Monday 7th January

CelesteBonin: I finally downloaded an emoji app. I hate myself. Why isn't there a unicorn? There's no emoji to express what I'm feeling.

RealSierra: There is this one though (turd).

CelesteBonin: Good one. Hope you're really proud of yourself.

RealSierra: I believe the phrase you're looking for is, 'thank you.'

Alexa turned her phone off, looking up as she meandered through the hallways of the Tampa Bay Times Forum. It was a big night for her; she would be teaming with none other than Paul Heyman, to face Ryan 'Ryback' Reeves. As he was still recovering from his surgery, Punk was going to be deemed 'unfit' to compete and the duo would be taking his place; defending his title for him.

To say she had been shocked when she saw the script would be a huge understatement; she had to go over it several times to make sure that she had read it right. The angle they were doing with Sierra, Punk, Heyman and The Shield was getting good reactions from the fans, but to put her in a high-profile match like that was almost unheard of.

And although she was pleased to be included in the storyline, she was starting to get frustrated with the lack of in-ring time she was getting. She hadn't wrestled a match since she lost her title at Hell in a Cell, which was way back in October.

Celeste was booked to win the Diva's Championship from Eve the following week, with the match being the latter's last with the company. Alexa knew that there were tentative plans in place to have an A.J/Kaitlyn feud after her title win, which meant that she wouldn't be getting in the title picture any time soon.

But, as a Diva, she knew she was extremely lucky to be where she was so she kept her thoughts to herself.

''Yo, shorty!''

Alexa waved at Ettore as he passed her, the man jogging towards the catering area, presumably in search of April and Nick. The big man had made his main roster debut a few weeks earlier; quickly aligning himself with AJ and Dolph and acting as their enforcer. He had been down in developmental since 2009, so she was really pleased he had finally got the call up.

''About damn time.''

She glanced up as she entered the make-shift locker room where they would be pre-recording a promo. ''Sorry, make-up took longer than normal, I've got a huge zit on my forehead.''

Phil snorted, eyes immediately going to her forehead. ''Lovely.''

''Don't look!''

''Well, you can't say that and expect me not to.''

''You can't see it anyway, they've covered it up really well.'' Paul piped up from behind him.

''Yeah, I guess it's better to arrive late than arrive ugly.'' He teased.

''Phil!''

''Leave the poor girl alone, Philip.''

''Right!'' Chris, the director, clapped his hands together loudly. ''Everyone ready?''


RAW

Sierra ran a hand through her hair, agitation clear on her face as she paced around the locker room. ''This is all your fault!''

''My fault? Tell me princess, how is it my fault?'' Paul Heyman asked smugly, stepping into her path. ''If I recall correctly, you're the one who started thing whole thing. YOU came to me, remember?''

''Yeah, I do remember.'' She hissed, coming to a halt in front of him and jabbing a finger at his chest. ''Someone had to step in and fix the mess you created.''

''What mess? I had it all under control until! I find it extremely offensive that-''

''You know what I find offensive? Your hairline!''

''ENOUGH!'' CM Punk bellowed as he walked into the room, slamming the door behind him. ''I can't leave you two alone for a minute, can I?''

Sierra glanced sideways at Paul before returning her gaze to the Chicagoan. ''Any luck with Vickie?''

''No.'' He huffed angrily. ''She said that it was Vince's decision so it's set in stone.''

Last week on Raw, Vince had announced that if WWE officials deemed Punk unfit to compete; Sierra and Paul would be facing Ryback in his place.

She threw her hands up. ''How can they even justify this, it's ridiculous! Neither of us are the WWE Champion so surely it's, like, against the rules for us to be defending it?!''

''I'm not even a wrestler!''

Sierra snorted, her eyes roaming him. ''That's pretty obvious, Paulie. Hey, maybe you can sit on Ryback while I climb the ladder to get Punk's belt?''

''How dare-''

''Will you stop it! Jesus...''

''Sorry. Look, stop worrying, it's all going to be fine.''

''Fine?'' He laughed in her face. ''I'm going to lose my title and there's nothing I can do about it because they've banned me from ringside!''

''You're not going to lose your title, okay?'' She told him firmly. ''Me and Paul will think of something.''


''The following is a handicap match for the WWE Championship! Making their way to the ring first, in place of CM Punk, the team of Paul Heyman and Sierra!''

The pair had matching solemn looks on their faces as they made their way down to the ring, a chorus of heavy boos following them.

''As we heard from Mr. McMahon last week; if Punk was unable to compete tonight then Sierra and Paul Heyman would be defending his title in his place.'' Michael Cole informed the audience at home. ''Punk was deemed unfit and now he faces losing his title, right here tonight.''

''And there's absolutely nothing he can do about it.'' King laughed. ''I think this is karma, Michael.''

''Well, karma or not, it's not really fair.''

''Like it was fair for Brad Maddox or The Shield to cheat Ryback out of the Championship?'' King retorted.

FEED ME MORE!

Ryback appeared at the top of the ramp to a huge pop from the crowd, the man storming his way down the ramp. Paul and Sierra backed into the corner as he entered the ring, the man cupping his hand over his mouth as he spoke into her ear.

''Looks like they're talking strategy.'' Michael commented as he watched the pair.

As soon as the bell sounded to signal the start of the match, Ryback advanced on his opponents with a smirk. Paul's eyes widened and he quickly ducked behind Sierra, shoving her forward as he cowered behind her.

''Oh, that's nice, great team work by Heyman.'' King snorted.

Ryback laughed inside the ring as Sierra turned her head to hit the older man with an incredulous look.

Paul just shrugged, pointing behind her. ''Get him!''

Rolling her eyes, she turned to face Ryback, staring up at him defiantly.

''What are you going to do, little girl? Huh, you-''

His goading was cut short when she moved forward, slapping him in the face. A loud 'ooooh' swept through the crowd. Ryback pressed his thumb to his lip, checking for any blood before he raised an eyebrow at her, letting out a gruff chuckle. Scowling, she reached out to slap him again but, this time, he caught her hand.

''Uh-oh...'' King mumbled.

Her face contorted in panic as she desperately tried to free herself but, before he could do anything, a steel chair was slammed into his back.

''And Paul Heyman, making himself useful for once!''

Sierra smirked as he dropped to his knees, face screwed up in pain as Paul landed another hit to his back. She climbed out of the ring, moving over to grab a ladder as Paul continued his assault on the big man.

''Not a bad strategy.'' Michael admitted. ''One of them keeps Ryback down while the other goes for the belt.''

Sierra set up the ladder in the middle of the ring, making sure it was stable before starting to climb. She was almost to the top when the crowd's boos suddenly turned into raucous cheers. Faltering, she turned her head to the left to find Ryback staring up at her. He had managed to fend of Paul's attacks and threw him over the top rope, leaving him in an undignified heap outside the ring.

''Get down!'' He demanded.

Her hands clung onto the rungs as she looked down at him defiantly. ''No!''

The cheers grew louder as he moved towards her and she swung her leg wildly, trying to keep him away. Her foot connected with his shoulder and he stumbled back, giving Sierra enough time to re-position herself on the ladder.

''What is she doing?'' King wondered.

''I don't know, but it can't be- oh my God!''

Sierra had used his momentary distraction to jump off the ladder towards Ryback; intending to hit a crossbody. But she hadn't taken into account his brute strength, the man effortlessly catching her in his arms.

''Ha! Nice catch, Ryback!''

Her legs flailed and her arms pounded on his back as she was carried over to the edge of the ring; Ryback throwing her over the top rope and into Paul, who had just got to his feet.

The pair landed in a tangle of limbs, the crowd roaring as Ryback started to ascend the ladder that Sierra had set up.

''And Ryback's going for it!''

''We may have a new Champion!''

He had reached the top of the ladder, his fingertips skimming the belt hanging above the ring when the lights suddenly went out.

''Wait a minute... what?''

''What happened to the lights?'' Michael cried. ''We can't see anything out here... hey, it's The Shield!''

As soon as the lights had come back on, Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose were revealed at the top of the ladder, fighting Ryback.

''What!''

''From out of nowhere, Ambrose and Rollins!''

Ryback managed to fight them off, sending both men flying off the ladder, landing on the mat with a thud. He stretched again, trying to grab the belt before the pair rose, but was suddenly yanked down from the ladder.

''And look at that, Roman Reigns!''

The Samoan was quickly sent over the top rope, and was joined shortly after by the other two Shield members. He started to climb the metal frame again, much to the delight of the crowd.

''Ryback's going to do it!'' Michael shouted. ''Ryback's going to do it!''

His momentum was brought to a shuddering halt when Sierra stumbled into the ring, grabbed the discarded chair and swung it as hard as she could into his back. He dropped down to the canvas, knocking the ladder over as he fell.

The Shield were on the man before he could get up, stomping away at him as Sierra collapsed in the corner; grimacing as she held the side of her face in her hand.

''And The Shield, like a pack of dogs... it's all legal, no disqualification's in a TLC match!''

Sierra remained where she was, watching intently as the three men manhandled Ryback, forcing him outside the ring and dragging him over to a table which had been set up over the steel steps.

''Oh my God!''

They crowd booed as Ryback was finally subdued by a triple powerbomb through the table, the man hitting the steel underneath.

The three men stood over him, proudly studying their handiwork before their gazes moved to Sierra, who was trying to get to her feet inside the ring. They shared a look before stepping around their destruction and sliding into the ring, slowly moving towards the woman.

''Now what are they doing?'' King wondered.

Seth and Dean picked up the fallen ladder; setting it back up in the centre of the ring as Roman moved over to the woman in the corner. She stiffened as he approached, confusion written all over her face as he held out a hand, palm up in front of her.

''Is he... is he helping her?'' Michael cried incredulously.

Sierra eyed him warily for several seconds before hesitantly placing her hand in his, allowing him to help her to her feet. He gave her a curt nod before joining the other two men on the other side of the ring; the three watching on intently as she walked towards the ladder.

''Sierra looking to take home to gold for Punk!''

Paul rolled into the ring as she started to climb up the rungs; moving over to hold the ladder steady as The Shield made a hasty exit up the ramp.

''You're going to tell me there's no collusion?''

''No, I'm not going to say that.'' King denied.

''You're going to tell me that Punk has nothing to do with these three guys?!''

Sierra unclasped the belt and took it into her arms, the bell sounding as she descended down the ladder.

''And, winner of the match, the team of Paul Heyman and Sierra! As a result, still WWE Champion... CM Punk!''

''Sierra, along with Paul Heyman-''

King scoffed. ''Does he even count?!''

''Sierra defending the WWE Championship!'' Michael exclaimed. ''Making history here tonight.''

''And here comes Punk...''

The crowd jeered as the man jogged down the ramp with a smirk on his face, sliding into the ring to pull the pair into a group hug. They broke apart, Punk planting a sloppy kiss on Sierra's lips before taking the belt out of her arms and holding it up triumphantly.


As soon as they were behind the curtain, Paul glanced over to Alexa with a look of concern. ''You alright?''

She nodded, gingerly brushing her fingers over her throbbing cheekbone. ''Yeah.''

''That looks sore.'' Phil frowned. ''What happened?''

''I think my face hit Paul's elbow when I landed on him.''

''Sorry.'' The New Yorker looked at her apologetically. ''You should go put some ice on it.''

''It's fine.''

''It's already starting to bruise.'' Phil informed her, raising an eyebrow. ''You wouldn't want to fuck up the money maker.''

''Urgh, fine.''


''The time has come to tell you all something very personal. I keep my ear to the ground and I hear everything everybody says. And for the past year and a half, the words 'pipe bomb' have been completely misunderstood and misused. It doesn't seem anybody in the Universe understands what it means; anybody in this company doesn't understand what a pipe bomb is. Basically, what a pipe bomb is in its truest form, is the truth. It's honesty. You boil it down and then the essence of a pipe bomb is exactly what all of you lack, honesty. Seems the perception of me is somebody who is a little disgruntled and sat down on a stage in Las Vegas and aired his grievances and said 'pipe bomb'. I became the voice of the voiceless. And then maybe my ego was like a runaway train and I suddenly bitched and moaned and complained about respect and how I didn't get enough of it. And then I turned my back on the people. Well, that's a lie. Don't be mistaken. I meant everything I said when I said it. Except the part about ice cream... 'cause I look out here and the last thing any of you people need is more bars of ice cream. But I was shortchanged and I was disrespected, and sure, I could have just swallowed that bitter pill and accepted my position in the company like everybody else in the back, or I could have left. Instead I made a conscious decision and I sold out. To you. To you I sold out, to me I cashed in. See, I created this persona, this rebel, this anti hero that you all love to cheer for because I knew that you all love to cheer for your superheroes. Because here is the truth about Las Vegas, here is the truth about the WWE... it doesn't matter that if you're the best wrestler, it doesn't matter if you're the best talker, it doesn't matter if you're the best overall performer, it doesn't matter if you make the two clowns sitting to my left on commentary look like amateur hour. There is a glass ceiling and nobody is allowed to break it. That's the simple story of this place. The more popular you are, the more money you make. The more you people cheer for any given superstar, the more opportunities you're afforded. Why do you think a guy like John Cena, who has admittedly had the worst year of his career, gets title shot after title shot after title shot after title shot? Or why a lethal grappler, why a serious submission specialist like Daniel Bryan puts a smile on his face and settles himself, belittles himself with catchphrases. Or why a four hundred pound monster, Brodus Clay, soils his hands by touching your filthy, ugly, little children to get in the ring so he can shuck and jive for you. Or why an invisible child, Little Jimmy, is better positioned on the flagship show Monday Night RAW than a workhorse like Tyson Kidd...

Look at you! You're doing it now! You're falling for everything I say, you're playing into my hands... but this is the way it is and this is the way you want it because this is the way you handle it. It's easy, it's simple to digest because you people can't handle anything complicated, you people can't stomach anything interesting. This is the way it's been since the beginning of the time. We're all here in the circus to entertain you. And nobody's ever been able to attain a modicum of success without you.

Except for now.

Until I showed up. I've become the most successful WWE champion of all time. Not of the modern era. No, that's another little buzzword that somebody backstage wants you to say. They probably wanna put it on a t-shirt. But that's the way you get noticed. You don't get noticed until you start to move a couple of t-shirts around here. If I— if I competed in Bruno Sammartino's era, I'd have been champion for twenty years, too. No, I'd have been champion for thirty years. Because wrestling one night a month at Madison Square Garden is easy. I wrestle physically demanding matches on free television, week in and week out. So much that my one year equals thirty of theirs. And I have attained this success, not— not because of you. I am successful not because of you. I am successful in sprite of you.

Now, I'm the most honest man in this building, I'm the most honest man in this company 'cause everybody else has got the same, old, tired crybaby story. They'll come out here and they'll say 'I do it for the people, I do it for all of you. Let's hear it for Tampa, Florida!' Here's some honesty. I watched Roddy Piper smash a coconut over Jimmy Snuka's head and I sure as hell didn't say 'Golly Gee! I can't wait to go electrify the people of Tamba Bay, Florida.' No! Because I don't care about the people of Tampa Bay, Florida.

There are good guys and there's bad guys in this world and make no mistake about it, ladies and gentlemen, I am a bad, bad man and I can freely admit it. But Ric Flair will come out here and he'll cry his one hundred and eighty two year eyes out and say 'Oh, I did it for all of you'. Shawn Michaels can come out here and lose his smile and find his smile, but then in a— in a tearful Hall of Fame speech he'll say that his entire career was just to gain your acceptance. Then a man like Edge is forced to retire and he'll say that he misses competing for people like you. Now, these people, these men are either weak or they're dishonest and they're liars. It's either one or the other. But I— I'm neither weak nor dishonest. I'm the best in the world.

Two types of people on this earth. Those born to be in the spotlight and those born to pay to see the people in the spotlight. Ladies and gentlemen, there's winner and losers. Guess which one you are. You're born to pay to see champions like me, it's not the other way round. And I'll be the first guy to come out here and admit it, I'm honest. I have never ever done this for any of you. There's superstars and there's nobodies. I am a superstar, you are all nobodies. And I'm a real superstar. Those real superstars, hell, if they're your friends, why don't they come out here and give you the millions and millions of dollars they earn? Why don't they lie in your pockets? 'Cause that's— that's not your position on earth.

Uh, I'm being told that we have to take a commercial break. I'm not done, let me explain something to you. Let me explain something to everybody in the truck. We don't go to break when you wanna go to break. We go to break when the champ wants to go to break. Listen up and understand something 'cause the Rock's gonna come out here and he's gonna talk a whole lot. Well, I will now tell you the most important thing you're gonna hear tonight.

You do not matter, you do not matter, you do not matter. None of you matter. What you want doesn't matter.

I stand here on the first RAW of 2013, your WWE champion and I promise you, in one year's time I will stand in this ring on the first RAW of 2014 still your WWE champion. What fuels me is your constant disappointment in your self-appointed superheroes to be able to drag this title away from me. And now the Rock has come back, but it's not gonna change the fact that I'm the WWE champion and I'm not gonna let the Rock tear down everything that I've fought so hard to attain. No, no, no, no, not at all. You know, in 2011 when I defeated Alberto Del Rio for this title at Madison Square Garden, I didn't just beat Alberto Del Rio. I beat the system. And every time after that when I beat one of your superheroes, and I don't care if it was John Cena, Ryback, Chris Jericho, Kane, Big Show, Dolph Ziggler, any of the liteny of superstars that I've defeated, I wasn't just beating them, I was beating all of you. And for four hundred and fourteen days that's exactly what I've done. In your face, jerks. I have beaten you. I have stomped you out under my oppressive boot and I'm gonna do the same thing to the Rock because I don't care if he's back. You all do not get to win. You are losers. You do not get to win. You do not—''


Holding an ice pack to her face, Alexa watched as The Rock's music hit, interrupting CM Punk mid-pipebomb and going off on a tangent of his own. ''Jesus...''

''Pretty heavy stuff, huh?''

A smile broke out on her face when she found Jon leaning against the door frame. ''Yeah, at least this time he stuck to the script.''

She lowered the ice as Jon came to a stop just in front of her, his hand reaching for her chin before tilting her head back to get a closer look.

''How does it look?''

''Well, you're definitely going to have one hell of a shiner.'' He responded, a teasing glint in his eye. ''But, on the plus side, it takes the attention away from the zit...''