My heart was pounding in my chest. Holy shit. I hadn't realized how…gigantic…these guys were.

I tried to shake myself out of it without physically shaking myself, which required a feat of strength previously unimagined. Vince McMahon was introducing me to a room full of wrestlers as their new boss, and here I was focusing in on the size of their pecs. Christ, Moore. Keep it together.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, I was living a normal life.

As normal as any life could be, working for the largest entertainment industry in the world. No, not Paramount or Disney – it was much cooler than that, at least in my little world. I worked for World Wrestling Entertainment, colloquially known as the WWE.

I wasn't putting anyone through tables or running ropes. I wasn't even a commentator, or a backstage reporter, or a ring announcer or referee. In fact, if you watched the product, you never would have seen me at all. I was in an office in Stamford, toiling away over pages full of columns of numbers.

Liz Moore, Certified Public Accountant. Pleasure to meet you, although I'm not sure you'll be able to say the same about me after hearing some of the...business tactics I chose to employ during a bit of a hostile situation I encountered.

But we'll get to that.

Back to the men with giant pecs.

I tried to take the measure of all the faces staring at me. Most were curious. Understandable. Some were dubious. Also understandable. A few were outright hostile – Paul Heyman, for one. Understandable, but ultimately unacceptable. I held his gaze for a long moment while Vince was introducing me, watching as he leaned over and murmured something to an uninterested CM Punk.

I decided to look away then. As usual, my timing was impeccable – Vince finished his mostly-unheard introduction and turned the floor over to me.

Well fuck. I hadn't planned for this 'introduce yourself' bullshit. I felt like I was back in school. But he was there, staring at me expectantly.

"Thank you Mr. McMahon," I started. "I appreciate the opportunity." I glanced around the room again and took a deep breath through my nose, trying not to appear as nervous as I was.

"I see a lot of doubt out there. I get it. I don't care." The words fell out of my mouth before I could think better of saying them. Might as well roll with it now.

"I realize that I don't look like your average GM. I'm not a former wrestler. I'm not an administrator. Hell, I'm just an accountant. But I came into this company for a reason – because I fucking love it."

I could see a sense of grudging admiration on a few faces.

"You work hard for me, you bust your ass out there – we won't have a problem. You stonewall, you act like a dick, you decide to just flop and be lazy – you're going to see yourself losing your spot. I'm equal-opportunity, boys. And girls," I added hastily. "Go give me what you got."

"I'd like to," a voice piped up from the back. A ripple of laughter ran through the crowd.

I raised an eyebrow, a small smile on my face in spite of myself. "Not even remotely interested," I retorted, not knowing who it was. It didn't really matter.

"All I'm saying," I refocused everyone, "is that if you put the effort in, you'll see doors open for you. You don't, well..." I shrugged. "It's all on you, guys. Clean slate from here on out."

I looked around, making sure to meet eyes with as many people as I could.

"So," I continued after I'd finished my sweeping eye contact, "go out there and let me see what you can do.

And wouldn't you know it...they did.