I am fairly certain that there are no naked pictures of Vickie Guerrero on the Internet, although I'm sure that following Triple H's proclamation on Smackdown the search engines spiked with looky-loos who wanting to satisfy their morbid curiosity. And no, I was not one of them, but it did put this story into my head. Barring mental images of Vickie Guerrero undressed, I hope you enjoy this fic.

Uploaded: 05 January 2009

Outbid, Out-bought, Outthought and Outfought

"NAKED PICTURES??" came an incredulous bellow from the Smackdown General Manager suite.

"I'm sure it's just a mistake, sweetheart, a misunderstanding," cooed the not-so-dulcet tones of said GM a moment later.

"There are NAKED PICTURES of my wife on the INTERNET??" Edge cried, repeating his statement in fury.

"Wouldn't be the first time, I'm betting," Big Show said to himself in a low rumbling voice, looking pretty amused from his place on the couch.

Vickie Guerrero paced nervously, wearing a small groove in the beige carpet on the floor. The GM prided herself on being unshakeable, a pronouncement having been tested over and over again in the last year. When she was anxious her faced soured, became pinched and her fingers had a tendency to be twitchy. She looked slightly comical with her pursed lips while continuously flexing her hands.

Her husband, on the other hand, tended to shout and go berserk. "How did there even come to be NAKED PICTURES of you on the INTERNET??"

"Do you want to scream that any louder??" she snapped at him.

"Oh, why? Did you only want to keep it between us and the rest of the hundred million people around the globe who watch Smackdown??" Edge retorted.

"Stop yelling at me like this is my fault!" Vickie said, annoyed. "I don't even remember taking any nude photos…" she paused as she apparently recalled something. "Unless it was from that vacation we took in the Bahamas, where you were drunk, decided to get kinky and pulled out a camera."

"Wow, dude, you must have been totally wasted then," Big Show said with a smirk.

"Who asked you??" Vickie yelled, turning her wrath on him. "Anyway, we can't argue about where they came from, or even who put them up online. I'll find that piece of scum and crush him later. Right now, it's damage control."

"That's right," Edge said, standing up. "We need to get those pictures pronto."

Vickie nodded and then screamed, "CHAVO!"

Immediately Chavo Guerrero scampered into the room, a laptop in tow. "Yes Vickie?"

"Bid on those stupid pictures!" she ordered. "Make sure that you get them and no one else!"

"Uh, okay, but that's going to be a bit difficult…" Chavo said, putting the laptop on the coffee table.

"And why is that—?" Vickie asked, and then looked at the notebook screen. She let out a shriek and said, "Who is SkittlesH02 and why has he put down $1100.00 on my pictures??"

***

"Jeff, what are you doing?" Matt Hardy asked his brother as he found him in the gym, not warming up but hunched over a laptop perched in front of him on the benchpress, the WWE Championship draped over one shoulder.

"Getting into a bidding war," Jeff Hardy said with a mischievous grin, looking up at his older sibling. "Although it's suddenly turning into a real bitch."

Matt sighed and rolled his eyes. "Oh Jeff, not some useless trinket on eBay again. I still don't know what the hell you needed the giant ceramic Chinese lucky cat for."

"Ah, this isn't quite so useless, although it may be an even bigger eyesore," Jeff said, gesturing for him to take a look.

Matt peered at the screen and let out a disgusted yell. "Jesus Christ, Jeff, is that—? Oh God!"

"E-Yup," Jeff said, enjoying his brother's startled expression, "And that's just the teaser pic."

"Shit, she's got her legs spread and everything," Matt said, looking a little green. "And yet I can't look away… Wait, why the fuck are you bidding on this shit?"

"Think, bro!" Jeff said. "If I get these pictures then maybe I can hang them over Vickie's head and force her to get Edge to lay off me for a while. I need my rest too, without that nutjob on my case all the time because of this," he indicated the WWE title on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I get that, but why pay such a high price??"

"Hey, you'd be surprised how fast bids go," Jeff said, and then frowned as he was outbid. "Damnit, some guy called GoldShel111 just trumped me with $1350.00."

***

"Dude, that's fucked up," a voice came from behind Shelton Benjamin said, making the United States Champion jump in surprise in one of the locker rooms.

"Man, what the hell are you doing looking over my shoulder?" he demanded of Hurricane Helms, who had bent over him to check out what he was doing on his laptop.

"When I heard that that shit was floating around, I had to see, and it so happens that you're the first person I saw checking it out," he said. "I kinda find it funny that you're bidding on it, though."

"Listen, whatever leverage I can get over the GM to put myself in the number 30 spot for the Royal Rumble, I'm going to take it," Shelton said, defending himself. "I don't get off to this shit, if that's what you're thinking!"

"Hey, I'm just saying," Helms said with a shrug.

Just then Shelton was outbid, making him scowl. "Fuck, some asshole calling himself THESpankster17 just put down $1425.00."

***

"Call it insurance," THE Brian Kendrick was telling his associate, Ezekiel Jackson, in one of the hallways. He gestured to the laptop on his leg. "A backup plan. Essentially, it's a guarantee that we have the GM on our side for a long time to come."

"I don't care if you plan to blackmail the General Manager," Ezekiel said gruffly. "Just make sure that the money comes out of your paycheck and not mine."

"Dude, I use your credit card like one time to get myself this awesome jacket…" Brian said, shaking his head. "I said I would pay you back. Besides, you can keep the pictures; I know how you like your chicks nice and thick."

Ezekiel frowned and said nothing.

Brian looked at the screen and tilted his head to one side. "The carpet doesn't quite match the drapes, does it? Figures. What—?" he exclaimed. "I just got outbid by some schmuck called Bzkits_n_Gravy with $1470.00!"

***

"Keep the blindfold on, Festus," Jesse said to his tag team partner as the two of them sat in one of the lounges, a laptop in front of Jesse. Festus was seated beside him, a hastily tied blindfold around his eyes to apparently obscure his view of the offending image on the notebook screen. "What I'm doing may be a little… okay, it may be a lot nasty, but it's going to help us in the long run, you'll see! No, uh, it's best you don't see now, but when I score us another match for the WWE Tag Team titles, it'll be worth it!"

He was about to sit back when he found himself startlingly outbid for the item in less than a minute. "Huh? Someone called BFFVixens just bid $1965.00."

***

"She really should wax," Victoria mused as she peered at the notebook screen.

"Or at least trim, for God's sake," Natalya muttered, tearing her eyes away from the image. "Remind me why we're throwing an outrageous sum of money at this again?"

"A shot at the Divas Championship, flowery as it may be, or even a decent feud that doesn't involve us being fodder for those pastel-colored twin twits, the Bellas," Victoria said, scrolling down so she and Natalya wouldn't have to look at the item that they were putting their money on. "Although apparently we're not the only ones who had that brainwave."

"Yeah, I'm guessing the entire locker room is online, and then some; I heard even Charles Robinson threw a stake in."

"Man, with all that—oh, here we go," Victoria said, leaning forward again as she was outbid. "Goddamnit, we just got ousted by CoolBeans56 with $2075.00."

***

"We have like two minutes before the auction closes," Primo Colón said to his brother, the laptop balanced on his thighs as he sat on a bench in another one of the locker rooms. "Here, check it out," he said, turning the notebook towards Carlito

"Mierda, get that thing away from me!" Carlito Colón snapped, chucking an apple in his younger brother's direction. "Isn't it enough that Carlito already agreed on making that account and getting those pictures, you actually want me to LOOK at them??"

"Seriously, Carlito, if you just confine your eyes from the chest up, it's not so bad."

At that Carlito grabbed his brother by the hair and shook him roughly, so that Primo's already battered laptop clattered to the floor. "You snap out of it right now! The purpose of getting those pictures is to mess with Vickie Guerrero and Edge only and nothing else, got it??"

"I know, I KNOW! Now, fuck, let go!" Primo yelled, trying to shake him off. "This wasn't cool back in junior high and it's not cool now!"

Carlito let him go and Primo grumpily ran his hands through his hair before picking up his fallen laptop. "Now look what you've done; I'm going to have to replace this now… and we've been outbid. Some guy called GameKingH3 just put down $2200.00."

***

"Who knew you could be so popular?" Triple H was saying to the Vickie Guerrero action figure, as well as to the real Vickie Guerrero, who he was holding the doll up to.

"I know you were the last one to bid on the item, Hunter," Vickie said angrily to him. "There's only less than a minute before the auction closes. I want you to STOP bidding and let Chavo get the pictures so that I can take them and nobody will ever see them again."

"As tempting as that promise is," Triple H said, perching on the armchair in the General Manager suite, laptop in hand, "I've learned that in this business you're a fool to give out anything for free. So what will you give me in return for leaving this auction alone?"

Vickie scowled ferociously; it was a truly astounding sight, as the sides of her face seemed to droop sharply downwards even as her mouthed pinched tightly shut. Triple H watched the transformation in fascination, so that he almost missed what she said next. "All right, Hunter; if you step away from the auction I will grant you the number 30 spot in the Royal Rumble."

"A fitting exchange," Triple H said, grinning widely. "And seeing as I could really use that two grand to buy myself something useful, like a couple hundred copies of Kennedy's new DVD 'Behind Enemy Lines: Columbia', I accept. Let's shake on it. Consider your naked pictures left to you."

He held out his hand and Vickie was about to shake it when a beep came from the laptop. Triple H looked at the screen and gave a small, "Uh-oh."

"What, what??" Vickie Guerrero demanded.

"I just got outbid," Triple H said, looking truly astounded. "And just three seconds away from the close of auction."

"Tell me Chavo got them!" Vickie pleaded.

"Nope; sorry to disappoint you, Vickie, but it looks like a guy called Singhburns14 made the winning bid of $2345.00."

Vickie let out a loud cry of disbelief.

***

Meanwhile, in a stairwell not twelve feet from the General Manager suite, Ranjin Singh sat on the top step near the door, and elated look of triumph on his face. He watched as on his notebook screen he was pronounced the winner of the auction for eBay item number 220336943071, one set of prints of Ms Vickie Guerrero in all her glory, in both hard and soft copy.

"Khali is going to be stoked when he hears about this," he said, shutting his laptop closed and then hurrying out of the stairwell.

***

And back in the first locker room, only a few feet or so where a disgusted Shelton Benjamin was walking out after losing the online bid, Montel Vontavious Porter, otherwise known as MVP, gave a satisfied grin as he closed his own laptop. He had found the entire bidding war not only profitable but entertaining as well. Following that accidental switch of his and Edge's digital cameras, he figured he could make a mint off those certain naughty pictures he had seen, and he turned out to be right. Chip away at his contract, would they? He'd show them.

Next week he'd put those pictures of Edge boozed up and wearing nothing but Vickie Guerrero's granny panties up for auction and see how much he could make off them.

END