Officiating was never one of Maria's strongest points. In fact, until about a year and a half ago, wrestling hadn't been a strong point. Up until she'd broken up with Santino Marella, about the only thing she was good at was, well, nothing. Except maybe looking cute. But she didn't exactly need any kind of talent to look cute, to be honest. She simply was.
Dumping Santino had definitely been the best decision Maria ever made in her WWE career. Once he was out of her life forever, she finally got the chance to really learn how to wrestle, and despite having done a much-talked-about photoshoot for Playboy magazine – the main thing that led to her leaving her boot print on Santino's egotistical ass – she quickly discovered that she was much better suited in the ring, rather than in front of a camera with little or nothing on. Heck, she was the first Diva to defeat the brawny and intimidating Beth Phoenix by pinfall. That had to say something significant.
In spite of all that, she hadn't particularly mastered the art of officiating a wrestling match, which was one of the reasons why she had expressed reluctance when SmackDown's general manager Vickie Guerrero appointed her to be the special guest referee for the WWE Divas Championship match between her close friend Michelle McCool – the defending champion – and the challenger, Maryse Ouellet, a rather conceited, bleach-blonde twenty-five-year-old from Montreal. Of course, it didn't matter where Maryse was from, least of all what color her hair was (half the WWE's Divas, past and present, were blonde anyway). The main problem was with Michelle, who had lately been unhappy with the way things were going for her over the past couple months. The problem itself was that these things were putting Michelle at odds with Maria.
In late October, during a tag team match, Maria was too distracted by her giant, silent admirer, Festus and a mariachi band, for Michelle to tag her in, and that fiasco ended up costing them both the match. Initially Michelle was pretty cheesed off, but, being the sweetheart that she was, she let it slide, as it was not entirely Maria's fault. Nothing else happened between them for a while.
But then about a month later at Survivor Series, Maria accidently caused Michelle to be eliminated from the SmackDown Divas team – of which Michelle was the team captain – and a small, and subtle, but noticeable change came over the Divas Champion. While she still smiled a lot, and was generally friendly and cheerful, a lot of women in the locker room were starting to get the feeling that it seemed a little forced, because something about Michelle's manner seemed a little... off. No one could put their finger on it, but something was unquestionably wrong.
At the beginning of December, Maria defeated her in a singles match on SmackDown, and later on that night, Michelle, irate over the loss, retaliated by kicking her in the stomach backstage. Just a few weeks after that, during an 8-Diva tag match at Armageddon 2008, she tagged herself in just as Maria was starting to build momentum and stole the winning pin for herself. Tension hung over their four year friendship like a slowly darkening raincloud, but Maria was darned if she was going to let this little thing ruin it all. They'd had much worse times over the past four years, and there was no reason for Michelle's behavior to not simply run its course and blow over. There was one time when neither of them spoke to one another for nearly a month, but later they made up. This was no different.
With newfound self-assurance, Maria took off her regular street clothes, and pulled on a referee outfit custom-made especially for her. While yes, it was true that she hadn't mastered the art of refereeing a wrestling match, it was not true that she didn't know how to officiate. The rules were simple, and relatively easy to enforce. She could do this.
"Hey Maria," a voice behind her called. Maria turned to look.
It was Michelle, already in her wrestling gear, with her title belt in hand.
"Hi Michelle, what's up?" Maria answered, smiling at her friend.
Michelle smiled back, but she was clearly thinking about something else, and she appeared to be trying to avoid eye contact without actually looking like she was trying to avoid eye contact. Something, it seemed, was bothering her.
"You know, Maria, we've been friends for a long time," Michelle began.
"For four years," Maria replied, nodding.
"Yeah, that's right. And I know we've had some issues in the past." Michelle sounded almost contrite as she spoke, and Maria dared to hope that she was finally starting to move on from the recent happenings between the two of them. "But I want to make sure they stay in the past where they belong. I'd also like to mention that nobody wants to see that chesty little trollop Maryse as Divas Champion." Michelle paused, realizing she'd used a double entendre. "Um, pun not intended."
"Well, Michelle, I would have to disagree that no one here wants to see Maryse as Champion," Maria had to say. "Because we are in Canada, and she happens to be a native of Quebec. I mean, you know how a lot of Canadian fans are, they'll cheer people like that bitter Chris Jericho, just because he's from the same country as them.
"I agree that Maryse is ultra-narcissistic, but that won't stop this entire arena from getting behind her."
Michelle's expression darkened, and Maria had a sinking feeling that she may have gotten her hopes up too soon.
"As I was saying, before you interrupted me," Michelle continued, sounding a little peeved, "Maryse doesn't deserve this title, whether these apparently biased people like it or not."
"Michelle," Maria looked into the taller woman's eyes and spoke calmly, "you know I can't help you win your match tonight. It's not a handicap match, I was appointed as the special guest referee. I'll be honest with you. I'm gonna out there, and call the match down the middle. If either one of you goes for a pin, it's my job to try to make a three count. If either of you gets your shoulders up before then, it's my job to stop the count. If either one of you starts breaking the rules, it doesn't matter which, it's my job to admonish whichever one of you who does. We both know I'd love to see you retain tonight, but you do understand that I have to be impartial."
Michelle smiled and shook her head, gesturing that Maria didn't need to keep talking. "Oh no, I wasn't saying that I'm looking for any kind of special treatment. I mean, if I won with the referee's help, how would that make me look?"
For the first time in several weeks, both women smiled genuinely at each other. But just as quickly as it appeared, Michelle's smile disappeared, as did Maria's.
"Although I'm warning you, Maria," Michelle said in a stern voice as she slung her title belt over her shoulder, "don't screw this up. You've messed up a lot of things for me recently, and frankly I'm getting tired of it. But if tonight goes well, I promise I'll forget it all. So please don't mess anything up tonight, okay? Trust me, I'd advise against it."
There was a trace of warning in Michelle's last sentence, but Maria simply smiled.
"Trust me, Michelle," she said. "You don't have to worry about a thing."
The smile found its way back to Michelle's face as she affectionately rested her hands on Maria's shoulders.
"That's what I wanna hear, sweet face. I'll see you out there."
"Here she comes again like good medicine. Every step she takes my blood is flowing. Her legs go on and on for days..."
The Canadian crowd popped the instant Maria's theme music started playing over the sound system, and the reaction quickly turned into cheers when the beautiful redhead herself flounced out onto the stage and down the ramp toward the ring in her custom-made referee attire.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, your special guest referee, Maria!" SmackDown's young ring announcer, Justin Roberts' introduction was merely a formality; everyone knew who Maria was.
And this was something Maria could never get used to; indeed, she didn't wish to. She never wanted an arena full of people cheering for her to become business-as-usual. As far as she was concerned, it was an experience that couldn't be duplicated, thus every time it was special.
She slid into the ring, and quickly climbed up onto the turnbuckles, posing and blowing kisses to the crowd, who cheered, waved, took pictures, and blew kisses back. The sheer adoration this crowd was raining on her made her want to do a frog splash into the audience and love them back even more. Of course she'd never be allowed to do such a thing, but hey, a girl can dream, right?
Her mind quickly returned to business as her theme music faded out, and the timekeeper at ringside rang the bell twice.
"This contest set for one fall is for the WWE Divas Championship!" Justin Roberts didn't have to add any enthusiasm to his voice while making that announcement; any time he got to announce a match that involved Divas was a good day at the office for him. And the Canadian crowd didn't have to force any cheers out of themselves either; they were pulling for Maryse, the self-proclaimed 'sexiest of the sexy,' a moniker which actually once made soda shoot out of Maria's nose because she laughed so hard. Not that Maryse wasn't 'sexy' to look at, but she was so conceited – and thus, not sexy as a person – it was sometimes funny, almost cute. With emphasis on 'almost.'
"...You're not enough for me... Ohhhh no, no. Just another man in love with me. Just another man... Ohhh... Gotta open up your eyes and see. hey, hey oh well... You're not enough for me. oh no..." The champion Michelle McCool's music started playing next, and while she didn't receive quite as enthusiastic a crowd reaction as Maria did, a lot of the fans seated along the ramp crowded the barricade, either reaching out, or taking pictures, or simply waving at the spirited and energetic Divas Champion. Michelle, herself, meanwhile, brushed hands with, and smiled for as many fans as she could before entering the ring, where she climbed onto the turnbuckles and held her young title up high, amid another lightning storm of camera flashes.
Maryse's music hit, and, being Canadian, she got the biggest reaction by far. While it wasn't as if The Undertaker, or Triple H, or even Edge were making their way to the ring – three men who were destined to be in the WWE Hall of Fame some day – it was a huge pop for a Diva nevertheless. It was ironic, though, that the loudest cheers were for the competitor who deserved it the least.
Maryse was quite possibly the snootiest, most self-absorbed individual in the entire SmackDown women's locker room, and maybe even the entire WWE. Raw's Beth Phoenix was a jerk and a bully – and Maria was very happy to no longer be on the same brand as her – but she was not full of herself. The thing about the Glamazon was that, whether you liked her or not, she was the real deal; Beth didn't need to show off, because she already knew everyone else knew how powerful and skilled she was. Maryse, on the other hand, was... well... Michelle was right in that this butter-headed skank didn't deserve to be champion.
But as much as Maria hoped her friend would win, she still remembered that she had to call the match fairly. Hopefully tonight would go well, and the next title match would be called by someone other than her.
"Introducing first, the challenger," came Justin Roberts' voice over the mic, "from Montreal, Quebec... Maryse!"
The crowd cheered for her, but instead of waving to them or anything like that, Maryse simply grinned smugly, tossed her white-blonde hair and struck an arrogant 'look-at-me' pose.
"And from Palatka, Florida, she is the WWE Divas Champion... Michelle McCool!"
As expected, there were some boos, but Michelle nonetheless held her title high and smiled to the fans who were cheering her, before handing the belt to Maria and focusing her attention on her challenger.
Maria quickly frisked them both, a standard procedure to make sure neither wrestler had smuggled any foreign objects into the ring, and when she didn't find anything she held the Divas title belt up to signify that it was at stake, in case someone was just tuning in on TV at home. After she handed the belt to a ringside technician, she motioned to Michelle on her right.
"You ready?" she asked.
Michelle nodded. "Let's go!"
"You ready?" Maria asked Maryse.
"Oui."
"Here we go, then!" Maria said before signaling the timekeeper, "Ring the bell!"
The instant after the bell rang, the two women immediately locked up, each competitor trying to out-muscle the other until Michelle applied a side headlock on Maryse.
Maria espied Maryse's hand snaking up and grabbing a handful of Michelle's hair, and yanking down, wrenching the taller woman's head back, and causing her to grunt in pain.
"Hands off the hair!" Maria admonished her, but the French-Canadian ignored her. "Off her hair! One! Two! Three!" Maryse relinquished her grip before Maria reached a count of five. She knew if Maria had gotten to five, and if she were still jerking on Michelle's hair, she'd be disqualified and the match would be over. With a burst of sudden energy, Maryse powered out of the headlock, and sent Michelle into the ropes.
Using the momentum, Michelle propelled herself off the ropes and laid Maryse out with a shoulder block, and promptly got booed. Paying no attention to this, Michelle hit a leg drop on Maryse and went for an early cover.
Maria quickly checked to make sure both Maryse's shoulders were on the mat before bringing her hand down to the mat in attempt to make a three count. "One!" But Maryse kicked out with authority before Maria could even get to two. There was no way she was going down this early, especially in her home country.
Wasting little time getting to her feet, Michelle pulled Maryse up by her head, grabbed her wrist and wrenched the entire arm, twisting it to an unnatural position and systematically yanking it, threatening to dislocate her shoulder. The French-Canadian Diva attempted to counter the hold by hitting a back heel trip on the Champion, but Michelle held on, kicked up off the mat, and wrenched the arm once again.
Maryse grunted in pain, but kept her focus, and hit her opponent under the shoulder with a swift, sudden kick, breaking Michelle's hold on her wrist. And before the taller woman could recover, Maryse was already wrenching and jerking her arm.
Instinctively, Michelle landed a blow directly on her adversary's cheekbone, walked over to the corner of the ring, got up on the second turnbuckle, backflipped and landed on her feet, reversing the pressure, and threw Maryse across the ring with a powerful arm drag.
More boos droned forth from the Canadian crowd, which didn't surprise Maria one bit, but it kind of annoyed her all the same. She was fine with them cheering a fellow Canadian, but why go to the trouble of booing Michelle McCool, who was actually a decent person? It didn't matter, though. Certainly not now, in the middle of a match that she happened to be officiating. The crowd needed to be the last thing on her mind at the moment.
"What d'you say, Maryse, have you had enough?" Maria asked Maryse.
The haughty Diva snapped a reply in rapid French, and got back to her feet.
Michelle, who had been waiting at the other side of the ring, charged, attempting to clothesline her challenger. But Maryse was ready for her, and countered, looking for a crucifix pin. Just as quickly, Michelle countered Maryse's counter and swung her around, hit a Russian leg sweep and went for a second cover.
"One!" Again, Maria only managed to pound the mat once before Maryse kicked out of the pin attempt.
Michelle was once again the first to get to her feet. She took Maryse by the hair and pulled her up until she was standing, clocked her with a hard uppercut, and kicked her in the abdomen, before sending her into the ropes.
As Maryse bounced off the other side of the ring, Michelle bent over and lowered her head, allowing the other blonde to attempt a sunset flip pin. But before Maria could even make a one-count, and in the span of two seconds, Michelle had already rolled out of the pin attempt, and hit a low dropkick to Maryse's face.
She quickly went for a cover.
Maria started the count once again, pounding the mat. "One! Two!" And Maryse kicked out. "Two!"
Michelle backed away as Maryse took her time standing up. She seemed loopy after being booted squarely in the face, which did not surprise the Champion one bit. Intent on inflicting more damage on her opponent, Michelle approached the French-Canadian who had gotten to her knees, but before she could lay a finger on her, Maryse – who had been playing 'possum – struck like lightning, hitting a drop toe-hold on her, and sending her crashing face first into the bottom turnbuckle.
With the Toronto crowd behind her 100%, Maryse got to her feet and grabbed the top rope to give herself extra leverage as she stomped and kicked at a momentarily stunned Champion.
"Get off the ropes and get her out of the corner!" Maria yelled, trying to pull Maryse away from her friend. The Diva with the home-field advantage ignored her and whacked Michelle in the head with her forearms. "I'm gonna start counting! Here we go, one! Two! Three! Four!"
Maryse raised her hands and backed off before Maria reached a count of five, at which she would disqualify Maryse for excessive aggression. The Quebec native sneered and talked some French smack at Maria, and landed a few more blows on Michelle in the corner before pulling her to her feet, Irish-whipping her into the ropes and delivering a dropkick to the face of the Divas Champion, as the Canadian fans cheered her.
Maryse haughty tossed her hair and went for her first cover of the match.
"One! Two!"
Michelle instinctively kicked out and the crowd booed, but Maryse stayed on the offensive, landing a few kicks and stomps to Michelle's spine before locking in a seated rear chin lock, her signature submission maneuver. It was not the most painful of holds, but it often did quite a number on many a Diva's spine, which commonly resulted in a visit to the chiropractor.
Maryse grinned snootily as Michelle struggled vainly to power out of the hold.
"Ask her!" Maryse crowed, as she jerked Michelle's neck back, furthering her attempts to make her submit. "Ask her!"
"What do you say, Michelle? You wanna quit?" Maria asked her friend, and the word "quit" seemed to reinvigorate the Divas Champion, as her eyes suddenly grew fiery and she began to power out of the submission hold.
"I never quit!" Michelle responded with authority, and grabbed herself some leverage by managing to fold her legs underneath her to the point where she could stand up on her knees. Maryse's chin lock was still engaged, though, yanking Michelle's neck to the point where all she could see was the ceiling of the arena. And Maryse didn't know it, but the Champion had regained control of the situation. Michelle drove a sharp elbow into Maryse's taut abdominal region, which temporarily threw her off balance, and gave Michelle all the time she needed to grab Maryse around the neck and snapmare her onto the mat.
Maryse quickly rolled away and got to her feet before Michelle could go for a pin. She charged, but was met with a stiff boot to her face, and fell down hard, stars already flickering before her eyes. She felt Michelle hooking her leg as she went for a cover, and was barely aware of Maria pounding the mat as she counted.
"One! Two!" And, purely by instinct, she kicked out at two and a half, thus saving the matchup and her title opportunity. She started to get to her knees, but only got that far before Michelle's hard elbow clocked her in the cheekbone, and the Champion lashed out with a python-like leg, connecting another powerful kick to Maryse's visage.
Michelle bounced off the ring ropes to give herself additional momentum as she went for another kick to her opponent's face, but was caught by surprise when Maryse – in the span of a second – leapt to her feet, and struck with her entire arm, landing a blow in Michelle's collarbone and throat area with a vicious clothesline that nearly took her head off. The force of the impact swept Michelle's long legs from underneath her, and sent them flying into the air, as she crashed shoulders-first down onto the mat.
Maryse stood over the Champion, spat a few words in French, and arrogantly flipped her white-blonde hair. Neither Michelle, nor Maria understood a word she was saying, but they could however tell she was talking smack judging from her mocking tone of voice. She snootily strutted about the ring, and flipped her hair before attempting an elbow drop to Michelle's heart which missed when the Champion rolled out of the way at the last second.
Still on their hands and knees, they grappled and thrashed each other, both of them trying to outmuscle and gain the advantage over the other as they slowly made their way to their feet in mid-combat.
Michelle took the high ground, and violently thrust her forearm underneath Maryse's chin, causing the challenger's head to snap back, the force of the blow nearly knocking her flat on her back. Not wasting a second, Michelle grabbed Maryse by the wrist and whipped her into the ropes, and in the same instant the Canadian Diva bounced off the ropes, Michelle leaped into the air, brought up her long powerful legs, and sent the soles of her boots smashing into the surgically augmented chest of Maryse with a thunderous dropkick. Maryse toppled like a ninepin.
But just as soon as she went down, she was already back up. Michelle knocked her down with a clothesline. In one second, Maryse was on her feet, in two, she was hit with another dropkick, and in three she was again lying face up on the mat.
Frustration began to build in Michelle, as Maryse was getting up for the third time in a row.
What do I have to do to keep this Barbie-doll down?! Michelle wanted to snarl through her teeth, while Maryse had gotten to her hands and knees. I am going to win this match if it's the last thing I do.
Michelle wasn't the only one eager for the match to be over; Maria was quite ready to make a three count herself. Preferrably one for her friend, but a three count all the same. And while she was grateful that both ladies spent most of the match abiding by the rules – cutting down on the need for her to get in the middle of things – Maria had no plans on officiating many more title matches. Occasional singles or tag team matches she could deal with, but there was something daunting about officiating a title match that she wasn't particularly fond of. It was either that, or she would have just preferred to be participating in the match itself rather than enforcing the rules in a zebra-striped shirt.
Michelle bounced off the ropes, and – with lightning speed – somersaulted while simultaneously grabbing Maryse by the neck in midair. The force of Michelle's momentum was enough to flip Maryse's entire body over, and she was slammed to the mat for the third time.
Maria saw a smile on Michelle's face, and wanted to share it, but couldn't as long as the match continued. They shared the same feeling, though; they both sensed that a pinfall was only three seconds away.
Michelle went for the cover and hooked a leg which looked completely limp. This was it.
Maria struggled to contain herself as she went to start counting. Maryse lay totally motionless after that sick flipping neckbreaker from Michelle, who had immediately gone for a cover, and it only took three seconds to count a pinfall. Three seconds! This had to be it right here!
"One!"
Maryse didn't move.
"Two!"
Maryse still didn't move. This was it! Michelle was going to retain!
"Th--" Out of nowhere, Maryse's shoulder shot off the mat at exactly two and three quarters, and Maria thought she would throw up. Maryse's shoulder was up, and the match had to continue.
"Two and a half!"
"WHAT?!" Michelle was incensed, her hands clutching the sides of her head in utter disbelief. She went for another cover, but Maryse grabbed her by the back of her neck and pulled her down into an inside cradle pin attempt, and Maria had no choice but to count.
"One! Two!" Michelle managed to kick out, still livid. But, as she stood up, her eyes were not set on Maryse, but rather, on Maria.
"What were you doing counting so slowly?!" Michelle demanded, "That was supposed to be a three count!"
Since they were still in the middle of a match – without any time to really talk – Maria could only defend her decision by pulling rank.
"She got her shoulder up at two and a half!" Maria insisted, "It was not a three count!"
"What is the MATTER with you!" Michelle was yelling now. "By all rights, this match should be over right now, I swear!"
Maria felt her heart sink when she noticed something Michelle didn't. Maryse was standing right behind the Champion, waiting to strike, and since Maria was the referee, she couldn't warn her friend and be impartial at the same time. There was nothing for her to do except--
Michelle started to turn around when it happened.
Maryse's boot cracked her right where her jaw met her skull; her eyes rolled back into her head, and she tumbled to the mat, like an android that had just been deactivated, and lay very still. It was a distinct possibility that Michelle was out cold. All because she spent more time arguing with the referee than concentrating on her opponent like she should have been.
Not like this, Maria thought. Not this way. She watched helplessly as Maryse went for the cover, sitting on Michelle's chest and hooking both legs.
Maria didn't want to, but she had to do it. Didn't have a choice. She started counting.
"One!"
Michelle was still unmoving. Come on, Michelle! Maria thought, desperately.
"Two!"
Please, Michelle! Just kick out! If Maryse kicked out of your neckbreaker, you can kick out of this! Please kick out! Please!
"Three!"
That was it. The match was over. Michelle had lost.
Maria felt numb as she signaled the timekeeper to ring the bell. She didn't even hear Justin Roberts announcing the winner, or Maryse's music start to play. Barely aware was she of what appeared to actually be genuine elation on the French-Canadian Diva's face as she ran to the timekeeper's table to grab the title belt, and the fans' cheering wasn't even registering with her.
Everything was eclipsed by one crushing realization.
Michelle's inaugural Divas Championship reign was over. The worst part of it was that she had inadvertently cost herself the match, and the title.
The former champion herself, by this time, managed to pull herself up into a sitting position, and she sat, stunned, silent, with a look of pure shock on her face. She seemed unable to move or speak.
Maria stepped over to her defeated friend, and held out her hand, offering to help her to her feet.
"I'm so sorry, Michelle," she said, guilty. "I had no choice. I'm so sorry."
Michelle stared blankly up at Maria, and glanced at her outstretched hand, as if it were an odd growth from an otherwise common plant.
Slowly, hesitantly, Michelle reached up and took Maria's hand, and she stood up and the two friends embraced as the crowd applauded them.
And while Maria was disappointed that Michelle did not retain, she was grateful that Michelle remained her friend despite what transpired during the match.
"I want to go home," Michelle said quietly in Maria's ear, sounding lost and distraught.
"Okay, Michelle," Maria said in a tone of voice a mother might use to comfort a sick child, "tomorrow we'll check out of our hotel, I'll drive us to the airport, and we'll take the first flight to Tallahassee, how does that sound?"
"That sounds great." Michelle spoke barely above a whisper.
"Now why don't we go back to the locker room and get changed for now, and once the show is over, we can head back to the hotel, and order some nice expensive room service. I'll buy."
"Okay."
Maria let go and turned to leave. She only got three steps before something hard – something that felt like a dropkick – hit her between the shoulder blades like a battering ram, and bowled her off her feet, sending her to the mat as the crowd gasped in shock and dismay. Before she realized what was happening, she felt a pair of hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair and slamming her face onto the mat, again and again and again, smashing her harder and faster each time.
The hands let go, and whoever it was seemed to back off for the moment. Maria rolled onto her side, and looked up just in time to see Michelle McCool charging at her with hate in her eyes, and winding up for what looked like a punt.
Michelle delivered a sickening kick to Maria's ribcage, with enough strength to send a ball to the other side of a professional-sized field. The impact from the blow seemed to reverberate through her entire body, lighting every bone on fire, and racking her with pain from head to toe.
Michelle cruelly stomped Maria's now very vulnerable body into a broken, trembling heap, snarling through clenched teeth while she backed away to the other side of the ring, lining up for another devastating kick to Maria's already brutalized anatomy.
Maria clutched her injured ribs and began to cry brokenheartedly. Michelle McCool – her best friend in the world – had turned on her in the worst possibly way. In an instant, she'd become sadistic and evil.
Still writhing in pain, Maria rolled onto her other side and was able look into Michelle's eyes, and what she saw there – cold-blooded abhorrence of her – made her want to scream, and scream, and scream, and scream with grief.
To Maria, it was as if Michelle had been swiftly, but brutally murdered right before her very eyes, and replaced with a loathsome, inhumane, vengeful doppelganger whose sole purpose was to physically and emotionally hurt her in every way imaginable.
Maria was too heartbroken to even move.
Michelle charged again at Maria who lay helpless at the other side of the ring, wound all the way up, and kicked her across the side of her head, as hard as she could, ignoring the heat the enraged Canadian crowd was giving her.
The ringing in Maria's ears was deafening, following the kick to her skull. She was barely able to register any other form of sound – in a packed-out arena full of vocal WWE fans, she could only scarcely detect the sound of the crowd voicing their newfound displeasure toward the half-crazed, out-of-control woman in the ring who, until less than ninety seconds ago, was Maria's greatest friend, of either gender.
Before tonight, Michelle was a truly beautiful woman; kind, sweet, generous, humble, enthusiastic, lively, charismatic, and considered by nearly everyone in her life to be an absolute blessing to know personally. She held such graceful control over herself, she never raised her voice, never even snapped when she was angry.
This was such a disturbing, and horrifyingly rapid transformation it was as though she had been born evil. As though she had never spoken a kind word, or showed any display of humanity in her life.
Her eyes betrayed no emotion but hate, and her face was contorted with rage, as she planted her right boot on the back of Maria's neck and grabbed her by the hair. Then, with a sudden burst of demonic strength, she crunched her foot onto Maria's neck, while cruelly pulling up on her red mane with both hands.
"Stop!" Maria managed to shriek, between her cries of torment. "Please stop!"
"SHUT UP!" Michelle snarled, tugging and stomping extra hard, which made Maria cry and plead even louder. "SHUT UP!"
Michelle removed her foot from the back of Maria's neck, and, still holding her by the hair, yanked her all the way to her feet and hurled her through the ropes to the ringside area.
All Maria wanted to do at this point was get away, but it was everything she could do to get on her hands and knees, and crawl only a few feet, before Michelle grabbed her beneath the shoulders, hauled her up and rammed her head-first into the barricade.
"THIS IS NO MORE THAN YOU DESERVE!" she heard Michelle roar in a voice that hardly even sounded human, and was barely aware of the sound of feet running toward her, before she felt Michelle's knee crack her in the temple, practically crushing her skull against the barricade.
Michelle had literally beaten Maria senseless, but was still not done with her, as she pulled Maria up by her hair yet again, and hurled her shoulder-first into the steel ring post.
Maria's body fell to the floor and lay in a beaten, brutalized, utterly destroyed heap of flesh and hair.
For a few moments, Michelle stood there and stared at her handiwork, with a crazed look on her face, while the sellout crowd thundered their emphatic rage towards her, though there were many people who stood wide-eyed, and open-mouthed in shock and disbelief. Ignoring the fans, Michelle started to slowly, coldly walk to the back, like a killer leaving a freshly made murder scene.
She had gotten halfway up the ramp, when she noticed on the TitanTron, that Maria had moved. Half-conscious, she was feebly attempting to roll onto her back, but not succeeding.
It didn't matter to Michelle. She spun around and started back to the ringside area where she fiercely grabbed Maria by her hair and left arm, pulled her up, and flung her into the ring. But instead of following her, she stormed over to the timekeeper's table and seized two folding chairs which had quickly been vacated as soon as their occupants noticed the rampaging woman approaching them.
Why won't she just stop? Maria wanted to sob as she lay helpless in the middle of the ring, in which, less than three minutes ago, she was officiating an excellent, physical and competitive Divas match. She's my best friend, why won't she stop? What's happened to her?
Getting up and running for her life was something that she could have done earlier, but was too dumbfounded, and brokenhearted to even try. It was much too late now. She felt her head being briefly picked up by the hair, and dropped back down to the—on a steel chair which had been slid under her head.
Maria suddenly became very afraid, because she now knew what was about to happen to her – something which sometimes put six foot, two hundred fifty pound men out of action for weeks. She was only five and a half feet tall, and a hundred and ten pounds lighter than most male wrestlers. It would be a miracle if she remembered her own name. She would be lucky if she didn't end up in a coma.
Michelle was setting her up for a con-chair-to.
No. Please no. Don't do this, Michelle. Think about what you're doing. I may have to relearn how to walk and talk if you do this. There'll be no turning back for you if you do this. Our respective lives will never be the same if you do this. I'm begging you, Michelle! Don't do anything you're going to regret!
Michelle held the chair over Maria's temple and tapped it against her bruised head a couple of times, cruelly teasing her.
The chair was lifted up, and there was nothing Maria could do about it. She was simply too weak to move.
PLEASE DON'T DO IT!
The chair came crashing down onto Maria's defenseless skull, and her head felt as though it had cracked open like a coconut. Her vision swam through a shapeless void of flashing lights and explosions, and her now-scrambled brain throbbed with a stabbing, agonizing pain as she began to lose sense of time.
She was unsure of exactly when Michelle finally took her remorseless leave, and when the referees and trainers arrived.
The last thing Maria remembered before her world plunged into swirling blackness was resting in the arms of Eve Torres, another close friend of hers, while she sobbed and shrieked for the EMTs.
The whole world was a blur; full of voices shouting things she couldn't understand. Visions swam in front of her eyes, and she couldn't tell whether she was dreaming or slipping in and out of consciousness. She tried to shake herself awake, and in the same instant, the voices suddenly grew louder and more concerned. Fear nearly overcame her when she felt hands from more than one person hold down on the upper part of her body, and she blindly reached out and grabbed at thin air with her hands, unable to see her possible tormentors.
But then, amidst the swirling vortex of chaotic sound, a familiar voice rang out.
"Everyone be quiet! One voice at a time!" Yes, that voice sounded very familiar. She knew that she knew who it was, but couldn't quite put her finger on it. "Maria, can you hear me? It's your friend Eve. Just lie still, you're safe. You were hit in the head with a chair, which is why you're a little loopy right now. You're on a stretcher, and you're being loaded into an ambulance which is going to take you to the hospital. Just lie still, I'll be right next to you the whole time."
"Michelle." The name slipped almost involuntarily from Maria's lips. She couldn't remember if it had positive or negative associations with her. It was all still too indistinct.
"Yes, Michelle attacked you," the voice – Eve – replied. The sound of her voice was so soothing. "But she's gone now, and we're taking you to a safe place where she can't hurt you any more. I'll never leave your side until you're all right, I promise.
"Okay, guys, let's get her in."
Maria's head was still afire with blinding pain, but after hearing Eve's voice, she felt comforted, and this time she welcomed the darkness as it overtook her again.
