"We could ask you the same thing," Shawn growled back, not happy at all to see Shane McMahon waltzing towards them. Did Shane know that Randy and Shawn knew what he had done to Trish? Of course not. In his eyes, he did nothing wrong. To Shane, it was a man's right to take what he wanted from a woman. A woman had no right to contradict him.
Shane believed himself to be a warrior when it came to women. He came, he saw, he conquered.
What an asshole.
"Why would you ask the reasons I am here?" Shane asked. "My father works here, so maybe I am visiting him. Besides, I am a very important person in this company; way more important that the likes of you, so why don't you two just leave."
"I've done more for this business than you ever will, kid," Shawn grumbled, stepping up close to Shane's face. He was getting angry and he wasn't about to let some snot nosed kid boss him around.
"Back off, Shawn," Randy said, trying to get Shawn away from Shane. Randy didn't want the other two guys instigating a fight. He could get in trouble by association.
"Oh, look who it is, Shawn. It's your little buddy, Randy Orton. The third generation Superstar of destiny, is that what you're calling yourself now?" Shane asked, laughing at Randy's expense. "Why don't you just go and cry to your daddy to get more title shots, okay?"
That surely lit a fire under Randy. Did his dad meander his way around Vince to get title shots for his son? No, he did not. Randy earned those on his own. In any other circumstance, he would have beaten the holy hell out of Shane McMahon. If it weren't for the warning glares that Shawn was giving him…
Shane McMahon would be a dead man.
"At least I'm not—" Randy started, but he was then cut off by Shawn smacking him in the arm. Randy was going to say, "At least I'm not a rapist," but Shawn cut him off just in the nick of time. Shane didn't know that anyone else but Trish knew about what had taken place that day in July.
"At least you're not what, Randy?" Shane asked, teasing Randy. Shane was not a dumb man. He understood that in the business of wrestling, management power beat physical power and fan support (or lack thereof, in Randy's case).
Randy didn't respond to Shane's question. Instead, he clenched his jaw and fists.
"Well, if you won't answer it, I will. I know what you're not, Randy. You're not better than me. I am better than you. I have a better family than you, I am better looking than you, I have a better job than you. Get over it, Orton, because whatever you're here for, I'm going to make sure you don't get," Shane explained.
"Really, Shane? Well, it just so happens that Randy already got his time off. That's why we are here," Shawn said, interrupting the possible altercation between Randy and Shane. Shawn knew that Randy had a short temper, and Shane was just the person to pull the trigger and start an Orton outrage.
"Is that right? Well, maybe I'll just tell my father that I caught Randy smoking the reefer again and I'm sure he'll revoke that privilege," Shane sneered.
This time, it was Shawn that stepped up to Shane. "Do that, and I'll be sure to let your father know your biggest secret."
"Shawn!" Randy gasped. He didn't think they were going to let Shane know that they knew. They didn't even tell Vince as they anticipated that they would have to.
"Really, Shawn? Would you like to tell me what my biggest secret is?"
Shawn only smiled at the younger and evil man in front of him. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Are you on drugs, man?" Randy asked, smacking his forehead.
"Come on, Randy. We have to pack for the flight tonight," Shawn said. Randy didn't argue with Shawn; he simply left with him, leaving Shane standing in the hallway, confused.