It wasn't strange. No, strange was something like Jeff Hardy's personality. It couldn't be defined as certifiably crazy. That was Perry Saturn in a nutshell, with his "Moppy" and "You're Welcome!". This was bizarre.
"And entering the ring, the lovely Milo!"
"She pay you to say that?"
"Actually, yes, she did," Paul laughed.
Milo was standing in the ring, hands in the pockets of her blue overalls. She had a little hat on, her now blond hair done down the sides in two braids. She got into fighting stance, pushing herself off the ropes, watching her opponent walk towards the ring.
Mighty Molly was nothing more than outraged at the obvious insult to her former personality.
It wasn't that much of a fight. Molly seemed almost afraid to hit Milo, who took no mercy to the little blond's. Fans cried out in anguish as their princess was vanquished quickly, receiving the pin and a near-KO.
"Take that!" Milo spat, heel to Molly's nose. The girl screamed as cartilige snapped.
"Uh-oh, it seems like the win wasn't enough for "Milo Molly" . . ." J.R. cried into his headpieces.
Sure enough, Milo had a chair. Soon enough, Molly's face was a bloody mess of blond curls and flesh.
Looking disgusted, as if Molly had done to herself what had been her demise, Milo stormed from the stage to the back area where several reporters cut her off.
"How does it feel to be one of the WWF's number one heels?"
Milo stopped in her tracks, heels screeching to a halt. "Number one heel?"
The reporters took this as a bad sign and began to give Milo some room to breathe.
"I, Mr. Reporter, am not a heel." Milo could almost mask hurt over that victorious grin of hers. "In a world where you have to be the last one standing, I am not the heel. People like Lilith, and Matt, they're heels. I am a hero." She brushed aside a blond curl. "I'm America's Sweetheart. Not even Kurt Angle could beat me to what I am today. No, Mr., you check your sources on that one. You've got the wrong girl." She pushed past the reporter, heading towards the locker room. There, she stopped in front of Spike Dudley, who promptly ducked to avoid her fury.
"Hey, I was just wondering . . . Could you please get me a soda? I'm just really out of it today. Thank you." A sweet smile took place on those delicate, rose-brushed lips of Milo's as she headed back into the dressing room.
Spike did all he could to keep from crying about how frustrating Milo's change of character was.
Still, Milo looked enough like Molly to make it good for him. As fast as he could, he raced off towards the soda machines.
Milo laid on her bed, groaning at the remembrance of those stupid, narrow-minded reporters.
Especially Coachman. She hated Coachman.
A knock sounded on her door, and a familiar face entered her room.
"Hey, Foley," she called, draping an arm over her face. "Come to stay awhile? Maybe watch a few videos?"
"Actually, I'm here for a purpose today, Milo, not that video games aren't a good purpose."
Milo pushed her arm away to glance up at him.
"I have a feeling this purpose will include blood, sweat, and tears."
"We have a . . . preposition for you. If you prove yourself, you can be a title contender."
The thought of gold flashed hungrily through Milo's mind. "Keep going."
"A handicap match."
"No way . . ."
"It's been requested of you. For some reason, the Undertaker has been studying you very closely."
"Has he?" For some reason, an amused smile crept up on those pale lips. "More, more."
"He wants you to be his tag partner in a handicap match against his brother, Kane." Foley shrugged. "You know this means you won't get hurt as much as you would in a straight match. You're new to the WWF. You could just tap 'Taker whenever you've had enough."
"Where do I sign?"

"Matt!" Edge had a slip of paper in his hand, and he rushed up to the silent couple in "The Hall".
"Look! Look! Our little Milo friend is set to match herself against Kane."
"No way." Even in his injured state, Matt scrambled to his feet to see, growling from the sudden rush of pain.
"Kane? You've got to be kidding," Lilith exclaimed, glancing over at the paper.
"What do you want to bet that she wins by some means of intereference too?" Seifer was right behind Lilith suddenly; she hadn't even noticed he had been there. The blond had been so quiet as of late.
"Yeah . . ." Matt gasped as he lowered himself slowly to his seat.
"Word has it this'll make her a contender for the Woman's Championship," Edge added in slowly and quietly.
"No way. That's my title," Lilith disagreed, shaking her head.
Matt was silent for a moment as he was back on his feet, growling at the pain again. He was limping slowly down the hall, holding onto the wall for support.
"Where you going, Matt?" Lilith inquired of him, following him to his destination.
Matt stopped at a door, fixed with a card that read "Commissioner Foley", to knock thunderously. He pushed open the door after awhile, impatient.
"Hello . . . Matt, right?" Foley asked, looking up from his Gameboy. He was sprawled on the couch, feet lazily propped up on the armrests.
"What's this all about?" Matt asked, falling into a chair, but not before throwing the card at Foley.
"The card for tomorrow."
"I heard that Milo would be guaranteed a title shot if she made it out of the handicap alive."
This was met by a chuckle from the larger man. "Of course. Why not? Anyone that beats Kane deserves a title match."
"But this is Milo. There are better people."
"Like who? Your little Barbie doll girlfriend?"
"Look." Matt was on his feet shakily to try and stare into Foley's eyes. "I want justice here. It's only fair that Lilith gets a title shot too. She's just as good, and I personally think she's better."
"What do you want then?"
Matt was silent a moment, turning his back to Mick. "Why not have a female King of the Ring? The first ever Queen of the Ring? And the one to make it out alive will be guaranteed a title shot against the winner."
Mick slapped Matt on the back - a notion which left the smaller boy on his knees - laughing.
"Sounds perfect to me. Ladies, let's get ready for a spanky match."
"Ohhhhh no!" Matt growled. "No lingerie match for Lilith. She's not a-"
"Great job kid. Did I ever mention I liked your work in work in the 2000 Summer Slam? Great. Yeah, that's nice. Bye."
Matt was scowling as he leaned against the doorway, glancing up at the blond girl beside him.
"You'd better prepare yourself," he said, before heading off.

"And here, entering the ring, is the Undertaker and Milo!" J.R. boomed, watching Milo skip after the roaring Harley in the beat of Rollin'. They rushed into the ring together, Kane entered, and it was a fight between Kane and Milo. Soon enough, Milo was sprawled on the ground, choking in the struggle to breath. Kane began to summon for his finisher, raising his glove in the air, but then Milo was up in some extreme stroke of luck, bouncing off the turnbuckles into a bulldog, scrambling onto the turnbuckles to execute a Hurricanrana. Then, she was rushing to the 'Taker, desperate to finally be able to rest off the pounding, fierce pain in her throat.
She could see the Undertaker's hand now, but then suddenly it was gone and she caught air. There was a blur of black and white as 'Taker spilled to the ground.
Jeff grinned at her, raising his fists in the air. "Go, Milo!" he yelled, and she turned to face the Big Red Machine. Even through his mask she could see the smirk dripping from his features as she was lifted into the chokeslam and thundered onto the mat.
It was over for her, and she laid on the ground, mind fuzzy, senses whirring. She couldn't see, but she pushed herself up anyway. Pushing herself off the ropes, she slid under Kane's legs, launched, jumped over his back, then spiraled off the ropes. Her ribs were aching now, but still she persisted, shoving him into the turnbuckle, slamming his face into the steel before executing a very lucky Frankensteiner.
Both Kane and Milo were down now, gasping for air. Milo raced to try the Bicycle Kick, her leg caught midair and twisted painfully. She kicked Kane off of her, and he was down on the mat, resting, as she climped atop the turnbuckle again.
"And Milo's fresh out of ideas, ankle hurting pretty bad."
"That's gonna need a whole bunch of ice tomorrow."
The Undertaker was scowling, trying to break into the ring, Jeff behind him. Milo shoved aside the pain for a moment, taking deep breaths as she blew a kiss to the rainbow-haired boy. With that, she slammed down on Kane with the Swanton Bomb, and he started in pain. With that, she was racing through the ring, bouncing off the ropes to pin him, legs entangled in his. The three count came, and her theme music began drifting through the arena.
Milo wiped blood from her face, leaping to her feet. Jeff was already racing away, but it was all a matter of catching him when the fans blocked his way. Just before she could get to him, though, she was hoisted into the air by the neckline of her shirt.
"Let him go," came the gruff voice of the Undertaker. She nodded, raising her arms in victory.
"Yeah!" she screamed. "Who's the heel now!?"
"M-Milo? Pardon me." It was Vince McMahon himself walking down the ramp, mic in hand. He was beside Milo in a moment's worth of time, handing her an envelope. "First of all, I would like to congratulate you in this most . . . amazing event. Sincerely, you've proved us all wrong."
"Not hard to do. What's in the envelope?" Milo was brief, sitting down on the turnbuckle to tear open the packaging.
"It's a-- Milo, some patience. It's an invite to the 1st ever Queen of the Ring on Pay-Per-View."
Red filtered into the girl's face. "Queen of the Ring?"
"To determine who will be eligible for a title chance with-"
"No, no, NO, Mr. McMahon," Milo sneered. "You promised me a title match. You didn't say anything about the "Queen of the Ring" nonsense."
"Let me remind you, Milo, that you do not have a place anywhere. Not here in the WWF, not in WCW, not even in ECW. You should be proud of this accomplishment."
"And I am. But-"
"It's not a choice. You either compete, or you don't receive your title."
"Oh, I'll compete, Mr. McMahon." Milo laughed. "But who do you expect me to fight? Trish? Lita? Tori? Am I supposed to be phased by any of this? Won't I without a doubt win? Really, McMahon, I think it's a little unfair to all the other girls of the Federation and the Alliance. I mean, who really stands a chance against me, especially after--"
The arena went dark suddenly, and a guitar started up. Walking down the ramp was an equally red-faced Matt Hardy, yelling at the top of his lungs. A ref quickly handed him a mic before rushing out of the Hardy's way.
"You do know who else you'll be competing with, right, Milo?"
"Well, Matt, I didn't think you could be Queen of the Ring, but I suppose science is at its best right now, and things like that can happen over the weekend, but still--"
"No, that's NOT what I mean!" Matt was fuming. "You'll not only be facing the most elite of the WWF and the Alliance's female squad, you'll also be fighting one of the most prestigious and successful women to ever grace this mat."
"Yeah? And who?"
"Well, someone you should know. Her name is Lilith."
"I've beat her-"
"And I don't mean taking a steel chair to her head while she's fighting off Trish and Jeff," Matt continued. "I don't mean slamming her through a table when she's been paralyzed by another legal opponent. I certainly don't mean manipulating her into submission. I mean an all-out fair fight. And she'll put you in your coffin."
"Let it be so, then." Milo was in his face now. "We'll see who the better woman is."

"All I want to do is go home and die," Matt growled, turning into the driveway of his townhouse in NY. "But I really want to see your match. I have to cheer you on while you kick the shit out of Milo," he said with a grin to Lilith, helping to unbuckle her. "So let's go, why don't we?"
"Let's hope you don't die until after the match then. . . or better yet, not at all," she said as she opened the car door. "And Milo's going down. I'm gonna kill her."
Matt stood in the garage, glaring at the black 2000 corvette that rested there. He was shaking, teeth clenched, and just about to storm in the door when Edge raced out, cell phone in hand.
"Matt. Just calm down right now."
"I'm gonna kill him."
"No, Matt. Just stay here. We have everything all nice and planned out-"
"Oh, I see! He brought her here, didn't he?"
"Matt, just stay there. I'll be right back." Edge had nearly reached the door when three young people filed out.
"We're heading to a hotel," Jeff announced, pulling Iudicium and Milo behind him. "Consider our offer, Edge."
"Yeah," Milo mirrored, too tired tired to think of anything that would scare the shit out of him.
Iudicium simply licked his lips, then continued in the car.
Edge shook that off, turning to Matt. "It's not his fault, Matt. He lives here too. You can't keep chasing him out. All his stuff's here."
"Their offer?" Lilith was quick to the point, Edge's shirt bunched up in her fists.
"It's crazy. They want me to join. Be back with Christian, y'know? But I could never do that. Always the WWF, right?"
"Yeah, Lilith. At ease." She dropped her victim, growling as her cell phone began ringing. Slowly, everyone else's began to do the same, until the garage was a mass of ringing phones.
Lilith flipped open her phone to hear the rush of wind from the other line. "Hello?"
"'Ello, baby. Major kudos to Mr. Fiery Temper Hardy Boy," came the smooth sound of Seifer's voice on the other side. "Listen, babe, I'm riding down the street in my gorgeous, shiny new car and who do I see but the former RTC up to no good. Seems they're swarming over this new Milo/Jeff conflict, and they're out to put both out for good. Now, I'm not sure whether or not to completely go along with this, or what, but seeing as you're the boss and I'm planning on meeting at a very nice restaurant, things should work out just fine. Meet me in the WWF New York. I can't go anywhere until after my match, that's later today, I'm bored out of my mind. Coming to rescue me?" he pleaded in a puppy dog voice.
"Sure thing. I'll meet ya there in a little while," she assured him. "Bye." With those words, she snapped her phone closed again.
"That was . . . Ivory . . ." Matt seemed very bewildered. "Seems she wants us to meet her at WWF New York. Anyone else up to it?"
Edge, being the less important one, and still scared at knowing that Bull Buchanon knew his phone number, remained silent. Lilith nodded, however. "Yeah. Seifer wanted to meet me there too. Huh."

WWF New York was swarming with superstars, as usual. However, their table was with Seifer and Ivory, who were engrossed in a deep conversation before they arrived.
"Oh, hey sweetie," Seifer drawled, grabbing for her hand. "You sit next to me. I don't need anymore macho man figures sweating in my food." He draped an arm across her shoulders, leaning back into the booth. This was much to Ivory's discontent, as she tried to press closer to the tall blond. "Shall we order first, love?" Seifer asked of Lilith, ruffling her hair.
"Sure. Cheeseburger for me."
"Americans," Seifer sighed, shaking his head. He ordered for everyone, then set their menues aside. "So now, the question is: Do we allow Milo to take control of this Queen of the Ring thing?"
"Most definitely not," Lilith put in quickly.
"Yes, but how? This evil little wench defeated Kane single-handedly."
"She's on Speed," Edge replied. "It's obvious."
"She got it from Jeff," Lilith informed them all. "He's on Speed too."
"Actually, we're tested for drugs before we enter the ring. I know, because one time--" Matt cleared his throat as the food arrived. "Never mind."
"So, Hardy boy," Seifer propped his chin up on his palm, glancing lazily over at the dark-haired man. "What's up with you and my best friend? Are we an item now?"
"Umm . . ." Matt was flustered. Why was he always put in these kinds of situations? "Ask Lilith." The blond bit her lip, then shrugged.
"I dunno. I guess we are. . ."
"But you two make the greatest couple!" Ivory imputted her comment a little too quickly, and she was glared at.
"No, no, I agree whole-heartedly," Seifer admitted. "It's like . . . light and dark. Everything is so coordinated. Lilith makes up for what Matt lacked after Jeff left. I think you two should go into the tag business, even if you don't decide to give me grandchildren." Lilith couldn't help but laugh a little.
"Marriage is punishment for shop lifting in some countries and children are demonic."
"You were one once," Seifer pointed out. "Though you never lost that trait."
"Exactly. Do you think you want a couple more Lilith's runnin' around? I think not."
Seifer shook his head, chuckling. "Alright, alright, you win. Let's just get down to business."
And they did just that.

Milo fixed up the black and green stripes that ran up her arms. She was almost nervous about this particular match, though she could easily suppress that feeling into something almost positive. Rage was a nice contender for it, so she clenched her fists and tried to conjure up a person to be angry at.
A few came to mind, but a certain blue-haired fellow struck the amour of her rage quick nicely. Deciding that she was mad at Jeff Hardy today, she began to warm up for her match, pounding a fury of punches into the large punching bag before her.
"Take that, you stupid SOB! That's right! Cry about it! Ooh, you like that don't you!? You sick sonuvabitch, you get off on it, don'tcha? Yeah, I'll give you more. Yeah!"
The door swung open and Milo, red-faced, glared at the intruder.
"WHAT!?"
Jeff held up his hands. "I just came in to wish you luck."
"Oh . . ." The rage melted away, even though it wasn't supposed to. She was speechless, though she knew she should have been fighting him.
"Just keep an eye out for my brother," Jeff warned. "He's all big on Lilith now."
"I . . . yeah, sure."
"And I'll try to have your back too. If anything wrong happens, I'll stick around."
Milo nodded and went back to straightening her arm warmers.
"One other thing?" Jeff asked, smiling down on her now.
"Huh?" she grunted, trying to act oblivious and surprised at his presence at the same time.
"Blue, green and black don't match," he said, snatching away her blue wrist tape.
"Heyyy!"
Jeff stuck out his tongue, sticking the tape in his pocket and racing out of the door. Milo was quick after him, tackling him into the wall.
She grabbed her tape quickly, leaving him on the wall, glaring up at her.
"What?" she asked at his expectant gaze.
"So that's all," he growled.
"Uh . . . yeah."
Jeff cursed, stumbling to his feet. "I can't believe you."
"Well, that's what you get! You took my tape, Jeff Hardy! You deserve to not believe me!" Milo was still speechless, however, and this new 'not knowing what Jeff Hardy is talking about' thing was getting to her. "So . . . yeah!"
"Yeah!?"
Milo nodded. "And you know what else? I don't need your help tonight. I never needed your help, and I'm NOT about to start now!"
"Good. Then I won't help you," Jeff said, brushing off his bare arms. "If it'll make you happy, you can split from our stable too."
"Ooh, sounds great," Milo sneered. "I would love to never have to see you again."
"I know. Sounds appealing to me too."
There was a snort from a couple of feet away. Both turned to see Christian and Rhyno shaking their heads.
"You two are like an old married couple," Christian informed them, turning away. Rhyno looked disgusted, doing the same.
"Yeah, well we hate you too! And you know you're both wimps! Huh!? You both are wusses, that's right! You-"
"Calm down. They're gone."
"Don't touch me, Jeff Hardy."
"Sorry, Milo . . . er . . ."

"And look at the flexibility and agility these two lady contenders are demonstrating tonight!" J.R. yelled into his headphones.
"Oomph!" The wind was knocked out of Milo as she landed wrong from one of Ivory's tired attempts at a move. If only she could gain enough of an advantage over Ivory to execute some sort of finisher . . .
But Ivory wasn't tiring, not like she was. It would be a miracle if Milo could make it out standing. She knew she'd win, but at a cost.
It wasn't until the familiar blond entered the ring that her hopes started withering. Milo was thrown into the corner, looking straight into the endless blue eyes of Seifer.
"Hello, Milo. It's been a long time."
Ivory was distracting the referee. She had a chair in one hand, fighting with him, coy smile spreading like a snake across her face. While that happened, Seifer was pounding Milo into the turnbuckle. Somehow, however, Milo managed to find a pattern in his punches and quickly rolled just in time to the left, causing Seifer to slam his fist into cold, sharp metal.
"Oww . . ." Sliding under the blonde giant's feet, Milo could pull off a spinning heel kick from the momentum of the ropes to knock him from the ring.
"Yeah! Don't interefere!" Milo shouted after him as he picked himself up from the concrete. "It's bad! You get in trouble!"
Meanwhile, Ivory still had that chair, and had moved into the ring. With a newfound glory, Milo grabbed for the ropes, spinning off to kick the chair into Ivory's face. With both down, it was only a matter of the three count.
However, her reign of pride was ended abruptly, as just as her entrance theme started over the speakers, Seifer moved back into the ring to finish what he had begun. The end process left the battered and broken contender weaker still.
However, the match was on. Milo was to meet Lilith for the role as contender to receive the Woman's Championship.
Seifer met Lilith backstage, wiping blood off his fists. Matt and the blond were already ecstatic in the back after seeing what had become of their late friend. Edge had arrived before, and was, as well, watching the match with him. He wasn't quite as excited, but couldn't suppress a small grin.
"Well, it's you and Milo, and it looks like the cards have been dealt in your favor," Seifer updated her.
"You're such a great friend!" Lilith exclaimed with a hug to her ol' pal.
"Yeah," Matt stressed, pulling his girlfriend away from the man. He hugged her tight, making sure to hug her better than Seifer ever could. "I wish you luck. I'll have your back tonight, just remember that." She nodded, giving him a kiss and parting from the hug.
"Thanks, Matt."

Well, the two had definitely covered a lot of area. From the second floor VIP room, to the arena, to the parking lot, the girls couldn't seem to keep each other down. Now, they fought outside the arena gates, throwing park benches and trash cans alike at each other. At one point, Milo even found a mic to beat Lilith down with.
After landing a series of moves off the top of everything imaginable, Milo finally had Lilith down and hurting. The blond would have several cuts in the morning, and blood stung her eyes as she tried to crawl away from Milo's pin. The referee, tired from running after the two girls all day, began to count slowly. Milo made sure to kick him a little to fix him, but only succeeded in slowing the count. Instead, she decided to KO Lilith, a surefire way to win. Taking a garbage can, she emptied the components on her opponent, then bashed her over the head with it.
The audience screamed as Milo was beaten down by three consequetive Twist of Fates. Milo lay on the ground, coughing, and Matt pushed Lilith's body over the girls.
Out came Jeff from the café, bulldogging his brother down to the concrete. After beating him for awhile, Jeff pushed Milo back on Lilith.
He was clotheslined by Seifer, who pushed Lilith back on. Out ran Christian and the Undertaker to settle the score, double-teaming Seifer to slam him to the concrete. Seifer barely managed it to his feet, double-teamed again.
Edge scrambled up as Seifer just barely got to his feet.
"Edge, help me! Let's get them!"
Edge nodded, grabbing a trash can off the ground. He rushed forward, and Seifer cried out as he was thrown to the ground. Edge pummeled Seifer with the garbage can, then raced away as the entire RTC appeared.
The RTC stopped in their tracks when another blond appeared, and the crowds cheered.
Matt was on his feet in no time, his brother's hair clenched in his fists. The sneer was as apparent as the growl that emitted from his lips . . . "Jericho . . ."
Jericho pushed him aside, throwing him into the fountain. Jeff was hung on the fountain ledge. The Undertaker and Christian were having problems of their own fighting the RTC down the street. Now, Jeff had the girls all to himself.
Milo was on her feet shakily, chest heaving with laughter. She had a death-grip on the railing to a bench to keep from falling.
Jericho sighed, hoisting Lilith into the air. "You know what you deserve, don't you?" he cried, forcing her to look into his striking blue eyes.
"Just get it over with," Lilith pleaded.
" "Just get it over with."," Milo laughed, nearly falling from her post. She uttered a suprised yelp when Jericho kicked her to the ground. "What the hell are you doing!?"
"Milo," he accentuated, pausing for the audience to assist him. "Please just shut the hell up!" He stomped on her to shut her up, laying Lilith across the girl. Then, he finished what he was saying as the ref counted. "You know what you deserve, right Lilith!? You not only deserve an ass-whooping, not only deserve to be betrayed, like I was, no, you also deserve a shot at the WWF Woman's Championship, and you deserve to lead us all into victory as the 'dominant female'. So you go there and win, or I'll have to beat the shit outta you, again, and you know I don't like hitting ladies."
"Cheap," Milo sputtered, shaky on her feet. "I should have known you would ALL double-cross me."
"Feels familiar, huh?" Milo turned around, face-to-face with R.V.D.'s blinding white grin.
"Aww, angst has gotten the best of all of us. I'm through with you all! You ALL are just confusing and irritating. You give me migranes." She began to walk again, bumping into Jeff Hardy, who mirrored Rob's grin.
"Through with ME?"
"You're right, Jeff." Milo clenched her fists. "Let's finish this! Right here, right now!"
And, turning, they proceeded to kick their enemies' asses. After awhile, Jericho and Lilith were beaten on the ground, Rob wasn't going to move anytime soon, Seifer could barely blink, and Matt was still laying in the fountain, this time half-drowned. Jeff and Milo exchanged high-fives before moving back into the arena.
Even though she hadn't been granted the Woman's Title Run, Milo still felt like a winner.

"Stupid assclown," Jericho growled. "Thinking that they can just team up on Y2J and split open HIS lip!!" Jericho had been fuming at the small wound for days. Sure, it had turned a purplish colour, but he seemed so freaked about it all.
"Calm down, you stupid, immature little brat." Seifer had taken a swan dive into the bottom of the fountain, however, and his lip was just a bit more than torn. They were all sitting in the locker room, Jericho on one side, Matt on the other, and Lilith sleeping on a bench in the middle.
Jericho was about to talk, but was interrupted by Matt.
"We probably shouldn't let her sleep. She might have a concussion."
"Yeah, Matt. You should know about getting hit on the head a few too many times."
"HEY!"
"It's a legitament request," Seifer agreed, shaking Lilith awake. "Wakey, wakey, Lili. Time for your rematch."
"Noo," she mumbled. "Five more minutes. . ."
"That's right," Matt suddenly remembered something, glaring at Jericho. "You know that we have to finish this someday. And a tag match would be so awesome. Of course, I'll be accompanying her to the ring."
"Yeah, right." Jericho stretched his long legs, climbing stiffly to his feet. "Like she would ask a pretty boy Hardy to be her tag team partner."
"Why not? Beats a washed up Canadian."
Seifer had both of them dangling over the floor by their shirt collars. "Shut up both of you. You don't want to piss me off." Seifer paused for a minute. "However, I would like to know as well. Who would you pick, Lili?"
Lilith rubbed her eyes. "Umm. . ."
"See? Why would she pick you, Hardy?"
"Because I'm her boyfriend."
"Excuse me. I didn't think anyone lifted you from the 'used whore' status recently." Jericho was glaring down at the littler boy.
"Guys, quite arguing, okay? You both are good enough wrestlers. But. . . I guess I'll pick. . . Jericho."
Matt growled, sitting back down, and Jericho grinned defiantly.
"Guess it's settled, then. Next chance we get, we clear it up with Foley, and we fight." Jericho leaned back against his chair, smiling. "It's almost too easy."
"Yeah, yeah," Seifer muttered, leaving the room.