Vince stood in the ring on RAW, waiting for the fans to shut up their booing. "You know the thought of Anonymous hunting me here is still fresh in my mind, but I can't rest easy anymore. I don't think anyone can beat him, just like Big Show and A-Train couldn't get rid of Enigma on SmackDown, and I'm not even going to mention what's left of the FBI. So I'm going to stand a big offer to anyone on RAW. Anyone who thinks that they can tame that firebrand Anonymous, You'll be looking at a hefty bonus in their next paychecks." He waited a second to see if anyone would stand up to the impossible task.

"Ok, I'll do one better. I'll throw in his World Heavyweight Title too." Still, no one came out. "And if they loose, I'll cover the medical stuff." Christopher Nowinski, on one of his ego trips, came out.

"Well, Vince, you requested someone to come out and accept your challenge, so here I am."

"With all do respect, Christopher, I was hoping someone a bit bigger would come out."

"All the big guys back there are idiots. You need someone who can outsmart him. What you need sir is a Harvard Graduate." The fans started booing him loudly.

Then, all the lights cut off. Nowinski suddenly realized he had made a big mistake. The lights came back on, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Luckily, it had only been a power-surge. "Chris, explain to me why you're intelligence has anything to do with beating a juggernaut?" Vince knew Nowinski was his only real chance, but he never liked the little disrespectful crap-stain anyway.

"I can beat him because I have the mind-power to do that." Chris began. The lights suddenly cut off again, this time, Nowinski wasn't concerned. Then, the whispering echoes of some voices started, and Nowinski really shit his speedo.

I am who you are not. I do whatever it is that you don't. I'm the one person you don't want to mess with. I'm the guy you bump into as you walk down the street. This is who I am; I am Anonymous.

Right after that, Rob Zombie's Dragula song started playing about 2 minutes and 32 seconds into the song.

Dead I am the dog; hound of hell, you cry.

Devil on you back; I can never die.

The pyros at the ramp ignited, setting the haunting shadow over Anonymous. His Tag Team Title Belts were on his shoulders, and his World Heavyweight Title Belt was around his waist. Vince was worried, and blinked the sweat out of his eyes and stared as the juggernaut made his way towards him. Anonymous climbed up on the apron, and swung himself over the top rope. He drew his katana, and waited for his line. "DIEEEEEEEEEE!" He stabbed the katana down onto the canvas, and the pyros in the turnbuckles ignited again.

The lights turned on, but Anonymous didn't attack either of them. "Don't worry, Vince. I won't finish you off tonight. Tonight the main victim is the Harvard bitch." The fans cheered loudly for Anonymous. "Let me guess, Nowinski. You think that because you graduated from a big school you should have everyone kiss your ass, right?"

"Yes." Nowinski told the truth for once.

"Why? Who gives a shit about Harvard? It doesn't put a Ferrari in your garage. It doesn't give you a job that pays $100,000 a year. I could get a job at a federal penitentiary. All have to do is shoot the guys that try to break out, and I get paid half of that, and can easily get the other half if I work extra hours."

"So?" Chris acted like that was the biggest insult in the world.

"Ok. I have some questions then. If post is spelt 'p-o-s-t' and most is spelt 'm-o-s-t', then how do you spell the word of what you put in a toaster?"

"Toast. T-o-a-s-t." Nowinski said proudly.

"Wrong. It's bread. B-r-e-a-d." The fans laughed at Nowinski. "A Muslim is living in Indiana. Even if he converts to Christianity, he cannot be buried in the church cemetery. Why?"

"Because he has to have been born Christian?" Nowinski asked.

"No. He's still alive so no one would bury him. What weighs more, a pound of feathers or a pound of gold?"

Chris thought he knew this for sure. "They both weigh the same."

"No. Gold is always weighed in Troy ounces or Troy pounds, which is less than the standard ounce or pound." Chris felt like a complete idiot. "Ok, I'll ask a simpler question. What's 2 plus 2?"

Nowinski took that like a slap to the face. "What college did you graduate from? You're so stupid you probably didn't even get into a one!"

"You never answered my last question, but let's move on. I could lower myself to your level and answer with a little pointless response to that, Nowinski, but I've got something better than that." Anonymous pointed at the Titantron, which flickered to life, showing the principal of Harvard University.

"Sir, I believe that you have confided in me a very serious fact, that you would now wish to clear your conscience?" Anonymous asked him.

"Yes I would." The principal replied, and took out a pair of reading glasses and read a sheet of paper aloud. "While Christopher Nowinski was in the course of studying at Harvard University, several teachers and I accepted bribes from him to raise his GPA above what it should have been. In reality, his GPA was below a 2.0 when he began bribing us, and had sunken alarmingly after he began to pay the bribes. We regret to admit that we have done this, and wish not to hold any connections to Mr. Nowinski in the future. If he had in fact earned the right to call himself a Harvard graduate, then we would not have confessed this secret. But if in fact he had earned it, then we would not have been bribed in the first place. We will soon be retracting the diploma he has 'earned', and wish him good luck in the future." He looked up. "Christopher, I know this is a bad time to come clean, but you truly deserve to work hard for once in your life. Try to do something other than lying in the future."

The Titantron went black, and Nowinski's head was spinning. How did Anonymous know I bribed them?

"Now hold on a second, Anonymous. I can see that you're holding both Tag Team Titles. Where'd your partner go? It looks like I'm going to have to strip you of your Titles." Vince started to think, and realized he could warp this into firing Anonymous if he forged Anonymous' contract.

"True, but I have 6 months to either find a new partner, or be stripped of them." And the lights cut off. When they came back on, both Vince and Nowinski were unconscious, lying in a pool of blood in the center of the ring.

***

Vince woke up in a hospital, thinking about Anonymous. He deserved the moniker he had gotten; a Juggernaut. He was impregnable, an unstoppable force in all forms. Vince knew then that he couldn't stop either him or Enigma.