*~*~*Hey everyone! Just thought I'd give a different sort of story a try...
it's Raven/Daffney stuff. Yay! lol Any ways, I'm not entirely sure where
I'm gonna go with it, but hopefully it turns out at least 'okay'. I hope
you enjoy it!*~*~*
**********
Sunday Night Heat. Fucking Sunday Night Heat is where they'd banished him to. Well, to be fair, he banished himself to it, but the stupidity of the match stipulation couldn't be described in words. The loser would be put exclusively on Heat? Why? It's not like anybody ever watched that show. It was there so WWE could have a show for its low carders to see how they would fare in the ring with some of the midcarders before bringing them up to Raw. So why in the hell was he being sent there?
Raven gave a disgusted sigh, obviously pissed off about the entire thing. It wasn't his problem that, for once, he had an off night and lost to D'Lo Brown, the no-talent ex-accountant who was the type of wrestler you saw on television and automatically thought, "Now would be a great time to go take a piss." He had no personality, or at least not one that any of the WWE fans could find. His wrestling ability was absolutely nothing special. D'Lo was average, probably worse than average, but Raven was in no mood to really pick out every single one of the wrestler's flaws right then. All he wanted to do was sit by himself, as usual, and mope.
"Hey buddy," the multi-color haired kid known as Jeff Hardy greeted Raven as the defeated wrestler trudged toward the locker room he had been sharing with a few of the other guys, though not by choice. Raven most certainly didn't like Jeff, but because on ONE occasion Raven had helped the guy with his body paint just to get him to shut the hell up, the so-called daredevil of WWE had taken it to mean they were friends.
They weren't.
Raven didn't even raise his head to look at Jeff as he continued with his laborious walk. He wanted nothing to do with anybody right now, especially not this idiot. Besides, he was probably doped up on something to where he really wasn't even sure who Raven was. Everyone was Jeff's "buddy" when he had snorted one too many lines of crack.
"Dude, are you all right?" Jeff asked, trying to get Raven to say something. He now began following the angry wrestler, going so far as to put his arm around Raven's shoulders.
"If you don't remove your arm from my shoulders, I will break it in to two pieces, Hardy" Raven told him, a deadly calm in his voice. It was beyond him if Jeff really even realized what he had said, but he did retract his arm, and that was enough for Raven. "It's none of your business how I am. Go on your own way before I decide that I despise your company enough to do something about it."
"Man, ya gotta chill out," Jeff said. "You're just way too uptight about all this. Heat ain't so bad, dude..."
That was it. Raven couldn't take any more of Jeff's useless talking. He had told him once that he needed to go on his own way and being told once was more than what most people got from him. Raven grabbed the neck of Jeff's shirt and slammed his back against the wall, making sure to get right in the younger Hardy brother's face.
"I don't know if you're too high to understand me, Hardy, but I told you to leave. I didn't ask you to, I didn't suggest it... I told you to. So go!" Raven shouted the last bit, trying for the last time to get the point across to Jeff. He hated Jeff's general personality, a mixture between an ADHD child and someone who had been drinking too much caffeine, but he hated him even more when he had gotten himself to the point where he was just stoned enough to not listen to anything you said.
"Shit, dude... fine, I'm goin'," Jeff replied with a bit of an attitude. Normally, something like that would have made Raven even more mad, but he was happy with the fact that Jeff would now be leaving, so he left it at that. He released the grip he had on Jeff's collar and walked off, resuming the slow walk he had before he was interrupted.
All he wanted to do was take his mind off of all of this for awhile. Raven didn't want to have to think about the hell he had been sentenced to until the next time he absolutely had to. There were only so many things he could do to occupy his time until tomorrow night's house show, though, where he would no doubt have a few more wrestlers try to offer some sort of bizarre sympathy to him because of all of this. It's not that they really cared, though. Most of them were probably happy to see a performer of Raven's caliber sent to a lesser show so he couldn't continue to show them up with his promos and wrestling talent.
So... now what? What was he to do with his time? He had no one to talk to, but then again he never did. There was no one in WWE that he could have a conversation with that dealt with anything beyond wrestling. Not that he particularly enjoyed talking to other people, but occasionally it would be amusing to see one of the simpletons he worked with try to actually use their brain to carry on a mature conversation. Raven didn't expect that to happen any time soon, though.
He could always go find Jeff Hardy, who had probably already forgotten that Raven had ordered him to leave him alone only seconds earlier, and buy some of his drugs, whatever he happened to have with him. Not that he was particularly fond of them, having just gotten off of an addiction to pain killers within the past few years, but it would give him something to do so that he wouldn't have to think of the hell that was Heat. But no, it was best not to stray down that path at this time. Maybe one day when he really had something extremely bad happen to him, but until then Raven didn't feel the need to get involved with that.
What was he left with then? The thought had crossed his mind to find one of the ring rats that were scarily abundant at the local bars after wrestling shows, but then he remembered what had happened the last time he did that. To put things simply, you couldn't just sit at a bar and not have a drink... or two, or three, or... more than that, and by the time you've had a few beers, your judgment isn't really what it should be, which can lead to very, very bad decisions. Raven left it to that in his mind, not really in the mood to think about the horrendous looking woman he had woken up next to the next morning. No, he definitely wouldn't be doing that.
"To hell with this," Raven muttered to himself. He didn't need anyone right now, he just needed to be by himself, so he would be. There was nothing wrong with a 38-year-old man being entirely by himself once in awhile, at least not to him. With that assurance in mind, Raven changed his direction from his locker room to the parking garage where his rental car awaited him. He had placed his gym bag there earlier, any ways, so he had no need to go back to that room where he would be willing to bet there might be two or three wrestlers he might run in to who would try to talk to him about being placed on Heat.
No, he didn't need that right now.
**********
Sunday Night Heat. Fucking Sunday Night Heat is where they'd banished him to. Well, to be fair, he banished himself to it, but the stupidity of the match stipulation couldn't be described in words. The loser would be put exclusively on Heat? Why? It's not like anybody ever watched that show. It was there so WWE could have a show for its low carders to see how they would fare in the ring with some of the midcarders before bringing them up to Raw. So why in the hell was he being sent there?
Raven gave a disgusted sigh, obviously pissed off about the entire thing. It wasn't his problem that, for once, he had an off night and lost to D'Lo Brown, the no-talent ex-accountant who was the type of wrestler you saw on television and automatically thought, "Now would be a great time to go take a piss." He had no personality, or at least not one that any of the WWE fans could find. His wrestling ability was absolutely nothing special. D'Lo was average, probably worse than average, but Raven was in no mood to really pick out every single one of the wrestler's flaws right then. All he wanted to do was sit by himself, as usual, and mope.
"Hey buddy," the multi-color haired kid known as Jeff Hardy greeted Raven as the defeated wrestler trudged toward the locker room he had been sharing with a few of the other guys, though not by choice. Raven most certainly didn't like Jeff, but because on ONE occasion Raven had helped the guy with his body paint just to get him to shut the hell up, the so-called daredevil of WWE had taken it to mean they were friends.
They weren't.
Raven didn't even raise his head to look at Jeff as he continued with his laborious walk. He wanted nothing to do with anybody right now, especially not this idiot. Besides, he was probably doped up on something to where he really wasn't even sure who Raven was. Everyone was Jeff's "buddy" when he had snorted one too many lines of crack.
"Dude, are you all right?" Jeff asked, trying to get Raven to say something. He now began following the angry wrestler, going so far as to put his arm around Raven's shoulders.
"If you don't remove your arm from my shoulders, I will break it in to two pieces, Hardy" Raven told him, a deadly calm in his voice. It was beyond him if Jeff really even realized what he had said, but he did retract his arm, and that was enough for Raven. "It's none of your business how I am. Go on your own way before I decide that I despise your company enough to do something about it."
"Man, ya gotta chill out," Jeff said. "You're just way too uptight about all this. Heat ain't so bad, dude..."
That was it. Raven couldn't take any more of Jeff's useless talking. He had told him once that he needed to go on his own way and being told once was more than what most people got from him. Raven grabbed the neck of Jeff's shirt and slammed his back against the wall, making sure to get right in the younger Hardy brother's face.
"I don't know if you're too high to understand me, Hardy, but I told you to leave. I didn't ask you to, I didn't suggest it... I told you to. So go!" Raven shouted the last bit, trying for the last time to get the point across to Jeff. He hated Jeff's general personality, a mixture between an ADHD child and someone who had been drinking too much caffeine, but he hated him even more when he had gotten himself to the point where he was just stoned enough to not listen to anything you said.
"Shit, dude... fine, I'm goin'," Jeff replied with a bit of an attitude. Normally, something like that would have made Raven even more mad, but he was happy with the fact that Jeff would now be leaving, so he left it at that. He released the grip he had on Jeff's collar and walked off, resuming the slow walk he had before he was interrupted.
All he wanted to do was take his mind off of all of this for awhile. Raven didn't want to have to think about the hell he had been sentenced to until the next time he absolutely had to. There were only so many things he could do to occupy his time until tomorrow night's house show, though, where he would no doubt have a few more wrestlers try to offer some sort of bizarre sympathy to him because of all of this. It's not that they really cared, though. Most of them were probably happy to see a performer of Raven's caliber sent to a lesser show so he couldn't continue to show them up with his promos and wrestling talent.
So... now what? What was he to do with his time? He had no one to talk to, but then again he never did. There was no one in WWE that he could have a conversation with that dealt with anything beyond wrestling. Not that he particularly enjoyed talking to other people, but occasionally it would be amusing to see one of the simpletons he worked with try to actually use their brain to carry on a mature conversation. Raven didn't expect that to happen any time soon, though.
He could always go find Jeff Hardy, who had probably already forgotten that Raven had ordered him to leave him alone only seconds earlier, and buy some of his drugs, whatever he happened to have with him. Not that he was particularly fond of them, having just gotten off of an addiction to pain killers within the past few years, but it would give him something to do so that he wouldn't have to think of the hell that was Heat. But no, it was best not to stray down that path at this time. Maybe one day when he really had something extremely bad happen to him, but until then Raven didn't feel the need to get involved with that.
What was he left with then? The thought had crossed his mind to find one of the ring rats that were scarily abundant at the local bars after wrestling shows, but then he remembered what had happened the last time he did that. To put things simply, you couldn't just sit at a bar and not have a drink... or two, or three, or... more than that, and by the time you've had a few beers, your judgment isn't really what it should be, which can lead to very, very bad decisions. Raven left it to that in his mind, not really in the mood to think about the horrendous looking woman he had woken up next to the next morning. No, he definitely wouldn't be doing that.
"To hell with this," Raven muttered to himself. He didn't need anyone right now, he just needed to be by himself, so he would be. There was nothing wrong with a 38-year-old man being entirely by himself once in awhile, at least not to him. With that assurance in mind, Raven changed his direction from his locker room to the parking garage where his rental car awaited him. He had placed his gym bag there earlier, any ways, so he had no need to go back to that room where he would be willing to bet there might be two or three wrestlers he might run in to who would try to talk to him about being placed on Heat.
No, he didn't need that right now.