LET THE SHOW BEGIN!!!!

~Setting the Stage~

"It's no wonder why this place shut down as abruptly as it did. I mean look at it! The place is in shambles!" The man gestured to the walls widely, his duffle bag shifting on his shoulder as he turned, jumbling the mass of equipment inside. The sound of metal and cords echoed around the large warehouse filled with worn wooden sets and dark side rooms. 

Another man, this one wearing a dusty baseball cap bearing the phrase "Boo-ty Hunter" and a ghost across the front, turned to his short overbearing companion. "Man, anyplace would be a broken-down mess if it was abandoned for over forty years and left as a delinquent's playground. You're really just stating the damned obvious." He trudged over to a stack of rusty chairs, pulling one out to sit and light a cigarette.  

"Tucker, now's not really the time for a smoke, we've got to go figure out where we're gonna set up. I'd like to start recording right away. Rhett, can you bring me the bag of EMF meters and spirit box kits? I want to see where the most energy is."

Rhett ambled over to Ross, their spokesman, jostling the bag of equipment from one shoulder to another. "Ross, we don't even know if there's going to be any activity. It could have been just a bunch of hocus pocus passed around a bunch of kids hoping to get a kick out of fear. Or the property owners are trying to get attention! We could be the stepping stones for some tourist attraction." 

"Rhett, trust me on this one! I've heard tell of some paranormal activity from some trusty sources, and I'll be damned if I'm not about to catch it on camera! The first to catch it on camera!"

Tucker decided at this time to pipe up. "Speaking of camera, where the hell is that newbie you hired?"

Just then a young man shuffled in through the heavy double doors, a large camera on his shoulder and a backpack full of loose wire and trip cams. "I'm right here, sorry for the wait, I just dropped a lens." His honey blonde fell over his thick black shades, and an awkward smile pulled at his lips. "Are we ready for the cameras?"

Ross shook his head. "No Mark, we were just wondering where you were. Can't have you be getting lost already, especially on your first day. Come with us, we're going to check out activity readings and choose where to put our stuff before setting up for recording."

Mark closed the door behind him. The clanging sound sent dust falling from the tall, shady ceiling, "Yeah, of course." 

The four men walked through the old studio, glancing at dressing rooms, side hallways, musty closets, and moldy bathrooms. Ross held the EMF before him, waving it from side to side. The static and beeping surrounded them as they explored the old facilities.

"You know, I've always heard stories about the nutter who used to host the game show, The Corner, here. But what actually happened to him?" Rhett spoke up over the technological ambiance, picking at the fibers in his duffle bag handle. 

"No one really knows for sure, " Ross replied. "The man who ran the show, Ranboo M. Beloved, kinda went off the rails near the end of his career. Started requesting strange, dangerous acts for his show. Pain tolerance and hunts and all that. Stopped being very family-friendly real fast." He took a sudden sharp left around the corner, causing Tucker and Rhett to stumble over each other to make the tight turn down another hall.

Mark half-listened to Ross explain the history of The Corner as he walked down the hall with the group. He himself had studied a little bit about Mr. Beloved's dwindling mental health and what lead to his death on that ranch out north, but Mark felt like he would never find the whole story. Like the overall picture was...incomplete. Marks thought's trailed away from the conversation, and he got lost in the questions within his mind. 

He also got lost in their new recording venue. 

Mark frantically tried to retrace his steps to a familiar path but ended up more lost than before. Hadn't he seen that faded poster three times now? Was he going in circles?

A soft static reached his ears, and his eyes widened behind his dark frames. That had to be the EMF reader. Mark adjusted his camera bag on his shoulder and speed-walked towards the sound. A faint light shone in a room to his right, so he walked in. 

Mark looked around the small, office-like room he had entered. It was completely devoid of his team. A few desk chairs were pushed to the side, and a box of tapes sat on a short table, some of which had their tape pulled out like disemboweled carcasses. And the static sound he had heard before turned out to be... coming from a tube television set? Mark walked closer to it and noticed the tape lodged into the player's slot. It was at the end of its run. 

"That's....odd," He mumbled to himself. He wondered who had come in here before to turn the TV on in the first place. Probably some explorers, no doubt. But wouldn't they have shut it off? What made them leave the tape in, still on play? Mark thought about this for a second, then hesitantly pressed rewind.

Images of audiences flew across the screen, rapidly clapping and laughing backward. A grinning man dressed in a yellow suit, pearls around his turtleneck clad throat, and a sun-crowned head. Contestants sweating and helping each other over obstacle courses games. Then a vision of black and white stood towering and beaming into the camera.  

The tape clicked and played again from the beginning, and there he was, the man himself. He flashed his set of pearly whites at the audience, his eyes crinkling behind red and green shades. The theme music died away behind him and he opened his mouth. Mark braced himself for the well-known phrase, whilst fighting the urge to shut off the TV entirely.

"Welcome boys and girls!"