May 1999, Memphis, Tennessee. In a vast warehouse, forklift trundles past racks that stretch into the distance and tower overhead.

On those racks are boxes, boxes full of toys. From Burbies and Playstations to Yoyos and Spice Girls dolls.

On foot, employees scurry around grabbing toys and adding them to conveyor belts.

The toys roll along the belts and converge to form a rushing river of playthings

flowing towards the employees in the packing area.

There, the employees snatched the toys off the belts and box them up.

Then they load them onto the FedEx trucks that will fan out from Memphis across the nation to deliver

those toys to customers front doors. This is the future

of retail. Those stores shopping trolleys or check-out lines. Just websites, warehouses, and 18 wheelers. And toys are

us. Once to own it. Last Christmas, Walmart replaced it is America's top toy seller.

So now Toys R Us's best hope is to conquer online toy sales.

But while the Forklifts roam the new warehouse it bought for its e-retail arm,

troubles brewing in California. In a meeting room in Silicon Valley, Bob Moog, the boss of Toys R Us.com, outlines his business plan to a bunch of executives

who flown in from Toys R Us headquarters in New Jersey.

E-commerce is a land grab.

The companies that get market share today will be the winners of tomorrow.

So to get that market share, we undercut everyone. E- Toys, Walmart, KB, everyone.

Even our own stores."

A Toys-A-R-S.S. executive interrupts.

No way, you're not undercutting our stores.

Moog pushes back.

Undercutting will undermine our rival's ability to ramp up their inventory

...