The number one thing that must be done while investigating as a reporter, is to find your source within a week or two for information and chase down the people who need to be interviewed about something from the past.
In Harold's case, this actually may take a day.
Harold got out the cabbie, but he didn't get the chance to shut the door because a young man probably in his teenage years zipped right into the vehicle with another person who apologized after bumping into harold and put him aside.
"DRIVE TO WHEREEVER!" The boy shouted to the Cabbie, who did just as he was told.
Harold shook his head.
"This place already seems to be the hottest activity." He said to himself as he shook his head. He looked towards the imtimidating door that once had been what a crowd of people pushing him through because of Ghost activity which threw the the microphones from the singers grasps.
He shuddered.
Dorothy. He stated in his mind as he walks into the building. Dorothy, the first person. I should interview her...OFF TO THE LIZARD,LIZARD LIZARD OF CAUSE!
~Entering Point of view of Harold~
I entered the building which had not changed in my week of being reassigned to a different position every so often. I scholded the floor since it inflicted a scrape on my knee as the crowd of people rushed me out.
I remember faintly her name sounded much of Sanchez or Oz, something along the lines of the Lizard of The Cause referance.
The man,actually sports dude, is still behind the counter reading a sports book for once in a while and doesn't seem to notice me at all. Phew. This just saved me a heck a lot of time from his rambling about stuff than last time.
I heard the sound of wheels go into a elevator.
SQUEAK~!
I had been told Dorothy usually rolls her big metal, shopping cart-like object into the elevator a few minutes before the afternoon strikes the clock in a way. I hurried over to the elevator. "Ms.Dorothy!" I shouted,stopping the doors from closing for a moment. "Do have time for a chit-chat?"
BING!
"No."
I kept the door open.
"You aren't telling the truth." I stated, using my best determined reporter voice. "I'm helping the police on this case and fully cooperating with them to hand over the evidence after I have uncovered them being one damn good reporter."
BING.
"Please reconsider. I don't take no as a answer." I told her, struggling to keep the doors opened.
The Lady laughed.
"Come in before your doom comes closer." Dorothy said to me, grabbing me by my shirt collar and dragged me in for the doors to close automatically. "What case are you helping on?"
"The Alan Walsh murder case." I replied to her.
The woman sighed.
"That survivor lady brags a lot." She starts a chatter kind of who.never.stops.talking once on a roll. I know this kind because I once interviewed a corrupted Senator about his latest decision to get rid of kindegarten. Simple question.Right?
Wrong.
I was subjected to three hours of his chatter and what influenced him to do other things than answer my questions,sometimes he had a phone in his hand and had a multileple conversation between me and another person as he kept himself on track.
I was so tired after that lengthy interview.
"Sherry. That's her first name." Dorothy filled in for me, tapping her hands on the crate. "I remember distinctively...."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~A very short blast to the past~
The walls were recently repainted blue with painted tree branches seen vividly from the dooway as birds were also part of this marvelous artwork as Sherry is doing her typical bossing around with a loud director speaker on her mouth.
"MOVE THAT PIECE OF JUNK TO THE LIVING ROOM AREA--NO--NOT THE KITCHEN YOU DUMBHEAD!" Sherry shouted to the men who were moving the large refridgerator in different directions in the state of unknowing. She held a beer in her hand. "IF THAT MAN DIDN'T GET IN MAH WAY I WOULDN'T BE HERE TO GUIDE YOU,YOU,YOU MEAN!"
The men looked to each other with the expression: "Did she really say 'mah' instead of 'my'?"
16-2-12 is the number of the day!~
I know it is so unbelieveable
"What man?..." Dorothy asks,raising an eyebrow.
But 12 is so kiddish!
Two is more the best
Sixteen is yet the look-forward age for
alll teenagers around the globe~!
"A NOBODY!" Sherry shouted through the giant object. "HE'S ONE OF THOSE MEN WHO WOULD FLIRT WITH YOU AND DUMP YOU LIKE TRASH THE VERY NEXT DAY!"
Repeating those words,
"Sixteen Two Twelve~!" The man lifting the object sang along. "It's actually quite catchy."
Cause it's a rocking SIXTEEN TWO TWELVE day!
For the jumpy EAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRTTTHHHH!
Sixteen Two Twelve is the number of todaaaayyyyIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!
A cold breeze went through the air sending a chill down Sherry's spine which made her enire body shudder in the process. Wierd. Sherry thought, shaking her head. "NOW GET THAT SON OF A DONKEY INTO THE ROOM YOU,UH...SO CALLED MEAN!"
Mean in her words is 'men' and presumably drunk.
"Stop your ficking yelling." The man said, dropping the object and let his friend get his hands injuried. "LUNCH BREAK!"
"OOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCHHHH!" The man screams, holding his bloody hand up. "SOMEBODY GET ME A TOWEL FOR THIS BLOODY OLD THING!"
"Actually it'll take longer than a day." The man said aloud, taking his friend out the hotel and to the hospital.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End of Flash blast~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Return into POV~~
I laughed.
"I cannot believe I found this funny." I remarked,while I was laughing at the situation which was joined by Dorothy.
"It was very humerious to a point that I pitched the idea to the Movie Producers." She cheerfully tells me, a huge smile on her face. "And they made...Best Man Wedding crashers out of it."
My eyes became big.
"No way!" I said, with complete shock and disbelief that one of the best comedy movies of all time came from this very hotel. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised over things that originated from the Chevrol Hotel at all.
Dorothy nodded.
"Yes sirree."
Sounds of crashing and bus noises piece the air unexpected like a wasp entered a beehive and made it completely awkward than it was supposed to be except for this situation it was loud and very clear.
"MY POOR EARS!" Dorothy yelled,taking out ear muffs with tight round objects inside and put them on her ears. "FICK THIS DOESN'T WORK!"
I believe Fick is the substitute word for another word that shouldn't be said in front of children.
All of a sudden. I remembered something. That loud gun-shot like sound which racketed through the entire staircase leading to the bottom floor re-entered my head and I felt quite dizzy as if this was all a dream.
It only be became more louder and realistic if that even is a word.
BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMM.
I remember...I heard two or three gunshots that I mistakened as the building ready to collapse, but I ask myself sometimes, how did I get out the doomed building? Extererstials? Largely a strong possibility.
BING!