them from the outside to cause chaos inside.
In business warfare, external assaults often meant manipulating public opinion.
For example, when Mixue Bingcheng got hit with a "used lemons" scandal, their brand tanked overnight.
When reputation is your product, one well-timed smear can kill you.
So the group quickly reached a consensus:
if they could ruin The Voice's reputation, they could win.
And as for specifics...
"I've already thought of a plan," Eisner said, scanning the others.
They nodded, ready to let him go first. If his plan worked, they wouldn't have to dirty their own hands.
"Okay. Does anyone here remember Michael Arndt?"
When no one interrupted, Eisner continued,
"I'm going to have Arndt come forward and say The Voice's script was originally his idea."
That's right—his plan was to accuse The Voice of plagiarism.
This was the same tactic the Weinstein brothers and Robert Shaye had once considered, but never dared to try.
But that was then.
Now, the people in this room weren't mere producers—they were titans.
News Corp, Vivendi Universal, AOL Time Warner, Disney… every one of them controlled empires.
If they decided to burn Hollywood down, the stars would just pretend they saw nothing.
So, simplicity was Eisner's creed.
They didn't want to destroy the whole industry anyway—just the obstacle in their way.
"I think this plan works," Ted Turner said first.
"I agree," said Steve Case.
"No objections," added Edgar Bronfman Jr.
Rupert Murdoch adjusted his glasses.
"Michael, Fox can run the story. If you can get Arndt to speak up, we'll give him a full interview."
Clear enough. Murdoch knew Eisner couldn't use ABC—that was Iger's turf.
Turner couldn't risk CNN—too much tied to the Rockefeller crowd.
So Murdoch volunteered his empire of gossip as the weapon.
But then he added,
"Michael, accusing The Voice of plagiarism—that's just your first move, right? Because that'll hurt them, but not destroy them."
"Exactly!" Eisner clapped his hands. "Calling out The Voice's originality is only step one—the first half of step one. The second half is accusing the show of copying its format."
He smirked. "We'll find a few similar talent shows and have their producers sue for plagiarism. It's not about winning—it's about making them stink."
"The real soul of The Voice," Eisner continued, "is Isabella Haywood. Unless we ruin her, the show will survive. Maybe not as the next Millionaire, but still profitable. And that's unacceptable to us."
The others nodded.
They all knew these lawsuits would go nowhere.
The script was clearly original. They'd seen the drafts of Little Miss Sunshine—not even remotely similar.
And as for format? In the West, copyright laws protect creative content, not generic structures.
If they didn't, Super Mario would have been sued out of existence for being a side-scroller.
Games, shows—some mechanics belong to the public domain.
The Voice was safe.
So the plagiarism attack was just smoke.
The real weapon would be the filth they could dump on Isabella herself.
Eisner turned to Turner. "Ted, any dirt from your end?"
Turner shook his head. "Nothing. The girl's clean. Her family too. No scandals to dig up."
Of course, leaking scandals was an old capitalist sport.
Tom Cruise learned that the hard way when Paramount's Sumner Redstone exposed his Scientology ties and anti-psychiatry views after a profit dispute. It was pure business vengeance:
You threaten my money—I ruin your life.
That was how the game was played.
So when Turner said there was nothing, Eisner turned to Murdoch.
"Rupert, you got anything?"
Murdoch just sighed. Everyone laughed quietly—they all knew what that meant.
Eisner was basically asking the king of dirty media if he could dig something up.
Murdoch had built his empire on lies, leaks, and late-night phone taps.
But this time…
"She doesn't use her phone much," Murdoch said eventually.
"She owns one, but doesn't take direct calls. People contact her mother or sister first, and then she calls back. With that delay—and a third party involved—there's no private info to exploit."
The table fell silent for a moment. Then Turner shook his head.
"She really is a perfect kid."
No one disagreed.
When both "leaks" and "wiretaps" failed, all eyes turned back to Eisner.
Did he have a Plan C?
He tapped the table with one finger, smirking.
"Looks like even God wants Isabella destroyed."
"Since none of you have dirt, we'll use my idea—'malicious profiteering.'"
He leaned forward.
"From one angle, Isabella's talented—acting, singing, producing. But from another, she's just milking her fans again and again. And at outrageous prices."
He paused, savoring the irony.
"If I recall, her mini-album didn't even have any MVs, right?"
"So imagine this: a five-track EP, no music videos, selling for $49.99—and two of those tracks are covers. That's not sincerity. That's exploitation."
He sneered, mimicking a tabloid tone.
"Oh, The New York Observer called her 'authentic'? Please. This girl? Authentic?"
Smearing someone takes finesse. Too clean, it won't stick. Too filthy, it backfires.
Sex rumors? Off limits. She's only thirteen. The FBI would be at their door before the ink dried.
But accusations of greed—of using her fans? That's safe.
No law protects you from being called greedy.
And there was enough truth to sting.
She'd been everywhere:
Chamber of Secrets last November.
The Voice in December.
A mini-album and soundtrack that March.
Then VHS releases for both by April.
Even if only her personal EP was directly tied to her, she appeared to profit from them all.
That was all they needed.
And the "evidence"?
Her EP really didn't have MVs.
And she really did include covers.
What better way to "prove" she didn't care about fans?
Eisner grinned. He knew exactly where to strike.
"As long as we hit her on that one word—'sincerity'—we'll destroy her reputation."
"All we need is to convince the public she's fake. That she's just another greedy celebrity manipulating idiots."
"Once that happens, The Voice will implode on its own."
Ted Turner chuckled. "Now that is a beautiful plan."
After listening to Eisner's pitch, Ted Turner's lips curled up.
"I think this attack could actually work. And as for the source of the leak—let's use my Fox network again."
Murdoch took on the job without hesitation.
Little Bronfman said nothing, but the grin on his face spoke volumes.
As for Steve Case…
Maybe Eisner humiliating him earlier had bruised his ego.
Or maybe he just thought the plan could still be refined.
Either way, even though he nodded in agreement, he still frowned and asked,
"Michael, I don't think your plan ends here, does it?"
"Because from what I'm hearing, this is basically just a more elaborate version of what the Weinstein brothers failed to do before."
"And… what if the public doesn't believe Isabella would actually exploit her fans for money? Then what?"
That jab made Eisner's eyes narrow.
He was clearly irritated.
Case's tone implied that Eisner was unoriginal—copying someone else's failed scheme—and worse, that he didn't have the guts or creativity to make it work.
But the annoyance faded in a blink.
Eisner shot Case a glance, then looked around the table and smiled again.
"Of course, Steve, you're right. What I've said so far is only half the plan. I always believe in the rule of one strike, one kill."
"If I make a move, I'm going to make damn sure my opponent never gets back up."
"So yes, my plan has three steps."
At that, Eisner's tongue ran across his lips, and his face twisted into a gleeful, manic grin.
"In my plan, the first step is to throw smoke bombs at Robert Iger and Barry Meyer—make them believe all our attacks are aimed at The Voice itself."
"Once their attention is locked on the show, we move to step two—hit Isabella directly. Destroy her reputation while they're still confused."
"If we can take her down at this stage, perfect."
"But if we can't—say the public refuses to believe a thirteen-year-old girl would knowingly cash-grab—then we move to step three."
"We shift the narrative. We say it's not her fault."
"We blame it all on Disney and Warner Bros."
"The public doesn't believe Isabella would exploit her fans?" Eisner sneered. "Fine."
"We'll mobilize every media outlet we control to push a new story—she's being used by the corporations. Disney and Warner have turned her into a money-making machine. She's been working non-stop since she debuted! She's exhausted! She's trapped!"
"She's unhappy!"
"So—"
"We must save Isabella!"
"Boycott Disney and Warner!!"
"Let The Voice DIE!!!"
The shout cracked through the room.
Every man there froze, eyes wide.
They all saw the madness in Eisner's eyes.
This wasn't just a well-prepared strike—it was suicidal genius.
That third step was sheer nuclear warfare.
By framing Isabella as a victim of corporate greed, he wasn't just attacking a show—he was igniting a class war.
Disney and Warner were capital.
Isabella, a 13-year-old girl, clearly wasn't.
The implication was obvious.
This was either victory or mutually assured destruction.
If it worked—
Eisner would dethrone Robert Iger and Roy Disney, reclaiming his empire.
If it failed—
He'd drag them all into the abyss with him.
He wasn't just playing for blood; he was playing for extinction.
"I've got no objections," Murdoch said first.
He thought Eisner's plan was brilliant.
After all, he ran News Corp and Fox—not Disney or Warner.
The death of his competitors? Perfect.
"I'm fine with it too," said Steve Case next.
He had no personal stake in Warner's side anymore.
That left Ted Turner.
He and Eisner locked eyes for a long moment before Turner finally chuckled.
"I'm in."
"Reputation can be rebuilt. Power, once lost, is gone forever."
"When Steve Ross took over Warner, its name was dirt. But now?"
"Time cleanses everything."
That line made Eisner roar with laughter.
He'd known Turner would come around.
And Turner was right—three decades ago, Warner's name was poison, because Steve Ross had made his first fortune working with the Lucchese crime family.
And now? No one even remembered.
With Turner's nod, the Anti-Voice Alliance's first meeting came to an end.
Bronfman hadn't spoken a word, but it didn't matter. Everyone knew he'd go along.
And in Eisner's mind, Bronfman was actually the key piece of the entire plan.
Because—
"Edgar?" Eisner said after the laughter died.
"Michael?" Bronfman answered smoothly. The two men went way back; both were Jewish, both from the same powerful circles—the World Jewish Congress level of circles.
"You've been quiet. Any thoughts?"
"No. I think your plan's brilliant."
"Good. Then can you do me a favor?"
"Of course. We're allies now. If it's within my power, I'll do it."
"Great. I'll be direct. We can handle the first step ourselves. But for step two—the part where we smear Isabella as a greedy little money-grubber—we'll need someone from your side."
"Someone from my team? Fine. Who do you want?"
Bronfman didn't even hesitate.
Eisner's grin widened.
"I want your man—the number one bad boy of America."
"Eminem."