Title: A New Role
Rating: PG-13 for minor language and some violence
Spoilers: Oh, a whole bunch, plus some direct dialogue taken from the announcers.
Disclaimer: I own a few action figures that bear the likeness of some WWF superstars (particularly Jeff, I have like five of him), but I don't own the people themselves.
Summary: Would you get a guy who talks to a doll head to train you in the art of revenge?
RAW IS WAR, JANUARY 29TH, 2001
"You okay with that end?" Jeff called over his shoulder. He was carrying the front end of a folding table while Angel had the back.
"Well, I knew I had to start working my arms," Angel called back.
"Just pray we don't run into the Dudleyz. They'd as soon put us through this table as offer to help carry it. Well, we made it."
They put the table down and Angel looked around. "A janitor's closet?"
"Yeah. We used to have a commissioner, Mick Foley, who'd move his office around every week to the strangest places. That's where I got the idea. It's small, but big enough for you to set up shop and me, Matt and Lita are just in here if you need help." He tapped the wall near the closet.
Angel examined her office. It was small; there'd be just enough room for a folding chair if they set the table up in the hallway but, like Jeff had said, how much space did she really need?
"Well," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "I guess this is home."
"That reminds me. We got you some stuff. I'll go get it." He walked into the next room while Angel unzipped her backpack and took out the signs she'd made. 'Valet for rent. All offers considered.'
Jeff returned soon with a folding chair and a full WWF Attitude gym bag, which he placed carefully on the table. "The bag's from me. Every superstar has to have one of those bags."
Angel grinned. She liked the sound of the word 'superstar'. She quickly opened the bag to see what else was in there. At the top she found a small towel and water bottle. "From me as well," Jeff confirmed. "Boring but necessary. Here." He took the bag from her as if she hadn't been looking through it fast enough. "And also from me is this." He held out a large desk plate with 'Angel Torres' written on it.
"That is so cool!" Angel grinned, running her hand over the letters. "You didn't have to get me anything…"
"But there's more," Jeff replied, pulling out a tiny battery powered portable television. "This is mine. I need it back, but you can use it during shows so you can stay here and still keep an eye on things."
Angel felt like crying at his kindness. "This is awesome, Jeff. Thank you so much."
"My pleasure," Jeff replied in his slight southern drawl. "But if you go valet for someone, just bring that TV into the locker room first, okay? I'd hate to lose it. Anyway, Matt and Lita got you some stuff, too. This is from Matt." He gave her a handful of pens and a very official-looking appointment book. "Turn to the notes section."
"This is excellent," Angel said, flipping through the book. She found the section Jeff had told her about. There, in Matt's unbearably neat writing, was an alphabetical list of the superstars along with their eligibility as a valet client.
"Whoa," Angel murmured as she skimmed page after page of Matt's advice.
"I know. That's my brother for you. It should be useful, though."
"Definitely," Angel agreed. "You said there was something from Lita?"
"Yes," Jeff replied. "It's the best one of all. He handed her the bag so she could see for herself and she pulled out a pair of brand new wrestling boots. "Oh, you're kidding. Jeff, Lita doesn't even have a pair of these herself!"
"I know, but she knows you're serious about doing this and it'll probably be a while before you can afford a pair of your own."
Angel wiped a tear from her eye. "Wow, I…I have to go thank her."
Jeff watched her go, then calmly repacked the bag and followed her.
"You guys are the greatest!" Angel was still gushing when he arrived. "I don't know what to say."
Lita smiled. "Well, how about you, say, go find your new coach and see if he'll have you. You could get a whole day of training in and still be back in time to valet."
Angel nodded. "Yeah, yeah, that's what I'll do." She hugged Lita and kissed Matt and Jeff on the cheek before grabbing her new bag from Jeff. "Thanks so much, guys. I'll see you later."
* * * *
It had taken her a while to find it but she was finally there. In a curiously dark area of the arena stood a locker room with the names Blackman/Snow on the door. Realizing that she now didn't have Lita, Matt or Jeff for protection, Angel took a deep breath and knocked.
The door opened slightly and a mannequin head seemed to peer around it at Angel. It looked her up and down as a voice traveled from behind the door.
"Five foot nine. Female. Black hair. Identity unknown. Enter at your own risk."
'Well, that wasn't half creepy,' Angel thought as she pushed the door open.
She didn't quite know what she'd been expecting, but it definitely wasn't a well lit and almost spotless locker room, identical to the one used by Lita and the Hardyz. There were a few mats on the floor and a punching bag was rigged up at one wall. The guy with the sticks from Heat, Blackman, was working on the bag while the other guy held his mannequin head and stared at Angel expectantly.
"Hi," she said uncertainly. "I'm Angel Torres and…"
"One moment," said Al before looking down at the head. He looked up again. "Head says that's a very pretty name."
"Uh, thank you," Angel replied, trying to regain her composure.
"You're welcome," Al grinned. "No, Head, I don't know what she's doing here either but I'm sure she'll tell us if you quit interrupting." He looked back at Angel. "I'm sorry about that. Sometimes Head can be very rude. Go on."
"Okay, I'm here because I want to learn to wrestle and I want you to teach me."
Behind them, Blackman stopped pounding the punching bag. "You're kidding, right?"
Al was talking to Head again. "No, she's not just a wrestling groupie. Are you?"
"No," Angel shook her head. "I'm Lita's cousin. She's the one who said I should talk to you."
"Ah yes, Lita. Five foot seven. Female. Red hair. Identity – former Women's Champion."
"Yeah, that's her. So, will you do it?"
Al looked at Head, then over at Blackman.
"Don't think I'm getting involved in this."
Al held Head up to his ear and nodded a few times. "That's a great idea, don't you think, Angel?"
Bewildered, Angel blinked. "Um, I didn't quite hear…"
"We think that you should look after Head today and tonight. Tomorrow, if Head likes you, I'll train you. Sound fair?"
Angel stared at the head. What was she getting herself into? "Okay. Sounds fair. There's just one thing. I don't have much money."
Al waved her concerns away. "If I train you, we'll think of something, okay?" He carefully handed over Head. "You two have fun today."
As Angel left the room with Head tucked under her arm she heard Blackman speak. "Al, if you're responsible for that girl needing therapy, I don't know that I can remain your friend."
* * * *
Angel sat quietly in her office, braiding and unbraiding Head's hair. She didn't know for sure but, from the look of the face, Head seemed to be a she – and what she wouldn't want pretty hair?
If you said that Angel was bored you'd be right on the money. Despite her prime position in the hallway, no one had stopped to even inquire about her business. In fact, the only people she'd seen at all were the Hardyz and Lita, who'd brought her some dinner, but even that seemed like hours ago. It was now almost show time and the only valet job Angel had was for Lita in her number one contender's match for the Women's Title.
Angel sighed loudly and returned Head to her place on the end of the desk.
"Cheer up, sunshine. There's no need to be sad now one half of the five time tag team champions is here."
Angel looked up at the most devastating smile she'd ever seen. It took her a moment to tear her eyes away from his teeth and she discovered that the rest of the package was worth looking at, too. He was tall with long blonde hair and he wore sunglasses, an open Hawaiian shirt revealing an outstanding set of abs, and the perfect pair of leather pants. Nice, very nice. But Angel was at work and she had to be professional.
"Can I ask your name?" she questioned, reaching for her appointment book and opening to Matt's notes.
"Let's just say I have the edge over my totally sucktacular opponents."
If there was one thing Angel had learned so far, it was that wrestlers talked cryptically. She skimmed the list and found what she was looking for. Edge.
"Hey, did you steal this from that total nut job Al Snow?" Edge asked, spotting Head.
"Something like that," Angel replied as she read Matt's words.
"Dudette, may I just say that totally reeks of awesomeness. My brother Christian and I have so been trying to do that forever. Hey, you got my grade school report cards in there? What's that you're reading?"
"Just some friendly advice."
"So, what's it say? No, let me guess. Edge totally reeks of awesomeness. He is so the fightingest, smartest and most photogenic wrestler in the WWF and if you get to talk to him for five minutes you are one lucky ducky."
"That's not quite what it says."
"It's not?" Edge asked, offended as he looked down to see for himself. "Okay, let me try again. It says Matt Hardy is a total toolshed and deserves to get beaten by Edge at his soonest convenience."
"I'm sorry, Edge. It says I shouldn't even be talking to you."
"Well, do you always do what those dorks tell you?" Edge asked, sitting himself on the table.
Angel shrugged. "You have to trust someone."
"No way. Here this one guy has this totally truebular motto. DTA. Don't trust anyone. You should look into it."
"I'm sorry, Edge. I can't be your valet."
"Valet? Cool your warrior princess, Xena. I don't need a valet. I only wanted to ask your heinously judgmental self what you're doing after the show. You see, me, Christian and Kurt Angle totally rock the party that rocks the body. Well, me and Christian do. Kurtski usually just has his milk and gets his gold medal winning self a good night's sleep. So, how about it? Or do those reekazoids control you outside the building, too?"
"Edge, you have about ten seconds to leave her alone and get out of my sight," Jeff Hardy announced before Angel could answer.
Edge leaned over Angel. "Look, your dad's here." He turned to Jeff. "Or what, dorkmobile?" he asked, jumping to his feet.
"Or you'll be explaining to your dentist how you lost that perfect smile of yours. Five seconds."
"Hardy, I think you're so forgetting that without ropes and turnbuckles you totally reek of sucktitude."
"Time's up." Jeff rushed at Edge, who stood his ground, ready for a spear. But, just as Edge moved, Jeff changed his course, jumping onto the table then catching Edge with a missile drop kick. They fell to the ground with Jeff punching Edge's head.
Angel climbed over the table and tried to separate them, but it wasn't until Matt and Lita arrived to see what was going on that the fight was over. Lita and Angel held Jeff while Matt pulled Edge away and roughly shoved him. "Get the hell out of here."
Edge gave a little shove back and picked up his sunglasses, which had fallen off in the fight.
"What's wrong with you, Hardy?" Edge asked, putting his glasses back on. "You double your dose of psycho pills this morning?"
"I warned you," Jeff scowled quietly.
"Yeah, well, don't your worry your pretty head, Rainbow Brite. I wouldn't dream of talking to your girlfriend again." He shifted his gaze to Angel. "I don't know what you see in that reekface." With that, he turned and walked painfully down the hall.
When Edge had gone, Angel let Jeff go and silently climbed back into her office.
Jeff walked over to her and put his palms down on the table. "Are you okay, Angel?"
"Yes, I'm fine, Jeff. Just like I was fine before you arrived to 'save' me."
Jeff frowned. "You don't know that guy. He might seem nice enough but he'll stab you in the back as soon as look at you."
"You guys tell me that about a lot of people but you all fail to realize that I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself."
"Angel, we just don't want you to get hurt," Jeff tried to explain as Angel glared at him.
"Jeff, I've got it covered, okay?" He opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off. "I've got it covered."
In the end, Jeff was the one to break eye contact. He threw his hands in the air and retreated to the locker room.
From inside the room, Angel could hear Matt chewing Jeff out.
"What were you thinking? We have a number one contender's match and you're picking fights? What's that about?"
"Fine! She snaps at me, you snap at me. Lita, you want a turn? I thought I was doing the right thing."
"Jeff." Lita's voice. "I think maybe you have to assess the situation before you jump in like that. What would have happened if Kurt Angle and Christian had showed up instead of me and Matt? You and Angel could both have been hurt."
Angel tuned out and was looking for something else to concentrate on, when her eyes focused on Head. She finished unwinding the braids.
"Was I too hard on him, do you think? He was only trying to protect me." She paused and sighed. "You're right, I was fine. If I needed help I could have called for it…" She caught herself and frowned. "You," she said, pointing to Head. "Have to stop getting me to talk to you. It's just not healthy."
* * * *
The show had started. On Jeff's tiny TV, miniscule versions of Kurt Angle and The Rock were having a verbal altercation. The crowd was eating it up but Angel was too depressed to even concentrate properly. No one wanted a valet and Jeff had quickly disposed of the only person who had even stopped for a friendly chat. She heard footsteps in the hallway and looked up warily.
"Hi Blackman," she said gloomily.
Blackman gave her a nod and continued on his way. Behind him, Angel sighed loudly and returned her attention to the TV. Blackman stopped in his tracks and mirrored Angel's sigh. He watched her for a moment, making his decision. Finally, he spoke.
"Are you going to be my valet or not?"
Angel's eyes shot up and met his. "You want to hire me?"
"A lapse in judgment, maybe. Don't make me regret my decision."
Angel broke into a grin. She shoved the TV and appointment book into her bag with one hand and picked up Head with the other, as she clambered over her table.
"Thank you so much!" she spluttered. "Just…just two seconds, okay?" She burst into the locker room. "You guys, I have a job! I have to go." She almost threw the bag at Jeff. "See you."
"Angel," Lita called after her. "Who is it?"
"Watch the TV," Angel replied as she left the room.
"Be careful," Lita said to the closed door.
* * * *
"The following contest is scheduled for one fall. On his way to the ring, being accompanied by Angel Torres, from Annville, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 245 pounds, the Lethal Weapon, Steve Blackman."
Blackman raised his hands and hit his fighting sticks together as Angel walked next to him, carrying both Blackman's bag of 'toys' and Head. In her black pants and bikini top, and with her hair freshly spiked, she was a surprisingly good match for Blackman, and they got quite a pop as they walked down the ramp. Blackman handed her his fighting sticks and climbed into the ring, where he locked up immediately with his opponent, Val Venis.
Angel fixed the fighting sticks to her pants, in easy reach in case Blackman needed them, placed the bag at the bottom of the ramp, and made her way to Blackman's corner.
Venis may have been strong, but Blackman was fast. As he danced circles around Venis, Angel cheered him on, clapping as best she could with Head still in her grasp.
"Go, Steve!"
She would have been lucky if Blackman had heard her at all for in Val's corner, screaming about the unacceptability of violence, stood Angel's enemies, Steven Richards and Ivory.
Richards climbed onto the apron so Blackman could hear him better, only to receive a punch in the face for his efforts.
"Yeah, Steve, hit him again!" Angel cried. Then she realized that, as Blackman's valet, she was supposed to stop RTC from interfering in the first place.
When Ivory leaned over the apron to give Blackman a piece of her mind, Angel was there, leaping like a monkey onto the ropes and catching the ref's attention, before disappearing just as quickly so that Ivory got the brunt of the ref's anger. Angel stood a whole ring length away and smiled sweetly at Ivory.
"Miss Angel, that kind of behavior is unacceptable, do you hear me? And that outfit, encouraging the objectification of…"
"Hey, Ivory. Shut the hell up."
Ivory's mouth dropped open and, mission accomplished, Angel returned to Blackman's corner.
But she couldn't do much about what happened next. Before the ref even knew what was going on, Val tossed Blackman to the floor and Richards started attacking him, leaving him in a crumpled heap. As Val Venis threw Blackman back into the ring, Angel felt her blood boil. Her hands tightened around Head and she suddenly remembered that it was there. It was almost as though Head was telling her, no, begging her to hit Richards. And in that state she didn't need much convincing.
Over at the announce table, Jim Ross and Jerry 'The King' Lawler were complaining about Richards.
"That was a cheap shot by Steven Richards."
"It sure was. He looks pretty proud of himself over there."
"These RTC people think that if you don't believe as they do you're terminally wrong."
"Hey, look over there, JR. It's an Angel."
"Lita's cousin, Angel Torres. I don't know what her connection is with Al Snow, but she's been carrying that Head around since the start of this match."
"I don't know either, but I'll tell you this. That Steve Blackman isn't Mr. Personality but he must have done something right to get Angel as a valet. She's hot. I really like her."
"Well, King, name me a woman you don't like. Nice vertical suplex by Val Venis."
"Ivory. I don't like Ivory."
"That's true enough."
"Hey look, JR, she's coming our way. Hey, Angel, come over and sit by me."
"Sorry, King. I think she's focused on something else. Ooh! Whitesocks is down!"
"Ha! Did you see that? She just hit that jerk Steven with Al Snow's Head! JR, I wonder if she'll give me…"
"No, don't say it, King. What's this? Richards is back on his feet and – no – don't do that! Steven kick to the head and now Angel Torres is down. I don't think she's getting up, King."
"Do you think she's okay?"
"Oh, what the hell do you think? Back in the ring it looks like Steven's got Blackman by the leg, Val into the rollup and come on! That's not right! Right To Censor have stolen this one, King, and you have to ask, how much more does Angel have to provoke RTC? She's not a fighter. How much more can she take?"
"I don't know, but if she is crazy she's not the only one. Blackman is furious in there. He's taken down Val Venis and now he's starting on Richards. Woo hoo!"
"But what's this? Bull Buchanan and the Goodfather. All five members of Right To Censor are attacking Steve Blackman."
"He doesn't stand a chance."
"But look, King. It's Hardcore Holly."
"What the heck is he doing here?"
Angel shook the cobwebs from her head as, up in the ring, Hardcore Holly sprayed all the RTC members with a fire extinguisher. While they were recovering their sight, he jumped to the ground and grabbed Blackman's bag. He kept a kendo stick for himself and handed Blackman the nunchukas. Together, they cleaned house and then stared each other off. As JR said, "There's certainly no love lost between these two."
Keeping his eyes on Blackman, Hardcore jumped to the ground, just as Angel was climbing unsteadily to her feet. He found Head and tossed it to Blackman before he helped Angel up the ramp.
Lita and the Hardyz met them in the hallway.
"Angel!" Lita cried. "We saw what happened. Are you okay?"
Angel was deathly pale and still seeing stars. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, squinting.
"When I get my hands on that Steven Richards," Jeff muttered, clenching his fists.
"Get in line," Angel groaned. "I think I need to sit down." With that, she started to fall. Matt and Jeff caught her just before she hit the ground. As they and Lita fussed over Angel, Blackman and Hardcore stared at each other. Both men of few words, Blackman was the one to speak first.
"Bob, what the hell was that about?"
"Don't get me wrong, I don't like you and I don't give a damn how you like me, but you had two things on your side tonight. Firstly, you were against RTC and they can rot in hell for all I care. And second, you had that girl in your corner and she's become good friends with my cousin Molly. What cousin Molly wants, cousin Molly gets. When that girl got hurt, it meant I was on your side. But don't get worried, it more than likely won't be happening again."
Blackman glared after him as he walked off. He looked down to find that he was still carrying Head. He held it up to his face, then frowned and hurled it into the locker room.
* * * *
Angel was lying on the bench in the locker room, using Jeff's jacket as a pillow. In another corner of the room, Lita was talking to Matt.
"I told her it was a bad idea, Matt. I knew she'd get in trouble. And what happens in her very first match? If I'd known it was Blackman versus Val I never would have let her go."
Angel grabbed for Jeff's arm. "Jeff, do you think you should tell Lita that I can hear her?"
"She's just worried, Angel. We all are. I don't know, maybe you should stay away from Right To Censor from now on."
"Maybe I just shouldn't turn my back on Richards. I won't make that mistake again."
Jeff didn't want another argument so he changed the subject. "Do you need anything? I can get it for you."
"Yeah, Head. Where's Head? Did I leave her at ringside?"
"Her? It's a 'she' now?" Jeff asked, amused, as he retrieved Head from where it had fallen after being thrown by Blackman. "Angel, if you hadn't taken a kick to the skull just now I'd be seriously worried."
"Hey, Jeff Hardy," Matt called. "You ready to roll?"
Jeff nodded at his brother. "Are you going to be okay here?" he asked Angel as he handed Head over.
"I'll be fine. Kick some ass, okay?"
Jeff smiled. "You bet." He gave her hand a squeeze. "See you after we win."
"Angel…" Lita started.
"Go with them, Lita. I'll be fine here on my own."
"Are you sure?"
"Lita. They need you more than I do. Good luck, guys." She placed Head on the ground and picked up the TV.
As they left, Matt patted Jeff on the back. "You okay, bro?"
Jeff got his sick little smile and nodded. "Bull and Goodfather. They might not be Steven but hey, close enough."
* * * *
Matt, Jeff and Lita stepped onto the stage, eyes focused on The Acolytes and Jackie. Right To Censor were yet to arrive. Just as Matt and Jeff entered the ring, Jackie launched a surprise attack on Lita. Lita was quick to fight back and the two of them took it to the ramp, punching, falling, rolling and scratching at each other.
Just when Jackie thought she had the upper hand she was attacked from behind. "Get off my cousin, bitch."
With two against one, Jackie had no chance. But, before Lita and Angel could inflict any real damage, a whole influx of refs separated them.
"You ladies are gone. Go back to your rooms, you're banned from ringside."
"Sister, you are going down!" Jackie cried.
"See you in the ring, Jackie," Lita shot back.
"Well, we showed her," Angel said as they returned to the locker room.
Lita turned on her cousin. "Angel, what were you thinking, flying in like that?"
"She attacked you, Li. What was I supposed to do? Stay back here and say 'oh, she's kicking my cousin's head in. How nice for her'."
"Yes, that's exactly what you should've done. You're supposed to be lying down."
"I'm not an invalid, Li. And you know what? I'm going to valet for your match tonight, too."
"The hell you are."
"The hell I'm not."
"You got kicked in the head, Ange. Even if you're the strongest person in the world, that's gotta slow you down a little."
"You can't stop me, Lita."
"The hell I can't."
"The hell you can."
Lita shook her head and picked up the TV. She switched it on and Angel looked over her shoulder to see Jeff score the Swanton Bomb and the pinfall on Bull Buchanan.
"Well, the night's not a total loss, then," Lita muttered.
Minutes later, Jeff and Matt returned.
"Were you guys watching?" Matt asked. "We've got a shot at the titles on Smackdown Xtreme!"
"Yeah, we saw," Lita replied, trying to be genuine. "Congratulations, guys."
"Are you okay, Lita?" Matt asked, concerned.
"Yeah, only that bitch Jackie attacked me and got me banned from ringside. Sorry, guys."
"Sorry?" Jeff asked. "Lita, that just gives you more reason to kick her butt in your match tonight. Hey, Angel, you're sitting up, that's great."
Angel smiled brightly. "I saw you guys win and I suddenly felt better. In fact, I'm going to be Lita's valet."
Matt and Jeff frowned and turned to Lita. "Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Matt asked.
Lita sighed. "Whatever, you know, I have to get ready." She walked quietly to her stuff.
"Angel," Matt said, gripping his brother's shoulder. "Did you see this man out there? He owned Bull Buchanan, absolutely owned him."
"That'll teach those jerks to mess with you," Jeff added.
Angel smiled. "You guys are the greatest."
* * * *
Lita and Angel were first out to the ring. They smiled for the crowd and Lita even performed her ritual of posing on the ropes. Angel spotted Ivory sitting at the announce table. Steven Richards was nowhere in sight. Smiling to herself, Angel sat on a folding chair at the other end of the table and rested Head on her lap.
"Hi Ivory," she called.
"That's not fair, JR. How do you get to sit next to Angel while I'm stuck with Ivory? Yeesh!"
"Miss Angel," Ivory started. "What are you doing out here? This match doesn't concern you."
"Sure it does. My cousin's in the ring. I thought you'd dig that, you know, being big on family values."
"Well, actually, I think it's fantastic that you're showing support for your cousin, but I don't see why the two of you feel the need to expose your bodies in order to get attention."
By now, Jackie was in the ring and the match had officially started. JR and King decided to let Angel and Ivory talk it out, just throwing in the occasional comment about the match in progress.
"Well, actually, Lita gets attention by…yep, that move there. The Hurricanrana. Go Lita! And me, well, I'' not looking for attention. I dress this way because I like to, not because I have to."
Nevertheless, people cheer you. They cheer because they are disgusting and you look like a two dollar whore."
"That's not why they cheer. They cheer because I give really good Head."
"What?" cried JR, King and Ivory in unison.
Angel smiled. "You guys have met Head, right?" She held Head up for them to see.
"That's another thing," Ivory continued. "Why must you persist in carrying around that disgusting disembodied doll's head?"
"A friend gave her to me. She's pretty cool, huh?"
"She! As if the objectification of women hadn't gone far enough, now an it becomes a she?"
"He, she, it, whatever. I was talking about friendship."
"She makes a good point, Ivory," JR cut in. "It think it's safe to say that Angel's made more friends here in two weeks than you have in your entire career."
"Maybe so, but are they true friendships? These so-called friends allow you to be attacked and carry on regardless, like earlier this evening…"
"Well, we all know how that happened," King cut in as Jackie and Lita fell from the ring.
"Mr. Lawler, please, I'm talking. Miss Angel, the Right To Censor could show you true friendship if only you'd see the light and agree to join us. I'm sure you have a lot to offer."
"You're right, Ivory, I do have a lot to offer." She paused, causing King and JR to stare at her, dumbfounded. "I mean, like I said before, I do give really good Head. Just ask your puppet master Steven Richards all about it."
Ivory's mouth dropped open and she got to her feet, ready to pounce on Angel, but at that moment both Lita and Jackie leaped through the air, knocking Ivory down. The three of them fought as Angel kept a safe distance, shouting encouragement to her cousin. Eventually, the three women were separated and Angel ran to Lita's side.
"Lita, are you okay?"
"Yeah, that bitch Ivory poked me in the eye, though. I'm glad you stayed out of it."
"She never saw it coming," Angel gloated. "It was awesome."
"Yeah, but the match isn't over, so now I have two people to beat on Thursday."
"You can do it, Li. And Matt and Jeff can win the tag titles again. I just know it."
************************************************************************
