Chapter 37: Clearing the Petty Obstacles
Fountain Avenue, across from Ranch Park.
A stepladder leaned against the wall outside the house as Hawk took the brass nameplate Edward handed him. Fixing it firmly to the wall, he officially unveiled the West Coast Media & Entertainment Studio.
Edward and the ever-idle Frank grabbed handheld confetti sprayers, releasing bursts of colorful ribbons and glitter that rained down on Hawk.
Passersby stopped to glance at the commotion but quickly moved on.
Opening the door, Hawk invited, “I’ve prepared a small party. Come on in.”
Inside, Frank followed closely, taking in the modest spread of beer, pizza, and barbecue on the office desk. He shook his head disapprovingly. “Some party. You guys are really keeping it basic.”
Hawk feigned generosity. “Once the studio takes off, I’ll hire dozens of Hollywood actresses to help us celebrate properly. I’ll make sure it feels like your glory days.”
Frank smirked nastily. “No need. To you, they might be unattainable muses, but I’ve had my fill of them.”Edward, ever eager to curry favor, handed Frank a beer and played along. “I bet some of your ex-wives were Hollywood stars?”
Standing tall with mock pride, Frank declared, “Of course!”
Edward pressed with calculated curiosity. “Who exactly? You want us to admire and envy you, don’t you? Then give us a name. No name? We’ll assume it’s all made up.”
Hawk sipped his beer, entertained by the banter. Helping Edward out, he added, “Are you sure you’re not bluffing?”
Frank, seasoned and sharp, saw through their antics immediately. His eyes darted between Hawk and Edward. “What’s your angle? Hoping to sell my stories for cash?”
Feigning hurt, Frank exclaimed, “I thought you were my friends, and now you want to sell me out?”
Hawk assumed a righteous tone. “Relax. I swear on my professional ethics—we’d never sell your secrets.”
Frank scoffed. “Professional ethics? In your line of work?”
“Absolutely!” Hawk replied without hesitation. “A pure pursuit of truth and justice.”
Frank sneered. “Pick your burial plot, then. Tell me where, and I’ll bring flowers every year.”
Hawk flipped him the finger.
“Quit stalling!” Edward jumped back in. “What’s the name? No name, no truth!”
Tapping into his ancestral knack for persuasion, Edward’s tone turned earnest. “You said your ex-wives used your money and child support on other men. That’s not right! My friends can’t be treated like that. Give me their names—I’ll get justice for you!”
Frank chuckled, seeing through Edward’s schemes. “With what? Your buddies? Your ancestors left all their brains in Africa when they came here. After all these generations, they still haven’t grown back.”
“F*** you!” Edward snapped. “Put your ‘buddies’ on the table, and let’s compare!”
Hawk interrupted their colorful exchange, steering the conversation elsewhere. “I visited Channel 11, and their style seems very aggressive.”
Frank, sipping his beer, explained, “It wasn’t always like this. After Fox bought them, things changed fast. You’ve heard of Fox News, right? Big money, bold tactics, and no fear of unconventional methods. That influence trickles down to all their subsidiaries.”
Leaning back in his chair, Frank continued, “When it comes to celebrity scandals, Channel 11 can usually handle the backlash, and they’re willing to pay.”
“Their prices are fair,” Hawk said, thinking of the $10,000 he’d earned. “Anything to watch out for when dealing with them?”
Frank thought for a moment. “Never cross Roger Ailes, the head of Fox News. The man’s ruthless. But don’t worry—you’re too small-time to get on his radar.”
Hawk stored the name in his mental files.
With Frank off to wander the streets, Hawk handed Edward a box filled with business cards. “Pass these out across L.A. Get your crew involved—I’ll pay minimum wage.”
Edward, recalling his past success, eagerly took charge. “Leave it to me, Boss. I’ll get it done.”
Carrying the box, Edward rounded up his friends. Soon, over a dozen men arrived via subway, ready to work.
Distributing the cards, Edward gave specific instructions. “If you spot a divorced single mom living in a big house, write it down and report to me. Got it?”
Though unsure of Edward’s motives, the promise of pay earned their compliance.
“Got it!” they echoed.
Edward crossed his arms. “You take my money, you do the job. Slack off, and I’ll kick your ass.”
With his crew dispatched, Edward personally headed to wealthier areas like Santa Monica to find potential targets—and distribute cards.
While Edward handled passive news gathering, Hawk focused on creating news.
His target was Robert Downey Jr. Hawk aimed to expose scandals while profiting at the same time.
Gathering newspapers and browsing online archives, Hawk combed through every mention of Downey.
Despite being dropped from the Phantom Men cast, Downey’s connections were helping him bounce back.
Confirmed reports showed his father leveraging ties with Steven Soderbergh to recommend him for the Eros project. Meanwhile, Mel Gibson, Downey’s co-star in The Singing Detective, had put in a good word for him with director Michael Hoffman for Game 6.
Relationships were smoothing the path for Downey’s redemption arc, a classic Hollywood trope that audiences never seemed to tire of.
Adding insult to injury, Hollywood Life reported that Downey’s wife, Deborah Falconer, planned to move back to Brentwood, signaling a marital reconciliation.
Watching his enemy thrive felt worse than losing a fortune.
Western psychology might label Hawk’s feelings as envy-induced depression. Eastern philosophy framed it differently: encountering a petty person blocking one’s path. The solution? Clear the obstacle to restore peace of mind.
Hawk wrote Robert Downey Jr.’s name on a whiteboard, pinning a poster from The Singing Detective alongside it. He sat back, contemplating his next move.
Later, Edward returned, guzzled some water, and noticed the whiteboard. “Boss, didn’t we already do a story on Robert Downey Jr.? Why are you still fixated on him?”
Hawk replied casually, “I promised to find you a rich, divorced mom with kids.”
Warmed by the thought, Edward exclaimed, “You’re going to all this trouble for my little problem? Boss, I’m with you all the way—whatever you need, just say the word!”
Hawk smirked. “Don’t worry. You’ll be in the thick of it soon enough.”
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