A/N: This is for Tracy *glares death rays at her* It's more or less Benoit's diary. Some of the dates might be wrong (I barely remeber what month it is now... You expect me to rememeber when Jericho and Benoit became buddies? Geez!) So I'm sorry for that. I own no one. I don't own Benoit or any other wrestlers. And for the sake of my story (and next chapters) Benoit isn't married. You'll see why later *happy giggle* And Benoit actually did say 'Quote The Crippler' when he was fighting Raven back in WCW *caw* *caw* I think that's it. Rock on!
There he is. So cocky. So full of himself. Running around with those titles on his muscular shoulders.
Wait. I should stop. This is beginning to sound like a Goldust promo.
My name is Chris. Chris Benoit. And I'm watching my friend, Chris Jericho be a jackass on national television. My doctor told me I should start writing in this journal thingy (I am NOT going to refer to it as a 'diary' like she did, because that brings mental images of pink things and tea parties....)
I guess I should explain my background. I was a WWF Superstar. Not only Superstar status, but the best damned technical wrestler in the world. I was trained by one of the greatest wrestling family in the world (the Hart's) and I'm a natural born Canadian (Which makes me extremely good, no matter what I do. What? I'm not *that* biased, am I?) I've worked hard all my life. From the Dungeons in Japan to the Mexican wrestling rings. From an under-appreciated wrestler/jobber in WCW, to stardom in WWF. I went from the toughest bastards to ever step into a ring to a cuddly wolverine. My entire outlook on life changed because of that man there, Chris Jericho.
It was May of 2000. I hated Jericho. We used to have long, bloody, and brutal feuds in WCW. We honestly went out every night, hoping to kill the other. But, nowadays, I honestly can't even remember why we started hating each other.
But, that was all in the past. In March I had broken free from the Radicalz and their destructive ways. So there I was have a little feud with Kurt Angle the Olympic Dork and being all by myself. I had no little group around me, and it was the greatest I had felt in a long time.
But, I have been in this business long enough to realize that you only get ahead by watching anyone who could be your future opponent. And that's why I used to stay in my locker room and watch the rest of the show, even after I was done for the night. So, I was watching Jericho and Regal's little feud. I think Jericho pissing into Regal's tea was the funniest thing I ever seen. I don't think I've ever laughed so loudly.
One day, Regal and Angle were double teaming on Jericho and I had been watching. I couldn't help myself and I ran out to help the poor guy. I, along with Jericho knocked the two ass clowns out of the ring. When Jericho finally realized who had helped him, he glared at me. And I glared right back at him. Neither one of us knew what to say, and when I finally left the ring, I felt Jericho's eyes boring into my back. Never looking away.
I got into the back and went into my locker room to change. When I got out of the shower and walked out into my room, he was there. I felt extremely odd standing there (besides the fact that I *was* only wearing a towel) and because if I would have found him in my room a couple years earlier, I would have thought he was trying to plant a bomb or something. We both stood there for a couple of minutes, until he extended his hand and said thanks. I gave him one of my best witheringly stares, but he kept his hand out. I finally relented and allowed my tough guy exterior to fall and I took his hand and we shook.
He smiled at me and I couldn't help it. I smiled back. "Glad to see your gap hasn't changed after all these years, Benyoit!" and we re-lived 'the good old times.' Isn't odd how the past seems better when you're looking back at it? But, it was less then fantastic when you were living it? Well, that's how Jericho and I though of our pasts. We became friends again.
But, Vince didn't like us. We were renegades in his eyes. So what better why to break us up? By dangling a chance to be the WWF Champion in front of our eager little eyes. Of course we had to pin that scum bag Austin. But, this wasn't a tag team chance against him. Oh no. It was a Benoit vs. Jericho vs. Austin match. And as much as becoming friends was to Jericho and I, being the champion was (And still is) the most important thing to us. So during that Pay-Per-View, King Of The Ring in New Jersey, the Canadian Chris's friendship and reunited camaraderie was broken and shattered into a million billion pieces.
Too match a long match short, Jericho got a couple good swigs at me and I got a couple at him. But, Austin got more shots at the two of combined and he kept his title and I hurt my neck. I don't think I hurt my neck in anyone particular part of the match. My neck had been hurting since teaming up with Chris (3 months before) and I guess all the pressure and pain of that match finally hurt my neck so bad that after the match I got checked out by the trainer. He told me to get myself to a hospital fast and the doctors told me I needed an operation.
The doctors all told me I would never wrestle again after the surgery. But, I've never really been one to listen to quacks like them. So I recuperated and I trained harder then ever before. Many people always used to say that I trained much more unrelentingly then they ever would. So if *I* say it was hard.....
All this time I got cards and letters from some of my new friends (cuz when I was a Radical, I wasn't exactly Mr. Social). Lita sent me flowers once a week and called a lot. When the WWF was in Canada, Edge and Christian (pre-break up obviously) came by my house to check up on me in person. Jeff and Matt sent cards too. And Jeff even sent some of his weird poetry he wrote for me. Hell, even Raven, a guy I had a loooong feud with in WCW sent me a sympathy card. Everyone but him. Jericho. That jerk. And now there he is. Smugly smiling at the camera. Pissing off the Rock and the hometown.
You see, I don't mind that Jericho is all heel-like now. I know that his snide remarks are at his personal best when he's a heel. But since Jericho has never had the decency to call after the PPV, I can only gather from what the TV and Internet have told me about Jericho's latest moves. He sold himself to Vince. Vince McMahon, the man that the two of us spent almost 2 months fighting off his goons and henchmen. And now Jericho is one of his goons. Chris Jericho, every Jericholioics paragon of virtue, is now one of Vince's goons.
During the Alliance garbage, I made sure I didn't contact JR or any upper management people because I didn't want to get involved. The way I saw it, you could pick one of two evils. I've dealt with both Shane and Vince before and trust me when I say that I don't want to deal with them ever again. I wonder what made Jericho like this. Or should I say who? The last time we were on speaking terms, he had a tiny crush on Lita. More brotherly then anything and he didn't do anything about it because of both of the Hardyz love for their girl Lita. And now that Matt is out of the picture, Jeff seems to be her Hardy of choice. So who could it be? Or maybe I'm going at it wrong. Maybe it was something else. It was more likely the gold that got to him. It made the WCW Jericho come out. He had him tuck away deep inside for the longest time. You remember WCW Jericho? I sure do. He was the one that had the tendency to cry if things didn't go his way. But, in-between all that cry and tantrum throwing was the undeniable thirst for championship gold. So, he has finally gotten it. But, I wonder at what price?
There he is. So cocky. So full of himself. Running around with those titles on his muscular shoulders.
Wait. I should stop. This is beginning to sound like a Goldust promo.
My name is Chris. Chris Benoit. And I'm watching my friend, Chris Jericho be a jackass on national television. My doctor told me I should start writing in this journal thingy (I am NOT going to refer to it as a 'diary' like she did, because that brings mental images of pink things and tea parties....)
I guess I should explain my background. I was a WWF Superstar. Not only Superstar status, but the best damned technical wrestler in the world. I was trained by one of the greatest wrestling family in the world (the Hart's) and I'm a natural born Canadian (Which makes me extremely good, no matter what I do. What? I'm not *that* biased, am I?) I've worked hard all my life. From the Dungeons in Japan to the Mexican wrestling rings. From an under-appreciated wrestler/jobber in WCW, to stardom in WWF. I went from the toughest bastards to ever step into a ring to a cuddly wolverine. My entire outlook on life changed because of that man there, Chris Jericho.
It was May of 2000. I hated Jericho. We used to have long, bloody, and brutal feuds in WCW. We honestly went out every night, hoping to kill the other. But, nowadays, I honestly can't even remember why we started hating each other.
But, that was all in the past. In March I had broken free from the Radicalz and their destructive ways. So there I was have a little feud with Kurt Angle the Olympic Dork and being all by myself. I had no little group around me, and it was the greatest I had felt in a long time.
But, I have been in this business long enough to realize that you only get ahead by watching anyone who could be your future opponent. And that's why I used to stay in my locker room and watch the rest of the show, even after I was done for the night. So, I was watching Jericho and Regal's little feud. I think Jericho pissing into Regal's tea was the funniest thing I ever seen. I don't think I've ever laughed so loudly.
One day, Regal and Angle were double teaming on Jericho and I had been watching. I couldn't help myself and I ran out to help the poor guy. I, along with Jericho knocked the two ass clowns out of the ring. When Jericho finally realized who had helped him, he glared at me. And I glared right back at him. Neither one of us knew what to say, and when I finally left the ring, I felt Jericho's eyes boring into my back. Never looking away.
I got into the back and went into my locker room to change. When I got out of the shower and walked out into my room, he was there. I felt extremely odd standing there (besides the fact that I *was* only wearing a towel) and because if I would have found him in my room a couple years earlier, I would have thought he was trying to plant a bomb or something. We both stood there for a couple of minutes, until he extended his hand and said thanks. I gave him one of my best witheringly stares, but he kept his hand out. I finally relented and allowed my tough guy exterior to fall and I took his hand and we shook.
He smiled at me and I couldn't help it. I smiled back. "Glad to see your gap hasn't changed after all these years, Benyoit!" and we re-lived 'the good old times.' Isn't odd how the past seems better when you're looking back at it? But, it was less then fantastic when you were living it? Well, that's how Jericho and I though of our pasts. We became friends again.
But, Vince didn't like us. We were renegades in his eyes. So what better why to break us up? By dangling a chance to be the WWF Champion in front of our eager little eyes. Of course we had to pin that scum bag Austin. But, this wasn't a tag team chance against him. Oh no. It was a Benoit vs. Jericho vs. Austin match. And as much as becoming friends was to Jericho and I, being the champion was (And still is) the most important thing to us. So during that Pay-Per-View, King Of The Ring in New Jersey, the Canadian Chris's friendship and reunited camaraderie was broken and shattered into a million billion pieces.
Too match a long match short, Jericho got a couple good swigs at me and I got a couple at him. But, Austin got more shots at the two of combined and he kept his title and I hurt my neck. I don't think I hurt my neck in anyone particular part of the match. My neck had been hurting since teaming up with Chris (3 months before) and I guess all the pressure and pain of that match finally hurt my neck so bad that after the match I got checked out by the trainer. He told me to get myself to a hospital fast and the doctors told me I needed an operation.
The doctors all told me I would never wrestle again after the surgery. But, I've never really been one to listen to quacks like them. So I recuperated and I trained harder then ever before. Many people always used to say that I trained much more unrelentingly then they ever would. So if *I* say it was hard.....
All this time I got cards and letters from some of my new friends (cuz when I was a Radical, I wasn't exactly Mr. Social). Lita sent me flowers once a week and called a lot. When the WWF was in Canada, Edge and Christian (pre-break up obviously) came by my house to check up on me in person. Jeff and Matt sent cards too. And Jeff even sent some of his weird poetry he wrote for me. Hell, even Raven, a guy I had a loooong feud with in WCW sent me a sympathy card. Everyone but him. Jericho. That jerk. And now there he is. Smugly smiling at the camera. Pissing off the Rock and the hometown.
You see, I don't mind that Jericho is all heel-like now. I know that his snide remarks are at his personal best when he's a heel. But since Jericho has never had the decency to call after the PPV, I can only gather from what the TV and Internet have told me about Jericho's latest moves. He sold himself to Vince. Vince McMahon, the man that the two of us spent almost 2 months fighting off his goons and henchmen. And now Jericho is one of his goons. Chris Jericho, every Jericholioics paragon of virtue, is now one of Vince's goons.
During the Alliance garbage, I made sure I didn't contact JR or any upper management people because I didn't want to get involved. The way I saw it, you could pick one of two evils. I've dealt with both Shane and Vince before and trust me when I say that I don't want to deal with them ever again. I wonder what made Jericho like this. Or should I say who? The last time we were on speaking terms, he had a tiny crush on Lita. More brotherly then anything and he didn't do anything about it because of both of the Hardyz love for their girl Lita. And now that Matt is out of the picture, Jeff seems to be her Hardy of choice. So who could it be? Or maybe I'm going at it wrong. Maybe it was something else. It was more likely the gold that got to him. It made the WCW Jericho come out. He had him tuck away deep inside for the longest time. You remember WCW Jericho? I sure do. He was the one that had the tendency to cry if things didn't go his way. But, in-between all that cry and tantrum throwing was the undeniable thirst for championship gold. So, he has finally gotten it. But, I wonder at what price?