Paul Heyman didn't seem to be faring too badly in his 'son's' absence, however. In fact, it wasn't long after Phil was temporarily removed from the main roster that he found a new face to replace him. Curtis Axel, son of Mr. Perfect, had just the pedigree that Heyman was looking for in his 'ideal' client. A third generation superstar with the talent and looks (with a minor drawback or two when it came to his skills on the mike). And he filled the boy's head with crazy ideas of future title reigns and Hall of Fame glory... the same ideas that he'd been feeding Phil, which led to his unfortunate breakdown.

Chris watched from afar as Heyman slowly molded the perfect machine with which to do his wicked bidding. The man was a little off his rocker, sure, but when it came to making money, he knew what to sell and how to do it. With some underhanded influence from the sidelines, Heyman slowly allowed Axel to rise up the ladder to title glory. It was clear to any outsider that Phil was the farthest thing from Heyman's mind. And Chris knew that returning to find that his father figure had abandoned him would absolutely destroy Phil. In fact, it seemed like everything was trying to close in and crush Phil at once. It wasn't fair.

"Heyman!" Chris cornered the pudgy walrus-man after he finished cutting a promo announcing that they accepted Triple H's offer, and that it would be Curtis Axel v. Triple H next Monday on RAW. "Heyman, we need to talk for a second."

Paul turned to him, clearly unimpressed. He'd always felt that Phil could do better, and didn't really understand what the Second City Saint saw in Chris anyhow. "Yes, I think that we do. I've heard that you've been pitching ideas to Creative about a one-on-one match with CM Punk at Payback."

"Yes, I have. But that's not what -," but Heyman wouldn't let him finish.

"What makes you think that you deserve another chance in the ring with my client, CM Punk?" He emphasized each individual part of his name so forcefully, it put visible strain on his face. "Weren't the first two humiliations in the ring proof enough that you can't contend with the Best in the World? You're old news, Jericho."

"I could ask the same thing of you, Heyman." Chris' tone was positively lethal. "I hear that you're planning on cheating Phil out of the MIB briefcase."

Heyman scrunched up his nose, "I resent such ludicrous accusations. CM Punk is like a son to me. I would never betray him like that."

"I'm just going to say this once, so you better be listening." Chris said firmly. "There are a lot of people in WWE who have claimed to be Phil's friend, and then have used him as a means to an end, hurt him, or kept him from receiving the help that he so desperately needed. And if I find out that you're one of them -,"

"What? You'll kill me." Heyman mocked, obviously un-intimidated by Chris' words.

Chris smirked. "No." A small pause, "But I'll make you wish that you were dead."

For several seconds, the two merely stared at one another, unsure of what to do. It was impossible to know whether or not Heyman should take Chris' seriously, but he knew that, when Phil was involved, there was no such thing as an 'empty threat'. Chris would find a way to make his life hell, whether the actual punishment was physical or not. It was almost enough to make him reconsider what he had planned for Phil's little 'rebellion'. Almost. Breakdown or no, Phil was still the Best in the World. And as the Best in the World, he needed to learn that his actions have consequences. And when you don't want to face them... the monster, Brock, comes to collect.

Several days had passed since Chris confronted Paul Heyman when he heard a knocking at his hotel room door. Hoping it wasn't The Shield looking to "put justice into action" or Dolph to run his idiotic mouth, Chris kicked off of his bed and crossed the room to the door. And, standing on the other side was none-other than Hunter Helmsley.

"Good evening, Chris," he said formally, giving a little nod. "May I come in?"

Chris gave him a suspicious look, but let the COO in anyway. He shuffled across the carpet with his sock-clad feet and resumed his position on his bed. Hunter sat at a chair facing him and remained silent for a few moments.

"Wow, Hunter, I haven't seen you this quiet since - well, never," Chris said. A slight amount of sarcasm had leaked into his tone.

"Do you want to face Phil at Payback?" Hunter asked unabashedly.

"Well, that was abrupt," Chris muttered. Hunter fixed him with a hard glare, to which he responded with, "Yes, I want to face him at Payback."

"Are you sure that Phil is physically and mentally stable enough to compete at a pay-per-view event? He'll be released from the hospital mere hours before the event. I wouldn't want him to break further."

"Like you actually give a damn about him," Chris snapped. "Look, if Phil says he will be okay to fight, then he'll be okay to fight. I, unfortunately, have no contact with him until he's released, so if you want to know if he will be ready, you'll have to send him a letter or something. The staff won't allow me to communicate with him."

"Very well. I hope you're right about him being able to handle everything should he agree to this. Now, I just need to know his doctor's name so I can contact them about this."

"Dr. Madison Jamison," Chris responded. "It's been nice chatting, but I have things to do now."

"Like what, drink Grey Goose and scratch your balls all day?" Hunter deadpanned, having shook off his professionalism for a second. He gave a smug smirk before leaving Chris' room.

"Asshole," Chris shouted at the closed door.

Phil was waking up from an impromptu nap when Dr. Jamison knocked on the open door with a fake smile plastered on her face. Come to think of it, she never had any other expression than a fake smile (except when he swore, and then her "we-don't-use-profanities" frown crinkled across her face).

"Good afternoon, Phil," she said jovially. She pulled her arm out from behind her back to reveal a crisp white envelope grasped in her hand. "I have a letter here from the COO of your company concerning a potential business opportunity. I'll just leave you here with it. You can tell me what you think of it during our private session this evening."

As soon as she had appeared, she had left, leaving the envelope on the foot of his bed. He sat up and picked it up. It was heavy and had his name printed across the front in Hunter's handwriting.

Disregarding the regal appearance of the letter, he tore it open down the side and pulled the paper out. He opened it to find even more professional-looking paper now resting in his hands.

Phil,

You have been challenged to a rematch against your twice-beaten opponent, Chris Jericho, at the Payback pay-per-view. I understand your dismissal date coincides with the date of the event. If you believe you will be fit to compete, please let me know as soon as possible.

Regards, Hunter

Phil couldn't help but smile somewhat. Leave it to Chris to be the first one he faces after being in a mental hospital for six weeks. He fiddled with the paper absentmindedly until he saw something on the backside of the paper he hadn't noticed before. Written messily with a dull pencil, Phil easily made out Chris' handwriting etched there. "See you soon cutie pie!" was what it read. With a longing sigh, he fell back onto his stiff mattress and clutched the paper to his chest.

That evening during Phil's session with Dr. Jamison, he wasted no time in sitting down and answering the preliminary "how are you today" and "have you had any relapses" questions she fired at him every day. As soon as she brought up the letter, he sat on the edge of his seat.

"I want you to contact my COO and tell him that yes, I'll be ready to fight at Payback," Phil answered determinedly. After thinking for a moment, he added, "and tell Chris not to go easy on me."