Phil ran over to Dolph, who looked like he was about to have a talk with the new Raw GM, AJ Lee. With his best smile on his face, he patted Dolph on the shoulder and waited. When the blond turned around, Phil thought that he would have had a heart attack. Phil took him by the wrist and led him over to a more secluded area of the arena, where they wouldn't be interrupted.

"You know, Dolph, about what happened back there in my locker room… you don't really have to tell Vince, do you?" Phil asked him sweetly. "I can make it worth your while if you keep that oversized mouth shut."

"Do you really think that it will help you to insult me right now, Punk? And, in case you haven't realized it yet, interrupting someone in the middle of their conversation is rude." Dolph spat viciously.

"This is a one-time-only offer, Dolph. My body for your silence. What do you think?" Phil didn't even bat an eyelash at the idea of whoring himself out to the Show Off.

Dolph blinked, obviously impressed. "Wow, Phil. I never would've pictured you as a slutty, desperate whore."

"No. Not desperate. In case you didn't remember, you wanted me." Phil said. "I don't need anyone but my baby."

Dolph looked at him oddly. Since when was the title 'his baby'? "You'd really whore yourself out just so that I wouldn't tell Vince that your cutting your body into mince meat?"

Phil didn't even look fazed at the left-handed comment. "Do we have a deal or not, Dolph? I don't have all day."

"Fine." A sinister smirk came over Dolph's face. Maybe a mentally unstable WWE Champion could work in his favor after all. "I'll maintain my silence and you'll be my personal bitch."

Now, contrary to what many believed, Dolph did use his brain… sometimes. He knew that Phil was more than a little mentally unstable, but that came with the territory. Maybe this was Phil's way of staking his claim in the WWE Universe. But he wasn't blind and he certainly wasn't naïve. This false sense of security that he had created for Phil would allow him to see just how deep the scars ran. If he couldn't help him, then he would find someone who could.

Well, that Show Off had really done it. He had taken Phil as his own and wasted no time in flaunting the fact to the entire locker room. Anger and sadness boiled inside of Chris, but what could he do about the matter? As much as it hurt to admit, he and Phil were over, and his baby had already moved on to Dolph. But something seemed a little off about the situation; Phil seemed to keep his eyes on that damn belt whenever the two were together, rather than on the Showoff himself.

Chris hadn't been watching where he was walking and found himself collide right into Kofi. The high-flyer glared at him angrily.

"Remember what I told you a little while back?" Kofi said angrily. "Look at what you've done to him! I have every good intention to beat the piss out of you right now…"

"I didn't do shit to him," Chris said boldly. "If anything, he's at fault here. He stopped talking to me, dumped me, and kicked me out of his life. You don't think I tried to make things better?"

Kofi's anger melted away and concern took its place. "What's making him act all… weird? It must be something big if he's with Dolph…"

"Yeah, no shit," Chris mumbled, upset. "I don't know what to do anymore. All he cares about is that belt."

"I find that a little hard to believe," Kofi said slowly. Chris narrowed his eyes at one-half of the tag team champions.

"Just listen to him for five minutes and you'll know what I'm talking about."

As if on cue, Dolph circled the two of them by Chris again. Phil stared at his belt and murmured to it lovingly. Dolph gave the two of them a cocky glance before he led Phil off somewhere. Chris looked at Kofi, who looked somewhat stunned.

"That's not Phil," Kofi finally said. "I don't even know who that is. And, quite frankly, I don't like him."

"Do you think Blondie knows anything?" Chris wondered aloud. "I know Phil's not exactly Phil, but there's no way in hell he'd ever be associated with the little douche."

"He could know something," Kofi said. "Why don't we try to find out?"

"Alright," Chris sighed finally. "At this point, nothing can hurt to at least try."

Phil stared down at his WWE title, his baby. "I told you that I wouldn't let anyone take you away from Daddy. You're mine and I won't lose you. Not to John. Not to Big Show. And certainly not to Vince McMahon."

In order to fulfill his end of the promise, Phil had booked a hotel room for himself and Dolph. At first, he had been a little startled at the fact that it had been so easy to make Dolph forget the fact that he had threatened him with a knife, but then, Dolph was a lot like a sex-crazed, horomonal teenager. At the very mention of Phil's ass, the man had practically swooned.

Phil sat on the floor in the bathroom, the knife in his hand. However, he had no inclination to harm himself. He was confused by this, but simply shrugged his shoulders. It didn't really matter either way. He was still the WWE Champion, he had still won his match on Raw... but John Cena had disrespected him, hadn't he? Well, Phil would have to remedy that.

"Phil!" Dolph knocked on the door to the bathroom. Phil rolled his eyes and tucked the knife away. He didn't want the blond to have another spazz attack. "C'mon, it's time for bed."

Who did the blond think he was, his mother? Nevertheless, Phil rose to his feet and walked out of the bathroom before Dolph could knock again. "Yeah, here I come."