Blood, Guts, and Raw is War
By: Scott Taylor
[Begin Chapter 1]
"Welcome to the WWF, I'm Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley. I'm sure if you manage to live through the first week or so here you'll do fine. Road Dogg said you would make it, but I have my doubts," Stephanies arrogant attitude and breezy attitude was getting on the new-comers nerves.
"I know who you are and I know what to do. You just tel your business partner to watch out."
"You're going for the WWF title?!" Stephanie almost laughed.
"No. But I'm sure someone will," the new-comer brushed back her short, dark reddish brown hair. Then she started walking away from Stephanie. Stephanie stopped her.
"Oh, New Girl, no one is going to take the belt from Kurt. No one."
She walked up to Stephanie and stared her in the face. She had to look down slightly because she was somewhat taller. "Two things you need to know, Steph. One: The name is Flare. Two: Kurt will lose his belt within the next two weeks." Then Flare left the McMahon stunned.
"Now all I need is a champion..." Flare muttered to herself as she walked down the hall.
~~~~~
She loved the business and had thanked Dogg several thousand times for helping her get in the WWF. He was putting his reputation on the line for her. If she failed he would... So she decided not to fail. She was a survivor. She would win!
She watched the superstars. Some were obviously better than others. But she didn't want someone who was already at the top. They were all flash and no show. She wanted some one with talent.
Steve Blackman? Other than the fact he had no personality what-so-ever he was at the top of her list. He was talented and not the worst looking of the superstars.
Al Snow? ...maybe a little too much personality there...
Hardcore Holly? He seemed a bit rude and she doubted he would accept any help... doesn't really care if he has a title or not... He wouldn't be a very good choice...
Scotty 2 Hotty? He was a bit small and was already loved by the crowd. Same for Grandmaster. They'd be better for the Tag Championship...
Farooq? Bradshaw? ...their laid back attitudes would clash with her... Not to mention the fact beer-guzzling poker buddies didn't fit the image she wanted...
Bossman? Hold is he now?
Edge? Christian? She wanted someone with something that resembled an IQ...
Gangrel? No vampires, please...
Test? Albert? Trish Stratus...
Her list ended there. She had no more ideas. She glanced back at the list. She was getting discouraged. no one seemed right...
If she didn't find someone tonight she would go for the Women's Championship--help by Ivory. But her reputation would be very low with the McMahons. And everyone knew that the McMahons could make things happen.
"Hey, Dogg," Flare walked into her friends room. "I got a question for you."
"Shoot," Road Dogg turned his attention to her.
"Who do you think has possibilities here in the WWF?"
"Me." Dogg grinned at her.
She brushed her hair back from her face in exasperation. "Come on, this is serious."
Road Dogg nodded. "I know, but don't worry so much!" He flipped on the TV. "Let's just watch a match or two."
It was the Radicalz versus Right to Censor. Automatically, she eliminated the contestents. Right to Censor? -- uh huh... But the Radicalz... Saturn? He was big. And mean. But not what she was looking for. Something about an IQ... She wanted someone with cunning. Eddie Guerrero? That was a laugh. Dean Malenko? ...that would be worse than anyone in Right to Censor... He was small. Not too talented... Annoying came to mind...
But he was perfect! Cunning. Powerful. Talented. Had the best submission move in the WWF. A technical wrestler. The best technical wrestler? Possibly. Could he beat Angle? Yes. She had found her champion. His name was Chris Benoit.
"Hey, Flare?" Dogg's voice shook her out of her thoughts. "What's so interesting? It's just the Radicalz."
"Tell me about Benoit."
"What?! No way--" Dogg looked at her in disbelief. "The guy is bad news. Hunter likes 'im, but... He's no good, Flare. Use Blackman to get the gold if ya gotta. At least he's honest."
"Dogg, I've already decided. You can help me or I can go unprepared."
Road Dogg spent the next 15 minutes recalling everything about Benoit that he could.
~~~~~
"Chris Benoit?" He turned to her pulling on a shirt at the same time. He had just gotten out of his match against Right to Censor.
"What do you want?" Benoit sneered at the girl.
"My name's Flare. And yours is Chris Benoit."
"Really?" Sarcasm. He was bored. He had no time for these pathetic new people. "Hey, New Girl, hurry this up."
"The name is Flare, Benoit. You should really be nicer to the person who's going to make you a champion. The champion," Flare smirked at him.
Benoit looked her over. She was wearing tattered jeans and a black midriff tank top. He short hair was messily brushed back and her eyes were dark and calculating. He debated between hearing her out and ignoring her.
"And how might you do that?" Benoit's sneer grew patronizing.
Flare dodged the question. For the time being an answer would do no good. "The Radicalz are good, but you're obviously the talent of the group. It's odd that two of them have belts and you don't. You deserve those belts and more."
Benoit puffed slightly at the compliment.
"And talent like yours should not be wasted..." she slinked around him. Watching his reaction. "And frankly I think you'd look good with gold around your waste. Namely the World Wrestling Federation Championship."
Benoit was no fool and wouldn't let the question pass--no matter how many compliments he received along the way. "Your plan?"
"Agression," Flare grinned at him again. "I hope you don't mind my tactics, partner."
"Did I ever say I was your partner, New Girl?"
"Am I wrong?"
"We'll see."
"You'll have a title match on Raw," Flares confidence was contagious.
"How do you know?" Benoit still didn't trust the girl.
"'Cause Foley's a nice guy--and he doesn't like King Kurt," She then turned and left a stunned Benoit. The conversation had been less than five minutes.
Benoit just shook his head and entered his locker room not really expecting her to come back when she couldn't get a title shot for him.
~~~~~
"Commisioner Foley?" Flare stuck her head into Mick Foley's "office".
"Yes?"
"Hello, I'm Flare. I'm new here and--"
"Hiya, Flare. So how do ya like the WWF?" Mick shook hands with her. He had wanted to meet her. He had heard Vince McMahon say something about a girl with some karate skills who happened to have some ties with the Degenerates. He figured he'd give her a chance even if she was friends with 'em.
"It's great here, but I really need to talk to you about business..." Foley's face grew grim at her comment.
"Business? You want a match?"
"Yes and no."
"You want a title shot?" Foley took a bite out of a Snickers bar.
"Yes and no."
"Well, which is it?" Foley had had an aggravating day and this New Girl wasn't helping...
"I want to set up a title shot for a good friend of mine," Flare paused, letting the Commish think it over. "C'mon, we both don't like Angle, right? He doesn't even really deserve the belt. So...I thought you might grant a title shot for my friend on Raw."
Foley thought of who she was talking about. There was no question in his mind it was the Road Dogg who had actually recommended her to Vince. "Sure, just 'cause your new and cute, too." The Commish smiled at her in a way that he would a close friend or relative. "Who's your friend?"
"Chris Benoit."
That was when the Commish started choking on the Snickers.
"What?!"
"Thanks, Mick!" Flare winked at him and fled.
"Damn..." the Commish couldn't believe what had just happened. He had taken great measures before to make sure Benoit didn't have the title... He didn't think Benoit would be any better to represent the title than Angle... He took another bite out of the Snickers and reminded himself to ask more questions next time.
~~~~~
Flare pounded on Benoit's door again.
"Hey, Benoit, open up!"
He opened it finally and stared at her in shock, "You're back?"
"Did you doubt me?" She grinned. "I got the title shot!"
"You what?!" Chris stared at her dumbly.
"I got it," she stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.
"The commisioner okayed it?"
Flare nodded. "Do you still think the 'New Girl' can't do anything?"
Benoit slowly smiled the sinister smile he was famous for. He finally had his chance at the title again and didn't even have to go through the trouble of that 'number one comtender' bull.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Come in," Flare saw Benoit's scowl at her answering and shrugged.
Stephanie opened the door tentively. After seeing there wasn't an ambush she glared at Flare.
"I just heard about your request for a title shot," Stephanie's dull eyes snapped.
"Already?" Flare's tone was almost conversational.
"You can't have the WWF Championship. Kurt'll win."
"Will he?"
"He will," her answer was little more than a squeak.
"Should I?" She looked towards Benoit. He had a vague enough idea of what she was asking his opinion on and nodded 'yes' maliciously.
Flare then delivered a kick--much like Blackman's karate kick--to Stephanie's pointed chin. Stephanie collapsed in a heap.
"I think I like your tactics," Benoit grinned sinisterly again.
[End Chapter 1]
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