'Yeah, look at me, a regular Sam Spade,' Jericho muttered to himself. He was back at the arena and was searching through one of the garbage bins. So far he had searched through a dozen of them and still hadn't found what he was looking for. He was more than ready to give up his quest for the truth.
'Hey, you! Get away from there! What the hell do you think you're doing?' an angry voice called out from behind him.
Jericho rolled his eyes as he slowly turned around. A large, muscular security guard was striding towards him, a mean look on his face. 'Good morning, Mr Cheerful,' Jericho greeted disdainfully.
The guard's face suddenly lit up at the sight of his face. 'Wow! Chris Jericho! The Undisputed Champion!'
'What do you want? An autograph? A picture?' he sneered. 'Or maybe you just want to touch the one and only?'
Mr Cheerful lost a little of his smile. 'Uh no, it's okay. What are you doing here, Mr Jericho?'
He laughed. Mr Jericho?! This was freaking fantastic. 'Oh, that's a good one!'
Mr Cheerful looked at him uncertainly. 'This is cool that you're here, but you're not supposed to be here.'
'Do I look like I want to be in this dump?' Jericho asked sarcastically. 'Of course not. I bet you don't either, but you are.'
'I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to take you out,' Mr Cheerful said gravely. 'I'm really sorry, Mr Jericho.'
'Look, I'll give you tickets to one of our shows if you just help me out here,' Jericho offered. 'I just need to find something, then I'm gone.'
The big smile returned to the guard's face. 'Tickets? Really?'
'Sure, anything you want.'
'Cool! What are you looking for?'
'Were you watching the show last night?'
Mr Cheerful nodded. 'Never miss it.'
'I'm looking for the envelope and tape that was sent to Triple H.'
'Oh, I know where they are. The tape was left in the VCR and a friend of mine was the one who had to clean out that dressing room. I think he might still have the tape, and even the envelope.'
He grinned. Chris Spade's first break.