Ronda had hoped that when she walked back through the curtain, all would be forgiven, thanks to how well the ending of the match had gone over. As far as she was concerned, having Devon covered in blood had made it all look so much better. However, when she did walk through the curtain, she saw that there was going to be no reprieve for her latest blatant disregard of a direct order. The boss was standing there waiting for her with a very angry expression on his face.
"Let's go have a chat," Hunter growled at her.
No one within earshot believed that a chat was going to be what happened, least of all Ronda. She followed behind him as he marched along the hallway, trying to use the time to think of something to say if he started to lose his cool. Something told her that going on the offence about it being sexist to allow the men to bleed, but not the women would be a bad idea. She was ten feet behind Hunter, but she could sense the anger radiating from him. To her, it seemed like a major over-reaction to the fact that she hadn't invited the ringside doctor into the ring to wipe Devon's face with a hand towel.
Ronda was still wearing the latex gloves that she had put on in the ring. She pulled the first one off her left hand as she followed Hunter into his office, walking past him as he held the door open. Next, she noticed that some of Devon's blood had gotten onto the glove on her right hand, but then her attention focused fully on Hunter as he banged the door closed loudly behind her. Turning to look at him, she saw that he was standing between her and the door. The message was obvious: you're going nowhere until I'm finished with you.
"Why bother?" Hunter began as Ronda pulled the other glove off and stuffed them both into the pocket of her black pants - standard issue for a WWE referee. "You're the fucking doctor, right? Why don't we get Devon in here so you can examine her?"
Again, Ronda managed to make herself avoid saying something she would regret, this time something sarcastic. "Look, I asked her is she was good and she said she was, okay?"
"No! Not fucking okay!" Hunter exploded, his cheeks reddening in anger. "I told you to get the doctor in the ring. When I tell you to fucking do something, you do it!"
"You don't have to swear at me," Ronda said sulkily.
"What should I do then?" Hunter demanded, still shouting. "Maybe I should have sat down with you before the show? Oh wait, I did! Or maybe I should try getting you directly involved in the creative for your own storylines? Oh wait, I did that too! What's next, do you want me to come up with a way for you produce your matches in the back as they happen? Sorry, but that's not fucking possible!"
Ronda had backed away slightly, surprised by the intensity of his anger. "Stop shouting, please. I'm sorry, okay?"
"Not okay, not fine, not alright, not acceptable!" Hunter yelled back, but then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming himself slightly. He was able to continue at something closer to a normal volume, but his anger was still more than obvious. "Not okay. You're only sorry because you're getting yelled at. You walking around thinking you can do whatever the hell you want when you're on WWE time, my time, is not okay. Tell me, when whoever it is that you deal with at Adidas calls you and tells you to do something, do you fuck them around, or do you go and do it?"
"I do it," Ronda mumbled, looking down at the floor.
"So what's different about working for them compared to working for WWE? I'd really love to hear you tell me. And look at me when I'm talking to you."
Forcing herself to look up at him, Ronda nervously rubbed at her forehead with her hand. "I don't know," she shrugged weakly.
"Don't you?" Hunter replied sarcastically. "I do. Let me tell you then. Nothing, that's what's different. Fucking nothing. You don't fuck Adidas around because you know how they would deal with you. They might let you off with it the first time, but they wouldn't hesitate to pull their sponsorship off you if you started to become a problem. And you know what? That's exactly what I'm going to do."
"What does that mean?" Ronda asked, narrowing her eyes in confusion.
"What that means is, I'm the one who wanted to re-sign you. I'm the one who wanted to push you. I'm the one who wanted to make you the second-ever female I.C. champion. I'm the one who wanted to try for the second time to make you one of the faces of this company. Well, no more. NPD or not, your conduct and your attitude are both unacceptable."
Ronda felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "What do you mean by that?" she asked. She had a feeling she knew what was coming, but needed to hear him spell it out, as if that might make it any better.
Hunter's tone conveyed the fact that his mind was made up and would not be changed. "I mean you're not getting a push, you're not getting the I.C. title, you're not even going to wrestle on my shows until I say otherwise. You're going to learn a lesson you should have been forced to learn a long time ago, which is that no one is bigger than WWE, certainly not Ronda Rousey. You're going to learn how to eat shit and like the taste of it, to coin a phrase."
"But..." Ronda tried to cut in, feeling tears start to well up in her eyes.
"But nothing," Hunter barked, not giving her a chance to say anything. "I'm talking. When my mouth is open, yours stays shut. Not only is your attitude appalling, I think it could well end up being contagious, so you're not going to be mentoring Devon, either. What you're going to do is simple: You're going to be at the shows you're booked on, you're going to arrive on time, and you're going to do exactly what you're told, when you're told, without any attitude. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
Already feeling stunned and devastated by what she had just heard, Ronda was hit by another realisation. She was going to have to explain to Seth, to Maggie, and to Ric, that she had blown her Intercontinental title run by disrespecting Hunter and WWE again. The looks of disappointment on their faces would be torture for her. What was even worse was how stupid it seemed now that she looked back on it. All she had been told to do was get the doctor in the ring to clear the blood off of Devon's face. Why couldn't she just have listened, done as she was told, and fought the battle on the bleeding in women's matches at some other time, in private? At that moment, she knew for sure that she would never disregard an order from Hunter again, or do anything else that would be considered unprofessional by WWE. The problem was that it was too late. She could see in his eyes that he wasn't going to back down on anything he had just said.
"I said do I make myself clear?" Hunter said, getting angry again at her failure to reply.
"Crystal," Ronda said, feeling a surprising sense of determination coming over her. "I'll prove to you that I want to be here, that I want to work for you and WWE. I'm going to get treatment for this fucking NPD thing, and I'll prove it to you. I'll make you think that signing me back here was the best decision you ever made."
The expression on Hunter's face made it obvious that he thought what he was hearing was all hot air; words with no real substance to them. He opened the door and gestured with his head. "Just go."
"What about the Evolution storyline?" Ronda asked, not heading for the door.
"You don't have to wrestle matches for that to happen. Now get out before I take you out of that as well. You'll be informed of your new creative Monday night."
Ronda wanted to ask about her match with Randy Orton, which was only a week and a half away, but she decided to take the fact that it hadn't been mentioned as a positive and leave before things got worse. She hurried past Hunter and out of the office.
Rather than slam the door closed and then put his fist through it, Hunter forced himself to regain his composure and close it normally. Having done so, he walked over and sat down at his desk. Losing his cool and screaming at his employees wasn't usually his style, and he didn't like doing it. But he didn't feel guilty about having done so on this occasion. If anything, it was overdue where Ronda was concerned. There was only so far he could allow someone to push him. NPD or not, fan favourite or not, huge ratings draw or not, Ronda Rousey would get her ass in line the same as everyone else. He had decided that it was zero tolerance as far as she was concerned from this point forward.
Further down the hallway, Ronda had rushed into her locker room and immediately turned her phone on to call Seth. By the time he answered the call, she was crying.
"What's wrong, babe?" he asked, concerned, but also confused as to what could possibly have upset her.
Ronda proceeded to tell the whole story, having to repeat some parts because her tears made it hard for Seth to understand what she was saying. It was when she got to the part about knowing that she wouldn't do anything to step out of line again, but having no way to make Hunter believe her, that she really broke down. The worst part was that she wasn't even convinced that Seth believed her either when he replied with, "I know, babe. I know."
"No!" Ronda snapped heatedly. "Don't blow me off. I'm fucking serious. I swear, I'm going to take whatever Hunter throws at me and I'm going to work my fucking way back to the top. I'm going to get treatment for this bastard NPD too. I want you to be proud of me. I want Maggie to be proud of me, Ric to be proud of me. I want my dad to look down and be proud of me." The tears started to flow again. Ronda's father had taken his own life when she was young. It was something that she had never been able to fully come to terms with, and it was a constant source of pain which she tried to hide from the world. Right now, it was too painful to hide.
"Don't say that," Seth said. "Your dad is proud of you. I'm sure he's always looking down and feeling proud of you."
"No," Ronda said again, quietly this time. "I think he's looking down thinking I can be a lot better than I am. I can be the best female wrestler, rather than just acting like it. I think he's pulling for me to be the best I can be. Actually, I know he is. I'm going to do it, Seth. I'm going to win that IC title and I'm going to dedicate it to my dad. I don't care how hard I have to work to get there, or how much shit I have to eat."
Seth found the final sentence to be a very strange thing to say, but chose not to question it. He sensed sheer determination in his fiancee's voice, and he knew that when she got into that mindset she would do exactly as she said. "Okay. I hear you. I hear you, I believe in you, and I'm here to support you. That day will come. We'll both make sure of it. I love you."
"I love you too. I'll be leaving in a few minutes and I'm flying home. I'll be late, but I'll be there." Ronda said, feeling so grateful that Seth had a rare night at home, and feeling so much better knowing that she wasn't in the fight alone. There was only direction to go when you were at rock bottom: upwards.