Hey guys! So the other day I saw a tweet between Lita and Trish, and I had to make this story. I think its so awesome that these two are best friends, being so different from one another. This is a cute little story based off of that, and Trish's tweet about a supposed green dress Lita might wear for the HOF! Hope you guys enjoy! 3
"Fuck this."
Amy stared at the long, sequined gown her best friend Patricia held out to her in disgust. Yeah, she was going into the Hall of Fame, but Trish must have mistaken that for a funeral. "Trish, dude, that isn't me. I don't wear all that shit, and you know it. How silly will I look, decked out with tats and piercings, yet wearing some flouncy beaded gown?"
Trish sighed softly, before chuckling, pinching her redheaded friend. "Listen, Amy, we've been here for hours! You don't like anything I pick out for you, yet you asked for my help. I've been in this position before, you know. I think I would know, silly!" Amy sat down in the fitting room chair, scowling at the number Trish picked out.
"Atleast its black.." She thought, thumbing at the long cloth. Trish gave her a tiny smile, before sitting next to her. "Babe, I know this was just sprung on you, but you had to know this day would come. You're Lita, for Christ's sake. You were bound to be a Hall of Famer from jump. I'm honestly surprised I went in before you." Amy smiled a bit at her best friend, Trish always being so damn modest over anything. The girl knew nothing about professional wrestling fifteen years ago, and went on to be a seven-time Women's Champion. Of course she deserved her place in the Hall of Fame.
"Hush, Trish. I just don't get all of this. I didn't really expect to be inducted, especially after the way I went out. I hung up all that wrestling love in my heart, and just went my separate ways with it. So all of this is just news to me, I didn't think anyone cared about some rebel who wouldn't wear a skirt to fit the Diva mold."
Trish nodded a bit, understanding where Amy was coming from. But she couldn't believe Amy wouldn't expect to be rewarded for all she had done. She broke her neck for the damn business; of course she would be remembered. "Amy, please. You could kick most of the men's asses out there, and did it with class. All the love triangles, slut chants, other things aside, you are if not the best woman to go out there and entertain a crowd. And that's coming from a Hall of Famer, chick." Trish smiled softly, bringing her best friend in for a hug.
Amy's spirit brightened a bit, happy that she could count on Trish through anything for love and support. Trish stood up, brushing her Yoga jumpsuit off, while extending out her hand for Amy to take. "Now listen, you little prick. You're going to go in there and try on this damn dress, or I might have to Chick Kick you and throw it on you myself! You know, for old time's sake." Trish laughed deeply, as Amy clenched her fist at her best friend, shaking it in mock anger.
"Let's just get this shit over with, Stratus. Don't you dare think of putting that dumb-ass make up on me either! I'm an eye-liner type of chick, and that's all I'm doing." Trish threw her hands up, agreeing with the fiery redhead so that she could just finally try the dress on. As Trish locked the door to the fitting room, she laughed in a teasing manner, before speaking.
"By the way, Ms. Dumas, my buddy Fred just wants to try some little tips on you with the make-up…You can always wash it off after the ceremony." Trish giggled as she listened to Amy pound on the door, spilling out every cuss word ever invented.