ONESHOT Hetfic Jbl/? After the events of the 2/23 Raw, Jbl has to find a new way to get into Wrestlemania, but exactly what is he willing to do to get there?
John Bradshaw Layfield was sulking in his limo as he faced the long ride down to Raw that evening. He had paid Shawn Michaels for his help to secure the championship and now, not only was he minus the belt and that money, but had lost his opportunity to succeed in his backup plan, breaking the Undertaker's streak at Wrestlemania. As it stood right now, he didn't even have a secure spot on the card he had hoped to headline as a triumphant champion.
If the McMahons were still present on Raw, this would not have been a great setback, Layfield knew the McMahons and understood them well, he knew how to gain their respect and favor, securing a match from them would not have been a challenge. Yet thanks to that greased up mental Orton, there were no McMahons to run Raw, there was only Vickie Guerrero.
The thought made Layfield pained, and he rubbed his brow to ease the headache, but it became worse the more thought he gave to that problem. He had alot of history against the Guerrero family, and even though he didn't know Vickie well, he had done enough to her former husband and others she cared for that she would surely hold those things against him.
Layfield could only hope that her remarriage to Edge, with whom he had no issues, and the passage of time might put him in a better place in her mind. With a heavy heart and a painful head, Layfield reached for his cell and called the General Manager's office to request a meeting that night. The responce had been surprisingly quick and shockingly good. He was welcome to come at his leisure, the secretary informed him, Mrs. Guerrero would happy to recieve him.
When he arrived at the arena, Layfield went straight to her office, checking his attitude and hat at the door, he entered the room wearing his very best smile. His internal alarm began sounding nearly right away. The room was barely lit, as if by candlelight, and his body tensed at once in expectation of a surprise attack. There was a loud popping, like the sound of a cork or a gun, and he instantly stepped backwards,instinctively seeking the relative security of a wall against his back.
A voice called out from the shadows.
"Hello, John. Please come in."
It was Vickie alright, but who else was in here? What was that noise? Why was it so damn dark? What was happening? A few cautious steps forward revealed the answer. The room grew lighter the farther John got in, until finally the silhouette of a full-figured woman emerged from the shape of a sofa and stepped outward into the light. It took him a few seconds to realise that she was wearing lingerie and holding two champagne glasses in her outstretched hands.
What the hell was this about? She couldn't honestly....
"I know what you're thinking, John." she was coming in close. "and I know what you want. I am the only one who can give it to you."
This had to be a mistake. This was not happening. Then she ran her hand over his chest. This was Wrestlemania twenty five,
in his home state. He wanted this match more than anything he had ever wanted in life, but John didn't think even he wanted
it as much as this.
Somewhere in between fondling him and pulling at his tie as he stood staring like a deer in the headlights, Vickie was fillin up his glass. The little plastic bottle dropped down to floor and John stared down at it and sighed.
Thank God for Mamajuana.