Scene: A stark conference room, mid-afternoon. Peter Coyote addresses the room with razor-sharp authority, eyes scanning his fellow executives like he’s reading them the unvarnished truth about the consumer game. His tone is clipped, impatient, punctuated with sharp pauses.

Peter Coyote: (leaning in, voice sharp) Let’s cut the romance, shall we? We’re not in the magic business. We’re in the money business. And our clients? They’re not “guests,” they’re consumers. And consumers—real consumers—aren’t interested in value; they’re interested in the feeling of value.

(pauses, scanning the room)

You want to know what consumers want? More for less? Think again. They want to pay more for less and feel like they’re getting more. You just have to tell ‘em it’s worth it, and make them say “thank you” on the way out.

(he paces)

Quality? That’s not what they’re here for. If they wanted quality, they’d cook their own damn food, make their own fun. They’re here because they don’t want to think. They want us to think for them, give them the package deal—the Deluxe, the Premium, the All-Access. You throw a little “limited edition” tag on it, they’ll trip over each other for a shot at a half-rate experience.

(laughs dryly)

And subscriptions? We don’t even have to try to justify the price hikes. Doesn’t matter what’s in the library; we raise the price, they keep signing up. Why? Because they’re not just buying entertainment—they’re buying membership in the tribe. They’ll take whatever we give ‘em because they want to belong.

(stops, turns to face the board directly)

We don’t need innovation. We need security. Stick to the franchises, the old names. New ideas? You’re wasting your time. Give ‘em something they know. Safety sells, folks. Every time. And they’ll keep lapping it up.

(leans in, voice lowers)

As for the service cuts, let’s call it what it is: it’s a filter. The real fans will stay even when we trim a few perks, lose a few smiles. They’re invested. They’ve got skin in the game. We make it a little rough around the edges? Those who stay are the ones who’ll pay more, every single time.

(he crosses his arms, smirking)

And when they fork over for those $20 sandwiches, for that “free Wi-Fi” that ain’t free, for those hotels that look good in the brochure? They don’t blink. They’ll gripe, but they’ll come back. Because we’re not selling them a product. We’re selling them a lifestyle choice. They can grumble all they want about the cost, but you and I know the truth—they’ll keep coming back for the privilege of being taken.

(leans back, smile faint and knowing)

We keep cutting costs, keep raising prices, and they’ll keep buying in, happily saying “thank you.” And when we’re done here? We walk away with their money—and they’ll thank us for it.

(A beat, then he gives a dry, cold smile. The boardroom erupts in nods and murmured agreement.)

Peter Coyote: (leans in, voice firm, cutting through the room) ABC, folks. Always. Be. Cutting. The only rule in this business. Always be cutting. That’s the difference between us and them. They want to feel full, want to feel like we care about value, about experience. But what do we know? We know that less is more. Less service, more loyalty. Less product, more price. Every cut we make—every little slice off the top—that’s a line straight to the shareholders’ wallets.

(picks up a report and waves it)

Cutting’s an art. Anyone can slash, anyone can gut a budget. But to cut and leave them wanting more? That takes finesse. We don’t just cut costs—we cut strategically. We trim the fat, we pull back the perks, we shave down every experience to the bone… but we leave just enough that they think they’re missing out on something exclusive.

(leans forward, voice softer, but sharp)

You know what’s funny? We used to add value. Used to pile on features, extra events, giveaways—stuff. We don’t add anything anymore. We subtract, but we tell ‘em it’s special. Limited access, fewer seats, a shorter window. And they line up, because they think what’s left must be worth more.

(paces, glancing at each board member)

Listen to me: we are not builders. We are cutters. Cutting is our business. It’s not enough to sell what we’ve got; we sell what’s gone. We take a perk away, we bring in more profit. We turn off the freebies, they pay to turn ‘em back on. Always be cutting. Take away, scale back, remove—until what’s left is a premium product by virtue of absence.

(pauses, lets it sink in)

Here’s the real beauty of it. They think it’s their choice to pay more. They think they’re saying “yes” to a premium experience. But they’re just saying “yes” to less. That’s the brilliance. And with every cut, every perk removed, we make them feel like they’re getting in on something scarce, something luxurious.

(smirks)

So, what’s our job? To keep finding ways to cut. ABC. You don’t sell the steak—you sell the sizzle. And if the sizzle gets old, you cut it, sell ‘em the smoke.