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A Smark's Big Find (Pt 3)

TheOriginalSE

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Age
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Website
newera.fwrestling.com
SEPTEMBER 6 - Early, Early Morning

The branches from a large bush rap against the camera lens as the dull, fluorescent light from the parking garage trickles down. Hushed voices can be heard as a hand slowly, meticulously reaches forward and makes a peephole to the outside. A large nondescript van, the emergency lights dancing against the empty wall, sits parked - the back unhinged and left unattended.

"C'mon, man, be quiet! We're gonna get caught!"

The camera is carefully rotated, gravitating to the voices behind it. The light from the parking lot is too weak to fully illuminate their faces, but two darkened figures can be discerned in the black of the night. One, the man who is undoubtedly holding the camera, leans in, the sparkle in his eye matched by the quiet excitement in his voice.

"Hello everyone out there in the world wide web. Once again it is your favorite crusader for truth in professional wrestling, Dickie Gerlichey," the man says hushedly. "I told you in my last podcast that I had some potentially big news," he pauses, looking over the camera, "and I think we're about to hit the mother lode."

The man behind him quickly taps him on the shoulder and the two men duck their heads. On camera we can see only the bottom half - two pairs of legs walking to the back of the truck. Their conversation is a mumbled mess; the only things that can be made out are something about how "the BoSox wicked screwed up" and some garbage about the Emmy's. After a few seconds the legs disappear around the truck and the camera is brought back to the young video blogger named Dickie.

"A few days ago, one of my friends who works in Copley Place right here in Boston told me about some pretty peculiar renovations taking place in the Prudential Center offices right next door where," the company's name is lost amid the engine of a passing truck, "had once called home. Now normally I wouldn't have thought much about it." He lights up. "But you know Dickie Gerlichey! I pressed this source of mine, and while he wouldn't give any details, he did mention that it would be something that I would be very interested in!"

The camera drops again as we see the pairs of legs come around the truck again. The shot shakes as Dickie's anticipation begins to boil over. Eventually the legs disappear again.

"Now, all you out there know that I mostly mark out to a few specific wrestling promotions. Empire Pro. New Frontier. New ERA. Imagine my surprise when I turned on my Comcast and got a notification that the RAUCOUS from Boise was finally available to view onDEMAND! It was a long time coming, and like a lot of people, the wait was worth the HUH?"

The man next to him nods in agreement.

"That's for sure, Dickie. I mean, like, what the hell kinda way was that to end a show? It just up and ended with nothing but a note at the end saying "Sorry, we lost our funding. Later bitches!"

Dickie reaches back and pushes his friend's face out of the way before leaning forward into the camera.

"So it got me thinking. LaRoque been fighting this shit in court - I mean, not even a few minutes from here. New ERA used to have its headquarters over in the Old John Hancock Building, and now something I'd be really interested in, aka wrestling, is making its home just 4 minutes down the road?" He pauses and raises an eyebrow. "Something is definitely up, my internet minions! You don't just have one wrestling federation close down and vacate its premises on September 5th and then another magically moves in one mile away on September 6th."

The camera is turned at the van.

"I don't know what kind of work this is, but if my intuition is right - this van parked at Copley Place, and those men bringing furniture and whatnot across the bridge inside to the Prudential Center - are part of something larger."

Dickie turns the camera back around, his smile widening.

"That's why I brought you all here with me. If I am going to break the story, I want my fans here with me. This is a wrestling fan's, especially one who has writing aspirations for say EWTorch, dream come true. We've been lucky enough to avoid any mall security so far, and I'm thinking that the moving company doesn't expect anyone to be out here at 4am in the morning, so we're going to try to sneak across and look inside the van to see just what it is that is moving into this building!"

The two men begin to stand, very slowly. Dickie looks around and steps through the bushes - stopping every few seconds as he manages to crack another branch under his foot. As Dickie and his friend escape onto the pavement, the sounds of footsteps echo off the parking garage's walls. Dickie and his friend, with almost nowhere to hide, dive behind three plastic trash barrels left on the side of the bushes. Two men walk out and grab a large covered object - probably a coffee table - and begin to carry it off.

"Close call," Dickie whispers into the camera. A bead of sweat travels down his forehead before swan diving from the rim of his eyebrow onto the lens. "Alright, let's go."

The two young men dip and swerve and spin as they move Bond-like to the van. After a few seconds of nausea-inducing camera motions, the face of Dickie Gerlichy, his back pressed firmly against the side of the large moving van, graces the camera.

"We are just five feet - literally FIVE FEET - from finding out if this move has anything to do with New ERA of Wrestling and whether Marcus LaRoque and Sean Edm..." he pauses and winks, "excuse me - Jean-Michel LaRoque - think that we wrestling fans are dumb enough to fall for such a blatant work."

Dickie hands the camera to his friend.

"Robbie hold this."

Dickie inhales and pokes his head around the corner of the van. The entire scene is eerily quiet. Raising his left hand, Dickie motions for Robbie to follow him.

"Stay right here and keep filming me. Do not take the camera off me."

Dickie digs his foot into the lift of the van and pulls himself inside the opened back part. He walks into the darkness.

"I can't see a fucking thing in here! Wait! I got something," Dickie calls out, his voice full of hope.

The camera wobbles back and forth as we hear the sound of something heavy scraping against the bottom of the van. Suddenly Dickie's ass breaks through the shadows - followed by his upper torso - and finally what looks to be a huge sign covered in paper wrap to protect it on its journey.

"Wow, that bitch is heavy!" he huffs, obviously drained of energy. "Let's get this done, Robbie!"

Dickie stands and clears his throat. The camera focuses in on the paper wrap.

"Boys, girls, children of all ages. My name is Dickie Gerlichy, and I bring to you a DickyXlusive. We are about to unveil what seems to be the logo for what I think is New ERA of Wrestling. It could be the logo. It could be a damn pane of glass for a conference room - or hell, it could be for something completely non-wrestling related and all this hiding and hooplah could be for nothing." He shrugs.

"I sure as hell hope not, Dickie - I have to be up in five and a half hours to drop my car off at the shop for an oil change. I'm gonna be dead tired as it is!"

Dickie shushes him.

"Shut up, man. This is it! I can feel it!"

Dickie grabs onto the side of the paper and stares down at it. The camera begins to move.

"Dammit! I said keep the camera on me!"

"Sorry, Dickie! I gotta scratch myself man!"

As Robbie scratches himself, we see some flashes of light on the sidewalk behind him. Robbie straightens the camera out though.

"Welcome to Copley Place - right across from the Prudential Center, the new home of -----"

Dickie begins to rip the paper off the large piece of whatever. His face goes white.

Well not literally. His face looks white because there are now two flashlights staring directly at him.

"Hey! You!"

Robbie turns the camera around and we see three security guards with their flashlights up.

"You get down from there! We have strict orders to keep everyone out!"

"ROBBIE FOCUS!" Dickie yells.

"Get down from there now!" retorts one of the security guards.

Robbie turns the camera back to Dickie.

"You have one second to get down from there - and you! You stop filming right now! This is private property!"

Dickie gives the thumbs up and yanks!

"HEY!"

The security guards rush past the camera and grab Dickie. The paper didn't exactly fall off. In fact, Dickie got nearly none of the paper off. He latched back onto one of the pieces flapping in the night breeze as the security guards struggled to get him down.

"Are you getting it, Robbie?! Can you see anything?!"

Robbie, by moving left and right to avoid the kicking legs of Dickie Gerlichey, has caused the video to blur. One of the security guards turns and begins to approach.

"Turn that off now!"

The guard places his hand over the lens.

"C'mon Robbie! Get it! Get anything!"

Dickie has been apprehended, and as the security guard removes his hand from the lens, he needless to say helped catch the final shot. By placing his hand over the lens, the security guard reset the autofocus - and when all was said and done - for all their hardwork of sleuthing and spying - Dickie and Robbie captured a little glimpse of what was making the Prudential Tower its new home.

wrestling.jpg

Wrestling. Wrestling. Dickie's friend was right. It turned out to be something that interested him very much. Interested him enough to spend the rest of September 6th in jail.

But Dickie got what he wanted. He got his big find.

What he found, though, is an entirely different matter.
 
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