Alright, his plan was NOT working. Jericho stared down at the floor. So this was what it felt like to be 7 feet tall. There was absolutely no way to get out of the move, the guy's hands were as big as his waist! Before he freefalled facefirst into the ground, he wondered how much Show must eat everyday.
He kind of realized that he was going to die, then he was going to lose his title. He thought he could bring him down by using his agile body, but as he found himself getting stomped, crushed, and otherwise beaten and thrown around like a rag doll, something inside him just told him that he was screwed. Well, either that or he just felt a lung burst.
He was about half dead when he heard minor booing from the crowds. Looking up from the strangly mess, he suddenly almost got his head ripped off when someone flew right past him and attacked the big tub of lard himself. After regaining that lovely conciousness he had currently been lacking, his mind clicked with the body he was staring at.
If he hadn't felt like a train, a car, and a truck ran over him simultaneously, he would have laughed at the irony of the current situation. There was Benoit, the rabid wolverine himself, beating up on Big Show. His actions ultimately saved Jericho from losing his title. Aww, he shouldn't have.
He had gained enough wind and managed to stagger up, turning his head to see Benoit retreating, not before flashing him a smirk. He made a mental note to thank him. Maybe he'd send him a fake tooth. Either way, he saw his good buddy Rock getting his bottom kicked, pun intended, of course.
Mustering his strenght, he slammed his body into Big Show, pretty much serving him up to ol' Rocky. He quickly moved out of the way, not feeling like prying himself off the ground if Show landed on him.
He was a bit tired, but as he saw Rock retreating and doing his usual 'angry look' thing, Jericho knew he REALLY had to get out of there before Show got up. Crawling out, he quickly retreated himself, though his movements seemed more like a drunk person's.
When he got to the back, Rock met up with him, a smirk on his face. At that point, Jericho really didn't feel like listening to a third person speech, but he knew he really shouldn't disrespect someone that both saved him and also had about 10x more energy at the moment.
So, after a long speech from the Rock about kicking Show's ass, and after a weary promise that he'd be his partner again if he was needed, The Rock strutted off. Jericho decided then the guy was more full of himself then he was.
He had regained his composure and finally realized he had somehow kept his title after one of the stupidest decisions he had ever humanly made. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, getting it out of his face. Right then, he suddenly heard some very angry yelling. He just knew it was Big Show. He was about to walk away when he heard a loud crash. Freezing, he figured only two ways to do this..pretend he didn't hear, or save whoever it was being attacked.
Maybe it was the huge bump on his head, but he decided to go help whoever was seriously in need of some assistance. Grabbing a chair, which he knew would probably not even PHASE the giant idiot, he dutifully made his way to all the noise. He stopped suddenly, seeing who was getting beaten up.
He had to face another decision, and he had to make it in five seconds. He was either going to quickly back away, pretending he wasn't there or..save the one person he'd never think of saving..Benoit. Jericho knew Benoit hadn't PURPOSELY saved him, he still did. Damn his sense of right.
He wound up, aiming..and let out the biggest smash he ever made. Old blubber butt fell to his knees, then to the ground. Chris blinked, looking at the chair.
"I can make a mold of Show's head now!" he laughed. Throwing the chair aside, he walked over to Benoit, who was face first on the ground. Jericho realized that since he really didn't seem capable on his own at this point, he groaned and helped him up.
"Whu..?" he asked. He seemed pretty woozy from getting smashed into walls by a guy ten times his size.
"Come on Benoit." he said, helping the poor guy put his arm around Jericho's shoulder so he could get more support. "Man, you better be so glad I'm in a good mood today."
"I don't want your help." he moaned, not fully concious.
"I don't want to help you either but I'm being nice. Come on, Roboto." he dragged him over Show's knocked out body, and took him to the only place he knew of.
"Here, sit down." he kind of dropped him on the little couch in his locker room. He did love being a higher up wrestler, they got their own locker rooms. Grabbing an ice pack out of the thermos container, he gave it to Benoit. "Put it on that head of yours. Got a nasty bump going there."
He obviously was a bit more aware. "If I wasn't so dizzy I'd kick your ass." he muttered, doing as Jericho told him too.
"Don't change, do you? Well, just be happy I saved your ass. You'd have a HELL of a lot more then a little bump on your head, Roboto."
"I could have handled it." he rolled his eyes, then winced.
"Wow, then I guess you lying on the ground was just a smart ploy to trick him?" He held a grin then. Benoit let out a little huff.
"Well, I don't owe you anything." he stated clearly.
"'Course not, Roboto!" he chuckled. Benoit tried to stand up, and did. Kind of. He didn't have much balance.
"I can't believe I'm in here." he said, trying to stagger to to the door.
"By the way, Benoit, I know you didn't mean to help me when you kicked Show's ass, but thanks!" he stopped, turning to Jericho. "Though me and Rock took care of him."
"You're so damn weird." he said, staring at him.
"Aww, Benoit, you should know me." he chuckled. "We've been competing since we knew what that word meant! Of course, I was always the nicer one like right now."
"You're still a jerk."
"And you're still an idiot." Jericho nodded his head. Benoit opened the door, passing a glance at Jericho before leaving.
"I'll get my title back." he said simply before regaining his balance and leaving.
Jericho watched the door for a moment, thinking. "You're welcome, Benoit." he said to himself, letting out a bigger smile.
That was just how they were with each other.
He kind of realized that he was going to die, then he was going to lose his title. He thought he could bring him down by using his agile body, but as he found himself getting stomped, crushed, and otherwise beaten and thrown around like a rag doll, something inside him just told him that he was screwed. Well, either that or he just felt a lung burst.
He was about half dead when he heard minor booing from the crowds. Looking up from the strangly mess, he suddenly almost got his head ripped off when someone flew right past him and attacked the big tub of lard himself. After regaining that lovely conciousness he had currently been lacking, his mind clicked with the body he was staring at.
If he hadn't felt like a train, a car, and a truck ran over him simultaneously, he would have laughed at the irony of the current situation. There was Benoit, the rabid wolverine himself, beating up on Big Show. His actions ultimately saved Jericho from losing his title. Aww, he shouldn't have.
He had gained enough wind and managed to stagger up, turning his head to see Benoit retreating, not before flashing him a smirk. He made a mental note to thank him. Maybe he'd send him a fake tooth. Either way, he saw his good buddy Rock getting his bottom kicked, pun intended, of course.
Mustering his strenght, he slammed his body into Big Show, pretty much serving him up to ol' Rocky. He quickly moved out of the way, not feeling like prying himself off the ground if Show landed on him.
He was a bit tired, but as he saw Rock retreating and doing his usual 'angry look' thing, Jericho knew he REALLY had to get out of there before Show got up. Crawling out, he quickly retreated himself, though his movements seemed more like a drunk person's.
When he got to the back, Rock met up with him, a smirk on his face. At that point, Jericho really didn't feel like listening to a third person speech, but he knew he really shouldn't disrespect someone that both saved him and also had about 10x more energy at the moment.
So, after a long speech from the Rock about kicking Show's ass, and after a weary promise that he'd be his partner again if he was needed, The Rock strutted off. Jericho decided then the guy was more full of himself then he was.
He had regained his composure and finally realized he had somehow kept his title after one of the stupidest decisions he had ever humanly made. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, getting it out of his face. Right then, he suddenly heard some very angry yelling. He just knew it was Big Show. He was about to walk away when he heard a loud crash. Freezing, he figured only two ways to do this..pretend he didn't hear, or save whoever it was being attacked.
Maybe it was the huge bump on his head, but he decided to go help whoever was seriously in need of some assistance. Grabbing a chair, which he knew would probably not even PHASE the giant idiot, he dutifully made his way to all the noise. He stopped suddenly, seeing who was getting beaten up.
He had to face another decision, and he had to make it in five seconds. He was either going to quickly back away, pretending he wasn't there or..save the one person he'd never think of saving..Benoit. Jericho knew Benoit hadn't PURPOSELY saved him, he still did. Damn his sense of right.
He wound up, aiming..and let out the biggest smash he ever made. Old blubber butt fell to his knees, then to the ground. Chris blinked, looking at the chair.
"I can make a mold of Show's head now!" he laughed. Throwing the chair aside, he walked over to Benoit, who was face first on the ground. Jericho realized that since he really didn't seem capable on his own at this point, he groaned and helped him up.
"Whu..?" he asked. He seemed pretty woozy from getting smashed into walls by a guy ten times his size.
"Come on Benoit." he said, helping the poor guy put his arm around Jericho's shoulder so he could get more support. "Man, you better be so glad I'm in a good mood today."
"I don't want your help." he moaned, not fully concious.
"I don't want to help you either but I'm being nice. Come on, Roboto." he dragged him over Show's knocked out body, and took him to the only place he knew of.
"Here, sit down." he kind of dropped him on the little couch in his locker room. He did love being a higher up wrestler, they got their own locker rooms. Grabbing an ice pack out of the thermos container, he gave it to Benoit. "Put it on that head of yours. Got a nasty bump going there."
He obviously was a bit more aware. "If I wasn't so dizzy I'd kick your ass." he muttered, doing as Jericho told him too.
"Don't change, do you? Well, just be happy I saved your ass. You'd have a HELL of a lot more then a little bump on your head, Roboto."
"I could have handled it." he rolled his eyes, then winced.
"Wow, then I guess you lying on the ground was just a smart ploy to trick him?" He held a grin then. Benoit let out a little huff.
"Well, I don't owe you anything." he stated clearly.
"'Course not, Roboto!" he chuckled. Benoit tried to stand up, and did. Kind of. He didn't have much balance.
"I can't believe I'm in here." he said, trying to stagger to to the door.
"By the way, Benoit, I know you didn't mean to help me when you kicked Show's ass, but thanks!" he stopped, turning to Jericho. "Though me and Rock took care of him."
"You're so damn weird." he said, staring at him.
"Aww, Benoit, you should know me." he chuckled. "We've been competing since we knew what that word meant! Of course, I was always the nicer one like right now."
"You're still a jerk."
"And you're still an idiot." Jericho nodded his head. Benoit opened the door, passing a glance at Jericho before leaving.
"I'll get my title back." he said simply before regaining his balance and leaving.
Jericho watched the door for a moment, thinking. "You're welcome, Benoit." he said to himself, letting out a bigger smile.
That was just how they were with each other.