Ch. 3.

Back at ringside, Chris Jericho was looking much the worse for wear with blood on his face and confusion in his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing, Steve?" he mouthed, when he knew the camera's view of his face would be blocked, "This wasn't in the plan!"

However, the only answer he received was a blow to the face which sent him reeling back into the announce table.

"Well, Paul, I think Stone Cold has finally been pushed over the edge and whether or not Jericho is the person responsible, he is certainly the one taking the punishment, and WHAT a punishment!"

"It's like I always say, JR - if you can't handle the heat, you shouldn't provoke the chef. It's as simple as that."

"What are you talking about?" exclaimed JR, "I've never heard you say that. And anyway, I thought you would have learned by now that nothing is EVER simple in the world of WWF!"

"Well, we argued earlier about whether Jericho had any business being out here, I bet he wishes now he'd stayed in the back." said Paul.

"For once, I agree." nodded JR, "I can't believe the MAYHEM that is taking place right before our eyes."

The crowd were glued to the events going on, urging Jericho to fight back and constantly directing jeers at Steve Austin. Even though they wanted to help Jericho, for once he wished he could tell them to shut up. Every time the crowd yelled his name, he could see the fury in Austin's eyes and feel the increasing power behind each blow. He wondered where everyone was; someone backstage had to have realised by now that something was wrong, so where was Security? As he tried to think what to do, one particularly strong blow blurred his vision and the next thing he knew, he was lying sprawled across the announce table with Steve Austin towering over him, shouting something which was certainly unintelligible, and more than likely unrepeatable.

"Look, look, JR!" shouted Paul suddenly, as the crowd rose to its feet at the appearance of a figure at the top of the ramp, everyone straining to see who it was.

"There's someone at the top of the ramp, but who?" said JR, "Maybe it's Vince McMahon, coming to watch this unlawful destruction of Y2J."

It soon became apparent that this was not Vince McMahon in his usual ringside capacity as sadistic spectator; this person was running towards the action to the deafening standing ovation of the crowd, when they realised who it was and why he was there.

"It's Chris Benoit! Chris Benoit is coming to the aid of his tag partner, Chris Jericho, in his home town of Edmonton and the fans are loving it!" yelled JR, growing more and more enthusiastic in his commentary, "Perhaps now we'll return to some semblance of order. I must say, it has taken some guts for Benoit to come out and face this ..... this ENRAGED Stone Cold, without knowing what's going through the mind of his enemy. I guess this home crowd has given him some extra fire tonight."

"It's unfair on our champion, that's what it is. It's a TRAP by the tag title holders, making him think he's got the upper hand and then subjecting him to double teaming manoeuvres." argued Paul.

"Oh, come on, Jericho is in no shape to be double teaming anyone. Stone Cold has beaten the life out of him with a steel chair and, look! Jericho is lying, almost LIFELESS, on our announce table and Stone Cold is raising the chair again to bring it crashing down on those bruised ribs. Look at that sick, maniacal smile on Austin's face - he's actually ENJOYING this!"

As JR and Paul watched in a mixture of shock and amazement, the chair was brought down with a force they had never seen before and, as they hurriedly dived out of the way, they both realised that the cry of pain which the shot elicited was real. From the relative safety of their position, crouching low behind their table, they shot anxious glances at each other and tried, not for the first time in their careers, to work out what was going on in front of them.

*****

Jericho was crying out in pain and clutching his ribs, only opening his eyes long enough to see the chair raised for another shot. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and braced himself, but the blow never came. Although he had not tried to hide his appearance and the crowd was screaming his name, Benoit's arrival had gone unnoticed by Austin, who seemed oblivious to everyone except the target he had latched on to, Chris Jericho. Benoit had seized the opportunity to sneak up behind Austin and now grabbed the chair as Austin swung it backwards. As Austin spun round in surprise, Benoit wrenched the weapon from his grasp and, with a swing any baseball player would have been proud of, slammed it forcefully against the side of the champion. Austin fell against the announce table, but jumped back up quickly, only to have the chair cracked down on his head until he fell senseless to the ground.

Benoit paused to catch his breath, leaning heavily on the chair, before throwing it down and going to check on his partner. Jericho had somehow managed to struggle into a sitting position on top of the table and was bent forward in pain, his eyes still tightly closed.

"You okay, man?" Benoit asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Jericho opened one eye slowly to look at him before answering shakily, "I know I missed our last practice, but DAMN, you could have warned me!"

"It seems a lack of communication was part of the cause, but through no fault of ours. Just be glad I turned up; if it had been left to Vince, we'd be scraping you off the floor by now."

"As opposed to peeling me off the table? Much appreciated." groaned Jericho.

"Come on, lets get out of here. Can you stand?"

"You mean I'm not already?" mumbled Jericho, clutching his head.

"Jeez, you gotta give the guy some credit, I dunno how he managed it, but he's scrambled your brains even more than before." smirked Benoit, "Now, come on, get up; you're not doing your argument against the dumb blonde rep any favours."

"Your sense of timing really sucks, I ain't exactly in the mood for you to turn joker on me now, man."

"And I've got better things to do than haul your ass about, so get up! You can't have broken any ribs or anything or you wouldn't have been so quick to sit up. Sure it'll hurt like hell, but at least it's not too serious." reassured Benoit.

"Try telling that to the rest of me." retorted Jericho.

Hesitantly, he tried to stand, but his knees gave way beneath his weight and he almost fell. Benoit hastily took charge and grabbed his arm, slinging it around his shoulders, before proceeding to half help, half carry Jericho up the ramp. They had reached about midway when Benoit happened to glance around at the crowd, trying to gauge whether or not they suspected anything was wrong. Luckily, the crowd seemed oblivious to the truth behind the situation and Benoit was about to turn away when he caught a glimpse of a face which he thought he recognised. This unexpected surprise caught him off guard and he stopped in his tracks.

"What's up?" asked Jericho through clenched teeth, "Don't tell me Austin's back on his feet?"

"What? Uh, no, he won't be getting up for a while yet." said Benoit, obviously distracted, "I just thought ..... It doesn't matter, it's nothing."

Jericho shrugged and they continued their slow progress away from the ring, although Benoit couldn't help glancing back over his shoulder, but the face seemed to have disappeared.

*****