Hiya! I'm back with a new story. I just encountered major blockage with World Wrestling Entertainment Presents…, so sorry for those of you that liked it, but I won't be continuing that one.
So here we have my new fic, once again centred around Elli Craven and Kitten and featuring the usual suspects: John Cena, Randy Orton, Matt Hardy, Jeff Hardy, Edge, Ken Kennedy, Chris Jericho, Mickie James, Ashley, Candice Michelle, Torrie Wilson and many, many more. This first chapter was written before Survivor Series and Chris Jericho's return, so if things are different, that's not my fault; it's the WWE's fault for not playing along with my delusional world.
The inspiration for this came from a web comic I stumbled across, www dot marrymemovie dot com. Check it out. It's awesome.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise. I don't even own the plot. All I own is this laptop and a vivid imagination.
Enjoy!
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It's been four months. Four months is a long time. It's especially long in this business, where feuds and alliances are made and broken within the space of a heartbeat and you can go from jobber to main-eventer and back again between one pay-per-view and the next.
It's been torture, watching from the sidelines, watching as the company has moved forward and feeling like I've been left behind. It shouldn't matter – I'm back now – but it does. I feel like I've been forgotten in favour of other, older Superstars, and I don't like it. I don't like it one bit. It's time to make damn sure that nobody ever forgets me. I feel... reckless. Time to do something that will be talked about for years to come. It's time to do something stupid. ---
"OH YEAHHH!" I sang along to Matt Hardy's entrance theme at the top of my lungs, accompanied by his trademark 'V1' salute. Kit and I were heading to the Survivor Series Pay-Per-View event in Miami that evening and, as this was to be my first ever WWE live event, I was more than a little excited.
Kit and I had been best friends for years, and were so close that we had claimed each other as sisters a long time ago. We had moved to Florida, me from London and her from Ohio, a couple of years ago in search of a new life and were loving every minute of it. We were both passionate about wrestling and had forced our way into the local indy scene within about five minutes of landing in Orlando. We spent most of our free time training at FXE Pro Wrestling Academy and then demonstrating what we had learned at various cramped, smelly venues scattered around the dodgier areas of town. We topped up the meagre money we got from that with jobs in a local record store and often dreamed about making it big in the wrestling world.
We had been given ringside tickets to Survivor Series as a reward from our trainer, AJ, for winning all of our matches in the last month. It wasn't all pleasure though – we were also supposed to be meeting Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley after the show to talk about how the shows were put together for TV, as AJ was looking to push his promotion as far as possible. Kit was especially excited about this meeting, as she adored Steph, and there was also a good chance that Steph's husband Hunter, known to the wider world as Triple H, would also be there. We'd met Hunter and his partner in crime, Shawn Michaels – Kit's personal wrestling god – a couple of times as they'd hosted some workshops at FXE. Shawn had been particularly taken with Kit, excited to find that he had a 'super fan', and he occasionally emailed her to check on her progress.
I grinned as I looked at myself in the mirror – a pair of flared black pants with pink pinstripes and a fitted pink mesh shirt over a black crop top showed off my hard-worked-for athletic physique to perfection. My hair was shoulder-length, dyed black with pink highlights, and I sang loudly as I prepared to beat it into submission with my straighteners.
"Oi!" I ducked just in time as a hairbrush was launched at my head. "Do you mind? My ears are bleeding," Kit grumbled as she wandered through from her room. She looked stunning in skin-tight, hunter green vinyl pants and a black cropped DX shirt, her long brown hair loose but brushed back from her face.
"It's only AFI," I protested.
"I stand by what I said," she retorted with a grin. I stuck my tongue out at her and returned to the task in hand.
"Anyway, I'm just excited," I continued as I concentrated on my hair. "We'll be ring-side. I'll be close enough to grope Matt Hardy."
"Yeah, but on the downside you'll be close enough to Masters to get sucked into his ass," she replied with a shudder. "I swear if that thing comes anywhere near me I'm going to grab the person next to me, throw them at it and run and hope it doesn't eat me." I giggled; Kit and I had a theory that Chris Masters' backside was an entity in its own right and had its own gravitational pull; it moved even when he was standing still, and generated an aura of menacing evil.
"I don't think they'd be happy with that plan," I pointed out.
"Rather them than me, I'm not taking any chances!" Kit said, folding her arms stubbornly.
"Anyway, isn't he still suspended?" I asked, remembering the notification I'd seen on a few weeks ago. "I think we'll be safe."
"We're still on the same continent, nowhere's safe!" said Kit melodramatically, and turned her attention towards trying to find her boots.
Half an hour later we were ready to go. I felt the excitement build as we hurried down the stairs of our apartment block and headed out to the garage and towards my car, a 2001 Ford Fiesta I absolutely adored.
"Oops, forgot something!" said Kit, throwing her bag onto the passenger seat. She disappeared back up the stairs and reappeared moments later with a huge banner that simply said 'Marry Me!'. I groaned as we got into the car.
"Do I really have to hold that?" I grumbled as she stowed it reverentially on the seat.
"Yep!" she replied with a grin. "It could be your only chance to snag Matt Hardy and I think you should take it."
"In that case, why doesn't it say 'Marry Me Matt'? Or does someone want to hog half of it and direct it towards Jeff during the match?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Kit innocently and I snorted.
"Yeah, well, if someone like Snitsky thinks it's for him, I'm throwing you to him and be damned with the consequences," I warned and put the gear into drive. We continued bickering for most of the 200-mile journey, but as we got nearer and nearer to the American Airlines Arena the talk switched to the possible outcomes of tonight's matches.
Even though it was two hours before show time when we got there, the queue to get in snaked right the way around the block. Thankfully the tickets we had also included a VIP pass, so we just walked to the front of the queue, flashed our passes and we were in.
The atmosphere inside was incredible. There was a definite buzz of excitement in the air and I stood still for a moment, drinking it all in until a vicious jab in the kidneys from Kit indicated that she wanted to get on, and we wandered over to the merch stall. I bought an Undertaker shirt – he had been my wrestling idol since I was seven years old – and Kit bought a HBK hat, placing it at a jaunty angle on her head. We then retired to the bar, where we discussed the possibility of Chris Jericho making his return tonight with a couple of other fans.
Finally, with half an hour to go, we took our seats at ringside. Kit unfurled the banner and placed it over the security wall in front of my seat. I glared at her but didn't argue; it would be futile, and would only get me hit, so I just shrugged and accepted it. The atmosphere was electric at this point and as random chants were started up and taken up by the majority of the crowd I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Kit and I joined in with a 'Hardys!' chant and finally, as the lights dimmed and the opening pyro went off, I screamed my head off along with the rest of the crowd as JR and King welcomed us to the pay-per-view.
The first match to be announced was a Triple Threat match for the vacant Cruiserweight Title. Kit and I cheered ourselves hoarse as Shannon Moore came out first, and booed the other two – Jimmy Wang Yang and Jamie Noble. Unfortunately, Shannon didn't win – Jamie Noble won the title, pinning Jimmy Wang Yang after knocking Shannon to the outside of the ring. Shannon crashed into the security wall right by where Kit and I were sat and we both groaned loudly as he made impact, but he got to his feet, shook his head and gave the crowd a grin before rolling back into the ring to exchange some heated words with Noble, who was celebrating with the title.
Then a backstage vignette showing Vince and Hornswoggle was shown on the Titan-tron. I didn't pay much attention to this, preferring instead to debate with Kit about how Shane and Steph felt about the whole Hornswoggle thing and why they hadn't come out and beat up their dad for it yet. Kit maintained that they were just biding their time and that we would see the McMahon kids turn on their father eventually, but agreed with me that she was also getting impatient for this to happen.
The next match was for the Women's Title, Beth Phoenix versus Victoria, who had cheated her way to victory during a Number One Contender Battle Royal on last week's RAW. I wasn't terribly interested in this match, not liking either Diva very much, so I opted to run to the bar and get us more drinks instead. I timed the run brilliantly, as the match was over by the time I got back.
The next match was a traditional Survivor Series Elimination Match, and the match that Kit and I had been most looking forward to. We went wild as the team consisting of Hunter, Jeff Hardy, Matt Hardy, Rey Mysterio and Kane made their way to the ring. I almost swooned as Matt Hardy passed incredibly close to me, and Kit was wide-eyed and almost drooling at the close proximity of Jeff. Almost as soon as she started staring Hunter appeared to glance over and frown, causing me to giggle and not be able to stop.
"Nutter," Kit muttered at me and I grinned back at her and concentrated on booing the other team, consisting of Umaga, Mr Kennedy, MVP, Finlay and Big Daddy V.
The match started with Kennedy and Jeff facing each other. As usual Kennedy wasn't really any match for Jeff's high-flying offense and he quickly tagged in Umaga, who set about squashing Jeff. After a series of extremely painful-looking squashes Jeff managed to get back to his corner and tagged in Hunter, who attacked the Samoan fatty with a ferocity that was quite scary. He Irish-whipped Umaga into the turnbuckle where the rest of Umaga's team were gathered and MVP tagged himself in.
The match was fast-paced and furious and I lost count so many times of who was the legal man. First to be eliminated was Big Daddy V, falling foul of a vicious Pedigree from Hunter. Kennedy fell to a Twist of Fate/Swanton Bomb from the Hardys, and unfortunately Rey got eliminated when he attempted a Springboard Splash on Finlay but MVP intervened, knocking him off the top rope. MVP continued to be a thorn in Hunter's team's side, interfering again to get Jeff eliminated before arrogantly starting to push Matt, his tag-team partner, around. Matt of course was having none of it and after MVP had eliminated Matt and then been eliminated himself by Kane quickly after, the two of them continued brawling outside the ring.
Finlay was then eliminated by Kane, leaving Umaga the only one standing in that team, facing Hunter and Kane. They got the win when MVP, trying to escape Matt, ran into the ring and accidentally knocked Umaga down; while the ref was distracted with trying to get MVP out of the ring – MVP being reluctant to do so given that both Kane and Matt were waiting for him on the outside – Hunter low blowed Umaga with his trusty sledgehammer and then hit the Pedigree for the win once MVP had been dragged out of the ring by Matt.
After the match, a backstage segment was shown with Vickie Guerrero berating both Matt and MVP for their behaviour at ringside. She ended the segment by saying "If you want to hurt each other so much, I'm putting you in a match," and made a no-DQ match for the US Title later on. I squealed like a total fangirl at the announcement, hoping that Matt would be able to silence MVP once and for all.
After that another of the 'SaveUs" videos that had been showing for weeks now on RAW aired, sending the crowd into another frenzy. The cheering got even louder when the lights dimmed, Chris Jericho's entrance music started to play and a shadowy figure strode into the ring. The cheers quickly turned to boos when the lights came up revealing not the man we had all been expecting for quite some time now, but Edge. He was stood right in the centre of the ring with his trademark smirk firmly in place, relishing the heat he was getting from the crowd.
"I'm sorry, were you expecting someone else?" he asked, prompting another wave of boos and chants of 'Jericho!'. "Well, I'm back," he said, spreading his arms and grinning. "Did you miss me?" Another wave of boos, and he smirked and nodded his head. "It's been a long time since you've had the pleasure of seeing me in action. I put my body on the line for you, and nobody cares? I'm hurt, really. I mean, I ripped my pectoral muscle right off the bone. It hurt. I shouldn't even be here right now, I should still be 'resting', but here I am, ready to take on anybody who wants it, ready to prove once again that I am the best... ready to take my title back." Another wave of boos, which didn't appear to affect him in the slightest. Kit and I appeared to be the only ones laughing but then we could never hate Edge, no matter how much of an asshole he acted; he was just too funny to be able to hate completely.
"You know, it's been a long few months," Edge continued, still seemingly oblivious to the abuse that he was receiving. "It's been a long, -boring- few months. You know what I need? I need to do something... fun..." A shiver ran down my spine at those words, as it appeared as though he'd looked directly at me. My heart leapt into my throat and my stomach churned with nerves as he walked to the edge of the ring and gestured. "You there, with the sign. Come on up here." I froze. Surely he couldn't have meant me? I wasn't the only one around with a sign, anyway. "Come on, you. With the pink hair. Get up here, and bring that sign," he ordered again. I half rose out of my seat hesitantly, but Kit had other ideas; within seconds I had been propelled over the security wall and had landed on my ass, right in front of all these thousands of people.
"I hate you!" I growled at Kit, who was looking beautifully innocent. I shook my head and made my way nervously into the ring, taking hold of Edge's hand that he had outstretched. I was suddenly painfully aware that my palms were all sweaty, and my throat seemed dry. Edge seemed completely oblivious to my nerves, however.
"Hey, what's your name?" asked Edge.
"Elli," I replied, trying to sound cool but my voice came out as a sort of squeak.
"So, Elli, that your sign? The 'Marry Me' one?"
"Yeah, that's hers," Kit called and I shot her a glare.
"Yeah. What she said," I said, shaking my hair back at the same time as flipping her the Vs.
"Great," said Edge, grinning broadly. He took hold of my hand and pulled me closer; I started to feel slightly light-headed and hoped I wouldn't faint. "In that case, I accept your proposal. In fact, I think we should get married as soon as possible. You up for getting married right now?"
"Sure," I replied with a grin. It has to be part of the show, I thought as Edge asked if there were any ministers authorised to do marriages in the building. It's a work, and Kit's in on it, that's why she shoved me out here. I reasoned that if Kit was in on it then AJ would have been as well, and mentally cursed the pair of them out. While it had always been my dream to be part of the WWE, I would have preferred not to make a complete tit out of myself during one of the main pay-per-views of the season.
A little old man was escorted to the ring by security. He announced that he was authorised to perform marriage ceremonies and went through the whole, this shouldn't be taken lightly, blah blah spiel. We stood in the middle of the ring and Vince and Coach came out to act as witnesses. The minister took us through some simple, generic vows which we repeated, some rings were miraculously produced probably from the costume department as they looked as though they were made of cheap tin, and then the minister instructed Edge that he could kiss the bride. I don't know why I was only expecting a kiss on the cheek or maybe on the lips, but I was completely unprepared for the full-on, tongues and all assault I received. It was actually a pretty good kiss and I was glad that Edge had hold of me around the waist, because my knees suddenly went weak. I was vaguely aware of someone shoving some paperwork under my nose and me signing it, and then I started walking back to my seat.
"Hey, where are you going?" Edge demanded, grabbing hold of my arm and pulling me back.
"Back to my seat, for the rest of the show," I replied, raising my eyebrow at him. He threw his head back and laughed.
"No, no, no, no, no. We're married now. You're coming with me." I laughed.
"Yeah, right. That was all part of the show, right?"
"No, no it wasn't. It was something I just decided to do just now. Crazy, huh? I'm amazed Vince went along with it, he doesn't usually like improv being sprung on him like that," Edge replied with a grin.
"Wait. Wait. Oh shit!" I said, panic setting in as I realised what had actually happened. "You mean... you mean we're actually married? No. No, that's not right!"
"Looks like Edge's new wife isn't too happy about something, King," I heard JR say.
"Probably the fact that she just got married to Edge," King replied and I started to laugh hysterically.
"So we're married, then? Actually, properly, 'til death us do part married, yeah?"
"That's right." Edge started laughing too. "It's pretty wild, hey? I mean, we don't even know each other."
"No, we don't." I started squealing with nervous laughter, clasping my hands over my mouth to try and muffle the sounds. I tried to think of something remotely intelligent to say, but my brain failed me and in the end I just settled for, "Oh, fuck!" as the Wedding March played and Edge swept me into his arms and carried me out into the back.