Disclaimer: I don't own Jeff, Matt or anything from the WWE. I don't even own the twenty I won from The scratch ticket anymore.
Matt loaded me into the passenger seat of an already running rented pick-up truck He switched off the radio and rolled up the windows. I glared at him with my best attempt of malice, be he stared me down. The Hardys were unbreakable, of this I was sure.
When he was certain I wouldn't make anymore outlandish comments or make a run for it he pulled the gear into drive. "Jeff wanted to let you know he found out just what kind of match Regal has in mind." He stopped momentarily to check the intersection onto the road. "Basically, Regal's got it into his head that you're not the ballsy kind of girl who would wrestle another woman in lingere. And I have to agree with him on the last part. But - and I'm speaking from experience now - you sure do have a big set of cahones." He took a left into the arena's parking lot. "He's planning a strip-tease contest. You and the other girl are going to give wrestlers of his choosing a lap dance. Oh, put your jaw back in place. Stuff like this happens all the time. He's chosen Adam - sorry, Edge to be your opponent's partner. And he certainly knows how to express his own sexual satisfaction." I noted a bit of bitterness in his voice, but decided not to bring it up. "We have no idea who he's chosen for you, but we prepared as best we could."
I wanted to know just how they'd prepared, but if there was one thing I learned about working with the Hardy's it was not to ask questions and just roll with it. After a small hassle with security, he pulled into a parking spot and we entered through the back of the arena and into the locker rooms. Jeff was there to great his brother in a matching green pimp ensemble. In his hand he held a black plastic bag, the contents which I feared was my outfit for the evening.
"Cold feet?" he asked almost cheerfully as I entered. I hadn't managed to forgive him quite yet, so I gave an indifferent shrug. "Well, you've got about twenty minutes before the contest starts. Man, you should have heard Regal." he turned to his brother now. " He's been trashing her name left and right." he held out the bag to me and motioned to my left. "Go and change. And don't worry," he gave a slight wink. "It's mother-approved"
He waited for me outside, picking at the flaking polish on his nails. When I had changed, he motioned for me to do a little spin. I gave a grunt of frustration, but didn't refuse. I'd buried myself this deep already...
The black miniskirt flared a bit at the end, and the black-and-green mess top scream "Rave!" a little too much for my liking. But I adored the arm-bands that completely matched his, save for the corset lacings on the side. However, I doubted I could even make it down the ramp in the damn hooker-boots.
"Woo! Smokin'" He made a gun with his fingers and pretended to blow across its barrel.
We watched Emily's performance with Edge on one of the monitors backstage. All the trepidation and anxiety I'd seen from her the night before seemed to melt as soon as the music started. Edge seemed to be into his freebie, but it was hard to keep focus on him while Regal expressed his interest as well. She finished it off by gently placing a kiss on Edge's lips, much to not only my dismay, but that of a woman in a wheelchair. This was going to be a tough act to follow.
I looked over to Matt, hoping he could offer a few comforting words. But he held a microphone in his hand and a childish grin on his face. "Bow-chica-wow-wow!" His call echoed through the arena's sound system.
We entered to a modified version of Jeff's song, a version I though more appropriate for a low-budget porno. The brother's crisscrossed each other to greet the fans on either side of the ramp. I was content lagging behind until they both grabbed me. Again, I was practically dragged to ringside.
I ducked under the ropes as they ran for each of the corners to flash their trademarks. I took this time to check the faces of fans. There were many who cheered for me (or was it the Hardys?), but many more who looked like they had no idea what to make of me. When the brother's were done, Jeff wrapped his arm around my waist almost protectively. It only lasted a second before Matt began cat calling again and making hourglasses with his hands. They smiled at each other, enjoying their playtime. I hoped to God it was one of them I would dance for. They at least knew how to play a crowd.
"So what do you think, Regal?" Matt said into his mic. "Isn't see one hot piece of -"
"This is the future of Diva's in RAW!" Jeff interrupted, staring Regal directly between the eyes.
Regal was unamused. "She will have to prove her appeal," he began. "to both the crowd and a rock of a man. Or should I say,...a bulldozer..." He backed off to the side of the ring. "Her performance will be for: You-Manga!"
A heavily tattooed and sweaty Samoan made his entrance. It certainly seemed he'd bulldozed his way through many pints of Haagan Das and pudding pops. This was the freak I was supposed to...well, get freaky with? No, I'd take a day in hell before I'd perform for THAT.
Jeff seemed to read my thoughts. He looked at me while the rest of the crowd (and thankfully the cameras) focused on that monster. His eyes poured genuine sympathy, and yet, at the same time, encouragement. For the first time I could feel his passion for this life, and I soon captured it for my own. The Samoan squatted down on the chair and crossed his meaty arms. He certainly showed little sign of emotion, unless you count insanity.
A new song began, something with a hip-hop beat. I tossed my hair back sensually and bowed my head. When I raised my eyes to his, I gently bit my forefinger suggestively. For someone with little practice at something like this, I sure as hell wasn't going to let it show.
I moved my arms down my sides and then back above my head. I straddled him, while wishing desperately I had a towel to make this a bit more comfortable on my part. I put my arms around his neck, which was equally as disgusting as the rest of him. I threw my head back only to see two Hardy brother's start circling us. They pulled out fistfuls of fake paper money and began showering it over me. Jeff was more generous with his fake cash and was the first to run out. Thinking on his feet, he cornered his fingers and began taking "snapshots" of me.
But the baboon's face never changed. I knew this had to be him playing in character, but he was damn convincing. I sighed, finally putting my full weight on his lap. The music ended and I quickly stood. In doing so, I managed to somehow catch my ankle on the leg of the steel chair. I stumbled, but didn't fall.
Immediately, it started to burn. I knew I'd sprained it pretty good this time. Acting on instinct, I bent down and began to massage it, praying my fingers were made of ice.
I never saw it, but the camera's did. The monster's face immediately changed and his tongue hung out of his mouth. He lunged at me and grabbed me into a perverted bear hug at the waist. I couldn't get up, and he kept me bending. His hot breath panting, I felt his chest expand and fall. The crowd loved it. There were cat calls and lewd movements being made all across the ring. Even Regal couldn't deny it, I was the undisputed champion and the new Diva.
Enraged, Regal grabbed Jeff by the hair and spun him round. "Listen you little twirp!" he yelled, spraying spit across the microphone cover. "You're going to pay for your little shinanigans. You've ruined the entire contest. And tonight..." he paused and I instantly felt the weight of the audience's anxious silence. "It will be you and me in the ring. Fighting for a spot on that ship with that little girlfriend of yours. And there will be no interference."
A/N: Ok, I lied. I really did deviate from the dream a bit. There was a lap-dance contest, but Matt was partnered with me. Jeff just escorted me. But I thought this was much better.