Madara could feel a few veins popping up on the back of his hand and forearm as the producer he was going to protect was being smooth talked by some garbage and pompous talent scout. Oh, how he'd love to punch the living daylights out of this man and run away with you, but that wouldn't be helpful to the situation at all; he'd have to endure him buttering you up from a distance, trying his hardest not to get him away from you. "Producer... could I talk to you in private? I have something to discuss with you..."