Disclaimer: We own nothing. We owe nothing either, so we suppose it's all good.
AUTHORS' NOTES
"… and so I told Vince… *hic*… I told him that Ol' Stone Cold - WHAT? - wasn't going to stick
around to see the best persona… *hic*… in wrestling history take a nosedive into… *hic*… washed-
out land. Then I gave him the finger and hit the Stunner on him… *hic*… or was it the other way
around? Whatever…"
Azrael continued to sip her white chocolate iced latte and Pyper316 her Pepsi Twist as they
patiently nodded after every statement Stone Cold made. Austin was stretched out on a chaise
lounge near Azrael's computer in her section of the fanfiction world. At that moment he was
happily popping open another can of beer. They hadn't originally brought him here so that they
could play psychiatrist to him, but at that moment that was what they had turned out to be. But
hell, it was better than doing nothing. So they listened.
"And now he goes around and axes Debra… *hic*… she's got nothing to do with all this shit! Now
tell me… *hic*… do you think that's fair??" he asked as he guzzled down another gulp.
"No, of course not." Pyper said, shaking her head.
Azrael simply took another sip and waited for Austin to pass out from intoxication.
"… I'm not saying that what I did was right. But what in the hell… *hic*... would you have done
if you felt that you were at the… *hic*… fucking end of your rope?"
"Most probably what you did." Pyper replied, saying exactly all the things that she knew the Rattle-
snake wanted to hear.
"Life's a motherfucking hell hole, you know that? Hell, you're… *hic*… smart kids, you probably
realized that by now. You know that it's a blistering cesspool of nothing but… *hic*… messed up
situations and even more messed up people…" Austin ultimately trailed off and lost consciousness.
Azrael raised an eyebrow as she looked over his slumped form on the chaise lounge. "I knew it
was only a matter of time before it came down to this." She commented dryly.
Pyper prodded his shoulder cautiously. "He's out cold." She announced with a sigh. "So much for
talking him into coming back to the WWE. Vince is going to be disappointed that we failed."
"Darn, that would have been another ten grand for us." Azrael groaned. She glared accusingly
at Pyper. "This probably wouldn't have happened if you hadn't suggested that we give him beer
from the start."
"I thought it would make him comfortable!" Pyper defended herself. "I didn't know that it would
make him THIS comfortable!!"
Azrael sighed again and waved it off. "Eh, what's done is done anyway, it can't be helped. The
question now is what in the hell do we do with him?"
"We can get someone to move him, I guess."
"Great idea. You go find that someone."
"Huh? Why me?" Pyper complained.
"Because you suggested it."
Grumbling to herself, Pyper stood up and walked off, leaving momentarily to find someone she
could manipulate or blackmail into helping them out.
Azrael, in the meantime, was given no peace of mind as the moment Pyper was out of sight she
heard someone clear his or her throat impatiently behind her. Annoyed, she swiveled her chair
around.
"All right, Israel, we have to talk." Chris Jericho said sharply the moment she looked at him.
"Do I look like a fucking country to you?" she snapped at him.
"With the way you eat, you'll grow big enough to be called on in three months, tops." Jericho r
etorted.
Azrael colored and put down her iced latte. "All right, I'm a pig, point taken." She said crossly.
"Now what do you want??"
"Simple." Jericho said as he moved over to sit on the chaise lounge. "I want to know… WHOLLY
CRAP!" he exclaimed, when he saw the settee's occupant. "What in the hell is he doing here??"
"That's beside the point, but if you must know he passed out after one too many of these." Azrael
said, holding up an empty can of beer. She shot it into the already full trashcan, so in effect she
just succeeded in knocking a few cans out of it. Azrael sighed.
Jericho made a noise of disgust. "This guy's got to quit drinking."
"Try telling that to him." Azrael commented, standing up.
"Hey Azrael, I'm back. I don't know if you'll take this as good news, but…" a returning Pyper cut
herself off in mid-sentence when she saw who Azrael was standing with.
"Oh shit." Azrael muttered.
Pyper let out an ungodly shriek of delight and zipped towards them. "CHIRS
JERICHOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" she called out, running for him with her arms wide open. Before she
could actually glomp his arm or any other accessible part of his body, Azrael's hand shot forward
and grabbed her by the back of her collar.
"Pyper…" Azrael said in a warning tone.
"Let me go… must get to Jericho…" Pyper whimpered, straining against Azrael's grip. Her finger-
tips were flailing inches away from a stunned Chris Jericho. "Must give him hug… it's Jericho…"
"Oh, shit." Jericho echoed.
"Pyper." Azrael repeated, more firmly this time. "I thought we talked about this? If you have
any more Jericho-induced hysterical outbursts, the nice men in white coats will take you away
in a straightjacket. Do you want that to happen?"
"No." Pyper said meekly, ceasing her struggles.
Jericho lifted his head and looked behind them. "Hey Azrael, I think she brought company."
He suddenly said with a snicker.
Azrael turned, then looked up. Two incredibly large and almost identical men looked back at
her. She cleared her throat. "May I help you?"
"You Azrael?" one of them asked. When she nodded, he spoke again. "She told us that there
would be some money in it for us if we helped you out." He said, indicating Pyper. "She better
not have been lying." He followed up dangerously.
Azrael looked at Pyper. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"
Pyper grinned. "Oh yeah. I believe you know Rose and Jamal. They're the ones I managed to
sucker… I mean, get to help us with our little Rattlesnake problem."
"For a fee." Jamal, the one who had spoken earlier, cut in.
"Right, whatever." Azrael said. "You two want to add in a couple of more bucks? Hold this for
me." She pushed Pyper over to them, and they held her back willingly enough.
Jericho waited for her to turn back to him before resuming their conversation. "All right, back
to what I was saying." He said, making her groan. "Whose brilliant idea was it to make Trish
Stratus spill freezing cold mango juice all over my pants??"
"Oh, that." Azrael said disinterestedly. "You'll have to take that up with deadgirlwalking8. "It
was her idea, I just used it."
"I think I will." Jericho growled. "And how about putting me in Kurt's stupid pants?"
"That would be me." Azrael said, taking her seat again.
"Have you some pathetic mission in life to make me miserable??" Jericho demanded. He turned
to Pyper. "You, you're a Jerichoholic. Why didn't you stop her??"
"She wrote it and posted it behind my back, I swear!" Pyper burst out. "I'll do anything to make
it up to you! Want me to kill her for you? I can do that." She said eagerly.
"Pyper, the nice men in white are one call away." Azrael said calmly.
"I'll be quiet." Pyper said quickly. Rose and Jamal exchanged disturbed looks.
Jericho turned back to glaring at Azrael. She sighed. "Look, just be glad that I didn't go with
my original idea of hooking you and Trish up together."
Jericho made a gagging noise. "God forbid. What made you change your mind?"
Azrael went back to sipping her drink. "I thought about it and realized that if I did do it, I would
be clobbered by Pyper, a bunch of female Jerichoholics and every Smoochy Dreamer fan in
existence."
"Amen." Pyper nodded her head."
"Smoochy Dreamers? Wait a minute, that sounds familiar…" Jericho pondered.
"Now, if I've answered all your questions, I'd like to ask you to leave now." Azrael told Jericho,
tapping him on the leg.
Jericho snapped out of his thoughts. "Are you giving me an order, Ariadne?" he sneered. "Because
I don't respond too well to those. Listen, Y2J does what he likes and comes and goes as he pleases,
you got that?"
"Oh, so you're talking in third person like the Rock now?" Azrael said dryly.
"I think it's adorable." Pyper said dreamily.
Azrael rolled her eyes, but then an evil smile crossed her face. Jericho didn't like the look of it,
but he succeeded in feigning that it didn't get to him. Azrael addressed him. "Then let me re-
phrase that. If you don't get your ass out of my workspace, I'll set her loose on you." She said,
cocking her head towards Pyper.
"Really??!" Pyper asked enthusiastically.
Jericho's eyes widened. "You wouldn't…"
"Oh, wouldn't I? Gentlemen, you can let her go now." She said to Rose and Jamal, all the while
still smiling at Jericho.
He Island Boys shrugged, then let go of Pyper and stepped away. Pyper let out of another
semi-mad shriek of glee and tore off in Jericho's direction. Jericho, in turn, gave a scream of
his own and raced off into the distance, Pyper close at his heels.
Azrael watched them go for a moment before turning her attention back to Rose and Jamal.
"Well, now that's settle, let's get to business." She pointed to Stone Cold on the chaise lounge.
He had remained blissfully asleep and had even started to snore. "Transfer him out of here,
please. To the arena, to his truck, to Debra, I don't care. Anywhere but here."
"Could you be more vague?" Rose asked sarcastically.
"Could you take any longer?" Azrael snapped. "Just do it, now. We'll talk about the pay after."
"Why after?" Jamal almost whined.
"Whoever heard of being paid before the job was done?" Azrael reasoned.
Grumbling, the two men walked over to the sofa and on the count of three heave the unconscious
Stone Cold Steve Austin onto their shoulders. "The momeny better be here when we get back."
Rose said in a gruff voice.
"Mm-hmm." Azrael said neutrally, looking at her nails. She waved them away and they left in
the opposite direction that Jericho and Pyper had gone off to.
It was quiet again for a while, then a loud voice broke through the silence. "AZRAEL!!"
Azrael jumped and turned, but quickly relaxed when she saw the smiling redhead make her way
to the place. She smiled herself and waved her over. "Lita!"
Lita reached her and sat down on the arm of the vacated chaise lounge. "Hey, took me nearly
forever to find this place! But I've got everything right…" Lita trailed off as she caught sight of
the mess around. "Why are there beer cans all over the place?" she finally asked.
"Austin was here." Azrael said simply.
"That explains a lot."
"That neck brace doesn't hurt, does it?" Azrael asked, not being able to resist bringing it up.
Lita brought a hand up to her neck to touch it. "Not so much as uncomfortable." She said with
a sigh. "I can't get used to it, but it's not like I want to, anyway." Her face brightened up as
she changed the subject. "Well, back to what I was saying." She pulled out an envelope from
her back pocket. "I've got all the pictures, right here." She handed them to Azrael.
Azrael burst out laughing the moment she saw the first one. "Girl, I definitely have to have a
copy of this." She said, holding up the one of Jeff snuggling up to Matt.
Lita grinned. "That's one of the more popular ones."
Disappointed mumbling interrupted the two girls. They looked up to see Pyper sullenly making
her way over to them. "He got away." She announced tearfully to them as she flopped down
to the floor.
"Who got away?" Lita asked with an amused expression on her face.
"Jericho." Pyper said mournfully. "The only thing I managed to get from him was this." She
produced a torn scrap of clothing that Azrael realized had been part of Jericho's shirt.
"Jesus Christ, Pyper, I should turn you over to the pound as a rabid dog." Azrael told her bluntly.
"Cheer up, Pyper." Lita said, noticing that Pyper's glum expression didn't change, even after
Azrael's insult. "Here, I've got something here that I know you'll like." She picked out a picture
from the stack that Azrael had been holding and handed it to Pyper.
Pyper looked at it. "It's Jericho in Kurt Angle's dorky pants." She said. A tiny smile lifted up the
corners of her mouth. "He really did look dumb in those. Don't tell him I said that!" she said
immediately to Azrael, who looked innocently back at her.
"It gets better." Lita told her with a wide grin. "Jericho thinks that I burned all my copies of
that. He doesn't know about this one. Next time you see him, you can blackmail him with it
to get him to stick around."
Pyper gave a squeal of delight and threw her arms around Lita. "Ohmigosh, Lita, thank you!!
Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you so much!! You're a genius!!"
"I love it when people call me that." Lita said with a grin as Pyper finally let her go.
"A-ha! Citizens Azrael and Pyper!"
"Oh dear Lord." Azrael groaned.
"Oh come on, the Hurricane's not so bad." Pyper defended, seeing the green superhero-
wannabe come walking towards them.
"Maybe, but I could have done without him right now." Azrael complained.
The Hurricane strutted up to them, then stopped and struck a pose, something all three girls
had a feeling he didn't intend to do. Force of habit, they supposed. "Hello, ladies." He greeted
them.
"Great, now he thinks he's Val Venis." Azrael muttered.
"Did he say it like he was a former porn star?" Lita hissed at her. "Let the guy talk."
"It has come to my attention that you two, Pyper and Azrael, were the pilot and co-pilot of
our flight respectively, is that right?" Hurricane asked.
"That would be correct." Pyper answered.
Hurricane was about to continue when he looked around suspiciously. "Have you all been drink-
ing?" he asked, surveying the area."
"Austin was here." Lita said, repeating Azrael's statement from earlier.
"Oh." Hurricane said.
"So what's up?" Pyper asked.
"I'm here as a representative of a majority of WWE superstars to let you know that we did not
feel that the both of you were equally qualified to fly that plane and henceforth put our lives in
serious jeopardy." Hurricane said in one breath.
"In other words, you are the sucker whom everybody else got to send their complaints through."
Azrael said in a bored voice.
Hurricane thought about it. "That's may be another way to put it."
Azrael sighed and sat back. "Well, bring it on."
The Hurricane pulled out a roll of paper from his pocket and rolled it out. At its full length the
bottom part hit the floor and both Azrael and Pyper gave collective groans while Lita laughed.
"On second thought, just the first five." Azrael said, rubbing her temples.
"But what about the others?" he asked.
"Have them send it to us via e-mail." Azrael replied, with every intention of deleting them and
claiming that they never got it.
Hurricane, not knowing this, nodded and began to read. "First off, Rikishi wants to know how you
got it into your head to get him stuck in an airplane toilet stall."
"I heard a comedian joke about it once, a pretty big guy himself." Azrael said to him, looking up
into the ceiling as she spoke, trying to remember. "I forgot his name, though. It was so long
ago. Next."
"The Rock never wants to be around Kurt ever again."
"Too bad, he's slated to get stuck with him again in both The Two Turnbuckles and The Return
of the Game." Azrael replied. She turned to Lita. "Oh, and you'll be in those two stories too."
"Ah, finally." Lita grinned. "I was wondering when you'd actually put me in there."
"Stephanie McMahon demands an official apology for the rumble that happened between her
and David Flair in the executive suite." Hurricane continued. "On that same note, David Flair
says that he enjoyed the experience, but would not want to go through that, expletive, again."
"Expletive?" Lita echoed.
"Dude, this isn't a non-swearing section. Feel free to cuss anytime." Azrael said.
"Wait, Stephanie wants an apology?" Pyper asked incredulously. "Are you kidding me? She was
the one who started the fight!"
"And if she still insists upon it, tell her that she can kiss my expletive." Azrael said. "Next."
Hurricane shook his head, but continued. "William Regal wants all that the APA took from him
back."
Pyper snickered. "Then he can go and ask the APA for it himself. I'm sure they'd be happy to
entertain his questions. Unless he's stupid enough to get himself into another game to try and
win back all of it."
"Next." Azrael and Lita said at the next time.
Before Hurricane could get to the fifth and final item, allowed, at least, more voices floated
over to their group. All four of them looked up to see the red and enraged faces of Rose and
Jamal.
Azrael swiveled around in her chair to face them. "Messrs. Rose and Jamal." She greeted with
mock politeness. "I assume the job has been done?"
"See? She's smiling at us!" Rose said, pointing at a suddenly bewildered Azrael. "You set us up,
didn't you??"
"What the hell are they talking about?" Lita asked.
"The blasted motherfucker woke up, okay?" Jamal snapped irritably. "For a drunk guy, he
can still put up a pretty decent fight."
Azrael choked back laughter. "I had them take the then unconscious Stone Cold away." She
explained to Lita and the Hurricane.
"I see." Hurricane said, while Lita snickered.
"So what did you do with Austin?" Pyper asked.
"We thought about fighting back." Rose said sorely. "But then Debra showed up and started
screaming her blonde head off for the police. Something about us beating him up. Jesus."
He shook his head.
"So here's our fee." Jamal inserted before either Pyper or Azrael could say anything. "$1700.
Two hundred for holding Pyper back for you earlier, five for transporting Stone Cold Steve
Austin away, and a grand flat for putting up with shit that wasn't supposed to happen!"
"$1700?? That's crazy!" Lita exclaimed.
"Yeah, especially when restraining me only cost two hundred bucks!" Pyper cried out. "I went
up to as far as nine hundred the last time!"
"A misunderstanding between her and the members of N'Sync." Azrael said to Hurricane and
Lita. "You don't want me to elaborate, trust me."
"Well?" Rose asked impatiently. "Show us the money!"
"The figure is more than a little steep, citizens." Hurricane said to the two of them. "I suggest
that the both of you and Azrael sit down and consult with each other to come up with a sum
that both parties can agree on."
"Or what?" Rose mocked. "You'll chokeslam us?" he and Jamal laughed.
"What do you stand to lose?" Hurricane pointed out.
"$1600 of their original sum, for one." Azrael spoke up. "I only have a hundred bucks with me."
"WHAT?" Jamal exclaimed.
"Listen up, we're not asking to receive $1700 for our services, we're demanding it." Rose told
her brusquely. "So fork over the money, little girl!"
Hurricane stepped forward, but Azrael stopped him. She gave a woeful smile. "What a pity,
gentlemen, I was so hoping to get along. But since you're both determined to make things
difficult, I'm going to have to get nasty myself. Pyper? Do the honors?"
"Way ahead of you, Azrael." Pyper said with a mischievous smile. She had gotten up and opened
a panel of switches on the desk. She pressed the third red button.
The sound of heavy footsteps approached, and Rose and Jamal turned to see Bradshaw and
Faarooq walking towards them, cracking their knuckles.
"How about one more for old times, Faarooq?" Bradshaw asked.
"I'm game." Faarooq answered.
"Oh hell no." Rose groaned. He and Jamal turned and ran, both Faarooq and Bradshaw in hot
pursuit. The two Island Boys shouted back threats of revenge over their shoulders as they ran.
"Well that was easy." Pyper commented.
Hurricane looked up, than at the fifth item on his list and cleared his throat. "Citizen Lita,
I think you should leave now."
"Why?" Lita asked indignantly.
"Yeah, you haven't read the fifth complaint yet." Pyper said. Not that she was looking forward
to it.
"I think the fifth complaint got impatient and decided to present itself." Hurricane said,
pointing into the distance. The girls turned and saw two figures headed over to them.
"Is that who I think it is?" Pyper asked, squinting.
"Yeah, Brock Lesnar and the wart on his ass known as Paul Heyman." Lita said dryly, standing
up.
"Oh goodie." Azrael said dryly.
"I think that Hurricane's right." Lita said. "I have to get out of here. But before I go…" she
plucked another picture from the stack and handed it to the superhero. "Here you go, this is
for you."
"It's Test reading over my shoulder." Hurricane said.
"It was funny." Lita said.
"Come on guys, get a move on." Pyper urged. "They're getting closer."
"Hang on, Citizen Pyper, it was Lita I suggested leave, not me." Hurricane said. "I think that
maybe I should stay…" he started, but Azrael cut him off.
"We'll be fine." She insisted. "This is my realm. No one can touch me here." She looked at worried
Pyper. "Yes, you too, Pyper."
"But…" Hurricane was interrupted by Lita this time.
"See you guys! I'll get the copies to you by next week!!" Lita called, waving as she half-dragged
the Hurricane away. "They will be fine, you heard it directly from them." She was heard ad-
monishing him as they left. "Now come on, as much as I'd like to see the two of them get some-
one to beat the living hell out of those two, I so do not want to be at the same place as Paul
Heyman is…"
They were almost a spot in the distance when Brock Lesnar and Paul Heyman finally reached
Pyper and Azrael. Azrael remained seated, and Pyper hopped onto the chaise lounge to sit on
the backrest, her feet on the seat.
"Was that Lita?" Heyman immediately asked, straining to see into the distance.
"Yes." Azrael answered flatly. "She couldn't stick around, though."
"Well, the neck brace cuts the sex appeal in half anyway." Paul said with a shrug. Pyper and
Azrael narrowed their eyes, both seriously wanting to deck him right there and then.
"May we help you?" Azrael asked coldly.
"Yeah, I've got a big question for you." Paul started. "How come you don't give Brock proper
exposure in your stories?? This is the Next Big Thing here! He's single-handedly destroyed all the
opponents who've crossed his path! He's…"
Azrael and Pyper sat back, letting him talk while they sported bored looks on their faces.
After a while even Brock seemed to get tired of Heyman's endless blabber and cut him off with
a wave of his hand. "Paul, let me do this." He said.
"Hey, sure, whatever you want." Paul said, taking the smallest step back.
Brock looked at the two of them. "Over thirty thousand words in this story and I was devoted
less of it than Spike Dudley was. Now what I want to know is why." He said with a grim face,
looming up over the both of them.
Azrael and Pyper looked at him, then at each other, then back at him. "Why, were we in any
way obligated to give you a bigger part?" Azrael asked.
"Frankly, we don't like you, even less since you won the King of the Ring and Jericho or RVD
didn't. And the fact that although you're an impressively strong guy we think you've been given
over-exposure on WWE TV enough." Pyper said.
"At this point, we can't think of an interesting story line that would include you, or Heyman."
Azrael said, looking pointedly at Paul. "So if you don't mind, we were about set to leave as well."
Paul started to blubber. Lesnar stopped him from saying anything again. Brock looked down con-
temptuously at them. "Well how about I sit you both down and get you to re-write some of those
scenes?" he said in a low, dangerous voice.
"Undertaker tried that with me." Azrael said with a shrug. "Needless to say, it didn't work."
"Azrael, he chased you away from this place on his motorcycle." Pyper reminded.
She turned sharply to her. "They didn't need to know that!"
"That's my line." Pyper said.
"I'm afraid that this is the end of this conversation, gentlemen." Azrael said. She reached over and hit
the first red button the panel on her desk.
For a moment it seemed that nothing had happened. Paul snickered and was about to mouth off
to the two authors when a yell sounded and Brock Lesnar turned around to receive one hell of a
spear by the newcomer. This was followed up with a jackhammer that put the big guy down for
the count.
"Wholly shit!!" Paul Heyman cried, backing away.
Bill Goldberg smirked down at him. He took a threatening step forward so that he was glaring right
down at Heyman. "Boo."
Heyman screamed and ran off, forgetting completely about Brock Lesnar.
Pyper laughed as she watched him go. She and Azrael walked up to stand on either side of Gold-
berg. "I'm so glad you're on our side." Pyper said, patting his arm.
"I'm glad to be on your side too." Goldberg said with a laugh.
"What do we do with him?" Pyper suddenly asked, looking down at Brock.
"Second unconscious wrestler today. Must be some sort of twisted record." Azrael said with a sigh.
She took out her cellphone. "I'll get someone to get him out of here, and clean this mess up in the
process."
The three of them started to walk away from the area, Pyper stepping over Brock's body as they
did so. "So, want to join us? We were just about to grab lunch over at this new Chinese
restaurant."
"Hey, sounds good." Goldberg said, grinning.
"Oh yeah, and when we do, we might as well have a teeny, tiny little conversation concerning what
you mean by definitely wrestling before the year ended…" Azrael said, as she lifted the phone to
her ear.
They walked away from the area and Brock, who had started to stir the slightest bit. And that is
the end of our notes.
***
Man, it's been one really long and crazy ride but we've finally reached the end. We have really
enjoyed doing this story, and we're happy that so many of you liked it as well. Liked it enough
to tell us to continue it when we were going through a dry spell even. We'll definitely have to think
about doing a sequel, though... This first one was crazy (not to mention long) enough.
Oh, and we don't know who exactly made up the name Smoochy Dreamers, or how it came around,
but it just poppedi nto our heads when we were doing this chapter. Whoever did come up with it,
we hope you didn't mind us using it for the moment!
Once again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing!
- aZrAeL and Pyper316
AUTHORS' NOTES
"… and so I told Vince… *hic*… I told him that Ol' Stone Cold - WHAT? - wasn't going to stick
around to see the best persona… *hic*… in wrestling history take a nosedive into… *hic*… washed-
out land. Then I gave him the finger and hit the Stunner on him… *hic*… or was it the other way
around? Whatever…"
Azrael continued to sip her white chocolate iced latte and Pyper316 her Pepsi Twist as they
patiently nodded after every statement Stone Cold made. Austin was stretched out on a chaise
lounge near Azrael's computer in her section of the fanfiction world. At that moment he was
happily popping open another can of beer. They hadn't originally brought him here so that they
could play psychiatrist to him, but at that moment that was what they had turned out to be. But
hell, it was better than doing nothing. So they listened.
"And now he goes around and axes Debra… *hic*… she's got nothing to do with all this shit! Now
tell me… *hic*… do you think that's fair??" he asked as he guzzled down another gulp.
"No, of course not." Pyper said, shaking her head.
Azrael simply took another sip and waited for Austin to pass out from intoxication.
"… I'm not saying that what I did was right. But what in the hell… *hic*... would you have done
if you felt that you were at the… *hic*… fucking end of your rope?"
"Most probably what you did." Pyper replied, saying exactly all the things that she knew the Rattle-
snake wanted to hear.
"Life's a motherfucking hell hole, you know that? Hell, you're… *hic*… smart kids, you probably
realized that by now. You know that it's a blistering cesspool of nothing but… *hic*… messed up
situations and even more messed up people…" Austin ultimately trailed off and lost consciousness.
Azrael raised an eyebrow as she looked over his slumped form on the chaise lounge. "I knew it
was only a matter of time before it came down to this." She commented dryly.
Pyper prodded his shoulder cautiously. "He's out cold." She announced with a sigh. "So much for
talking him into coming back to the WWE. Vince is going to be disappointed that we failed."
"Darn, that would have been another ten grand for us." Azrael groaned. She glared accusingly
at Pyper. "This probably wouldn't have happened if you hadn't suggested that we give him beer
from the start."
"I thought it would make him comfortable!" Pyper defended herself. "I didn't know that it would
make him THIS comfortable!!"
Azrael sighed again and waved it off. "Eh, what's done is done anyway, it can't be helped. The
question now is what in the hell do we do with him?"
"We can get someone to move him, I guess."
"Great idea. You go find that someone."
"Huh? Why me?" Pyper complained.
"Because you suggested it."
Grumbling to herself, Pyper stood up and walked off, leaving momentarily to find someone she
could manipulate or blackmail into helping them out.
Azrael, in the meantime, was given no peace of mind as the moment Pyper was out of sight she
heard someone clear his or her throat impatiently behind her. Annoyed, she swiveled her chair
around.
"All right, Israel, we have to talk." Chris Jericho said sharply the moment she looked at him.
"Do I look like a fucking country to you?" she snapped at him.
"With the way you eat, you'll grow big enough to be called on in three months, tops." Jericho r
etorted.
Azrael colored and put down her iced latte. "All right, I'm a pig, point taken." She said crossly.
"Now what do you want??"
"Simple." Jericho said as he moved over to sit on the chaise lounge. "I want to know… WHOLLY
CRAP!" he exclaimed, when he saw the settee's occupant. "What in the hell is he doing here??"
"That's beside the point, but if you must know he passed out after one too many of these." Azrael
said, holding up an empty can of beer. She shot it into the already full trashcan, so in effect she
just succeeded in knocking a few cans out of it. Azrael sighed.
Jericho made a noise of disgust. "This guy's got to quit drinking."
"Try telling that to him." Azrael commented, standing up.
"Hey Azrael, I'm back. I don't know if you'll take this as good news, but…" a returning Pyper cut
herself off in mid-sentence when she saw who Azrael was standing with.
"Oh shit." Azrael muttered.
Pyper let out an ungodly shriek of delight and zipped towards them. "CHIRS
JERICHOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" she called out, running for him with her arms wide open. Before she
could actually glomp his arm or any other accessible part of his body, Azrael's hand shot forward
and grabbed her by the back of her collar.
"Pyper…" Azrael said in a warning tone.
"Let me go… must get to Jericho…" Pyper whimpered, straining against Azrael's grip. Her finger-
tips were flailing inches away from a stunned Chris Jericho. "Must give him hug… it's Jericho…"
"Oh, shit." Jericho echoed.
"Pyper." Azrael repeated, more firmly this time. "I thought we talked about this? If you have
any more Jericho-induced hysterical outbursts, the nice men in white coats will take you away
in a straightjacket. Do you want that to happen?"
"No." Pyper said meekly, ceasing her struggles.
Jericho lifted his head and looked behind them. "Hey Azrael, I think she brought company."
He suddenly said with a snicker.
Azrael turned, then looked up. Two incredibly large and almost identical men looked back at
her. She cleared her throat. "May I help you?"
"You Azrael?" one of them asked. When she nodded, he spoke again. "She told us that there
would be some money in it for us if we helped you out." He said, indicating Pyper. "She better
not have been lying." He followed up dangerously.
Azrael looked at Pyper. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"
Pyper grinned. "Oh yeah. I believe you know Rose and Jamal. They're the ones I managed to
sucker… I mean, get to help us with our little Rattlesnake problem."
"For a fee." Jamal, the one who had spoken earlier, cut in.
"Right, whatever." Azrael said. "You two want to add in a couple of more bucks? Hold this for
me." She pushed Pyper over to them, and they held her back willingly enough.
Jericho waited for her to turn back to him before resuming their conversation. "All right, back
to what I was saying." He said, making her groan. "Whose brilliant idea was it to make Trish
Stratus spill freezing cold mango juice all over my pants??"
"Oh, that." Azrael said disinterestedly. "You'll have to take that up with deadgirlwalking8. "It
was her idea, I just used it."
"I think I will." Jericho growled. "And how about putting me in Kurt's stupid pants?"
"That would be me." Azrael said, taking her seat again.
"Have you some pathetic mission in life to make me miserable??" Jericho demanded. He turned
to Pyper. "You, you're a Jerichoholic. Why didn't you stop her??"
"She wrote it and posted it behind my back, I swear!" Pyper burst out. "I'll do anything to make
it up to you! Want me to kill her for you? I can do that." She said eagerly.
"Pyper, the nice men in white are one call away." Azrael said calmly.
"I'll be quiet." Pyper said quickly. Rose and Jamal exchanged disturbed looks.
Jericho turned back to glaring at Azrael. She sighed. "Look, just be glad that I didn't go with
my original idea of hooking you and Trish up together."
Jericho made a gagging noise. "God forbid. What made you change your mind?"
Azrael went back to sipping her drink. "I thought about it and realized that if I did do it, I would
be clobbered by Pyper, a bunch of female Jerichoholics and every Smoochy Dreamer fan in
existence."
"Amen." Pyper nodded her head."
"Smoochy Dreamers? Wait a minute, that sounds familiar…" Jericho pondered.
"Now, if I've answered all your questions, I'd like to ask you to leave now." Azrael told Jericho,
tapping him on the leg.
Jericho snapped out of his thoughts. "Are you giving me an order, Ariadne?" he sneered. "Because
I don't respond too well to those. Listen, Y2J does what he likes and comes and goes as he pleases,
you got that?"
"Oh, so you're talking in third person like the Rock now?" Azrael said dryly.
"I think it's adorable." Pyper said dreamily.
Azrael rolled her eyes, but then an evil smile crossed her face. Jericho didn't like the look of it,
but he succeeded in feigning that it didn't get to him. Azrael addressed him. "Then let me re-
phrase that. If you don't get your ass out of my workspace, I'll set her loose on you." She said,
cocking her head towards Pyper.
"Really??!" Pyper asked enthusiastically.
Jericho's eyes widened. "You wouldn't…"
"Oh, wouldn't I? Gentlemen, you can let her go now." She said to Rose and Jamal, all the while
still smiling at Jericho.
He Island Boys shrugged, then let go of Pyper and stepped away. Pyper let out of another
semi-mad shriek of glee and tore off in Jericho's direction. Jericho, in turn, gave a scream of
his own and raced off into the distance, Pyper close at his heels.
Azrael watched them go for a moment before turning her attention back to Rose and Jamal.
"Well, now that's settle, let's get to business." She pointed to Stone Cold on the chaise lounge.
He had remained blissfully asleep and had even started to snore. "Transfer him out of here,
please. To the arena, to his truck, to Debra, I don't care. Anywhere but here."
"Could you be more vague?" Rose asked sarcastically.
"Could you take any longer?" Azrael snapped. "Just do it, now. We'll talk about the pay after."
"Why after?" Jamal almost whined.
"Whoever heard of being paid before the job was done?" Azrael reasoned.
Grumbling, the two men walked over to the sofa and on the count of three heave the unconscious
Stone Cold Steve Austin onto their shoulders. "The momeny better be here when we get back."
Rose said in a gruff voice.
"Mm-hmm." Azrael said neutrally, looking at her nails. She waved them away and they left in
the opposite direction that Jericho and Pyper had gone off to.
It was quiet again for a while, then a loud voice broke through the silence. "AZRAEL!!"
Azrael jumped and turned, but quickly relaxed when she saw the smiling redhead make her way
to the place. She smiled herself and waved her over. "Lita!"
Lita reached her and sat down on the arm of the vacated chaise lounge. "Hey, took me nearly
forever to find this place! But I've got everything right…" Lita trailed off as she caught sight of
the mess around. "Why are there beer cans all over the place?" she finally asked.
"Austin was here." Azrael said simply.
"That explains a lot."
"That neck brace doesn't hurt, does it?" Azrael asked, not being able to resist bringing it up.
Lita brought a hand up to her neck to touch it. "Not so much as uncomfortable." She said with
a sigh. "I can't get used to it, but it's not like I want to, anyway." Her face brightened up as
she changed the subject. "Well, back to what I was saying." She pulled out an envelope from
her back pocket. "I've got all the pictures, right here." She handed them to Azrael.
Azrael burst out laughing the moment she saw the first one. "Girl, I definitely have to have a
copy of this." She said, holding up the one of Jeff snuggling up to Matt.
Lita grinned. "That's one of the more popular ones."
Disappointed mumbling interrupted the two girls. They looked up to see Pyper sullenly making
her way over to them. "He got away." She announced tearfully to them as she flopped down
to the floor.
"Who got away?" Lita asked with an amused expression on her face.
"Jericho." Pyper said mournfully. "The only thing I managed to get from him was this." She
produced a torn scrap of clothing that Azrael realized had been part of Jericho's shirt.
"Jesus Christ, Pyper, I should turn you over to the pound as a rabid dog." Azrael told her bluntly.
"Cheer up, Pyper." Lita said, noticing that Pyper's glum expression didn't change, even after
Azrael's insult. "Here, I've got something here that I know you'll like." She picked out a picture
from the stack that Azrael had been holding and handed it to Pyper.
Pyper looked at it. "It's Jericho in Kurt Angle's dorky pants." She said. A tiny smile lifted up the
corners of her mouth. "He really did look dumb in those. Don't tell him I said that!" she said
immediately to Azrael, who looked innocently back at her.
"It gets better." Lita told her with a wide grin. "Jericho thinks that I burned all my copies of
that. He doesn't know about this one. Next time you see him, you can blackmail him with it
to get him to stick around."
Pyper gave a squeal of delight and threw her arms around Lita. "Ohmigosh, Lita, thank you!!
Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you so much!! You're a genius!!"
"I love it when people call me that." Lita said with a grin as Pyper finally let her go.
"A-ha! Citizens Azrael and Pyper!"
"Oh dear Lord." Azrael groaned.
"Oh come on, the Hurricane's not so bad." Pyper defended, seeing the green superhero-
wannabe come walking towards them.
"Maybe, but I could have done without him right now." Azrael complained.
The Hurricane strutted up to them, then stopped and struck a pose, something all three girls
had a feeling he didn't intend to do. Force of habit, they supposed. "Hello, ladies." He greeted
them.
"Great, now he thinks he's Val Venis." Azrael muttered.
"Did he say it like he was a former porn star?" Lita hissed at her. "Let the guy talk."
"It has come to my attention that you two, Pyper and Azrael, were the pilot and co-pilot of
our flight respectively, is that right?" Hurricane asked.
"That would be correct." Pyper answered.
Hurricane was about to continue when he looked around suspiciously. "Have you all been drink-
ing?" he asked, surveying the area."
"Austin was here." Lita said, repeating Azrael's statement from earlier.
"Oh." Hurricane said.
"So what's up?" Pyper asked.
"I'm here as a representative of a majority of WWE superstars to let you know that we did not
feel that the both of you were equally qualified to fly that plane and henceforth put our lives in
serious jeopardy." Hurricane said in one breath.
"In other words, you are the sucker whom everybody else got to send their complaints through."
Azrael said in a bored voice.
Hurricane thought about it. "That's may be another way to put it."
Azrael sighed and sat back. "Well, bring it on."
The Hurricane pulled out a roll of paper from his pocket and rolled it out. At its full length the
bottom part hit the floor and both Azrael and Pyper gave collective groans while Lita laughed.
"On second thought, just the first five." Azrael said, rubbing her temples.
"But what about the others?" he asked.
"Have them send it to us via e-mail." Azrael replied, with every intention of deleting them and
claiming that they never got it.
Hurricane, not knowing this, nodded and began to read. "First off, Rikishi wants to know how you
got it into your head to get him stuck in an airplane toilet stall."
"I heard a comedian joke about it once, a pretty big guy himself." Azrael said to him, looking up
into the ceiling as she spoke, trying to remember. "I forgot his name, though. It was so long
ago. Next."
"The Rock never wants to be around Kurt ever again."
"Too bad, he's slated to get stuck with him again in both The Two Turnbuckles and The Return
of the Game." Azrael replied. She turned to Lita. "Oh, and you'll be in those two stories too."
"Ah, finally." Lita grinned. "I was wondering when you'd actually put me in there."
"Stephanie McMahon demands an official apology for the rumble that happened between her
and David Flair in the executive suite." Hurricane continued. "On that same note, David Flair
says that he enjoyed the experience, but would not want to go through that, expletive, again."
"Expletive?" Lita echoed.
"Dude, this isn't a non-swearing section. Feel free to cuss anytime." Azrael said.
"Wait, Stephanie wants an apology?" Pyper asked incredulously. "Are you kidding me? She was
the one who started the fight!"
"And if she still insists upon it, tell her that she can kiss my expletive." Azrael said. "Next."
Hurricane shook his head, but continued. "William Regal wants all that the APA took from him
back."
Pyper snickered. "Then he can go and ask the APA for it himself. I'm sure they'd be happy to
entertain his questions. Unless he's stupid enough to get himself into another game to try and
win back all of it."
"Next." Azrael and Lita said at the next time.
Before Hurricane could get to the fifth and final item, allowed, at least, more voices floated
over to their group. All four of them looked up to see the red and enraged faces of Rose and
Jamal.
Azrael swiveled around in her chair to face them. "Messrs. Rose and Jamal." She greeted with
mock politeness. "I assume the job has been done?"
"See? She's smiling at us!" Rose said, pointing at a suddenly bewildered Azrael. "You set us up,
didn't you??"
"What the hell are they talking about?" Lita asked.
"The blasted motherfucker woke up, okay?" Jamal snapped irritably. "For a drunk guy, he
can still put up a pretty decent fight."
Azrael choked back laughter. "I had them take the then unconscious Stone Cold away." She
explained to Lita and the Hurricane.
"I see." Hurricane said, while Lita snickered.
"So what did you do with Austin?" Pyper asked.
"We thought about fighting back." Rose said sorely. "But then Debra showed up and started
screaming her blonde head off for the police. Something about us beating him up. Jesus."
He shook his head.
"So here's our fee." Jamal inserted before either Pyper or Azrael could say anything. "$1700.
Two hundred for holding Pyper back for you earlier, five for transporting Stone Cold Steve
Austin away, and a grand flat for putting up with shit that wasn't supposed to happen!"
"$1700?? That's crazy!" Lita exclaimed.
"Yeah, especially when restraining me only cost two hundred bucks!" Pyper cried out. "I went
up to as far as nine hundred the last time!"
"A misunderstanding between her and the members of N'Sync." Azrael said to Hurricane and
Lita. "You don't want me to elaborate, trust me."
"Well?" Rose asked impatiently. "Show us the money!"
"The figure is more than a little steep, citizens." Hurricane said to the two of them. "I suggest
that the both of you and Azrael sit down and consult with each other to come up with a sum
that both parties can agree on."
"Or what?" Rose mocked. "You'll chokeslam us?" he and Jamal laughed.
"What do you stand to lose?" Hurricane pointed out.
"$1600 of their original sum, for one." Azrael spoke up. "I only have a hundred bucks with me."
"WHAT?" Jamal exclaimed.
"Listen up, we're not asking to receive $1700 for our services, we're demanding it." Rose told
her brusquely. "So fork over the money, little girl!"
Hurricane stepped forward, but Azrael stopped him. She gave a woeful smile. "What a pity,
gentlemen, I was so hoping to get along. But since you're both determined to make things
difficult, I'm going to have to get nasty myself. Pyper? Do the honors?"
"Way ahead of you, Azrael." Pyper said with a mischievous smile. She had gotten up and opened
a panel of switches on the desk. She pressed the third red button.
The sound of heavy footsteps approached, and Rose and Jamal turned to see Bradshaw and
Faarooq walking towards them, cracking their knuckles.
"How about one more for old times, Faarooq?" Bradshaw asked.
"I'm game." Faarooq answered.
"Oh hell no." Rose groaned. He and Jamal turned and ran, both Faarooq and Bradshaw in hot
pursuit. The two Island Boys shouted back threats of revenge over their shoulders as they ran.
"Well that was easy." Pyper commented.
Hurricane looked up, than at the fifth item on his list and cleared his throat. "Citizen Lita,
I think you should leave now."
"Why?" Lita asked indignantly.
"Yeah, you haven't read the fifth complaint yet." Pyper said. Not that she was looking forward
to it.
"I think the fifth complaint got impatient and decided to present itself." Hurricane said,
pointing into the distance. The girls turned and saw two figures headed over to them.
"Is that who I think it is?" Pyper asked, squinting.
"Yeah, Brock Lesnar and the wart on his ass known as Paul Heyman." Lita said dryly, standing
up.
"Oh goodie." Azrael said dryly.
"I think that Hurricane's right." Lita said. "I have to get out of here. But before I go…" she
plucked another picture from the stack and handed it to the superhero. "Here you go, this is
for you."
"It's Test reading over my shoulder." Hurricane said.
"It was funny." Lita said.
"Come on guys, get a move on." Pyper urged. "They're getting closer."
"Hang on, Citizen Pyper, it was Lita I suggested leave, not me." Hurricane said. "I think that
maybe I should stay…" he started, but Azrael cut him off.
"We'll be fine." She insisted. "This is my realm. No one can touch me here." She looked at worried
Pyper. "Yes, you too, Pyper."
"But…" Hurricane was interrupted by Lita this time.
"See you guys! I'll get the copies to you by next week!!" Lita called, waving as she half-dragged
the Hurricane away. "They will be fine, you heard it directly from them." She was heard ad-
monishing him as they left. "Now come on, as much as I'd like to see the two of them get some-
one to beat the living hell out of those two, I so do not want to be at the same place as Paul
Heyman is…"
They were almost a spot in the distance when Brock Lesnar and Paul Heyman finally reached
Pyper and Azrael. Azrael remained seated, and Pyper hopped onto the chaise lounge to sit on
the backrest, her feet on the seat.
"Was that Lita?" Heyman immediately asked, straining to see into the distance.
"Yes." Azrael answered flatly. "She couldn't stick around, though."
"Well, the neck brace cuts the sex appeal in half anyway." Paul said with a shrug. Pyper and
Azrael narrowed their eyes, both seriously wanting to deck him right there and then.
"May we help you?" Azrael asked coldly.
"Yeah, I've got a big question for you." Paul started. "How come you don't give Brock proper
exposure in your stories?? This is the Next Big Thing here! He's single-handedly destroyed all the
opponents who've crossed his path! He's…"
Azrael and Pyper sat back, letting him talk while they sported bored looks on their faces.
After a while even Brock seemed to get tired of Heyman's endless blabber and cut him off with
a wave of his hand. "Paul, let me do this." He said.
"Hey, sure, whatever you want." Paul said, taking the smallest step back.
Brock looked at the two of them. "Over thirty thousand words in this story and I was devoted
less of it than Spike Dudley was. Now what I want to know is why." He said with a grim face,
looming up over the both of them.
Azrael and Pyper looked at him, then at each other, then back at him. "Why, were we in any
way obligated to give you a bigger part?" Azrael asked.
"Frankly, we don't like you, even less since you won the King of the Ring and Jericho or RVD
didn't. And the fact that although you're an impressively strong guy we think you've been given
over-exposure on WWE TV enough." Pyper said.
"At this point, we can't think of an interesting story line that would include you, or Heyman."
Azrael said, looking pointedly at Paul. "So if you don't mind, we were about set to leave as well."
Paul started to blubber. Lesnar stopped him from saying anything again. Brock looked down con-
temptuously at them. "Well how about I sit you both down and get you to re-write some of those
scenes?" he said in a low, dangerous voice.
"Undertaker tried that with me." Azrael said with a shrug. "Needless to say, it didn't work."
"Azrael, he chased you away from this place on his motorcycle." Pyper reminded.
She turned sharply to her. "They didn't need to know that!"
"That's my line." Pyper said.
"I'm afraid that this is the end of this conversation, gentlemen." Azrael said. She reached over and hit
the first red button the panel on her desk.
For a moment it seemed that nothing had happened. Paul snickered and was about to mouth off
to the two authors when a yell sounded and Brock Lesnar turned around to receive one hell of a
spear by the newcomer. This was followed up with a jackhammer that put the big guy down for
the count.
"Wholly shit!!" Paul Heyman cried, backing away.
Bill Goldberg smirked down at him. He took a threatening step forward so that he was glaring right
down at Heyman. "Boo."
Heyman screamed and ran off, forgetting completely about Brock Lesnar.
Pyper laughed as she watched him go. She and Azrael walked up to stand on either side of Gold-
berg. "I'm so glad you're on our side." Pyper said, patting his arm.
"I'm glad to be on your side too." Goldberg said with a laugh.
"What do we do with him?" Pyper suddenly asked, looking down at Brock.
"Second unconscious wrestler today. Must be some sort of twisted record." Azrael said with a sigh.
She took out her cellphone. "I'll get someone to get him out of here, and clean this mess up in the
process."
The three of them started to walk away from the area, Pyper stepping over Brock's body as they
did so. "So, want to join us? We were just about to grab lunch over at this new Chinese
restaurant."
"Hey, sounds good." Goldberg said, grinning.
"Oh yeah, and when we do, we might as well have a teeny, tiny little conversation concerning what
you mean by definitely wrestling before the year ended…" Azrael said, as she lifted the phone to
her ear.
They walked away from the area and Brock, who had started to stir the slightest bit. And that is
the end of our notes.
***
Man, it's been one really long and crazy ride but we've finally reached the end. We have really
enjoyed doing this story, and we're happy that so many of you liked it as well. Liked it enough
to tell us to continue it when we were going through a dry spell even. We'll definitely have to think
about doing a sequel, though... This first one was crazy (not to mention long) enough.
Oh, and we don't know who exactly made up the name Smoochy Dreamers, or how it came around,
but it just poppedi nto our heads when we were doing this chapter. Whoever did come up with it,
we hope you didn't mind us using it for the moment!
Once again, thank you so much for reading and reviewing!
- aZrAeL and Pyper316
