Awful Pleasure

Terribly Pleased

I hate Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley. I really do. She's a whiny little bitch with no way except her own. God, I hate people like that. I hate Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley.

She knew the way I felt about her. She called me a schizophrenic when I told her some days I want to grab her by her face and kiss her; and some days I wanted to grab her by the neck and swing her.

Believe me, she loved it when I told her I wanted to kiss her. She loved it when I did kiss her. She absolutely devoured it all.

I tried to meet her one-day, after a Smackdown taping. She shook her head no, pushed me away and kept walking, muttering something about Hunter. It hurt. She knew I was hurt. She smirked. That little bitch.

But her evilness turns me on, and it makes me even interested to what to know her. It makes me intrigued because I want to see what she has in store for me, week after week. She has me eating out of the palm of her hand. I hate to be controlled.

Right now, I am outside the arena, leaning up against the walls of the Continental Airlines arena. I am waiting for her. I see her smile that wonderful smile of hers at RVD, and then she stops when she sees me.

"What do you want?" She asks. I shrug. "Lovely night, isn't it?" She glares at me. "What do you want? I don't have time for this. I am a very busy woman with the--"

"Alliance," I finish her sentence. She looks like pained, but then nods softly. "Yes. And I have to deal with the champions and shit like that. You know what it's like to be a champion, right? Oh wait, you don't…" She trails off.

I eye her angrily. "No Mercy," I say, "the gold will come back home," I grit my teeth. She shrugs. "Keep telling yourself that." I nod. "I do."

She yawns and checks her watch. "Great…Nine thirty. Yanno, I should have been in bed hours ago." She walks to her limo, and then stops. She expects me to follow. "You're not coming." It's more of a statement than a question.

I cock my head to the side and grin. "You don't seem like you want me to follow you." She shrugs. "Don't want to break tradition, though." I chuckle.

"You're a little tease, you know that right?"

"I take pride in that title."

"I am sure you do."

She grins and walks back to her limo. I have no choice but to follow. "Your place or mine?" I wink. She didn't take it as a joke. "I am not that kind of woman." She states firmly. She sees my mouth open. "Don't answer that." She runs her tongue over her lips for a split second, and continues to her limo.

"I'll see you tomorrow," She adds quickly. She gets into the car, and slams the door in my face. She yells at the driver and they speed off into the night.

God, I hate Stephanie McMahon Helmsley. And that is true.