Memphis hurried to finish her late lunch. After eating, she had a meeting schduled with some of the head honchos in Creative, then Vince McMahon himself wanted to speak to her. It had been exactly two weeks to the date since her eventful RAW debut and those few minuutes on that Monday night had quite literally changed her life and career. Instantly she had gone from locker room outcast to the WWE's most in demand official. Vince had clearly been impressed by her quick save of the CM Punk Ted DiBiase . After that, she had been scheduled to referee not one but two matches the following week on RAW. Her name had been trending on various Internet search engines and all the wrestling web sites were buzzing about sports entertainment's hottest new commodity. Even as she made her way down the ramp to the ring for the RAW, Superstars and house shows some of the fans had taken a liking and brought signs with her name on it. They popped for her whenever she came out. What a difference one night could make.

Her newfound popularity with her bosses and the WWE Universe did little to improve relations backstage. The male referees, seemingly jealous and suspicious of her, continued to shun her. None of the talent, male or female bothered to talk to or acknowledge her. Memphis was a lone wolf, even more so when Phil had gone out for two weeks to nurse his injury. For whatever reason they still didn't like her and she didn't know if they ever would but for the time being, she had to put those feelings and worries on the backburner. Her career was blowing up and she knew she had to keep up the momentum and keep striking while the iron was hot.

She had a few minutes before the meeting so Memphis decided to head to the locker room and change into her work clothing beforehand. After talking with Creative, her next stop would be Production to take a look at the card for the evening. Despite no one talking to her and that ominous notion of being the unpopular new kid on the block, none of the other wrestlers had dared try to pull a stunt and throw off a match like Teddy had. They ignored her but their disdain was still present. Everyone knew ribbing was one of the most popular activities backstage and now the jokes had been taken to a new level. Though no one said anything, Memphis was no fool. She knew the sugar in the salt shaker and the hot sauce that myseteriously had managed to drench one of her meals was no accident. Humming a tune to herself, she fished in her purse when she heard her cell phone ring.

"Hey," she smiled when she saw who it was.

"What are you up to?"

"Headed to go change. What about you?"

"Just left the chiropractor. Got some heat therapy and an adjustment on my hip, which I needed after that unfortunate groping incident with airport security last week when I flew back to Chicago."

Memphis just laughed.

"I miss you, Punk. I have no one to make me laugh when you're not around."

"One more week, Dollface, and I'll be back traveling with you guys."

"Awesome. Are you excited about doing the whole commentary thing?"

"Sure. It's a chance to show my more charming side."

"I'm sure," she rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I think it'll be fun. You're gonna do great."

"It'll be different. Besides, now that you're taking over RAW it will give me something to do."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, when you're in there doing your whole officiating thing trying to be all serious and no nonsense and look cute at the same time, I'll be at the announce table ring side picking my nose and making funny faces. Anything to make you laugh."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh but I would."

She frowned.

"Who am I talking to? Of course you would but don't even dream about it, dude. I'm serious. Don't you dare. I'll kill you."

"Ah, you know you love me. I'm annoying yet adorable like one of those little Furby things."

"I'll bite on the annoying part."

"Anyway until then, I am sitting at my house drinking my diet soda and relaxing with my thoughts."

She shook her head.

"You and those damned diet sodas. You're like addicted to them."

That was the truth. Phil Brooks loved his diet soda…Diet Coke, Diet Pepsi, Diet Mt. Dew, Diet Dr. Pepper, Diet Sprite…it didn't matter.

"I'm allowed one vice."

"You should totally incorporate that into your act during the commetary. That obsession you have is actually quite priceless."

"Oh I fully intend to bring my refreshing beverages with me to ringside. The first fool that knocks it over when they tear up the announce table is gonna force me to come out of this temproary medical retirement."

"Seriously, dude. How are you? Is everything okay?"

"I'm good. It's weird not traveling. I guess I miss it. It's the biggest part of my life but the r& r is good, I can't complain. I've seen a couple of doctors too. The prognosis is good. Like I said, it was more of a precaution them taking me out these few months with the timing and all. Once I rest for a few months, I should be back in the ring hopefully in time for Mania."

Memphis closed her eyes.

"Mmmm, Wrestlemania. I know it's a long time away but I can't stop thinking aboout it. I know it's way too presumptious to even think about it but the chance to referee a match there would be way beyond awesome. I'm talking about a real life dream come true."

"Stranger things have happened."

"I couldn't imagine."

"Why not? You're like the talk of the wrestling world right now. Everyone wants to know about that hot new referee."

She raised her eyebrow.

"You think I'm hot?"

"I was just repeating what all the people Googling you are saying."

"But you said it too," she teased.

"You're okay…you know in a not ugly, not plastic looking sort of way."

"You're such a poet with your words," she giggled.

"Anyway, you're blowing up, girl. You know what you have to do now."

"What's that?"

"Open up a Twitter account."

"Oh hell no."

"Oh hell yes," Phil said. "It's a rite of passage. You're a WWE Superstar now."

"I refuse."

"Why?"

"Because it's stupid. Writing little twitters to let people know that I am at the airport, or driving in my car, or just waking up from a nap. That's lame."

"Watch it now and it's call tweeting not little twitters."

"Look at you all sensitive about your little Twitter account. You know, I am outdone that you're actually into that. Kudos to you for giving shout outs and wishing your followers happy birthdays. That's cute."

"Ha ha."

"Just kidding. You know I have to tease you some sort of way. I'm bored without you."

"I knew you loved me."

"Are you gonna be watching tonight?"

"Maybe. I had planned on catching up on It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia."

"You better not. You can watch that any time. How often do you get to see your best work pal kick ass and maintain law and order in a wrestling ring on national television.?"

"Okay, you talked me into it. Danny DeVito can wait. What matches do you have?"

"Don't know yet," she said as she made her way to the locker room. "I usually don't find out until the big Production meeting. I'd like to do the main event tonight. Probably won't happen but a girl can dream, right?"

"You'll be fine. Besides, if you had a Twitter account, I could be sending you charming and witty tweets all night while you're working."

"That definetly sweetens the pot," she said sarcastically as she opened up her locker.

"You gonna stay on the phone with me while you change into your stripes? Kinky."

Memphis opened up her mouth to respond but nothing came out. Instead she stood horrified.

"Shit…" she muttered.

"What's wrong?"

She stood for a second, trying to wrap her head around the scene before her. She was stunned. Pissed off and stunned.

"You'll never fucking guess what just happened."

"Humor me."

"Remember all those stupid little pranks I've been telling you about?"

"The hot sauce and all the other lame petty stuff, yeah."

Memphis bit her lip.

"Well, it looks like some asshole just stepped up their game."

"What happened?"

She looked around the locker room. It looked like a tornado had passed through on her end. Her locker had been jimmied open and all her belongings had been strewn about.

"Dammitt," she muttered. "My clothes…my stuff…it's everywhere."

"Yeah, that's another classic one, the good old let's fuck with people's clothes. Been there done that."

Memphis began picking her stuff up and doing a count to see if it was all there. As she put everything back, she leaned down to pick up her black panties. As soon as she did, Memphis gasped and dropped them immediately.

"Oh my God!"

"What now?"

She was horrified.

"Oh my God, oh my God…"

"Memphis," Phil spoke in a more serious and concerned tone.

"My…my underwear were on the bottom of the locker floor. I picked them up and there's, there's, there's…"

"What?"

Memphis was genuinely shaken.

"There is stuff all over the crotch."

"What stuff?"

"I don't know. It looks like…oh gross. I think…I think it's cum."

"Whoa," Phil fell silent.

"I can't believe this, this is not fucking happening to me," she shook her head. "This is crazy. This is disgusting. I mean, who does something like this?"

"Hold on. Look, I know this is gonna sound weird but smell your underwear."

"What?"

"Just smell…"

"Punk, hell no. That's gross. There is no way I'm gonna smell…"

"No, it's just that I think I've heard of that rib before. I told you to smell it because it's probably just lotion. Of course the whole idea is to make you think it's jizz but it's really not."

Memphis cringed, vomiting in her mouth a little bit as she picked up her underwear by the corners and brought them closer to her face. She could only pray and hope that Phil was right. If it was what she thought it was, she was seriously going to flip out.

"Oh God…"

"Did you…"

She breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"You're right," she exhaled. "It's lotion."

"Good," he sighed from half a nation away.

"I mean, it could have been worse, a whole hell of a lot worse but still. These are my clothes. These are my personal belongings. Where the hell is the respect and common decency? What gives someone the right to destroy my stuff? I find it really creepy that someone went through my stuff and had the nerve to put their hands on my freaking is not funny, just like it wasn't funny when they screwed around with my food."

"You're right, I know. Look, I'm sorry that happened to you. It's definetly not cool. The guys need to back off."

"What am I going to do now, Punk?"

"Is your referee stuff ruined?"

She shook her head.

"No."

"Then at least you're good for your match. As far as the underwear, don't know what to tell you except to wear the ones you have on already or go commando."

"This is crazy," she mumbled. "I am so beyond pissed right now."

"Whoever is doing this is trying to get a rise out of you. Don't let them. As mad as you are Memphis, don't let is show because you'll be giving them exactly what they want. Once you do that, they've got you where they want you. It's petty and childish and stupid but they'll get bored eventually and stop. Ribs are another rite of passage. I went through it too, being on the giving and the receiving end. They are probably just going harder on you because of the situation but trust me, it'll pass."

Memphis let out a breath.

"No it won't," she said quietly.

"Yes, it will."

"No, it won't, Punk. Don't you get it? This isn't an initiation or a harmless prank or innocent ribbing. It's more than that, much more. You hear what these guys are doing, taking bets on when I'm out of here. And that's exactly what they're trying to do. It's not gonna stop. It's going to get worse and this is just the beginning."

Memphis closed her eyes. She felt like hitting something but there was nothing really she could do. All she could do was deal with it, as wrong and unfair as it was. She was on to them. They were trying their damnest to get rid of her and Memphis had a sinking feeling that things were going to get a whole lot worse before they got better.