Mickie made her way down the hallway, fuming. She could not believe the audacity of JBL and replayed the situation over in her head.
''Well, that's not a bad idea. I was wondering if you have maybe a couple more,'' Vince said to her in his personal office.
''Well, of course. Tell me what you think. Maybe a concept to where schools all over the nation can send in tapes on why they love the WWE. Why they love RAW. And then the winning school would get a diva for the day. We go to football games, and maybe do an assembly or a meet and greet-''
She was interrupted when JBL walked into the room. ''JBL,'' Vince announced with his trademark gruff voice.
''Mr. McMahon.'' The self-proclaimed 'wrestling god' gave his boss a polite nod.
''I don't know if you overheard any ideas Mickie was espousing. Perhaps you have some of your own.'' Vince looked expectantly at JBL.
''Mickie, essentially what you're saying is that our divas would be entertaining strangers.''
''Well-''
''Kind of like an escort service,'' the wrestling god finished.
Mickie's jaw dropped at JBL's ridiculous claim. She was flabbergasted and could only look at Vince for support.
''I think that's out of line,'' Vince said to JBL, making Mickie happy. At least the boss was on her side.
''What will you brilliant divas think of next,'' JBL retorted sarcastically, looking down at the petite women's champion. ''Mr. McMahon, like yourself, I am a wealthy man. Personally, with five hours of prime time entertainment, we're really giving away enough as it is. But if you insist, maybe some ring side memorabilia,'' JBL suggested.
''Well what do you have in mind to show appreciation?'' Vince asked, intrigued.
''Specifically from One Night Stand the ring side mat, you cut it up into pieces; you give it away to show our appreciation, especially the pieces with John Cena's blood.'' JBL gave Mickie a glare. ''I'm going to bust your boyfriend open like a Mexican piñata,'' he threatened.
She stared at him quizzically. ''He's not my boyfriend.'' First Katie Lea and now JBL? She should have never asked Cena out for drinks.
"May not be blood, but from what I understand, you've exchanged enough body fluids,'' he stated before walking out the door.
''How dare you,'' she spoke indignantly. She turned to Vince. "I can't believe he just said that. He just...'' Mickie looked at the door again. ''The nerve!''
''I think what he means by that is saliva,'' Vince said doubtfully, trying to rectify the situation. He could not even look her in the eyes.
She tried to be help the company by giving Vince what she thought was a good suggestion. But JBL had to turn the idea into something perverted. On top of that, he accused of her hooking up with Cena when they just went out for one night with her brother and his girlfriend.
''Hey, little girl, tell your boyfriend that he will never win the WWE championship. That privilege belongs to me,'' Randy Orton said cockily, standing against the wall in his black trunks.
She angrily stomped towards the Legend Killer. ''Excuse me, he is not my boyfriend!'' she screamed in his face.
Randy shook his head. ''Mickie, Mickie,'' he began condescendingly, ''everyone in the locker room knows that you hooked up with Cena. There's no use denying it.'' He smirked.
''Well everyone is wrong. We went out for a night of drinks. Then I went back to my hotel room,'' she explained.
"I'm sure you guys didn't get any sleep,'' he sneered.
Furious with the insinuation, Mickie gave him a hard slap in the face which was probably not very smart since he was a foot taller than her. She stepped back, realizing what she just did.
Randy grabbed her wrist abruptly. ''You bitch! No one slaps me and gets away with it!'' he growled angrily.
''What are you doing?'' a masculine voice demanded.
Mickie turned around to see John Cena walk forward. The former WWE champion pushed Randy back roughly. Grabbing her sore wrist, she was relieved that the Legend Killer finally let go.
"Well if it isn't the all mighty John Cena coming to defend his girlfriend,'' Randy mocked.
''What ever problem you have, you take it out with me. Leave Mickie alone,'' Cena warned, putting his face up to Orton's.
Randy put his hands up in feigned fear. ''Oooh, and what are you going to do if I don't?'' The Legend Killer challenged, starting at Cena in the eyes.
''I will beat you hard that you will wish you had never stepped foot inside the WWE,'' Cena answered, his face betraying no emotions.
Randy smirked. ''John, haven't anyone ever told you- your mouth should never write checks that your body can't cash.''
Mickie stepped in-between the two men and turned to Cena. ''John, don't waste your breath on that jerk. Let's go.'' She grabbed his wrist and was prepared to leave when Randy stopped them.
''I have a little proposition for you lovebirds,'' Randy said, his eyes glinting evilly. ''Why don't next week me and you have a match.'' He looked at Cena. 'If I win, I get Mickie.'' He licked his lips at the thought of having the curvy diva.
''No way,'' Cena growled. ''She is not to be part of any stipulation.''
''What's the matter Cena? Afraid I will beat you and humiliate you in front of your girlfriend?'' Randy jeered.
''Deal,'' Mickie chimed in, much to Cena's dismay.
''Mickie, what are you doing?'' Cena demanded incredulously. ''If I lose, you will become his sex slave.''
The words sex slave caused a lustful look to appear on Randy's face and Mickie flinched in disgust.
She put a hand on his shoulder. ''I have faith in you, John. I know you won't let me down.'' She gave the 6'1 man a smile. She then glared at Randy. ''When you lose Randy, you have to kiss John Cena's ass.''
Randy's trademark smirk disappeared at her stipulation. ''I will not kiss that tool's ass,'' he protested, feeling the urge to vomit.
Now it was Mickie's turn to smirk. ''What's the matter Randy? Afraid you're going to lose?''
If there was anything bigger than Randy's head, it was his pride. ''You're on.''