 Who does Click refer to as the “Big Producer?”
The Monster Maker By RAY BRADBURY "Get Gunther," the official orders read. For Click and Irish were marooned on the pirate's asteroid—their only weapons a single gun and a news-reel camera. [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Spring 1944. Click Hathaway's camera was loaded and he stood there listening to it rack-spin film between his fingers, and he knew he was getting a damned sweet picture of everything that was happening. The picture of Marnagan hunched huge over the control-console, wrenching levers, jamming studs with freckled fists. Click Hathaway felt the ship move under him like a sensitive animal's skin. Hathaway only knew he was picked up and hurled against a lever-bank, and that Marnagan wasn't long in following, swearing loud words. A sweeter one still of Marnagan beating hell out of the controls and keeping his words to himself until just now. "Is this where the Big Producer yells CUT!?" And when I'm ready I'll inform you and you can picture me profile for Cosmic Films!" Hathaway felt himself grabbed; he and Marnagan rattled around—human dice in a croupier's cup. They stood in the middle of a pocked, time-eroded meteor plain that stretched off, dipping down into silent indigo and a rash of stars. "If we walk in opposite directions, Click Hathaway, we'd be shaking hands the other side of this rock in two hours." Upon the sharp meteoric rocks Hathaway saw the tangled insides of the radio, the food supply mashed and scattered. If it's proof you want, I've got it here, on film." "It's not proof we need now, Click. Oh, God, this would make great news-release stuff if we ever get back to Earth. I.P.'s Irish Marnagan, temporarily indisposed by a pirate whose dirty face has never been seen, Gunther by name, finally wins through to a triumphant finish. Photographed on the spot, in color, by yours truly, Click Hathaway. Cosmic Films, please notice." Marnagan said, "We're working on margin, and we got nothin' to sweat with except your suspicions about this not being an accident. After that—right or wrong—you'll be Cosmic Films prettiest unmoving, unbreathin' genius. "Gravity should not act this way, Click." Click's voice gasped it out, as Marnagan squeezed his two-hundred-fifty pounds beside him. Instinctively, Hathaway added, "Asteroid monsters!
 A Higher Power or God
 His boss at Cosmic Films  The Captain of Luna Base  A Higher Power or God  Gunther