WWE: From Rookies 2 Legends Part 3
by The Star

...I awoke several minutes later in a daze, staring up into bright white
lights as I lay on my back. I blinked a couple of times to regain my vision,
balling my fists and using them to rub my eyes. I felt so tired, like I had
been sleeping for a long period of time without being disrupted. As I tried
to sit up I felt a pair of hands gently push me back, holding me down and
restricting my movement.

"Wha-what the fuck? Get off me...where am I?" I startled rambling, using all
my strength to sit up on the edge of whatever it was I was sitting on. "Oh,
my head." I said slowly, dropping my face into my hands.  Upon this motion I
realized the blood was gone, and that I had a number of stitches deep in my
forehead. I slid my hands down to the bridge of my nose and felt a bandage of
some sort, feeling the pain in my bones but noticing the blood flow had been
restricted.

"Josh...Josh, are you OK?" I heard Stephanie McMahon ask, exclaiming in
concern.

"My nose...is it broken?" I answered.

"No...just a really deep cut. They stitched it and your forehead up while you
were out. Are you OK?" She repeated.

"Yeah...yeah I'm good. What happened? Did we win?" I continued.

"Calm down," she giggled lightly. "You went into unconsciousness after your
fall from the ladder. Could've been the excessive blood loss from your broken
nose, could be from your bruised ribs, we don't know for sure. All we DO know
is that you're not moving until further procedures have been completed." She
said as the EMT gently tried to push me back onto the bed.

"Where the fuck is Nick?" I asked, confused. The medical technician took out
a miniature flashlight and began shining it in my eyes, making it really
difficult for me to concentrate under such conditions. I reached forward and
grabbed him by the collar, throwing him up against the wall as I stood to my
feet. "Don't fuckin' touch me...got it?!" I said sternly, glaring at him
through somewhat glazed eyes. He nodded his head `yes' in both agreement and
terror before I pushed him back onto the bed.

"Don't worry, Nick will be fine. He had to be taken to a local hospital,
again, to be treated for a concussion, a broken wrist, and further possible
internal injuries." Stephanie answered me assuredly. "I was just informed,
during your match, about the scuffle between you and Hunter." She stated
meekly, staring down at the floor in embarrassment.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me..." I trailed off, jumping to my feet and making
a beeline towards the door. I tried to turn the handle, but the door was
apparently locked. "What the fuck is this all about?"

"Let me finish, OK? I wanted to personally apologize for the whole thing...
lease, don't take it the wrong way. Let me deal with it in a calm, collect
fashion that will ensure not only your safety, but the safety of all those
around you. I promise the problem will never be heard of again." She said.
I looked her in the face and cocked my eyebrow in disbelief of what I had
just heard.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA! Did I just hear you correctly, or is there
something in my ear that I'm not aware of? That little shit and his whipping
boy bitch left us for dead...hit Nick in the back of his head with a
sledgehammer then took me out with a fuckin' chair shot, and you expect me
to pretend like this never happened?!" I shouted angrily, stepping up into
her face. My nostrils were flared and I was breathing heavily, blood rushing
to my face as I clenched my fists in unimaginable rage.

"All I'm saying is, that since I wasn't aware of the situation, let me deal
with it on my own terms. It will be in the best interest of both parties...I
just don't want you to end up getting hurt anymore than you are now." She
responded.

"Bullshit! Hunter Hearst Helmsley couldn't beat my ass hard enough to keep me
down if his fucking life depended on it!" I retorted defensively.

"That's not what I'm saying at all; will you please listen to me?! I don't
want Hunter to hurt you so badly that you have to leave this company...no
matter what the length! You know how vicious he can be, especially when
unprovoked. There`s no telling what he's capable of doing..." She trailed
off. I instinctively grabbed her by the hips and pushed her back against
the wall, holding my arms out at my sides and blocking her in; so angry
that I almost hit her right then and there. However, I instead decided to
use my words...that being the more classy thing to do, and all.

"Stephanie, I'm using all the self-restraint I have left to not hit you...
but you're wearing my patience very thin. I understand my train of thought
may be a little clouded, but please...don't, piss me off!" I exclaimed
through clenched teeth.

"Yeah...you try it and see what happens. What you forget, Josh, is that I
am your boss! Therefore, I *order* you to sit back down this minute! You are
1 of my most valuable employees, and I will not sit idly by and let you cause
further injury to yourself, and possibly others. I understand you may be more
than a little upset over what has transpired, but you're not going anywhere
until Steve here performs further tests that conclude you are OK to function
on your own." She said, pushing me back and repeatedly poking my chest. I
reared my arm back and held it there for several seconds, looking into her
frightened eyes as I shook my fist involuntarily. Without warning I stepped
forward, throwing a haymaker towards the right that nailed Steve the EMT
right in the chin and knocked him out cold as he collapsed to the floor.

"MOTHER-FUCKER!" I exclaimed, shaking the pain away from my fingers. I bent
down and pulled the key from a chain around his neck, pushing it into the
opening and turning until I heard a click. "Listen to me, bitch...I don't
*need* help. Not from you, not from these EMT's...not from anybody. I can
function on my own quite nicely, thanks. And, whether you like it or not,
I'm going after Triple H...there's *nothing* you can do to stop me!" I
exclaimed, flinging the door open and stepping out into the hallway.

"This is your LAST chance, Josh! You do as I say...or there will be
consequences. You being injured is way too big of a risk for you, myself, or
any part of this company to take, and I refuse to compromise the situation
with anything further. You're endangering yourself, and bringing harm to the
workplace. If you defy me, I will strip you of the titles, and fire your
asses on the spot!" She exclaimed.

"Alright...so that's how you wanna' do things? OK...fine Stephanie, you leave
me no choice. I'm only gonna' tell you this *once:* Stay out of my fucking
way...or I will hurt you!" I exclaimed, clutching Stephanie by the throat. If
you send anybody after me, I`ll hurt them, too! Anybody, who stands in my way
of HHH, will get hurt along the way! It doesn`t matter how many asses I have
to kick, I will find him, and I will fuck...him...up!" With that, I stepped
over the old man's body and turned the right-hand corner, disappearing down
the dimly lit corridor without saying another word. Stephanie stood there the
entire time, watching me leave with an expression of pure shock and emotion
that I will never forget...

* * *

...My head was still slightly pounding, my vision a tad blurry, but I knew
I'd be fine after a visit from an old friend of mine. All these different
thoughts kept running through my mind as I pulled out a blunt from the secret
compartment in my right leg pocket, lighting it up and hitting it 3 times
consecutively before exhaling the thick cloud of mist from within my lung.
The marijuana high had already went straight to my semi-functional brain,
adding to my prone and confused state as I continued to slowly stagger down
the hall, looking for any signs of Triple H; his dressing room, his nose,
Evolution...anything associated with the guy. Somewhere along the way, I
realized I had not a clue where the fuck I was going. I saw a stagehand
sitting on a metal trunk, drinking what appeared to be beer out of a paper
cup.

"Hey man...where the fuck is Triple H?" I asked, flicking the ash from my
blunt onto the floor.

"Who wants to know?" Came a voice from behind me. I turned around and into
an oncoming right hand from Randy Orton, dodging the attack and synching in
the Tazzmission as I ducked around behind him. I threw him against the wall
face first, the hip-checked him against it, putting the boots to his ribs
with repeated soccer kicks as he fell down to his hands and knees. I turned
around to grab a weapon of some sorts, but instead received a chair shot to
the back, courtesy of Ric Flair. He grabbed me by the chin and clocked me in
the jaw with his right fist, rearing back and slamming the edge of his same
hand against my chest in a hard knife-edge chop. He tried the same maneuver,
but I blocked it with my forearm and grabbed him harshly by the throat. I
gave him and upper-cut to the gut, followed by a forearm smash to the back
that knocked him down to his hands and knees as well. I grabbed Flair by his
scalp and pulled him up, rearing back and back-handing him hard across the
left cheek before throwing him effortlessly into the chair rack in front of
me.

They fell to the floor in resounding fashion, accompanying Flair's tumble as
he lie there clutching his stomach. I picked up one of the brown folding
weapons and wound up to swing, but was apprehended by Orton as he hit me from
behind with a forearm to the back. He grabbed me by the neck and threw me
shoulder first into the chair rack, then started stomping me repeatedly in
the chest and stomach while talking shit the entire time.

"Yeah...that's what I thought. Who the fuck are you...nothin' more than a
little bitch! Huh...who the fuck are *you?!*" He asked, taunting me. I didn't
answer, so he slapped me hard across my right cheek, stunning me for a couple
of seconds before he leant down and grabbed me by the chin, getting up in my
face as he prepared to talk more shit. Instead, I gave him a low blow and
pushed back, bum-rushing him back into the wall before elbowing him hard in
the mouth. I grabbed him by the hair and punched him so hard in the left eye
that I thought I broke my wrist, then bent down to pick up the chair as he
doubled over, cracking the unforgiving steel hard against the top of his
head. The force of the shot knocked him out cold as he slumped down against
the wall in a sitting position. Ric Flair crawled on his hands and knees
towards me to continue fighting, but a solid chair shot to the spine took him
out for good.

"Violent J's the name...incase you weren't sure, you lil' bitch!" I
responded, out of breath. I bent down to pick up what was remaining of my
blunt and lit it back up. Most of it had burned away during the scuffle,
which made me a tad bit upset. "And if Hunter wants to come get him some...
he better bring some fuckin' weed next time, `cause I can't afford this." I
exclaimed, kicking the unconscious Orton in his stomach. I turned to continue
my quest, looking up at the wall and noticing a sign that pointed down the
hall and then to the left, towards the locker room area. All of a sudden I
started to feel really tired, and as I turned the corner I lost my sense of
coordination and tripped into the wall, leaning against it for dear life it
seemed while I blinked my eyes rapidly in an attempt to redevelop a focus on
my surroundings. I was so high for some reason...most likely due a lack of
oxygen to my brain from the massive amount of blood I lost. Yeah...that
seemed right.

"Hey man...are you OK? Want me to get some help?" The stage hand asked in
concern as I struggled to stand.

"Don't bother...I'm fine. I already resisted help once tonight...do you
wanna' be my next victim?"

"No sir...I'll just, go now." He said before running off towards the right.

"That's what I fuckin' thought." I exclaimed, turning the left corner and
stumbling down the hall. I stopped suddenly and stood back first against
the wall for a couple of minutes, unable to move my limbs as the voices I
recognized from before started sounding inside my head. `Go to the ring...
hurt her...hurt *her*...' It trailed off, ringing loudly in my ears and
causing me to clutch my forehead in a shooting pain. I eventually regained
control of my numbing feet and continued walking down the hallway, my eyes
so restricted in width from the weed that now I began to feel sick,
regretting the fight I had just put up back there.

"Maybe I should have listened to Stephanie", I said to myself as my hands
slapped against the wall, using all the strength they and my arms had left
to hold me up and seemingly crawl across it for leverage. I thought about
turning around to head back towards the EMT's station, but I was not only
lost, but also severely weakened and too scared for my own condition to
move in any other direction. Just when I thought things couldn't get any
worse my vision started to fade once again, a feeling of dizziness having
swept over me as I crashed aimlessly into the first door I saw on my right
side, head first. Upon my entrance I tumbled to the concrete floor as the
door flew open, scaring the shit out of a female occupant and making her
scream as I struggled to stand up; deep in the midst of some mild
convulsions. My head was now pounding furiously, and I began to slowly
black out before I felt her touch on my shoulders, slowly hoisting me up
to my feet and gently guiding me to a sitting position on a nearby couch.

"Oh, oh Jesus...I'm sorry...to bother you..." I said through gasps of
breath. "I'll go now..." I continued, trying to stand up in order to leave.
I got up too fast and instead fell backwards in a heap, crashing back down
onto the couch and lying there motionless. At least I was still conscious.

"Good God, are you OK?!" She asked, worriedly. "What should I do...d, do
you need anything?! Should I get help?!" She continued, obviously frozen in
fear. I lie there, clutching my temples and breathing heavily, rubbing my
eyes frantically and trying to see who was talking to me. My throat was dry
and I was sweating profusely...then I started to hear the voices again. `The
ring...go to the ring...' It said in a rasped muffle.

"God, NO! Water...I need water...please!" I exclaimed, doubling over in pain.
I held out my hand impatiently until I felt a bottle of water in-between my
fingers, then unscrewed the cap and hastily guzzled the cold liquid down my
aching throat. I swallowed hard, the water soothing my gullet as I let out a
sigh of relief before taking the bottle and dumping it out onto my face and
into my eyes, rubbing at them furiously in an attempt to make out the shapes
I saw around me. I blinked once, then twice, the light slowly coming into
focus as my breathing pattern gradually reduced.

"Oh...oh, thank you Jesus! My eyes...I can see again!" I exclaimed in awe. I
continued to lie there and recollect my thoughts before sitting up, doing an
immediate double take as I realized who I had disturbed. Trish Stratus stood
hunched over in front of me, wearing only her shiny purple ring pants and a
tiny black bra that clasped in the front; her breasts jutting in and out
repeatedly due to the effect on her own breathing pattern from the
overwhelming sensation of fright she had just endured. I jerked up very
suddenly and hit the back of my head against the wall somehow, causing her
to back away as I felt the blood slowly rise to my cheeks in extreme
embarrassment.

* * *

"Oh, shit!" I exclaimed, rubbing the back of my skull in obvious pain. I
tried to move my legs but they were stuck, any message my brain sent to my
limbs went unheard and ignored. I was so humiliated; I just wanted out of
there in the worst way before she decided to get impatient with me. "I, I'm
sorry Trish...I didn't mean to startle you. I'm kinda' lost, and...this was
the first door I found. I just got jumped by Randy Orton & Ric Flair...
please, don't be alarmed and I`ll be on my way." I said wincingly, sitting
forward to try and stand up. She stepped forward again with a wet towel in
her hand, grabbing my arm in a comforting manner and placing the warm cloth
against my forehead as she took a seat next to me.

"No, no...it's OK..." She said, smiling at me brightly in a joking fashion.
"I`m just glad I could be of some help. That all happened so fast...I'm just
glad you're OK." She asked. "Do you need me to get you anything else?"

"Nah...I'm good. The back of my head kinda' hurts, though." I remarked,
feeling behind my head for any signs of blood-flow. She reached into her
bag and conveniently pulled out a freshly prepared ice pack, putting her
arm around my shoulders and placing it behind my head. "For when my muscles
get sore, incase you were wondering." She said, answering my question before
I even got the chance to comprehend asking it.

"Oh no, I'll be OK. This isn't necessary...I don't mean to put you out." I
answered slowly, grabbing the water bottle off the end table and pouring more
of it's content into my mouth, trying to wash down the excess saliva I had
stored up in my mouth due to the cotton mouth affect from the weed.

"Not at all...it's my pleasure." She answered, grasping me slightly by the
shoulders and kneading the flesh between her palms in a gentle massage.
"Besides, I'm sure that if I were in your shoes, youd've done the same thing
for me, ya' know?" I relaxed myself and sat back, noticing that the mixture
of hot and cold was in fact very soothing. Seconds later I began feeling the
stir in my pants after having finally realized what predicament I was in. I
tried to shake the thoughts of her from my mind, but there was no way I could
think about anything else, even if I had wanted to after locking eyes on her
glorious cleavage.

"Yeah...I was just concerned that I might have caught you at a bad time, or
something." I said, motioning with my eyes towards her exposed torso as I
turned my head back towards the right.

"Not at all, I was just getting ready for my match later. Gotta' stay limber
if you wanna' produce." She explained. I was a little taken back by the
context of what she had said, but after a few seconds I managed to shake my
head yes.

"Of course..."

"But enough about me...before I forget, I just wanted to welcome you to our
family. It`s very nice to meet you..."

"I'm sorry, let me introduce myself. My name is Josh...better known to all
of *them* as Violent J," I said, pointing towards the direction of the ring.
"I`ve also been known to answer to J...or "Big Daddy", seeing as that was my
high school moniker and all." I cut her off abruptly. "Sorry...incase you
didn't know...or weren`t sure...I would`ve totally understood had you not
known who I am." I quickly responded in more embarrassment, shielding my
eyes from the expression on her face.

"Don't worry...I know all about you, *Josh*." She said, laughingly. "How
could I not, especially after that amazing performance you put on out there
earlier. It wass absolutely incredible, and so...exhilarating,even. I've
never seen anything the likes of you 2 before in all my life. You show such
blatant disregard for yourselves; the fans absolutely adore you. The risks
you guys take are just phenomenal." She started rambling. "I have nothing
but the utmost respect for everything you 2 stand for. Congratulations on
your win, by the way." She said cheerily, reaching out her right hand. I did
the same and wrapped mine around hers, bringing it up to my mouth and gently
kissing the knuckles. She put her other hand up to her chest and just smiled
before I let go.

"Wow...I'm flattered. Thank you, that really means a lot to me...for some
reason. Is this coming from a fans perspective...or that of a respected
performer complementing another's work??" I asked slyly, cocking my eyebrow
like The Rock.

"Well...mostly as a fan. I never got a chance to introduce myself before you
left RAW. Bischoff is such an asshole for what he did. I really feel for you
guys. I'm sure he's kicking himself for it now, though." She said, her
beautiful smile complementing the light that shone down from the ceiling.

"Thanks. I'm a very big fan of yours as well, while were on the subject.
You're absolutely stunning, both in physical appearance and your in-ring
skills." I replied wholeheartedly.

"Hmmm," she purred curiously, "I'll bet you are." She said, obviously
referring to my mini-me. "Thank you for the compliment, by the way. I
appreciate it very much." She replied, gently rubbing my thigh. My
cock was forming a noticeable tent in my pants, and with every motion
of her hands they seemed to get closer to it.

"Just stating a fact. But anyways...how do you find the time to keep up on
us, as big as you are in comparison, with your busy schedule and all?" I
asked, interested in what she had to say.

"I watch you on SmackDown! every week; I`ve never missed a match. You're
my favorite wrestlers...you especially." She said slyly. "You're presence
is quite intimidating, I must say...not to mention the size advantage. I
wouldn't wanna' cross your path on a bad day, I'll tell ya that." She
exclaimed.

"Sorry if I scare you at all, Trish. Rest assure, however, that I would
never hurt you for any reason." I said, taking another rip off my blunt.

"I know...you seem too nice of a guy to ever hit a woman." She replied back.

"Well, I don't really see why anyone would want to hurt you, quite frankly.
You just took the time to help me...but you didn't have to. You seem like a
very caring person...and I thank you eternally because of it."

"Wow...I don't know what to say..." She said, slightly blushing. "Thank you
so much...I had no idea..."

"Sorry to be so forward...but I can't help how I feel." I said, assuring her.

"I appreciate your honesty..." She said, staring into my eyes. "But um...
speaking of help, how is Nick doing?" She asked, seeming to snap back into
focus.

"What do you mean?" I asked confusingly. I lit up another blunt and took in
a large amount of smoke, holding it in as long and as deep as I could before
exhaling, seeing as I had apparently lost the other one somewhere in-between
my drug induced, psychotic stupor.

"Oh, I guess you didn't notice, but he stopped moving after he hit that frog
splash on The Undertaker. The paramedics and medical staff rushed the ring
and immediately took him away on a stretcher. What all happened to you before
the match, anyway? You sure looked pretty banged up coming down to the ring."
She asked curiously. I took another hit from my blunt, then gestured it
towards her. She put it between her lips and sucked on it, sending smoke into
her lungs and heaving chest before exhaling emphatically in a sputtering
cough-fit. I reached around behind her and started to gently slap at her
back, trying to help her regain stability. She stopped once I gave her the
water bottle sitting on the end table, downing the liquid greedily as though
she had been stranded in the desert.

"I'm sorry about that...feel a little embarrassed right now...but please go
on." She said, trying to regain her regular breathing pattern. "I've never
smoked before..." She trailed off.

"Don't worry...I'm practically a pro, and I do that ALL the time. Besides...
it was kinda' cute." I said, stopping to gauge her reaction. Through the
continuous coughing another smile formed across her ridiculously gorgeous
face, letting me know that my frequent sweet talk was openly accepted. "But
anyways...like I was saying, before the match we got jumped by HHH and Randy
Orton."

"Before the match, too?" She exclaimed.

"Yeah, ain't that some shit? All I did was make fun of him to his face. You
know, `It's all about the Game-uhhh!'" I exclaimed in my best impersonation.
She burst out laughing as a smile slowly formed across my own face. My cheeks
started to turn red in embarrassment, but at least I made *her* laugh.

"I'm sorry...that was just too funny. It sounded just like him." She said.

"Thanks...I try."

"Sorry for the interruptions. But anyways, like you were saying..." She cut
off, interested in what I had to say.

"I was busted open with a chair shot, and Nick got hit in the back of the
head with a sledgehammer. He got an instant concussion and wrestled the
entire time in a near coma, passing out due to the excessive blood flow
from his neck and skull. He's also been battling a rib injury for a couple
of weeks...not to mention before the match he also broke his wrist punching
Test in the face." I slowly explained.

"Ouch!" She shot back. "Are you guys OK?"

"I'm fine...I just hope he's alright. He did seem kinda' bad off, ya' know?"
I asked, reassuringly.

"I think he'll be *just* fine." Trish answered.

"Why do you say that?" I asked as my heart sunk, beating at a more rapid pace
than usual.

"Well, when they were putting him in the ambulance...Stacy Keibler just
happened to go along for the ride. Wonder what's goin' on there?" She asked
jokingly, slapping her hand down across my knee. I looked up into her eyes
and they were a slight pink color, slanted from the effects of her coughing.
She was high for the first time in her life, probably, and I was starting to
feel blowed too; the most I'd been in awhile. I looked her up and down,
noticing her beautiful, flowing blond hair as it cascaded down to her
shoulders. Her face shimmered in the neon light as she reached for her bag;
her red, glossy lips accentuating her almost perfectly white teeth very
nicely. Her arms were tanned and finely toned, coming out from the straps of
her purple tank-top as she slipped it on over her head, finishing off her
matching sequin outfit. Of course my eyes managed to find her tits once
again, gloriously pushed up and popping outward invitingly towards me.

" Really?" I asked distractingly. "Hmmm...that seems like 1 hell of a
"treatment" to me." I continued. "At least, when not being compared to
someone as lovely as yourself."

"Wow." She said meekly, staring into my eyes. "I've never had anyone
compliment me this much...I know this sounds corny, but quite frankly,
you're sweeping me off my feet. You're one of the nicest guys I think
I've ever meet..."

"Like I said before, Trish...I'm just speaking the truth. You make me feel
so different than any other girl I`ve ever come in contact with. I mean,
usually I`m so afraid to start a conversation with a girl, but right now I
feel like I could talk to you for the rest of the night. I feel so close to
you already..." I cut off, staring back at her while running my fingers
through her hair. She placed her right hand against my cheek as she gently
bit her lip, then we started to slowly lean into each other. I didn't know
what it was; maybe the weed taking its effect, or perhaps the situation we
were in, I'm not sure. Whatever it was, it was spontaneous and completely
spur of the moment. As our faces inched closer and closer, our lips slowly
parted and prepared to press against each other. However, just as the act
was about to commence she pulled back in realization of what was about to
happen, and her eyes opened wide in shock and disbelief.

"Oh my God...I'm so sorry..." I said, standing up in resentment. She opened
her mouth to respond, but before the words could escape her succulent lips
the door slowly re-opened and a stagehand popped his head inside, killing
the mood instantaneously.

"Uh, Trish...sorry to bother you, but the rest of the girls in tonight's
match have requested your presence to talk over some of the spots. You're
on in 20." He said, stepping into the room. I turned towards him and glared
VERY angrily, not saying a word as I turned to leave.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around. It's been nice...meeting you." She said,
still in awe. I think she was just a tad upset after what I tried to pull.

"Oh...it'll be a lot sooner than you think." I said. "But until then...thanks
for the help, again." I leaned forward and gently kissed her on the right
cheek.

"You...you're welcome. Goodbye..." She answered before grabbing her hat and
coat, walking out the door and past the stagehand while eyeing me the entire
way. Once she disappeared, I grabbed the guy by the throat and threw him up
against the door, getting directly in his face with my teeth gritted.

"Thanks a fuckin' lot...Jim!" I said, noticing his name tag. "I hope you'll
be able to sleep tonight...knowing that you just cost me what could have been
THE opportunity of a lifetime." I stopped abruptly, rubbing my temples and
trying to regain my thoughts as I saw a vision before my eyes. I stood there
for a minute in realization as the vision displayed a woman...the woman who
I was supposed to hurt. Oh my God...it was Stephanie McMahon! Yes...hurt
Stephanie McMahon, because she hurt you. HHH hurt you, but you can't hurt
him...so, hurt *her.*  And, since I couldn't physically hurt her...I could
do the next best thing. "Normally...I'd beat your ass within 6 inches of your
fuckin' life! But...," I trailed off as a thought popped into my head.
"Instead, I've chosen to redirect my anger towards something else. Now, tell
me how to get to the ring, and I will spare your life! Otherwise...I'll END
you!" I exclaimed, tightening my grip around his neck.

"G...Go straight down to the end of the hallway and take a left...then a
right. The curtain's right there."

"By the way...what match is going on right now?" I asked nonchalantly, acting
like nothing was going on as he squirmed under my grip. I was fully aware of
that evening's card, but I just wanted to be sure that it all fell according
to plan.

"The...bikini contest is just ending...right about now..." He said through
gulps for breath.

"Oh shit!" I exclaimed, bitch smacking him across the face. "Sable...I forgot
about Sable." I said to myself, throwing him head first against the wall. I
then closed the door behind me and stormed off down the hall; a feeling of
sheer determination, betrayal, and rage all built up inside me at the same
time, just waiting to be released...

* * *

(Moment's before...)

..."Alright ladies & gentlemen, this is the moment we've all been waiting
for. Well, at least the guys watching. Anyway, let's get down to business.
Sable...Torrie, could you both please step towards the center of the ring."
Asked Tazz, sunglasses and all. They both did as asked, Torrie smiling
brightly as Sable stood poised with her usual scowl. "Alright ladies, let
me explain the rules," He continued. "Each of you will get 15 seconds to
disrobe and show off your bikini, entice the crowd with whatever you've
got and prove to the people why you should win. The actual winner will be
decided by the people, right here, in Nashville, Tennessee!" He exclaimed
proudly, eliciting an electrifying response from the crowd. After several
minutes of deafening cheers, Tazz continued the role of emcee. "I've always
kinda' favored black. So Sable...you go first." He said, dropping his arms
down to his lap. Sable stepped forward, black satin robe and all, and
started to dance for the people as stripper music hit and the lights dimmed
to a haunting purple.

She untied the sash as she continued gyrating her hips, rubbing herself with
her hands as she started doing the grind. She dropped the robe to the canvas
and exposed her tiger-striped g-string bikini, pushing her hair up with her
hands and dropping her ass "like it was hot." She continued dancing like this
for the allotted time, bending over a lot to show off her gloriously firm
butt cheeks, making Tazz sweat tremendously as the crowd whistled and yelled
towards her left and right. The crowd was almost wild, but once the music
stopped they calmed down. Then of course, the lights came back up to their
original color.

"That...wow, that was great. I'm speechless..." He said, taking off his
glasses and wiping a handkerchief across his forehead. "Whew! Let's here it
for Sable everybody! Torrie...let's see if you can follow *that* act!" He
exclaimed. The lights dimmed to an easy blue, and different music started
playing. Torrie Wilson walked forward, slowly untying the sash of her pink
sequin robe and slipping it to the floor. She opened up only the left side
of her, then just the right before letting it fall aimlessly to the mat as
well, exposing your basic black bikini with Playboy bunnies around the tit
area. She walked forward and started waving at the fans, shaking her hips
sexily and posing towards them.

She stood on the 2nd rope and bent forward, showing her cleavage towards
those in the front row before dropping back to the mat, twirling around and
flexing her ass, turning her head around and putting a finger up to her mouth
in a "did I do that" type look. She then bent forward and stuck her ass out
in the air, doing *anything* she could to gain a rise from the audience.
Sable just stood in the corner and smirked, not impressed in the slightest
as the music suddenly stopped playing. Torrie stood up and smiled, again
waving towards the crowd in 1 last desperate attempt to gain a reaction.

"Alright, let's hear it for Torrie Wilson!" Tazz exclaimed. Nothing more than
a murmur came from the crowd, as they were obviously disappointed. "OK, OK...
it's now time to pick our winner. Nashville, what'd you think of Sable!" The
crowd roared in approval as Sable continued to pose for them, shaking her ass
slightly as the yells got louder and louder. She was the obvious winner;
there wasn't even a point in asking for Torrie's reaction. It would only
embarrass her further...or so I thought. "Well alright, the fans love Sable.
But now, what does the Gaylord Entertainment Center think of our very own..."

"Hold on, Tazz. Wait just a minute. I...I wasn't quite finished yet." Torrie
explained, causing the crowd to sound out in confusion. "May I continue?"

"Please...by all means, yes!" He exclaimed, stepping back as the music once
again started up. Torrie reached around behind her back and untied the knot
in her top, dropping it to the floor and exposing tiny chain-triangles that
barely covered up her nipples, not to mention completely exposed her actual
breasts. She then reached down and untied the knots at her sides that kept
the bottom up, exposing a matching chained g-string that left very little to
the imagination. She walked around with a hand on her hip, waving out to the
now rambunxious crowd. "Wow! OK Nashville...what'd ya' think of Torrie
Wilson!" The crowd exploded in a chorus of cheers and whistles, blowing
Sable's initial reaction right out of the water. "I guess it's been decided.
Your winner is..."

* * *

...The lights unexpectedly dimmed, then flickered into complete darkness
before the familiar, haunting neon green glow rose up over every inch of the
arena. Pyro shot off at the entrance, forming the familiarized pot leaf
behind me as I stepped out to Tupac Shakur's "I Came To Bring The Pain." The
crowd rose up to their feet instantly, completely drowning out my music as I
slowly made my way to the ringside area. I held out my arms at my sides,
welcoming their cheers approval and concern for my well being; drawing them
into me as if my very existence depended on it. I motioned for a microphone
as I rounded the ring post, walking up the stairs and onto the ring apron.
I leant back against the ropes as the other pyro shot off from each corner
post, mocking Chris Jericho's entrance before stepping through the ropes and
into the same ring I had shed my blood not more than 30 minutes ago.

"Howdy there, Tazz. Wassup dawg?" I asked, giving him a typical slap of the
hand-into the hug move. "You enjoying yourself out here? I know I would be."
I said, looking towards the worried face of Torrie. 

"Oh yeah man, this is so great!" He exclaimed, chuckling a bit. "But not
greater than the match you had earlier. Let's give it up for 1 half of the
new Tag Team Champions...Violent J, everybody!" Tazz exclaimed, clapping in
respect for me.

"Oh no...none of that. I'm a very modest person, Tazz...I don't need all
those cheers. I'm very secure in my own ability. But that's not why I'm
here...not at all. I know these people respect me for what I've done here
tonight...so far, that is." I said, confusing both him, the fans, and both
lovely women before me.

"What'd you mean?" Tazz asked, stepping back and putting his arms out at his
sides challengingly.

"Well, all I'm saying is...they might not like me so much after I do THIS!"
I exclaimed, slamming my microphone as hard as I could across the side of
his head, dropping him down to the mat instantly. I stood over him and began
stomping away at his chest and stomach, almost pedaling my foot against his
body I was kicking so fast. Once I knew he was down for good I lifted him up
by his tie and threw him into the nearest corner, running and throwing my
arm against his chest and collarbone as hard as I could in a devastating
clothesline that dropped him down into the 2nd turnbuckle. I then grabbed
his sluggish form and threw him shoulder first into the ring post, causing
him to fall to the outside floor in obvious pain. "THAT'S what I mean! You
know damn well that Sable won this so-called contest. Why must you always
insult mine, and the intelligence of others?!" I yelled through the
microphone crazily. By now, Sable had crept up behind Ms. Wilson and the 2
had started cat fighting at my feet.

Torrie rolled over on top of Sable and started hitting her with everything
she had...until I came from behind and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her
up to face me. She stood perfectly still as I twirled her around to face me,
pushing her head forward and planting a kiss on her unsuspecting lips. I
pulled back and Torrie started breathing heavily, so I threw her into a
corner and stood pressed against her with my arms on either side of her,
staring deep into her eyes as my mind once again started to go blank...and
the voices reemerged. `Hurt her...*Hurt* her...' it continued, driving me
over the edge until I finally snapped.

"Hey Torrie...remember me?" I asked, the tone in my voice almost demonic.
She said nothing as I continued to stare her down. "Aw...what's the matter?
Why are you so afraid of me?" I asked sarcastically; smiling psychotically.

"Please Josh...you promised..." She sighed helplessly as I wrapped my fingers
one-by-one around her throat, applying slight pressure to her voice box as I
threw my arm into the air and signaled towards the crowd of what was to come
next.

"True...but you're forgetting that promises are made to be broken." I
answered quickly, placing my hand against the small of her back. I walked
backwards out of the corner while still clutching her by the gullet, tossing
her up effortlessly in an attempted chokeslam. But all of a sudden...

* * *

..."He's an American...Man!"

The classic tune that had been revived by Pat Patterson years ago
triumphantly blared through the speakers as the lights flickered back and
forth from red, white, and then to blue. The fans, who had been booing
seconds before, erupted vibrantly into a chorus of chants as the man, the
myth, the legend they knew and loved stepped out onto the stage. Hollywood
Hogan, under the guise of `Mr. America', slowly ran down the aisle and slid
into the ring, making me drop Torrie to the mat as he hit me with a running
clothesline; coming to her rescue so to speak. I sprung back up and into
another, then another before I eventually backed myself into a corner. He
ran at me full speed and slammed one of his 24 inch pythons right into my
throat, then scoop slammed me harshly in the direct center of the ring. As
I lay there and recollect myself, Hogan began doing his usual posing and
waving of the hand; capping it all off by ripping away his white shirt and
forcing me to crawl back against the bottom turnbuckle.

"YOU!" He shouted with the crowd simultaneously, pointing his index finger
toward me as I looked on in a daze. The crowd exploded into a tremendous pop
as they knew what was coming next. However, before he could even take a step
forward, Roddy Piper jumped over the security barrier and crawled into the
ring wielding a lead pipe in his left hand. He swung it viciously towards
Hogan's neck, but he ducked forward and Piper stumbled into the ropes and
walked back into Hogan's awaiting hand. He grabbed Piper by the hair, and
hoisted me up to my feet doing the same, rearing back with both arms before
smacking our heads together in the classic double-noggin-knocker. We both got
back up at the same time, and he was there to deliver a double clothesline
that flipped us both over the ropes and to the thinly padded floor below.

As Hogan stood poised inside the ring, he was completely oblivious to a
Vince McMahon chair shot directly to the shoulder blades. A cracking noise
coincided with the fans moans as Hogan dropped down to his knees, leaving
his back an open target for another devastating shot to the kidneys; keeping
him down long enough for Vince McMahon to order the start of the next match.

DING! DING! DING!

Roddy Piper climbed slowly into the ring and stood over Hogan, gloating in
his employers assistance. He grabbed Hogan by the blue and white-starred mask
and guided him forehead first into the top turnbuckle pad, pulling him back
up and slamming his face into it again. He did it again, but soon realized it
was having no affect on his adversary after succumbing to an elbow to the
jaw, a face slam into the turnbuckle, and then finally a right hand that sent
him plummeting to the canvas. He started to `Hulk Up' by shaking his arms up
and down repeatedly while drawing the energy from the crowd. Piper used
Hogan's pants to pull himself up to his knees, staring up into his eyes while
he begged for mercy.

"YOU!" Hogan again shouted, causing Piper to crawl backwards and into the
corner. Hogan followed in pursuit, but was distracted by McMahon once again
as he climbed up onto the apron. Vince threw a punch, but Hogan blocked it
and instead flipped him back first into the ring, clocking the oncoming Piper
with another straight right hand before giving McMahon the same treatment.
He grabbed Vince by the arm and Irish-whipped him into the far side ropes,
nailing him square in the face with his foot as Vince rebounded back and
into his extended leg, dropping the billionaire owner to the mat. He caught
another Roddy Piper sneak attack and turned it into a reverse atomic drop,
running back against the ropes and flooring Piper with another stiff
clothesline. Now Piper and McMahon's bodies lay with the tops of their heads
touching, forming the letter `I' as Hogan pointed towards them, then the
crowd, signaling for the big finale.

He built up a full head of steam and jumped over the fallen bodies, bouncing
off the ropes and jumping over them again before jogging forward and falling
down into a double leg drop, the impact on both men's chests causing them to
squirm around like dead fish. He stood up to make the pin, but I emerged from
out of his realm of vision and slammed the lead pipe forcefully into the
right side of his face. He went down slowly, clutching his head in shock as
I started to kick away at his chest and back. As he tried desperately to
climb up to a standing position I hooked his head under my arm, holding the
lead pipe against his forehead as I dropped down into an Evenflow DDT.
Somewhere in that span of time, Roddy Piper had gotten to his feet and
approached me from behind, slapping me gently on the shoulder to let me know
my assistance was no longer required. After he dragged the lifeless body of
Hogan from the ropes and towards the center of the ring, he went to go for
the pin...but instead meet the lead pipe forehead first, sending him down in
a crumpled heap as a PING noise echoed throughout the arena, bending the pipe
back upon impact.

I stood over the fallen contestants, holding my arms out at my sides as the
fans sounded in a chorus of deafening boo's. Goosebumps began to form all
over my entire body, a smile on my face as I spiked the pipe down to the
floor, then took Piper's limp right arm and draped it across The Hulkster's
chest, ordering the referee to make the count as I slid to the floor and
locked arms with Sable. I counted in unison with the referee as we walked
backwards up the ramp.

1...2...3!

DING! DING! DING!

As soon as the ref stopped counting he began frantically waving for the
EMT's to once again make their appearance. I looked inside the ring, and
Vince McMahon was staring at me. I gave him a thumbs up...and he smiled
back, returning the gesture in odd fashion, signaling that what I had done
was well appreciated. The insane look scared me a bit, but I quickly turned
my head towards Sable's face before another thought could cross my mind. I
couldn't help but smile...this bitch was gonna' be my slut. I didn't do what
I did for him...I didn't do what I did for her...I did what I did, because
of Stephanie-fucking-McMahon. Besides, I wanted to get laid already...it had
been a long night. That's why when I turned around to leave I never even
noticed that a skinny cripple had emerged from the crowd and physically
assaulted Vince by pulling him down from the apron, causing McMahon to hit
his chin against the apron and black out. I didn't even know his name...the
only thing I knew was that he wanted to be with Mr. America, and that
automatically made him against us...

* * *

...We stepped through the curtain, drowning out the crowd and continuing down
the steps until we began walking through the black tunnel that led into the
backstage area.

"Thank God...I thought you'd never show up. Where the fuck were you...what
took so long?" She asked, somewhat ignorantly. "I actually thought I was
gonna' lose."

"Oh, I'm sorry...I wasn't unconscious, or anything." I replied sarcastically.
I pulled a blunt out from my leg pocket and sparked it up, inhaling my first
drag before blowing it out into her face.

"Where the fuck do those keep coming from?" She exclaimed, flabbergasted.

"Nevermind that...what'd ya say we go back to your dressing room. As I
recall, we have some sort of arrangement for this evening...correct?" I
asked uncertainly.

"Well, at least you remembered that part. My room is all the way on the
other side of the building...in a highly secluded area. We can talk along
the way." She said, pinching my right ass cheek.

"About...what?" I asked anxiously. "What is there to talk about?"

"Are you happy, here on SmackDown!, Josh? Are you being treated fairly?"

"Well...I'd like to think so. Stephanie has been acting kind of strange,
though, lately. HHH beat the shit out of us before the match...and she
threatened to fire us if I retaliate in anyway. I want revenge so badly...
he injured Nick, again, and that back there was the only way I could think
of paying her back." I exclaimed in frustration. "It's like she doesn't want
me to hurt him, or something."

"Gee...I wonder why that is?" She said sarcastically.

"What'd you mean by that?"

"Like you don't know. Stephanie and Triple H have a well documented
relationship in this business...wouldn't you say?"

"Well, yeah...but that was years ago. They're not even on the same brand
anymore...she's not responsible for what I do to a RAW superstar. That's
Bischoff's fuckin' problem." I declared, taking a bong-sized rip from my
blunt and exhaling emphatically.

"Are you really that oblivious? Don't you know what's happening in about 4
months from now?" She asked annoyingly.

"No..."

"Hunter & Stephanie are getting married, Josh! They may have broken up on
TV...but they are still alive and well off-camera. She's using you to get
her rich...to add to her earnings for when they settle down to have a family.
Hunter's been injured so many times...that's why she doesn't want you to go
after him. If it was anybody else, she wouldn't give a fuck...but he's too
big of a liability. She knows you can beat him...but you're not on his level.
She's gonna' keep you two as far apart from each other as she can, for as
long as possible."

"What...how can that be? I thought they were only dating."

"Mr. McMahon raves on and on about the wedding constantly...talks about how
much of a pain in the ass it's gonna' be, not to mention the cost." She
responded.

"But...Vince is a billionaire. Money should be no option for him...I mean
shit, look at the whole XFL ordeal!" I exclaimed in disbelief.

"That's exactly the case. Ever since that disaster, he's been in somewhat of
a depression because he keeps losing money. The XFL, Pay-per-view buyrates,
merchandising, everything is slowly ruining him. The fans are slowly starting
to lose interest...but that's where you fall into play. You two are this
company's next saving grace...a reincarnation of Goldberg, if you will."

"Oh my God...it's so obvious, I can't believe I didn't see this before! Damn
her...Damn her straight to the fiery depths of blackest hell! To think I
slept with her for my job...I've been desecrated! I should've slept with
*you* when I had the chance...what is wrong with me?!" I exclaimed, banging
my right hand against the wall in stupidity.

"It's OK Josh...you still have the chance to make it up to me." She said,
grabbing me by the hand. We took a right turn, then stopped at a single door
that read `SABLE' across the nameplate. "Were here..." She said, handing me
the key.

"I can't believe Stephanie is out to get me. We're ruined..." I trailed off,
pushing the metal object inside the knob and turning, kicking the door open
and leading her inside before slamming it shut and re-locking it behind me
in immense anticipation. We met halfway, but before she could wrap her arms
around my neck I gently pushed her back and took out a blunt from my leg
pocket. I lit it and hit, blowing smoke upwards and into my nostrils before
slowly exhaling, calming me down from my outburst moments ago. I then grabbed
my bag and headed towards the bathroom door.

"I'll be right back...gotta' piss." I said, tossing the bag into the darkness
before me.

"And I'll be waiting." She answered as I slid my hand up the inside wall and
flipped on the light switch, stepping inside the bathroom and closing the
door behind me. I dropped my pants and stood over the toilet, waiting until
I felt the stirring in my cock before blasting a stream of urine into the
bowl that nearly lasted 2 whole minutes.

"Ahhh...that was nice." I said, doing the shake maneuver before pulling my
pants back up. I quickly reached for the door handle, but instead stopped
after eyeing my bag once again. Why I had actually thrown it in ahead of me
was more of an instinct...but the more I thought about it, the better of an
idea it became. I reached forward and unzipped it, pulling out my spy
glasses and flipping the switch to `on.' The lenses whirred and lit up,
signaling to me that they were running, so I took off my regular pair and
placed the mini-camera snugly over my ears and against the bridge of my
nose before grabbing my blunt and flushing the toilet.

"Now...how exactly can I go about `repaying' you?" I asked rhetorically,
placing the blunt into my mouth and running my hands under the cold water
that came pouring from the faucet. After wiping them on a towel, I flipped
off the light and walked forward towards the couch after opening the door.
"You may resume." I said, taking another hit from my blunt. 

"Well...first we need to talk *business*..." She trailed off, placing her
right hand against my cheek.

"Umm...what business? I don't recall this being about business, Sable. This
is strictly physical." I reminded her, blowing smoke out as I talked. She
took my hand into hers and led me over to the couch, pushing me down gently
by the shoulders in a sitting position. "You helped me...now I help you.
It's as easy as that." I said, aggravated and horny.

"That is true...*but*, you haven't actually lived up to your end of the
bargain yet."

"Which is why I don't understand why were still talking. You want some dick,
Sable, it's all right here." I exclaimed, pointing to the uncomfortable
tightness in my jeans.

"But that's not all I want from you, Josh. We want so much more..." She
trailed off, dropping to her knees between my spread legs.

"We?" I asked in disbelief. "Who's the other part of `we?'"

"Well...upon approaching you, I had a little more in mind than what I led
you to originally believe. I have a business proposition for you...well,
actually, Mr. McMahon is the one who's all behind it. I was sent as, bait,
I guess you could say." She continued as her busy hands undid my fly,
eagerly pulling down the zipper and tugging them, along with my boxers,
gently down to my ankles as I lifted my ass slightly off the couch, kicking
them uselessly towards the corner of the room. My hardening cock began to
slowly stiffen in a horizontal rod, bulging tremendously before her as she
continued to tease me.

"What exactly are you getting at?" I asked impatiently, continuing to puff
on my blunt in nervous anticipation. She rubbed up my shins and over my
knees, lightly caressing the inner and outer parts of my thigh as the
goose-bumps slowly formed across my skin. She looked up into my eyes and
licked her lips before continuing her pitch.

"We want High Time, plain and simple. Vince is sick and tired of the way
Stephanie has handled the SmackDown! brand. As a result, he's going to force
her to quit...by any means necessary. That, my friend, is where you come in.
She's standing in your way...make her resign any way that you have to. He
gave me that information about their wedding so I could pass it on to you.
She's keeping secrets from you...secrets that have an overall affect on your
career now, and onward into the future. We want you to stop her before she
gets out of control...make her resign any way that you have to. Vince is
willing to pay you rather handsomely for your services...but even that can't
compare to what I`m offering." She answered, slowly wrapping her fingers
around my cock shaft. She pumped it slowly and smoothly between her fist,
making it grow to peak hardness as the pre-cum oozed from my piss-hole,
coating it with a fine lubricant that added to my pleasure as she continued
to jack me off.

"B-but...you & Vince? Why...of all the people?" I asked through the immense
pleasure. My eyes already felt like they were gonna' roll into the back of
my head, but I managed to keep my vision steady enough to watch her answer
my question.

"I did what I had to do to get my job back...but otherwise, it's all for
the money. He can't satisfy me...too many steroids. I'm nothing more than a
trophy, my only purpose for even being at his side is to make him look like
more of a man. You're the only satisfaction I need..." She trailed off,
popping my cock head into her mouth and rubbing it with her lips.

* * *

"Well..."

"No, no...don't answer now. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy." She sighed,
kissing my pulsating dick head. I dropped my head back against the black
leather upholstery and stared up at the ceiling in immense anticipation.
Without further hesitation, Sable jammed more than half of my hefty member
into her mouth and continued to force more upon herself. I sat proudly with
my hand pressed firmly against the back of her blonde haired head, guiding
the company slut as she gobbled my dick with an uncanny determination;
continuing to stuff it inch-by-inch down her throat until her nose made
contact with my dark pubic hair. She hummed softly, the vibrations sending
chills up and down my spine that soon coincided with her jaw as she
instantly pulled back up, remaining attached onto my purple helmet with
her lips as she reached down and grabbed my balls. She began to knead my
testicles, rubbing and cradling them with her fingers as she leaned in and
ran her tongue over the thick skin, rolling them off the tip of her tongue
and stuffing them greedily into her mouth while simultaneously juggling
them around with it, sucking on them with reckless abandon. I quickly grew
tired of this and pulled her from my nuts, giving her no time to react
before stabbing my rock-hard dick down her throat.

"I hope you like it rough, bitch, `cause that's all I know." I exclaimed,
pushing down on the back of her head. Willingly, the hungry slut accepted
her force-fed meal and swallowed the entire length in one large breath,
trying numerous times to come back up for air an failing miserably with
each attempt. I kept her lips sealed tightly around the tip of my cock as
I commanded her to keep sucking, guiding her head with my hand in several
up and down strokes as if I were dribbling a basketball; her mouth coming
back up to the same spot around my head like a lollipop before plopping it
out of her mouth with a fleshy smack. She came up for air once again, but
I thrust my tool as far down her esophagus as humanly possible, bottoming
out inside her mouth as my balls rested comfortably against her chin.
"You're throats so fuckin' tight...oh God!" I exclaimed, patting her on
the top of the head. I grabbed her by the scalp and pulled up forcefully,
watching her gasp for air as the involuntary tears streamed down her
cheeks.

"I love it rough, baby..." She moaned, licking the underside of my cock. I
grabbed her by the chin and held her face firmly as I stared into her red
eyes. 

"You love dick, don't you bitch? Tell me you love this dick...beg me for it
right now, you slut." I commanded, smacking her hard across the right cheek
with my stiff boner.

"Please fuck me...it's been so long. I need your cock so badly..." She
moaned, continuing to fist it.

"Tell me you want to get stuffed, cunt. Put my dick in your fuckin' mouth,
and tell me you want to get stuffed." I ordered, shoving her mouth back down
on my cock, forcing it harshly down the entire length of her throat once
again.

"I...wn...taget...stoofed..." She murmured. It was nothing more than
gibberish, but the vibrations felt good against the veins in my dick, so it
was all good. I just wanted to humiliate her a bit for the camera. 

"That's what I thought...get up and show me the goods, first." I ordered,
twirling my index finger around in a circle. She quickly sprung up and
untied the knot in her bikini top, tossing it at my head before revealing
her succulent tits, holding them up and sticking out her chest to show
them off in all her glory. "Those are very lovely," I said, imitating Jim
Carrey in `Ace Venture: When Nature Calls.' "But now, I gotsta see that
fuckin' ass." I commandeered, pointing towards a metal folding chair in
the corner. She grabbed and opened it up, slowly turning around and
grabbing the back of the chair before bending over in a perfect 90 degree
angle, arching her back slightly and jutting out her cheeks to accentuate
my height advantage. "Yeah...that's nice." I said, trying my hand at
mocking Tim Meadows' character Leon Jamison, otherwise known as `The
Ladies Man.' I reared back with my right palm and slapped it as hard as
I could against her right ass cheek, squeezing the tanned flesh between
my fingers repeatedly before guiding them both up her sides and to the
waist-line of her bikini bottom. I tugged down effortlessly and the velvet
material slid down to the floor, helping her step out of them before
throwing them across the room.

She looked back at me while continuing to bend over the back of the chair,
spreading her legs in the shape of an upside down `V' while pushing her ass
out; her high-heels responsible for the angle at which she was bent. Her
hair was completely covering her face from all sides, and just the faint
outline of her dark, mischievous eyes and sultry, pouted lips could be seen
through the shiny blond waves.

"You ready for this shit, or what?" I asked, standing up behind her and
slapping my dick against the underside of her hips and cunt.

"Oh yes, fuck me...fuck me hard!" She exclaimed impatiently.

"You bet I'm gonna' fuck you...I'ma fuck the shit out of you." I said,
grabbing her by the hair and pulling back. She shot up straight and rested
her head back against my left shoulder as I kissed along the nape of her
neck, aggressively fondling her tits and tweaking her nipples with my
fingers as she started to breath harder in building pleasure.

"Please...enough teasing." She panted, her lips quivering. I suddenly pushed
her forward very abruptly so her chest and arms rested on the seat of the
chair, eliciting a low moan from her throat as she looked back in my face.

"You like being dominated, bitch?" I asked, slapping her in the right ass
cheek. She arched her back and stood with her legs perfectly straight,
thrusting her ass back against my thick hose.

"Give it to me nice and hard, Big Daddy," She instructed, spreading her legs
and wrapping them around my calves as she lie in the doggy-style position,
trying to pull me in closer. I grabbed my schlong by the base and, wasting
no time, thrust hard into Sable's cunt, driving my shaft through the soft
labial lips and into her hot insides. Her legs strained a bit and the muscles
tightened as I pushed forward and started a steady rhythm, moving my hips as
far back as she would allow before bottoming out inside her, rocking my hips
back and forth like a rocking horse as I slowly started pounding away at her
lower extremities. The muscles in my ass fluctuated with each pump of my
pelvis, driving my rod in and out of her tunnel as the friction continued to
build. Her legs uncurled from around my legs and rested solidly on the
ground, giving her leverage as she started to push back against my hips for
maximum penetration. She reached her arm through her legs and twiddled her
clit furiously as I slammed her, grabbing my thigh with the other and holding
on for leverage as my love-pork continued to re-decorate her womb. 

"Yes!" she chanted, digging her nails into my flesh. "Fuck me! Fuck me hard!"
She ordered, grinding her hips against mine as I held myself deep inside her.
I cleared the wet hair from my eyes and continued to bang the sultry Diva
with unrelenting fury. "Harder Josh...harder!" Sable screamed, throwing her
head back from off the seat of the metal chair. "FUCK ME HARDER!" I took hold
of her calves and held them steady, hoisting her ass and lower extremities
into the air and holding onto them like handlebars, sliding my slick dick in
and out of her juicy cunt at a blinding speed. Sweat poured furiously down
her forehead and dripped onto the floor with each solid thrust from my pole,
her breasts flailing around helplessly as the skin of her ass jiggled. Her
face twisted and contorted with each hump, holding her mouth open as she
continued to scream my name.

As I looked into her eyes, I began to realize the seriousness of the
situation. I felt my balls boiling, which pre-empted the overwhelming
sensation of tiredness that came over the muscles in my body. As I had
stated before, Sable was way too much for me to handle, and soon I just
couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh shit...I think I'm gonna' blow." I exclaimed from the intensity. I bent
over slightly, draping my hair down against her shoulders as I licked up and
down her spine. My rock-hard testicles rested on her ass-crack as my motions
slowed down significantly to a rubbing of hips against hips, feeling the
muscles of her love tunnel squeeze and push me in deeper. I stopped all
together and pulled out to where only my head was inside her, steadying
myself before slamming it all back inside. I pulled back out and slammed
against her cunt again, then finally lost all control and started rapidly
pummeling her open lips as my balls slapped against her asshole; switching
it up on her, so to speak.

"Oh God yes...in my mouth, cum in my mouth!" She cried out, her breaths
coming more rapidly in an approaching orgasm. I pulled out with a slick pop
and held my throbbing cock over her face as she knelt down in front of me,
jacking myself off as she sucked furiously on my balls. I panted through
each fluent stroke, breathing heavily as I forced myself into her awaiting
mouth upon feeling the stir in my loins. A long strain of moans escaped my
throat, followed shortly by the ropes of man butter that shot fluently from
my engorged penis. She moaned vigorously as I painted the back of her
throat, each stroke of her hand against my balls causing it to twitch in
sheer delight.

"Oh...Oh fuck! Hmmm...hmmm...hmmm," I coincided in unison with my
ejaculations as they dribbled from my piss-hole, forcing her throat to
contract and gulp around my softening shaft. After completely emptying
my balls content down her throat, I pulled my cock from her greedy mouth
and plopped down on the couch behind me.

"That was...amazing." I exclaimed, looking up into the lights. "Good God...
if this is a dream, I never wanna' wake up!" I continued, rubbing my eyes
back into focus.

"What do you mean, `was'? We're not done...you haven't gotten a piece of
what you came for yet." She emphasized by slapping her ass a few times,
then cradled the firm skin between her fingers and squeezed it gently.

"As much as I hate to admit this...you are too much for me to take. You'll
fuckin' kill me...and as flattering as that sounds, I don't plan on dying
any time soon."  Sable crawled forward from the floor and in-between my
legs once again.

"Uh uh...it's either all or nothing." She said, spitting on my limp cock.
She started to pump it with her fist, and it instantly sprang back to life.
It was a little painful, but I began to feel an adrenaline rush hit my
system that made me ignore the pain. My dick was at peak hardness, 8.5
inches, as she stood to her feet and grabbed me by the chin, looking deep
into my eyes. "You don't even have to move...let me do all the work." She
turned her back to me and held my dick steady with her hand as she dropped
down on it in a squatting position. Gradually, my saliva slicken cock poked
through the strong defenses of her ass cheeks and penetrated her asshole.
With a yelp, Sable sat down on my tool and reached forward to grab the edge
of the chair in front of her with both her arms. She arched her back and
slid down, spreading her ass cheeks as she bent her thighs around mine and
squatted all the way down to the base.

"Oh fuck..." I exclaimed. The pleasure felt so good it hurt, but she didn't
seem to mind at all. It only took her a couple of seconds to develop a steady
motion, plunging herself recklessly on my staff while squeezing my balls
simultaneously with her right hand. I couldn't believe how much energy she
demonstrated as she rode me with sheer, innate energy, jerking her body
violently in several directions without any regard at all. Her hips gyrated
back and forth, from side to side, as her ass twitched and clamped down
harder with each poke into her bowels. I grabbed her by the hair and guided
her, `chopping wood' as the fleshy smacks became louder and more frequent,
forcing more and more of my bulging prick into her buttery asshole. "Yeah...
ride me!" I moaned, rearing back and slapping her on the ass with my free
hand.

*SMACK*

"Ugh... oh god!" She moaned.

*SMACK*

"FASTER!" I screamed. Sable, the horny vixen she, abided to my request and
tightened the muscles in her sphincter, raping me with her again puckered
asshole as she planted her feet firmly on the ground below her for
foundation; preparing to liberate her sexual frustration in one final fuck
before starting to bounce herself like a ball. It was slow at first, tickling
my pubic hair as the soft skin of her ass brushed against my pelvis, but she
lifted back after a few rotations and slammed herself down the entire length
once again. She dipped down closer to the floor and lifted her entire ass of
my cock very slightly before slamming back down and repeating.

*SMACK*

"Yeah...you fuckin' like that?"

*SMACK*

"Yeah...is that good?!" She continued to taunt me, sliding up and down my
greased pole with incredible ease as her asshole widened acceptingly around
my girth. I fit nicely between her stout cheeks; not too loose, but not too
tight. `She's obviously done this before.' I said to myself, folding my arms
behind my head and getting caught up in the moment, watching Sable's ass
twirk at a blinding speed. I could easily see a hint of her monstrous jugs
flopping around with each steady bounce and smiled contently. I could feel
my balls -- bombarded with the heat coming from her soaked cunt -- tighten
as my prick suddenly twitched uncontrollably...another orgasm on its way.

"Are you going to cum for me again, baby?" She asked, feeling the tension
building inside my testicles.

"Ye...ye... yeah," I muttered, desperately attempting to hold in the pending
release and enjoy this fuck for just a little while longer.

"I want it up my ass this time," Sable responded, sitting down on my shaft's
entire length. I let go of all my self-control and exploded inside her anal
passage, feeling her sphincter contract with every spurt of my jizz into the
depths of her colon. "Ooooh yes...cum up my fuckin' ass! Oh God...Hmmm yeah!"
She moaned out as I continued to hump her where the sun don't shine. My mouth
hung open in shock, but no words could escape as my 2nd, and biggest, flow of
the evening drained my balls completely. "Ooh...oh God...Mmmm yeah! Oh
fuck...I`m gonna` cum baby!" She exclaimed, finally succumbing to an orgasm.
She shook against my shaft as it sat snugly inside, all the holes in her body
tightening up before she slumped lifelessly to the floor, exploding her
juices all over my sternum and balls while I nibbled furiously at her ear
lobe. I pulled out of her with a pop, wiping the juices from my dick into her
skin and standing to my feet. I went into the bathroom and wiped myself
further after taking a well needed piss, gathering up my shit and putting on
my clothes before lighting up a blunt and throwing her key on the nearby end
table.

"Thanks for the good time, bitch...I'll see *you* on SmackDown!." I
commented, slapping her right ass cheek. My nut dribbled down slowly from
the expanded hole upon the impact of flesh on flesh, but she had passed out
from the pleasure...so she couldn't hear me anyways. "Looks like Bischoff's
gonna' see you soon, too." I added, chuckling to myself before closing the
door behind me and walking towards the parking lot...

* * *

Thursday, May 22nd - SmackDown!

...I arrived at the arena at around 3:00 PM after a rather disturbing phone
call from Stephanie that demanded my appearance at once.

"Josh, it's Stephanie. Get your sorry ass down here NOW!" CLICK

That was the gist of it. Normally that wouldn't have pissed me off so bad,
but the fact that she woke me up from a sound sleep was the last straw. I
pulled my Escalade into an empty parking space and stopped abruptly, jumping
out onto the concrete floor and slamming the door with authority. I was
pissed...who the fuck was this bitch to demand things of me?

"I'm payin' her fuckin' bills right now...no thanks to Hunter's bitch ass."
I said to myself as I walked around towards the back of the arena. I had
recently found out there is a special entrance into the facility for talent
and personnel only...something that could have been brought to my attention
sooner, but I guess it really doesn't matter. I pushed through the double
doors and stepped into the hallway, stopping casually to light up a blunt
before continuing towards Stephanie's office. I passed by the locker rooms
and turned a right corner until I meet a stairway. I climbed up each step
slowly and steadily, gathering my thoughts and putting together what I had
to say...and that was a lot. Upon reaching the top I found a single door
located at the back of another hallway, the nameplate of which read
`Stephanie McMahon - General Manager.'

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

I stood back with my left hand behind my back as I smoked the precious weed,
taking 3 tiny hits in one before literally swallowing the smoke down into my
lungs and exhaling a hazing fog that wafted freely around my head.

"Come in." Came a voice from the other side. I turned the handle and threw
the door open, stepping into the fairly sized room and then quickly slamming
it shut behind me, tapping the cigar paper to ash my blunt on the floor.

"Alright Steph...(inhaling)...what the fuck is so important...(inhaling)...
that I gotta' show up 4 hours before work?" I exclaimed, blowing another
massive smoke cloud towards her face.

"You think this is so fuckin' hilarious, don't you?" She asked, sitting back
in her leather chair.

"I think *what* is so fucking hilarious? I'm not laughing...do you see a
smile on my face? Do I look amused to be here...I don't think so." I
exclaimed, slamming my fists down on the desk. I stood hunched over,
looking straight into her eyes furiously. "Start talking!"

"Calm down `Violent J'." She said while motioning quotation marks with her
fingers. "I heard about the other altercations you had last night after
leaving against my request, something I specifically told you NOT to do.
Why do you feel it is necessary to always defy your superior?"

"If you were in my shoes, Stephanie, wouldn't you want revenge? If some
arrogant, prick piece-of-shit assaulted you before the most important match
of your life for no actual reason, other than the fact that I did a damn
good impersonation of him, make you mad?" I asked seriously, ashing on her
desk before inhaling more weed through the encircled blunt opening.

"That's not the point, Josh. I told you not to do something, and you did
it anyway. That shows that you don't respect me, as a person or a general
manger. All I tried to do was help you make it safely through the rest of
the night, and what do you do? You get in another fight with Flair and
Orton...not to mention blacking out for a 2nd time in front of Trish
Stratus. You're always wanting to mingle with RAW superstars, and for one
reason or another you always end up either hurting yourself, or someone
else." She shot back, sitting forward and getting up in my face as she
talked. "I care about your condition, but your reckless behavior makes it
really hard to sympathize for your injuries."

"Bull-fucking-shit! You don't care about us...all you care about is the
money we bring in." I declared, throwing her off.

"What?"

"That's right, bitch, I'm on to you. Don't think for 1 second that I don't
know what you tried to do, Stephanie." I continued. "Before our match, Nick
and I were *attacked* by Randy Orton, and your "former" husband HHH. Those
mother fuckers damn near left us for dead...hit Nick in the back of his head
with a sledgehammer and took me out with a fuckin' chair shot. Then, you
unveil the impossibly difficult "mystery opponents!" Yeah, real smooth on
that decision...did you want us to lose *that* badly? I mean, why didn't you
just have us shot at instead? At least *that* would have got the job DONE!"

"Excuse ME?!" She exclaimed, her eyes widened and alert in shock. We both
just kinda' stared at each other for a minute, deadlocked by the feelings of
anger and resentment towards each other; the tension in the air so thick that
you could cut it with a butter knife, one could say. "How could you even
accuse ME of something like that?" She exclaimed, raising her hand as to slap
me. "I wanted so bad for you guys to succeed...and now that you have, this is
how you thank me? Well I'll be God DAMNED, if I'm gonna' waste my time and
effort on someone as unappreciative as you are, Josh! I saw something in you
guys...something that Eric Bischoff failed to capitalize on because he took
your experience for granted. I MADE you, Josh...you and Nick are my creation!
Do you have ANY idea, whatsoever, just how long it took most of the guys in
the back to make it where you are now? You have a better chance of being a
starter in the NFL, for Christ's sake!" She declared furiously as I grabbed
her wrist and pushed back.

"Then how else can you explain our match with Brock Lesnar...The Guerreros...
the incident backstage, and the whole Sable thing? I finally have you figured
out for the true person that you are...you're a McMahon. You do your best to
bring in upcoming stars and other rising talents...then you under use them at
your will, whether it be an unexpected plummet from the top of the rankings
or a disastrous first run that destroys what amazing potential they once had.
You don't care about the lives that you destroy, and you'll do your very best
to make sure that when it's all said and done they'll never be the same
again. I may be a wrestling fan at heart...but I'm not an IDIOT. I know for
a fact that in about 4 months, you and that arrogant, self absorbed, horrible
excuse for a wrestler are getting married. The fans might not realize that it
was you that drove Chyna out of the federation, once she found you and Triple
H messing around with each other, but I`m very aware of it."

"So...what's your point?" She asked sarcastically.

"Remember the McMahon-Helmsley faction? You ended the career of one of this
sport's greatest, Mick Foley...all so your piece of shit soon-to-be husband
could take over as boss heel, thus ruining any and all respect that the
world title used to have. Just because he's fuckin' the bosses daughter, he
automatically gets a say in every direction his career takes. I've fucked
you...so has Nick. What's up with that...where's our input? Together, you`d
slowly wear away any dignity this once-great promotion still has left...and
I refuse to have any part in that whatsoever."

"Why do you think I made you guys co-Gm's? I get what I want, however I need
to get it. That's what being a McMahon is all about. If you're good at what
you do, I need you to make me money. But whenever I get tired of a wrestlers
performance I toss them aside and eventually throw them away, much like a
child and it's toys. You're all nothing more than props to me." She
emphasized through an arrogantly blank stare. "Especially Triple H."

"What? Are you serious?" I asked in disbelief. She walked towards me and
grabbed my dick through my pants, squeezing it to full erection as she
whispered something in my ear.

"As you can probably imagine, Hunter isn't "The Game" in all aspects. I
humor him with pity sex...that's why he's so upset all the time. Too many
steroids..." She sighed, busily unzipping my fly.

"Get the fuck off me you slut! This shit's all a fuckin' game to you...no
matter what the price. I guess that's what Hunter meant by what he said...I
really *can't* win with all these bullshit politics. You use your body to
get what you want...but you already get what you want because you're rich.
You're a conniving, self-centered, backstabbing cunt...and no matter what I
do, you'll always be there to fuck me over at your very whim. I can't take
this shit anymore..." I explained myself as I backed off of her and headed
towards he door. "As long as you call the shots, controversy will always be
that which continues to surface."

"I don't know what you *think* you know, but if I were you, I would research
my facts a little before I went accusing my boss of something not true. As
for me being a slut, I guess you could say that, but hey...I just love cock.
You just so happen to have a nice one...that's it. This meeting is over, but
before you go there is just one more little thing." She said, pausing
dramatically.

"And that would be?"

"You have a tag match tonight, against Lesnar, Angle, and Mr. America. I'm
giving you 4 hours to find 2 partners of your choice, so I would start
looking. Now get out of here." She said and went back to reading some
paper-work on her desk. I turned on my heel, and walked out of the door.
Pulling a blunt from behind my ear, I lit it with a quickness and inhaled
deeply, getting a rush from the first hit. As I rounded the corner, I began
to think of some people I could ask to be on my team for the match. Well,
Nick and I had attacked pretty much half of the SmackDown! roster, so the
pickings were slim to none. I circled back around another hallway that took
me in the direction of the parking garage. I had left my phone in the car
and I needed to call Nick and check on him. I cut through another side
hallway and went through the double-doors to the garage, taking a left up
the third row towards my car. I pulled out my keys and hit the alarm button.

"BOOP -BOOP" came the sound of my alarm turning off, and I opened the door
and slid in the driver's side. I reached into the center console to pull out
my cell-phone and dialed Nick's cell number. It rang twice and then Nick
picked up.

"Hello?" He asked. He sounded high as hell.

"What's up man? I'm sitting in my car at work and I thought I'd call and say
what's up."

"Not shit. So do you like the Navigator that's sitting next to your
Escalade?" He asked. I looked out the passenger window and took in the view
of the forest green Lincoln Navigator that was sitting next to my car. The
rims were 24 inches, 4 more than mine, and were shining like crazy. There
was about an inch left of the tire they were so big.

"Yeah, it's nice, but what the fuck does that have to do with anything?" I
asked, confused.

"Well it's mine, and I'm sitting inside it right now." He said as the window
rolled down slowly. I hopped out of my car and walked over to him, doing the
hand shake into the hug move.

"What the fuck man, when did you get this sweet ass ride?" I asked.

"I just bought it on the way down here from the hospital, and I thought I
would stop by and say hey. I can't wrestle cuz the doctor didn't clear me,
but I stopped by to smoke some weed with you. I bought a half-pound off RVD
today and it's hella good." He exclaimed, holding up a Ziploc bag containing
a giant chunk of the greenest weed I've ever seen. It's color could be
compared to that of a glass of Mountain Dew, and the purple hairs almost
wrapped around the entire bud as the crystals gleamed vibrantly. "Well...
get in already." He said, pointing towards the front seat. I walked around
to the other side and opened the door, sliding up into the seat and taking
in the leather interior all around me. Before closing the door I flicked
the remaining half of my previous blunt towards the ground.

"Sweet." I said, leaning back into the seat and reclining it.

"That's not all. Open the glove box, dawg." He instructed. I twisted the
knob and it dropped open, releasing a 20 inch screen from its confines that
popped out and up against the dashboard. A PS2 and 2 controllers sat on a
tray that slid out, giving you somewhat of an armrest while playing.

"Holy balls!" I exclaimed. I had my screen actually built into the dashboard,
but his setup was pimp. "That's fuckin' nice right there!"

"That's not even the best part. Check this out." He said, flipping a switch
that sat next to the wheel. The backseat lifted up and folded back, revealing
4 - 12 inch subwoofers all lined up consecutively. "So...what'd you wanna'
listen to?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Actually, right now I really need to get high." I said, not trying to
sound rude. He flipped down the sun visor and pulled out 2 blunts from the
`Kleenex' holder, flipping one towards me along with a lighter. I lit up
and inhaled, choking on the thick smoke before inhaling it deep into my
chest. The smoke expanded and burned in my lungs before I threw my head
back and exhaled in a perfectly straight line, sputtering for dear life as
the rush of THC overtook my blood, forcing a feeling of deep euphoria over
my aching body as I slumped back down in my seat once again.

"Damn man...this is some good shit! I'm already high." I exclaimed, taking
another bong-sized rip from the circular beauty in my hand.

"Yeah...(inhaling)...but you know what's even better?" Nick asked,
desperately trying to hold in his smoke as he shifted the car into drive,
speeding off towards the left before exiting the parking lot area. We
headed down the interstate and started cruising around downtown Memphis
10 minutes later, checking out the bitches and getting blowed as shit.

* * *

"I don't know, tell me."

"Stacy Keibler sucked my dick at the fucking hospital man. It was tight as
hell. She swallows!" He exclaimed.

"No shit!!! That is fuckin bad ass dude. I knew she was coming to visit you
cuz Trish said something about it, but I didn't think all that would happen.
I should've known though with you and your horny ass." 

"Trish, huh? Is there something further in depth that I should know about
between you 2 as well, or what?" He asked anxiously.

"Nah, don't draw too much into the situation man. After I regained
consciousness last night I left the medical facility and went off to find
HHH, but was instead jumped by Ric Flair and Randy Orton's bitch ass again.
Needless to say I stomped 'em, then went off to continue my search, but
before I could actually go anywhere I kinda' started to black out again. I
stumbled into her room and she helped revive me, then we talked for awhile
before some fucker named Jim barged in and ruined the mood. I haven't been
able to stop thinking about her ever since." I trailed off, looking into
the sky.

"You mean you didn't do anything with her? Dude...what the fuck is wrong
with you?" He asked, disappointingly.

"It's not like I didn't try. I don't know what it is man...it's like,
whenever she said something to me I melted. She's so hot...definitely
undeserving to myself."

"That's bullshit." He answered, exhaling another excruciatingly fat hit that
danced across the windshield. "You could get her...(exhaling)...if anyone
could. I mean, shit...(inhaling)...ya' got Stephanie-fuckin'-McMahon all over
your nuts already! It's only...(inhaling)...a matter...(exhaling)...of time,
my friend."

"Yeah, well, if Stephanie was any indication of a future relationship I might
have...(inhaling)...then I might as well kick myself in the balls right now."
I exclaimed, exhaling another mind-blowing swirl of thick fog from within my
chest.

"Do what?" He asked suspiciously, slowly rolling to a stop at a nearby
traffic light.

"Well, as of last night, Stephanie McMahon...(inhaling)...and High Time have
parted ways...on account of the fact that she's vouching for Triple H." I
explained, exhaling my smoke across the dashboard.

"What? What the fuck are you talking about Josh...This isn`t how things were
supposed to go." He exclaimed, staring at me through eyes of fire.

"Yeah. She's protecting him for their wedding. Hunter's bitch-ass is too much
of a liability for their future family." 

"Bullshit!" He exclaimed in disbelief.

"No way man, it's the fucking truth. I meet up with Sable last night after
the show, and she made me see the error of our ways."

"Come on Josh, that`s absolutely ridiculous. You've always been easily
influenced by the bitches...what makes you think she's even telling the
truth?" He asked, somewhat perturbed.

"Seriously Nick, think about it. Haven't you noticed the change in her
attitude as of late? She's been acting like a really big bitch ever since
we gave her the dick!"

"Dude...did you ever stop to think that it may be her time of the month?"
He asked slowly through red eyes.

"That thought crossed my mind a couple times, but when you look at the trail
of recent events that led up to last night, it all makes sense. When you got
jumped by the Guerreros, Stephanie was keeping me distracted in our locker
room by pretending to get up on me. That's why she kicked me in the balls...
to soften us up for the match later. When we won, however, we foiled her
plan...so what did she do next? She gave us the titles to soften us up again,
then sent Evolution to wear us out...unveiling the mystery opponents that
were supposed to be to our advantage. When we beat *them*, she got really
desperate and had me attacked again after the match. She built us up just to
make our fall all the more painful...exactly like I said would happen if we
were ever to lose our jobs. She's trying to sabotage our run in the
federation before it ever gets started...all so her fucking husband can steal
the spotlight for more undeserving years to come." 

"Wow...interesting." He said. "But you're rambling...so chill the fuck out
before I smack you." He answered.

"Fuck you, bitch, I know what I'm talking about! You can't say that anything
I've said so far doesn't at least sound somewhat coincidental. Just *think*
about it, Nick...Stephanie used to be such a bitch before the Alliance fell
through...and the McMahon-Helmsley faction before that. Isn't she long
overdue for another heel turn?"

"Touch‚ salesman." He said slyly.

"What??"

"Nothing...go on." He replied.

"Ok, so ya' see...she's getting rich off of us. She even told me in our
meeting today that were all nothing more than props to her...especially
Triple H. She's a McMahon, Nick, and the only reason she made us co-Gm's
was to seal the deal. It truly is `all about The Game.'"

"Where exactly are you going with this?"

"Well, after my whole encounter with Trish I decided to make a little trip
down to the ring. I interrupted the bikini contest and assisted Vince McMahon
in Mr. America's defeat. Because of this, Sable was given to me as a gift...
in the hopes that we would redirect our services against his daughter, due to
the fact that he has tired of the job she's been doing. We have to make her
quit by any means necessary." I informed him.

"OK...so let me get this straight. We're betraying Stephanie, a McMahon, to
join Vince, another McMahon? That doesn't sound too enticing to me. As a
matter of fact, I'd say that's even worse." He exclaimed, blowing another
blunt rip into my eyes.

"And how so?" I shot back.

"How many times has Vince McMahon fucked people in the past? He can't be
trusted Josh...the man's nearly psychotic. Anything Stephanie had planned
for us will seem like spilt milk when it comes down to it. If we don't make
him happy, he'll leave us unhappy...know what I'm sayin'? I don`t trust him
at all." He repeated

"True, but if we make him happy...he'll make sure were never unhappy again.
He has so many different ways of showing his thanks it's ridiculous...imagine
all the perks of being Vince McMahon's henchmen. Instead of us getting fucked
over all the time as faces, we'll be doing the fucking as heels. Nothing bad
can come out of that situation." I exclaimed.

"Whatever you say, Josh. I just hope, for our sakes, that you know what
you're getting us into." Sadly enough, neither of us had a clue...

* * *

...SmackDown! opened up with Stephanie McMahon's music instead of the usual
flashy entrance. She strutted down the aisle, with mic in hand, and walked
up the steel steps. She stepped into the ring through the second and third
ropes before immediately signaling for her music to be stopped, waving the
lights back on as well before addressing the crowd, wasting no time in
starting the show.

"Violent J...get out here, now!" She exclaimed in her annoying shriek of a
voice. The lights flickered into total darkness, then slowly lit back up as
the haunting green glow slowly crept over the crowd. Tupac's voice blared
through the speakers in the ceiling and throughout the arena as I stepped
through the sparkling black curtain and stood with my arms out at my sides,
title on my shoulder, basking in the fans mixed reaction before Sable
emerged from behind me. She held out her hand and I took it, hooking my arm
with hers as we walked together down the aisle. I held her hand as she walked
up the stairs, taunting towards the crowd as she held the ropes open for me.
I stepped through and into the ring, grabbing the second rope and pulling up
so she could slink inside as well, walking steadily towards the center of the
ring.

"You called?" I asked sarcastically, snatching the microphone from her grasp.
Another one was quickly distributed to her from one of the ring announcers on
the floor, and as she grabbed it from him she gave me a look of pure hatred
that burned in her eyes.

"As a matter of fact, I did. Do you have any idea why?" She asked, furiously.
I placed my hand against my chin and started to slowly stroke my goatee in
deep thought.

"Um...no, not really. Why is it, prˆt ell, that my presence is required so
early in the show? These people don't deserve to see me *now!*" I exclaimed
as Sable leant up against me. The crowd immediately broke out in a chorus of
resounding boos. I had become a heel overnight, and nobody even knew why.
They were disappointed in me, it seemed...but I couldn't have cared less.
"I'm one-half of the new WWE Tag Team Champions...I deserve some respect."

"That is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. What's with the
attitude...what did these people do to you?" She asked, gauging their
vibrant reaction. "I mean, were they not just chanting your name less
than 24 hours ago...when you climbed the ladder and The Chief came
crashing down from 18 feet in the air onto The Undertaker, did they
not give you a standing ovation?" She asked.

"It's not the fans fault...there's nothing they could ever do to fix it.
It's all because of *you*, Stephanie McMahon. When The Chief got assaulted
by Los Guerreros, did you make it any easier on me in the match later? No.
Where was the respect, from you or the fans? There was none. They didn't
care...just like they didn't care about the fact that we were assaulted
before our match last night. Where's the respect in that?" I exclaimed.

"In all fairness, J, the people didn't know. As a matter of fact, one of
the very reasons I came out here tonight was to address that situation to
them. Violent J & The Chief were brutally attacked before their match last
night by Triple H & Randy Orton, of RAW brand fame. Although they wrestled,
not to mention won the match, The Chief was taken to a local hospital
immediately afterwards to be treated for several minor injuries. His
condition is not yet known, but as soon as there is an update we will let
you know for sure." She explained. All I could do was sit back and smile.

"Yeah...and that's not even the half of it." I continued.

"What are you talking about?" She retorted.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. After I woke up from my coma,
which you forgot to mention by the way, I went after that son of a bitch...
but was threatened with my job in the process." I said, shocking the crowd
into a vow of silence. "Yeah, that's right...Stephanie McMahon didn't want
me to hurt Triple H. I wonder why that is?" I asked suspiciously.

"Doesn't Triple H wrestle on RAW?" Sable asked, speaking into the microphone.

"That's what I was led to believe. Could it be that Hunter's jumping ship...
or might there be a little something more behind her decision?" I asked,
raising interest in the crowd as they began to buzz amongst themselves.

"I've told you this before, and I'll tell you once again: I had nothing to
do with either of your attacks. I'm not the same Stephanie McMahon I used
to be...I now specialize in the interest of fairness. Everybody is treated
just and equally...they all get their fair chance to shine." She replied
arrogantly. Something inside my head snapped and forced me to lunge forward,
wrapping my fingers slowly around her throat and pushing back into the
nearby turnbuckle. If only the fans could know the truth...it was burning
me up inside.

"Now you KNOW, that's...not...true!" I exclaimed through gritted teeth. I
started to push my fingers harder towards one another, feeling her throat
muscles contract and spasm against my palm. She tried helplessly to push my
arm away, looking up into my eyes in sheer terror. "Tell them the TRUTH!
NOW!" I shouted into the microphone, taking in the crowd's cries of
compassion and disappointment as they watched on in horror. She just
continued to stare up into my face, so I backed out of the corner and
hoisted her up onto my shoulders in the F-5 position while still holding
the microphone. "Why does everybody always have to do things the HARD WAY!?
Just admit IT, Stephanie...that`s all I wanna` hear."

"Josh...please!" She pleaded.

"No! Either you do what I say...or I've got a pretty incriminating piece of
video tape that might change your mind." I slowly announced, dropping her
down to the mat as a vision popped inside my head. An evil smile crept
across my face as Stephanie gasped and struggled to stand up, looking into
my deranged eyes before realizing the threat at hand; Mr. America down on
the ground, bleeding profusely and mask-less...Vince & Sable, are upset?
What...it doesn't make sense?!

"No...you can't. You wouldn't..." She exclaimed, widening her eyes. Her mouth
hung open in disbelief of what she had just heard. I snapped out of my trance
and focused

"Oh trust me...I would. And I WILL, if you don't tell this crowd the truth.
Tell them what's going on in the back! I'm not a bad guy...but when you
insult my intelligence, it only infuriates me even more. And once I snap,
I can't be held accountable for my actions...that's when accidents happen."
I stopped, flashing a fake full-toothed smile. "And as God as my witness,
Ms. McMahon, unless you want the rest of your life ruined within a span of
20 minutes...you will tell the fans what I've been waiting to hear." I
exclaimed, dropping the instrument to the mat. Stephanie picked it up and
put it against her lips, opening her mouth as the crowd stood still in
anticipation of what was to come next. But then...

* * *

..."He's An American, Man!" The lights flickered back and forth between the
three colors this country was based on, showering the entrance ramp with
stars and stripes as none other than Mr. America stepped through the curtain
and walked slowly down to the ring. He waved `Old Glory' back and forth
proudly in the air, jogging slowly up the steel steps and stepping through
the ropes into the ring. He taunted the crowd and waved his arm against his
ear, flexing his muscles emphatically before ripping away the thin material
of his white tank-top. Upon locking eyes with me his demeanor turned serious,
gesturing for a microphone from the ring announcer before stepping up in my
face.

"Listen up, brother!" He exclaimed. "Before last night, I had no beef with
you. I just went out, in front of this crowd, man, and tried my best to put
on a show for these fans. They don't like Roddy Piper...they don't like
Vince McMahon...and especially now, more than ever, they don't like YOU!" He
stopped, gauging the crowd's ballistic reaction before deciding to continue.
"You had no business interfering in my match last night, dude, and as far as
I'm concerned...payback's a bitch!" He shouted, slamming the microphone to
the canvas in resentment. Before anything could come of the tense situation,
however, cooler heads prevailed in the form of Stephanie McMahon.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Cool it, you two!" She exclaimed, stepping between us
and pushing back against our chests. "Now there's a time, and a place, for
everything...and fortunately for you, Mr. America, that time & place is
here...tonight!" She exclaimed, gathering a loud pop of agreement from the
fans. He backed away and looked all about the seats filled with asses,
drawing in their emotion and energy from the last announcement. "Yeah,
that's right. Tonight, Mr. America WILL, in fact, get his measure of
revenge on you Violent J...but not in any ordinary match. You two will
compete on SmackDown! tonight in a 6-man elimination tag-team match...no
disqualification, and no count-out format." She answered slyly.

"Yeah...so what?" I asked, playing into the fact I wasn't supposed to know
who my opponents were. A `fuck-you' smile came across her face before she
continued to address the situation.

"Well, well, well...you seem pretty confident, considering the fact you have
no teammates." She announced, causing a certifiable uproar to overtake the
arena. "Not to mention the opponents you'll be facing...Kurt Angle, & Brock
Lesnar!" She exclaimed in suspense, further causing the fans to go wild. I
immediately lunged forward to strike Hogan, but he took me down with a
straight right hand to the jaw. Before he could continue the assault I rolled
out of the ring, following the crowds chorus of boos up the ramp and towards
the backstage area.

"If you only knew..." I trailed off, stepping through the entrance curtain as
the two faces celebrated exclusively in the ring...

* * *
..."OK Josh...what's this I hear about a match?" Nick exclaimed as we stepped
out into the parking lot area and towards his sweet ass ride to catch another
buzz. "Why was I not informed of this sooner?"

"I'm sorry dawg...I forgot. Plus, I figured with your injuries n' shit that
the last thing you needed, let alone wanted, was in-ring competition." I
answered as he unlocked the driver's side door. It would've been a whole lot
easier, not to mention convenient, for us to bring the weed inside with us,
but we're idiots, so what're ya' gonna' do?

"Yeah...fuck that. You know I'm down...but who are we gonna' get to partner
up with?" He asked, stroking his chin in deep thought.

"I thought you said you couldn't wrestle." I mentioned, pointing at the cast
on his right wrist and hand.

"Man...if you think some pussy shit like a broken hand is gonna' keep me from
wrestling, then you're a complete dumbass." He remarked annoyingly. I quickly
joined him in deep thought, but didn't have to for long as I saw a dark red
Mercedes Benz squeal harshly into the parking garage, blaring some old-school
2-Pac. The door opened and out stepped John Cena, the WWE's resident
thug-rapper/Eminem-wannabe. I never really had a problem with the guy,
parse...I mean, afterall, it was because of his interference that we were
employed. I watched as he popped the trunk of his ride and grabbed his bag
before slamming it shut and beginning to slowly strut towards the entrance.

"Hey Cena...what up dawg?" I asked slowly as an idea popped into my head. I
outstretched my right hand and he slapped it, doing the same to Nick.

"Not much...wassup witchu'?" He asked.

"Same here...just chillin' before our big match." I replied.

"Hey, mad props on you're win last night, ya'll. Straight up, that shit was
dope." He replied, slapping Nick another high-five.

"Thanks, man...how was your night last night?" He asked, nonchalantly.

"It sucked! I got stomped by Brock Lesnar...lost my match for the fuckin'
title! That shit's whack!" He replied angrily.

"Oh really...well it just so happens that Nick and I have a little match
tonight against Brock Lesnar...not to mention Kurt Angle and Mr. America,
but we were wondering if maybe you wanted to be our tag team partner. We
can help you get revenge on Lesnar, but that's only if you're down for the
fight of your fuckin' life." I said, holding out my fist.

"Interested in a little some-some of that, homie?" Nick chimed in.

"You better believe it! Hell yeah I'll fucks witcha!" He exclaimed, pounding
his chest and then slamming his fist onto mine.

"And...that's a good thing?" I asked slowly.

"Yeah...that's a `yes.'" He answered jokingly.

"Good...then we'll fuck's with each other. Come smoke a blunt with us and
we'll make this thing official." I said, motioning for him to walk in first.

"By the way...tell Sable thanks." He said, turning around.

"For what?" I asked.

"For convincing me to interfere in ya'lls match wit' Brock a couple weeks
ago. Best damn decision I EVER made!" He exclaimed, chuckling lightly to
himself. Nick pulled out another blunt of his fire weed and we all converged
into a locker room to proceed to get smoked out. Upon our entrance, however,
we were quickly meet by Sable. She sat perched in a chair, drinking a glass
of wine and clad in a black velvet robe.

"It's nice of you 3 to `drop by.'" She purred, setting down her glass on the
table to her right. "So I take it this is your team for tonight's main-event?
Looks like it's shaping up to be quite a match." She said softly, slowly
sitting forward and onto her feet.

"But...how do *you* know about the match, Sable? I only found out today,
Nick's only known about it for about 10 minutes, and he just now agreed to
be in." I exclaimed, pointing towards Cena. 

"Why, Mr. McMahon of course...he told me to see you immediately upon your
arrival to the arena in order to discuss potential teammates, but I can see
you've already made a more than wise decision."

"Wait a minute, hold-up...ya'll are workin' for McMahon? Ya'll are down
with Vinnie Mac? Yo' dawg, hook me up wit soma' dat shit, for real." Cena
explained. Sable slinked over towards him and got up in his face, pressing
her small, delicate hands against the pectoral muscles underneath his
wife-beater.

"So...you wanna' be *down* with Vince McMahon? You wanna' join up with High
Time, the world's most dominant tag-team ever assembled, to correct the
injustice brought about by months of manual labor for no respect? Do you
have what it takes...do you have `ruthless aggression?'" She asked, kissing
along the nape of his neck. Nick and I, along with Cena, stood there
absolutely speechless.

"You God damn right I got what it takes...I'm the way of the future! You
can't see me...I'm John Cena, son...word-life!" He exclaimed.

"What about you, `Chief?' I know Josh is in...but I never got your input last
night. What do you make of the situation?" She asked, rubbing herself up
against his leg. Nick lit up his blunt and took in a decent-sized hit, slowly
exhaling his smoke in deep concentration.

"You better fuckin' believe I'm in...it's High Time, or no time,
motherfucker!" He exclaimed, passing the blunt to yours truly.

"OK then, so were all in agreement. We work for Vince McMahon now...that
means we don't care what the fans think, we don't follow the rules, and most
important of all...we show no mercy." She exclaimed slowly, standing inside
the triangle we formed around her. She put her hand into the air and the rest
of us did the same, holding them together to symbolize our unity as a faction
before breaking slowly. "Good...then there's only one more thing left to do
for this decision to be final." She sighed, untying the knot in her robe and
throwing it back behind her and to the floor. There she stood in all her
curvaceous glory, nipples erect and pointing. "I want you three to take me."
She replied, out of the blue.

"You mean...right now...at the same time?" I asked slowly. She grabbed me
by the hand and led me towards the couch, grabbing the fly of my jeans and
slowly puling down the zipper before grabbing me by the waist and yanking
them down to the floor. I stepped out of them and exposed my enflamed boner
after Sable quickly pulled off my boxers.

"Come on everyone...there's no need to be shy." She said, waving Nick and
John Cena over towards this impromptu orgy. They both slowly pulled down
their pants and boxers as well, revealing their raging hard-ons to her gaze.
She simply smiled. "I didn't even have to ask, huh?" She grabbed onto both
of their pricks and wrapped her fingers around their base, proceeding to
jack them off slowly. "Mmmm...you both like that?" She taunted them.

"Shitū" Cena uttered softly.

"Yeah..." Came Nick's reply. She knelt down on the floor and, without using
her hands, wrapped her beautiful mouth around my cock head in agreement.
She pulled her head back and popped it from her mouth before flicking the
pisshole with her tongue.

"I absolutely love it. All this cock just waiting to be disposed of...God
I'm such a slut." She said to herself before diving back down on my pleasure
stick. She engulfed the entire shaft in one head thrust forward, shoving her
nose up against my pubic hair as she continued to whack off my comrades.
After a couple of up-and-down bobs of her head she pulled back, repeating
the same process to first Nick, and then John Cena; slobbering recklessly on
the thick dicks in front of her face. Cena's was the smallest of the bunch,
but that's only when being compared to us. Trails of spit and pre-cum
connected our cocks to her lips as she continued to simultaneously stroke us
off, her mouth finding a ball sack or two to quench on as the overwhelming
sensation of lust came over her entire body. After tiring of this she began
to alternately spit on our shafts and lube them up with the repeated pumps
from her tightening fists.

"Mmmm...I can't wait 'till you guys blow. All that thick, juicy, salty cum
down my throat...on my face..." She trailed off, sucking my cock head.

"Oh fuck...you're so good to me Sable." I exclaimed, patting her on the top
of the head. This whole situation was still blowing my mind away, not to
mention the sound of her talking dirty. 

"You guys never thought I'd be such a cum-slut, huh? Oh yeah...it's all I
ever think about."

*Spit*

"Especially when I watch you guys wrestle."

*Spit*

"I can't get enough of it. I just love the feel of it."

*Spit*

"Cum in my mouth..."

*Spit*

"Cum in my ass..."

*Spit*

"Mmmm...the thought is sooo inviting." She moaned, licking up each cock shaft
to the very tip. Each cock was now drenched in her warm saliva, some of which
had even started oozing down our 6 balls. "I can't wait to feel your warm,
hot cum against my skin. Oh God...someone please fuck me now!" She exclaimed,
sliding back and onto the leather couch positioned against the back wall. She
dropped down onto her back and spread her legs so far apart it looked as
though she was trying to fuck the whole room as John Cena dropped down and
positioned himself between her legs, grabbing his cock-stalk by the base and
sliding down deep into her twat with one swift motion.

"Shit!" He exclaimed as he bottomed out as far as he was allowed. He put his
hands out at her sides and pointed his toes, slowly building up a rhythm of
push-up like thrusts before starting to pound away in submission; slapping
his balls off her pointed gluts and pussy lips with each lunge of his hips.

"Oh God yes..." She moaned. Cena looked down at his belly as he continued
to pummel her swollen opening and saw that he was getting all soaked in her
juices, so hw allowed down for a quick second to maintain his balance before
resuming his rapid drops and levitations in and out of her sopping cunt. It
looked as thought the feeling of Sable's thighs all over his hips and balls
was driving him crazy. Sable looked up at me as I stroked myself to maintain
erection, smiling like she had apparently forgotten about the rest of us.

"C'mere J." She said, instructing me with her hand to kneel down next to her
head. She hungrily took my cock down her throat once again, slurping and
contracting her throat around my shaft as I slowly started fucking her face,
using a style similar to Cena's as I humped in and out of her mouth as she
lay on her side; twisting her body to accompany both our desires. I looked
over at John as his movements began to lose velocity, reaching his hands up
her body and grabbing the flesh of her breasts and holding on for support as
he tried so desperately to continue slamming her. Sable moaned louder and
louder around my cock, the vibrations of her throat muscles milking
everything I was worth. Cena slammed harder and harder, ramming her with
such determination that her whole body started swaying back and forth with
every thrust. He stopped very suddenly once again thrust in as deep as it
would allow once again, feeling a squeeze in his balls as he began to shoot
his nut deep into her belly.

"Oh fuck yeah!" The former wife of Marc Mero wailed. "Oh god, ram your
cock in me...oh shit, fill me up with you cum...God I fuckin' love it!"
She continued, her body shaking and twitching as the muscles in her body
tightened up; succumbing to her first orgasm. Cena finished up and slid
out of her with a slick pop, falling back onto the floor and lying there
to regain his breath. Sable reveled in the thought of her drilling, but
was instantly brought back into reality as I slapped her upside the face
with my cock. She rolled over onto her hands and knees and was about to
take me back into her mouth, but she turned her head the other way and
eyed Nick standing by himself; chiefing the phat blunt from before down
to nothing more but a roach. Nick was the biggest of the triple threat
onslaught of cock, and it looked as though Sable wanted to take her
chance at sucking him.

"Sorry Chief...I forgot all about you there, didn't I?" She asked lustfully.

"It appears as though you did." He answered, flicking his blunt roach down
to the floor. "What do you propose we do about that?" He asked sarcastically.

"Come here and let's find out." She answered, pushing me gently out of the
way. She wrapped her lips eagerly around Nick's bulbous cock head and started
to deep-throat him as I positioned myself behind her, sliding my still hard
cock up her cunt from the doggy-style position. She lurched forward with the
strength of my thrusts, throwing her mouth down harder against Nick's cock as
it glided out of her throat with incredible ease. "Fuck me harder", she
muffled on Nick`s cock, and I quickly obliged, rearing back and slamming my
hips forward with more velocity each time. I just loved the sight of her ass
sticking straight up into the air; watching the wonderful flesh ripple and
shake as I slammed it to her.

"Oh god, fuck me with your cock", she moaned, taking her mouth of Nick's cock
to spit off random gibberish. "You're both too much...Oh, I've never had so
much in my life...oh fuck! Mmmm...you're tearing me apart!" She continued,
egging me on. Normally I would have despised taking `sloppy seconds', but the
sounds of her dirty talk were enough to drive me over the edge as I painted
the walls of her snatch with rope after rope after rope of my thick, juicy
cum. My mouth hung open, but no sound could escape as I emptied my balls for
the first time into her cunt...and the feeling was like no other. My legs
gave out under my weight and I fell back against the corner of the couch,
pulling out another blunt from behind my ear and lighting it up with some
matches on the nearby end table. Sable clamped onto Nick's balls with her
right hand before continuing to deep throat him in several slow, fluid
motions that coated his flesh rocket with enough saliva and pre-cum to form
a sufficient lubricant for what would come next.

"You gonna' shove this thing in my asshole now, or what?" She asked, munching
slightly on his balls. "You gonna' fuck my sopping wet asshole...tear me open
so wide I can't sit down for a month?" She asked. I could tell he was kind of
taken back by her question, but he nodded his head in approval. She was
obviously lost in the moment of lust, not thinking too coherently before
speaking.

"Fuck yeah, bitch", Nick moaned as she rotated around in a complete circle,
shoving her near-perfect ass up towards his crotch. Nick grabbed her ass and
parted both cheeks, exposing the puckered hole and immediately slid himself
waist deep inside her poop chute. He grabbed onto her shoulders for leverage,
feeling his cock slide right into Sable's tight asshole with little, then no
resistance. He started off slow, but immediately kicked it up a notch and
began pumping away a her sucking hole like a man possessed. With each pump
of his hips it shoved her forward, burying her face against the arm rest of
the couch as he slid from within her with more tenacity.

"Ooooh! Fuck! I love your big cock in my asshole! Oh god...yeah, fuck me in
the ass like the slut I really am...oh yeah! Fuck me, fuck me..." She trailed
off, burying her face in the couch cushions as Nick continued to ream her
anus. He grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled back on her hard. She let out
a high pitched moan and it wasn't long before she started to reach another
orgasm, working her little fingers all over her clit as she began shaking and
moaning incessantly. Sable simply exploded as Nick continued to apply
pressure to her colon, her juices spraying out and onto his balls and thighs.
The muscles in her body once again tightened up, squeezing the veins in
Nick's shaft. It was all too much for him to handle at one time and without
warning he began to tense up, shooting his balls content deep into her
vacuum-like sphincter. He pulled out with a disgusting squish-like noise
before falling back and onto his ass against the concrete floor.

"God damn...there's now way!" He exclaimed, disappointed he hadn't lasted as
long as he'd hoped. Several minutes passed as we cleaned up and got dressed,
and somewhere in that span of time Nick lit up another blunt that we all
passed around.

"So, I take it you 3 have no complaints?" She asked presumptuously.

"None." We all said in unison.

"Good...because tonight, gentlemen, is the beginning of the rest of your
lives. Tonight isn't just for myself, or even Vince McMahon...it's for
yourselves, too. Make the best of it...or it will haunt you for the rest
of your existence." She said, sliding her robe back on and re-tying the
sash around her waist. "I'll see you guys, later." She said, opening the
door and stepping out into the hallway. "And whatever you do...don't
disappoint me."

* * *

"Ladies & gentlemen...the following contest is a no disqualification,
no-count, out 6 man-elimination tag-team match! Introducing first from
Hollywood, California...weighing in at 275lbs...Mr. America!" Came the
voice of the resident SmackDown! ring announcer. Hulk Hogan stepped
through the sparkling entrance curtain for the 2nd time that night,
wasting no time in high-tailing it towards the ring. He rolled in
through the bottom rope and started frantically waving his arms about
his ears in the classic `I-can't-hear-you' pose before confetti shot
off from above the ring, raining down on the vivacious crowd as he
continued to pose and flex; the usual Hogan routine.

"And his partner...from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania...weighing in at
230lbs..."The True American Hero" Kurt Angle!" He shouted once again.
Kurt stepped through the curtain and stood prominently at the top of
the ramp, doubling over in anxiousness before springing back forcefully
to a vertical base, throwing his arms into the air as his red, white, &
blue pyro shot off loudly behind him. He rolled his neck and shrugged
his shoulders before walking steadily down to the ring, jumping up to
the apron and practically rolling inside through the 1st and 2nd ropes,
removing his gold medals and twirling around uncontrollably like the
Shawn Michaels of old before handing his precious possession to the
referee.

"And their partner...from Minneapolis, Minnesota...weighing in at 295lbs,
he is the current WWE Heavyweight Champion...Brock Lesnar!" Came the voice
for a 3rd time. Brock walked through the curtain slowly, stopping at the
head of the ramp to jog in place before throwing his arms back in
preparation. He stepped lightly down the ramp and stood at the apron,
jogging in place once again before jumping up onto the apron; coinciding
with the pyro that shot off from all 4 corner posts. He, too, stepped
eagerly through the ropes and stood with his team, unhooking the
gold-plated strap from around his waist and handing it to the official
before continuing to jog in place.

"And their opponents..." The voice trailed off as I appeared at the head
of the stage. I took the microphone from out of my pocket and put it up
towards my mouth to get something off my chest.

"Ahhhh...so it all comes down to this? Man...I've really got the deck
stacked against me, huh? Stephanie McMahon sure pulled a fast one on me...
or so it seems. I mean, the options I had in regards to my partners was
slim...but I think I made the right decisions. So get ready, Hogan, because
it's time to bring the pain...and if you're not ready, then I guess it sucks
to be you." I exclaimed, tossing the mic aimlessly to the concrete floor
below.

* * *

"So, you think you're untouchable...Word Life!" Came John Cena's beat as
he stepped out through the curtain. He had on a North Carolina Tar Heels
basketball jersey with a matching backwards hat, sagging his Tommy Hilfiger
jean shorts well past his knees with another microphone in hand. He stopped
in front of me and ordered for his music to be cut before spitting his
pre-match freestyle.

"Yo, yo...check this out: I be that Dr. Thugganomics, slammin' ho's on they
back...got you scaredy cats runnin' like ya'll was playin' `Mouse Trap.' I'm
a living, future legend, as if there was any doubt...and I promise I won't
go down like I did in yo mom's mouth. Ya'll bitches would've never guessed
I'd be teamin' with Violent J...but after Judgment Day, Brock knows he's
gotta' pay! I've been cheated once before, like an infraction of the rules...
if ya'll don't wanna' like me you can juggle my family jewels. `Cause my
words are like a drug that keeps people on they feet...just like our 3rd
team member, ya'll can call me `Big Chief.'" He trailed off, throwing his
arms up and slamming them together by the thumbs while pointing his pinky
fingers. I motioned back towards the entrance, ala Scott Hall, as Nick
stepped through and onto the stage behind us. The crowd went absolutely wild
with his much anticipated, yet unplanned, return; cheering him wildly as
though he was still a fan favorite as we stormed down the aisle with a
purpose. Cena threw his hat down to the floor and pulled his jersey over his
head as we climbed inside the squared-circle, standing on the apron in our
corner with Nick as I stood my ground in the middle of the ring.

DING! DING! DING!

Nick continued to taunt the crowd into a frenzied standing ovation as Kurt
Angle and I encircled each other, lunging forward and locking arms in a
collar-and-elbow tie-up. We each pushed forward with everything we had;
buckling our knees and planting our feet firmly into the mat for leverage
as we competed in a high-impact test of strength. I eventually backed Kurt
into the lower left hand corner, stepping away upon the referee's command
before throwing a right hand towards his face. He ducked and I fell into
the turnbuckle pad chest first, turning around and directly into a vicious
snap-like jab from Kurt's right hand. He continued to wail away at my face
with repeated shots until I eventually slumped down into the 2nd turnbuckle
pad, grabbing me by the hair and pulling back towards the ring center. He
hooked my arms around his and attempted to throw me over his head in a
belly-to-belly suplex but I reversed it in mid-move and caught him with an
elbow to the jaw, hooking his arm around my head before dropping him with
a belly-to-*back* suplex. I crawled over towards his fallen frame and hooked
him in a tight front-face lock, using my forearms to deliver several clubbing
blows to his back and kidney-area. 

He used all the strength he had left to stand up, hoisting me up and over
his head in a northern-lights suplex, going for the win until I lifted my
right shoulder off the mat before a count of 1. We stood up at the same
time and rushed forward at one another, him ducking an attempted clothesline
and bouncing off the ropes behind me as I ran forward and off the opposite
side ropes, directly into a Kitchen-sink (knee to the gut) with such momentum
I flipped over his leg upon impact. While down he proceeded to put the boots
to my chest and side, hauling me up to my feet and nailing me in the right
cheek with a punch that sent me reeling back into his teams corner. He bent
forward and buried his left shoulder into my abdomen twice before making the
tag to Brock Lesnar, holding me at bay for the former NCAA Wrestling Champion
to pick me apart unchallenged. He Irish-whipped me out of the corner and
against the far-side ropes, leaning forward to deliver a back body drop but
instead receiving a soccer kick to the face, followed by a sledgehammer-like
clothesline to the pectoral region that sounded throughout the arena; a
fleshy-smack coinciding with the crashing noise as our bodies fell aimlessly
to the canvas. I immediately pounced on him as he lie in shock, repeatedly
slugging him in the forehead with several direct knuckle shots from my right
hand.

I stood up and pulled Brock with me, slamming him face first into the top
turnbuckle pad before crossing his arms together around it and tagging in
John Cena. I stepped onto the apron and held his arms intertwined by his
wrists with my hands as Cena reared back, slamming his entire arm against
Brock's spine with repeated forearm smashes; the impact from each clubbing
blow forcing his face back into the turnbuckle pad. I then let go of his
wrists and threw his head back into a Russian Leg Sweep from Cena that
slammed him down hard on the back of his neck, leaving him prone for several
stomps to the chest and side as a follow-up. Cena grabbed Lesnar by the neck
and hoisted him to a grappling position, throwing him off the ropes and
connecting with a hard powerslam, going for the pin before Mr. America came
in to make the same. Cena grabbed Lesnar by the neck once again and threw
him over into our corner, extending his arm out as Nick made the tag and
stepped into the ring, drawing in the vibrant cheers from the crowd as he
made his 1st appearance into the match. He gave Brock a couple of jabs to
the side of the head before Irish-whipping him across the ring and into the
far-side ropes, jumping up in an attempted Harlem Sidekick and landing
directly into Lesnar's arms before succumbing to a powerbomb with such
velocity that it doubled him over upon impact.

Brock stumbled back into his corner and tagged in Angle once again as he
wasted no time in dishing out the right hands to The Chief's jaw, backing
him into the corner and attempting an Irish-whip. Nick reversed it and went
for a clothesline, but Angle ducked and went behind, clamping his arms
around Nick's waist and throwing him back in a German suplex. He didn't let
go and stood up, throwing Nick back on his head in a 2nd German before
repeating this process once more, releasing the clasp of his hands and
jumping up to his feet as Nick lie in the center of the ring. Cena ran into
the ring and received a clothesline for his troubles, as did I, allowing
Brock and Hogan into the fray as all hell broke loose. Hogan grabbed me by
the hair as Brock did the same to Cena, both rearing back before slamming
our heads together in the infamous double-noggin-knocker that sent us both
to the outside of the ring as they both followed in pursuit. Hogan jogged
towards me as I sat back against the announce table, attempting to drive
his knee into my midsection before I moved out of the way, clamping my feet
around his right ankle and drop-toe-holding him face first into the edge of
the table. I grabbed him by the mask and threw him as hard as I could into
the steel post, clotheslining him down to the thinly-padded floor as he
bounced back.

Meanwhile, over on the other side of the ring, Cena wasn't fairing too well
against Brock, as Lesnar whipped him shoulder 1st into the steel steps,
knocking them loose from their base upon . Kurt Angle locked Nick in a
belly-to-back suplex and threw him up into the air as Nick flipped back
over onto his feet, shoving him directly into my oncoming big boot as I
climbed back inside the ring, wielding a steel chair. Nick ran forward and
kicked Brock in the back of the head in a baseball slide through the bottom
rope, sending him forward into the security barrier. I tossed the chair
outside and into Cena' awaiting hands, who reared back and slammed the
object as hard as he could against Brock's kidney area. Lesnar turned
around involuntarily and directly into a baseball-bat-like swing to the
forehead, dropping him down to his knees instantly as well as busting him
open. Cena hoisted his sluggish form up onto his shoulders and held him in
the F-U position, looking out towards the crowd before throwing him up and
over onto the base layer of the steel steps back first. Brock's body landed
with a sickening thud, laying him out instantly as Cena went for the
immediate cover.

1...2...3!

Kurt Angle suplexed Nick, then gave the Angle Slam to myself, hopping up to
his feet and immediately getting in the officials face. Brock Lesnar wasn't
the legal man, but as we all know the referee's decision is final...so there
wasn't a damn thing he could've done about it.

"Fuck!" yelled an extremely pissed Angle, ducking an oncoming attack from
John Cena and instead clotheslining him over the top rope and to the outside.
He landed directly opposite Hulk Hogan as the living icon rolled back into
the ring, giving the American Hero an overhead double high-five before the
two comrades immediately started to `Hulk-up' before our very eyes.

"You!" They both shouted in unison, thrusting their index fingers towards
us in an accusing pose. For some reason we both stood to our feet, rushing
towards the 3-stripe connection as they both simultaneously ducked our
attack. Hogan nailed me unexpectedly with a right hand as Angle tripped
Nick with a drop toe-hold, latching on the Ankle lock as Hogan batted away
at the side of my head. He backed me against the ropes and Irish-whipped
me to the far side, dropping me with a hard big boot to the face before
motioning towards the deafening crowd as to what was coming next. But before
anything could come of the situation, John Cena re-appeared with a steel
chair once again, smashing the top of it against the top of Kurt Angle's
head, breaking up the Ankle lock that Nick had been in for some time now.
He then turned to go after Hogan, but received a big boot that knocked
the chair back into his face and sent him crashing to the mat in a position
directly next to me. Hogan clapped his hands twice before bouncing off the
near side ropes and dropping the big leg across the throat of John Cena,
missing me by mere inches as I rolled out of the way.

1...2...3!

John Cena had been eliminated, but once again he wasn't the legal man. I
guess the referee had all but abandoned order, meaning that anything could
happen and he didn't care as long as we hashed out our differences. Hogan
knelt up to his feet and blocked a right hand, giving me one of his own
before running forward and clotheslining me. He ran with such force that
he pressed up against the ropes, never even noticing that Nick had came up
from behind and cracked a steel chair across the back of his head with such
velocity that it flipped him over the ropes and to the outside floor. Kurt
Angle was trying desperately to stand up, bleeding profusely from the top
of the head and using the ropes for support to face us. We walked towards
the American Hero and he threw a right cross that hit me in the jaw,
throwing his arm forward and nailing Nick in the jaw with an elbow. He
continued throwing punches, trying desperately to maintain some offense
before succumbing to a knee to the gut by yours truly.

We attempted a double Irish-whip, going for a double clothesline at the same
time that Angle ducked. He used all the strength he had to push Nick forward
into the ring post, shoulder first, before ducking another one of my attacks
and utilizing the Angle Slam. I landed hard on the back of my head, seeing
stars as he lowered the shoulder straps of his singlet and dropped to his
knees, synching in the devastating Ankle lock once again. Nick was back to a
vertical base, but Angle was ready for it as he released the hold on me and
instead dropped Nick with a leg trip into the Ankle lock once again. I came
up from behind Angle and kicked him in the balls, thrusting his left arm
through his own legs and hoisting him up in a Pumphandle drop, using his own
legs for momentum as I flipped him forward and dropped him down face first in
a DDT across the steel chair; using my own creation, The Violator, to it's
peak advantage. I rolled the unconscious Angle onto his back and hooked the
far-side leg, laying across his chest with all my weight and going for the
elimination.

1...2...3!

And then there was one, as the near unconscious Hogan rolled lifelessly
back into the ring. As he slowly got to his feet, I picked him up in a
Spine-buster and threw him up into the air, dropping down into Nick's
awaiting Stunner as we connected with our version of the 3-D. I took the
chair and pressed it up against his masked face, holding it down with my
foot as Nick graciously climbed up the turnbuckle, standing perched on
the top rope and taunting towards the crowd before leaping forward and
connecting with a perfect guillotine leg drop directly across the steel.
Hogan's body flopped around like a dead fish, then stopped suddenly as
we both went for the immediate double cover.

1...2...3!

DING! DING! DING!

"Here are your winners and sole survivors...High Time!" Came the announcement
from outside the ring. We both taunted the crowd as we re-grouped, basking in
the cheers and jeers from those very fans, when all of a sudden...

* * *

..."No Chance, that's what you've got!" Blared Mr. McMahon's theme song from
the speakers. He stepped out onto the stage, arm-in-arm with Sable, and the
2 slowly walked down the aisle and stepped into the ring. This was the 1st
time we had seen Vince since our arrangement with Sable, and she let us know
we were well-appreciated as she gave us a double hug. Meanwhile, Vince
motioned for a microphone, and immediately started to address the crowd of
this oncoming situation.

"Good evening, ladies & gentlemen, and welcome to SmackDown!. As you all
know, I'm Vince McMahon...this is Sable...and this is High Time; my 2 newest
prospects here in the WWE. But what all you morons fail to realize is that
High Time now officially, works for me!" He declared boldly, drawing a very
poor response from the crowd. "That's right...their services are in regards
to yours truly from now on, and I promise that from now on the WWE will never
be the same as long as WE are in control!" Vince exclaimed. "But 1st...I want
you 2 to do me a little favor. You see that man lying there at your feet?"
He motioned, pointing down at the fallen Hogan. "Do the right thing, and TAKE
OFF THAT DAMN MASK, so I can prove to all you people once and for all who he
REALLY is!" He exclaimed in his red-faced, psychotic voice. Nick and I each
grabbed Hogan by an arm and lifted him up to his knees, holding him prone for
Vince to slap him around a little. We both made an upward motion with our
arms, signaling for Vince to do the deed himself. He grabbed Hogan by the
chin and squeezed his lips, talking shit to Hogan before slapping him once
again and ripping his blue-and-white-starred mask up and off his head,
exposing Hulk Hogan for who he truly is to the disappointed crowd. We dropped
his sluggish form back to the mat as Vince uttered his classic catch-phrase.

"Well, Hogan...now that we KNOW it's you under the mask...I guess there's
only one thing left to say: Hollywood Hulk Hogan...YOU'RE FIRED!" He
exclaimed, chuckling under his breath.

* * *

..."I'm all grown up, Now!" Came Stephanie's music as it blared through the
speakers. She slowly walked down the ramp and up the steps, stepping into
the ring to face us. "Josh...Nick, what are you guys doing? I thought we had
a deal? How can you trust my father?! He's nothing more than a maniacal,
egotistical, self-indulged piece of crap...and all he cares about is using
you guys until your welcome has worn out!" She exclaimed, almost near tears.
"I took you 2 in when you didn't have a job...I MADE you what you are
today...please don't do this!" She pleaded, dropping down to her knees and
continuing to plead with us.

"You seem to be very comfortable in that position, don't ya' Steph?" Came a
voice from backstage. All of a sudden, to even OUR surprise, Eric Bischoff
stepped through the curtain and walked down the aisle, gloating in the fact
that the time had come as he carried a briefcase at his side. He grabbed a
microphone and stepped inside the ring, walking towards Vince and stepping
up into his face. "Hiya' Vince...how are you doing tonight? Good I hope...
well, for now at least. Ya' see, I heard from a little birdie that Vince
McMahon wants to get rid of Stephanie McMahon...by any means necessary, is
that correct?" He asked, nonchalantly.

"Well, yes Eric...but what do you have anything to do with that?" Asked a
surprised Vince. He looked over at us and glared, but we both insisted we
had not a clue as to what was happening.

"Well, Vince, I surely hope that when you said `any means necessary', you
truly meant it...because I've got a pretty incriminating piece of video tape
that just might change your mind." He declared. Stephanie's eyes widened as
she looked up at me, starting to realize what was going on. "So, if you guys
in the back are ready, let's expose Stephanie McMahon for the true slut that
she is!" He exclaimed, bending down into her face. We all stared in shock as
a video feed was sent to the titan-tron, looking in horror as Stephanie stood
in the middle of a room with 2 men whose faces were blurred out. The 1st clip
showed her stripping for the 2 men, then the 2nd clip showed her pleasing
them orally. The 3rd and final clip showed her getting it fucked in both the
ass and the pussy, slowly unveiling the faces of the 2 men to be, none other,
than High Time themselves. Vince stood with his jaw dropped open, lunging
forward to attack Eric Bischoff before we both came to his aid by flooring
McMahon with a double clothesline.

Sable quickly turned her head away from us and leant down to check up on
Vince as Eric stood poised in the ring, raising our arms up into the air,
forcing Stephanie to roll out of the ring and run up the entrance ramp in
extreme embarrassment; clutching her face in her hands the entire way to
the backstage area. Eric grabbed the microphone he had dropped upon instinct
and once again raised it to his lips.

"Yeah...that's right. High Time was seduced by Stephanie McMahon...in order
to get their jobs on SmackDown!. But, what you people didn't know, until
know, is that High Time had jobs all along! High Time works for me...they
are exclusive property to the RAW brand! They always have been...and they
always will be." He exclaimed, opening the briefcase that enclosed 2 signed
contracts belonging to us. "This was all part of a heavily orchestrated plan,
by yours truly, to get what I've wanted for the longest time: The respect I
deserve as General Manager. So therefore, screw SmackDown!, screw you Vince
McMahon...and most importantly, screw all of you!" He exclaimed, stepping
through the ropes and dropping to the floor. We followed in pursuit to the
backstage area, both a little unnerved by what had just taken place.
"Tonight, gentlemen, is the night everything changed. You 2 are a part of
history in the making...just don't let the success go to your head." He
explained to us as we walked to the parking garage.

We both went to climb in our respected cars, but Bischoff stopped us
suddenly.

"Guys...your limo's right over here." He said annoyingly, pointing to the
right side of the arena.

"But...what about our cars?" I asked uneasily.

"Guys...you ride in style from now on! I'll have your cars sent to the hotel
you'll be staying at tonight. Come with me...and enjoy the rest of your lives
at my expense." He explained, opening the door for us to climb in. This was
all happening so fast, but we had no idea just how fast everything else would
change...for the worst, mind you.

THE END

This is the end of Part 3. Send all your comments to: shady_the_kid@yahoo.com