Chapter Two: The Hardcore Bombshells

-Morrison's POV-

"I am the Shaman of Sexy, the Tuesday Night Delight, the Guru Of Greatness - John Morrison!" I practiced with my sunglasses on, looking into the mirror. I usually did this every night before the show to make sure I could stay good and fit into character.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" Mike laughed at me in the background. We were in our locker room.

I turned around and took my sunglasses off. "Just practicing being in character. What? It helps with promos."

"If you say so." he still laughed. "C'mon, let's get outta here."

We walked out into the hall, heading toward the curtains. We were the first to start off the show, going against Punk and Kane.

"Hey man, did you hear about the new girls that were gettin'?" Mike asked me.

"No, who are they?" I replied, interested. Well, this should be good.

"I have no idea, but Punk's been helping them out." he said. "ECW's getting two new Divas, hah, I'm excited."

He was smirking. So I gave him the look.

"Easy, killer. Put it back in your pants." I laughed.

-Eiris' POV-

I kept on watching and watching as the scenery of the city rolled on by. I spaced out in my thoughts as I kept my eyes out the window. Punk was driving all of us to the arena and every inch of the way, I was growing more and more excited.

"So, did you girls pick out entrance songs and what not, yet?" Punk started up a conversation.

"Yep, mine's Poison by: Alice Cooper." I answered him. And Giselle, being the little hip-hop/pop wonder that she is picked out-'My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they're like; la la-la la la.'"

"Hey!" Giselle pouted in a kidding fashion, from me picking on her, jokingly.

"Are you serious?" Punk started to laugh, looking at Giselle through the rear-view mirror. "I haven't heard that song in years. Did you really pick Milkshakes?"

"As a heart attack." I laughed too.

Frenchie cheesed a smile from the back seat. "What? There's nuthing wrong weeth a little milkshakes, es there? Ahahahaha."

"Nah, we're just teasing ya, Giselle. It's fine." Punk replied, chuckling. "You know who you remind me of, thoguh?"

She flipped her hair, pretending to be conceited. "A bee-yuteeful French god-dess? Hahaha, just keeding, Punk. Go on ahead, who?"

"Hah, nice! Very close! But, you remind me of Maryse and Jillian Hall fused into like, one person."

Giselle put her pointer finger on her bottom lip, in a thinking state. "Hmm..."

"You know, being French and you're into hip-hop music?" I made it a little more clear for her.

She nodded, understanding now. "Ah! Yes, yes. I see now!"

"Yeah, so, how stoked are you guys for this?" Punk smiled.

"Ohhhhh, my gosh!" I exclaimed. "I am BEYOND, outta my mind, stoked."

"Me too, I am SO excited!" Giselle agreed. She giggled, clapping her hands.

"You guys are defintely gonna be great, I can feel it." he replied. "The crowd's gonna love ya."

"I'm hoping." I replied, sighing quietly. Being excited, I was nervous on the side. "We're starting off as faces, but who knows? We could be turned into heels, and then what? Will the crowd hate us? I'm always afraid of that."

"There's a fine line between heat-like hate and disrespect-like hate, Eiris." Punk explained. "Heat-like hate is the type of hate where the crowd hates you just because you're the heel, but they respect you because of how much effort you put into the ring. Disrespect-like hate is when the crowd hates you because you disrespect them in an uncalled for way, or by the lack of effort you put inside the ring. Like for example, John Cena? He's a face, and he's a decent guy in real life. But his arragonce always gets in the way and he doesn't put anything in the ring anymore. Or Dave Bautista? He's just like Cena, only he has one of the most shittest attitudes I have ever seen. Or even Barbie Blank. She doesn't do anything in the ring at all, and her attitude is crappy, too."

"But doesn't shee get cheers, like all ze time?" Giselle mentioned.

"Yes, but does she get respect? No." Punk said. "The male fans only cheer because she's eyecandy. For the female fans, they absolutely do not like her."

I stuck out my tounge in disgust. "Blegh, I hate Kelly-Kelly. She looks like the classic, stereotypical blonde. Sorry, but, I don't have respect what-so-ever for anyone who comes into the wrestling business for just exposure. It pisses me off."

"You're not alone." he said. "But just ignore her, alright? Focus on what really matters right now."

"You're right, okay, I'm ready." I said, exhaling, once.

He put a hand on my shoulder. "Chill. No matter what happens, it won't be the end of the world."

We took Punk's advice to heart. Giselle and I began putting all of our attention into making our debut, golden.

The two of us were ready. All we had to do now was wait.

We peaked through the curtains, looking out toward the ring. Our moment was coming now.

Moving past us, Jillian stepped in front of us. "Hey girls, 'scuse me, please."

"Yeah, no prob." I said, moving to the side.

Her entrance music came on. The crowd started booig her as she came out.

"Arriving to the ring, representing RAW, please welcome, Jillian Hall!"

"What's Jillian doing out here on ECW, Tazz?" Joey asked.

"No idea man, but let's just pray she doesn't start singing! Hah!" Tazz chuckled.

She walked up, upon the metal staircase and picked up the microphone that was on top of it. She entered inside of the ring and waited as the booing and the music died down.

"Hello all of you ECW fans!" Jillian greeted them.

"Oh, geeze." Joey laughed at just the sound of Jillian's voice.

"Tonight, I have a special preformance for you." the little blonde revealed. "Since I have never been on ECW before, I am going to SING FOR YOU!"

The crowd booed and freaked out.

"SHE IS SOO LUUUUCKY. BUT WHYYY DOES SHE CRYYYYYYY!" Jillian began to butcher the song of 'Lucky' of Britney Spears, of course. "IF THERE IS NOOOOTHING, MISSIN' IN HER-"

"We're on, girl." I told Giselle as we stepped out. Her music came on.

'My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they're like 'It's better than yours...'

The crowd was confused. Who were these new girls?

Giselle walked out, proud and cocky. She walked down the ramp just like the same super chick-esque way that Jillian did.

She took a mic from one of the crew members and started to speak as the music died down.

"Oh Jillian, oh deer, you butcheher the prefehction of that is Britney Speers." she began. "Please, just stop."

"Annnnd, you are?" Jillian questioned her.

"I am Giselle Coupre, pop singer ehxtrodinaire." she said. "And zees is my sister, Nana Coupre."

I don't know why, but I figure Nana would catch more of an eye out toward the fans. So that's why I picked that name.

"I've been wahtching you, and your preformance ees louzy." Giselle continued. "It's time someone stepped up and show you what a reel singeer ees."

"Um, I'm sorry, but I don't speak French, so uh, yeah." Jillian said, confidently. "Continuing on, anyway-"

"SHE SAID!" I took the mic from Giselle, interrupting Jillian and acting like I was pissed. "SHE'S HERE TO SHOW YOU WHAT A REAL DIVA IS!"

"WHOA! Calm down there, killer. Hah." Jillian, sniggered.

We stepped into the ring.

"Go ahead, pick zees first song." Giselle allowed her.

"Fine, as you wish." the blonde said. "SHORTY GET LOW, LOW, LOWWWWW!"

"OKAY ENOUGH!" I cut her off. I tapped Giselle on the arm. "Get her, sister."

"Right." Giselle nodded. "YOU MEKE ME WANNA LALA ON ZE KETCHEN AND ON THE FLOOR-"

That's when both Jillian and Giselle tried to sing. I pretended to be in pain as I heard them both.

"Stop!" I haulted them. Jillian looked at me. "I know how to settle this, and it'll be next week. In a sing off, with ME in my sister's place instead of you."

"Perfect. You're on." she declared.