As of today, CAA has relocated to its intimidating new Century City headquarters (pictured above; we've Photoshopped out the ominously swirling, lightning-belching hellcloud the firm's partners had installed in the sky directly above the structure to remind the entire city of where the seat of industry evil is located, because we don't want to scare the children), finally forsaking the lesser agency chop-shops that clot Beverly Hills. And just one day into CAA's tenancy, longtime residents of the once-sleepy community are already watching their quaint little neighborhood be overrun by the pushy, Armani-attired hordes who will soon control The CC; we pass along the lament of one anonymous, dispirited local that was shared with us:
I'd like to tell you all about my experience at the Century City Mall today.
I went to have lunch with a friend, excited for a fish taco or two. Upon entering the food court I suddenly found myself unable to speak freely about... Well.. Anything. Everywhere you look there is another anxious bulky CAA agent in a three piece suit. Kevin Huvane walked in with a pack of eager wannabees and literally held a conference by the sushi counter before leading the charge to Panda Express. It was a nightmare. My once innocent Century City hideaway has now been taken over!
Indeed, it's all unfolding exactly as we pictured it back in June; those who once enjoyed the mall's food court should just concede CAA's culinary Anschluss and save themselves a lot of pain. In the end, Kevin Huvane and company will strategically dominate all the best tables by the Panda Express (or the sushi joint, or that Brazilian place, should a Bryan Lourd feel kicky and demand churrascaria), even if it means assigning an around-the-clock detail of assistants to permanent seat-saving duty and polluting the dining area air with the constant chatter of calls being remotely rolled from their newest agency outpost.
A Defamer operative, perhaps a little miffed that the two-day open house that CAA is holding later this week to show off the Wonkaesque inner workings of their intimidating new Century City Evil Factory might not feature valet service, slipped us these meticulously rendered self-parking instructions for its guests. (They're better off without the valets, anyway--they'd just force some junior agents into red coats for the event, who'd just ransack visitors' SUVs in a fruitless search for any concealed, delicious babies, then swipe all the loose change from their ashtrays.) But by making available such a detailed schematic, the agency has inadvertently exposed crucial vulnerabilities in their otherwise impenetrable stronghold; as you can clearly see in the above diagram, conspicuous yellow stars denote weak points in the structure's perimeter defenses, which determined teams of rebel forces from rival agencies may be able to exploit while CAA is distracted with the intake of legitimate invitees, destroying the Creative Artists Death Star from within before its roof-mounted doomsday laser is fully operational.