Okay, so this is where things really start getting different. I'm just writing this story as I see it, and I can't help whether or not the readers like the outcome. So sue me; I'm not making any money off of this anyway.
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Lita walked timidly through the dark corriders of the backstage arena. Various stagehands, big men, and scantily clad women bustled past her. No friendly or familiar face was visible. So this was Smackdown.
She turned a corner and nearly ran headlong into Albert. He sneered and pushed past her on his way. She walked on a little more, looking everywhere for the women's locker room. She felt small and unwelcome, like a child that had snuck into a bar. In that same vein, she was wondering what the hell she was doing here.
Totally unsure of where she was going (due Smackdown's different backstage layout), Lita hit a dead end. Seeing a door in one of its corners, she pulled it open and walked through, deciding to take the stairway back to the parking lot and just start over, or perhaps even ask for directions, if she got really desperate.
She was to the next landing down when the door above her slammed open. She ducked down immediately, peeking up through the railing at the scene above her.
Johnny Stamboli had Billy Kidman by the collar up against the wall. "You still owe us money."
"Yeah, I've got it, I just need a few more weeks..."
"You don't have a few more weeks," Chuck Palumbo warned him. "We made the hit on your pretty little ex-girlfriend's new guy, and now you've gotta pay us the full amount."
"Maven's leg had already been broken once; it couldn't have been that hard to reinjure it."
"Then why didn't you do it yourself?" Nunzio asked. "Right, because you couldn't have made it look like an accident. That's why we're professionals. Now listen to me. We need our money in one week, no less. Unless you wanna learn how to wrestle without knee caps." He snapped his fingers. With one last menacing glare for effect, Stamboli dropped him. Kidman skittered through the door and away.
"Glad that's over," Nunzio commented, lighting up a cigarette. "Now we can go have our meeting with Jones about burying the Deadman...Oh, sh*t." His lighter slipped from his fingers and tumbled a few steps, landing a little ways down."
He bent down for it. Lita held her breath. If he so much as moved his eyes to the side, he'd see her.
His fingers brushed over the lighter, grasped it. Lita exhaled a sigh of relief. His head snapped towards her. Their eyes met, equal in panic.
"Get her!"
She flew, taking the stairs 3, 4 at a time, but her stride was no match for Chuck's. He reached out with his long arm, grabbed her gymbag, and she quickly shrugged it off her shoulder, escaping him and enabling herself to move a little faster.
She jumped the railing of the last 6 stairs and landed on her feet, throwing open the basement door as she ran across the parking garage, the Full Blooded Italians right behind her.
Lita wove among cars and equipment, hoping they wouldn't be able to circle her before she made her way back in the building. She looked over her shoulder.
All three of them had stopped just a few feet behind her and were staring straight ahead. She herself stopped and faced them. They paid her no attention.
Taking their disinterest as a blessing, Lita turned to walk away and bumped into something tall and solid. She looked up...up...
The Undertaker ignored her, looking straight over her head back at the F.B.I. They shuffled away, in no shape to fight after the strenuous chase. Taker kept his eyes on them until they'd disappeared from sight. It was then that he looked down at Lita.
"What are you doing here?"
"N-nothing," she managed. "I was just looking for the women's locker room."
"That's not what I meant. Why are you here? Period. I thought you had a pretty good thing going on Monday night."
Her mind worked quickly, clicking things into place, examining every possibility. None of them looked good. "Here I am, on a show where I have no allies, much less friends. The first thing I accomplish (besides getting hopelessly lost) is overhearing a plot by the Smackdown hitmen which is geared at my best friend's brother/arch rival, who, incidentally, is the person who saves me from said hitmen, intentionally or not."
"I-I switched shows," she stammered. He shrugged. "Fair enough. So what did you have those guys so pissed about?"
She shrugged, and he chuckled a little. "Real talkative one, ain't ya? No wonder you and my brother get along so well."
Lita swallowed the lump in her throat. Oh, this was bad. This potentially had very negative consequences.
"Well, I gotta go...um..." She turned to make a quick retreat, and Taker's hand fell on her shoulder. Not hard, but enough to show her that if she tried to pull away, she couldn't. She turned slowly back to face him.
He peered down at her as if he was deciding something. "Women's locker room is back through those double doors and to the left," he finally said. "On the right side of that hall. Can't miss it."
"Oh, um...thanks," she nodded and turned again to leave. "Why are you going that way?" he called.
"I dropped my bag back there," she answered, looking back a little but keeping on walking. With a few long strides he'd caught up to her. "No sense in you going back this way by yourself after that little run-in you just had."
"Why do you care?" she asked, and snapped her mouth shut. "My stupid big mouth..." she thought.
His sharp green eyes glared down at her. "I'm not the bad guy you've been made to believe I am," he said quietly.
"Maybe not, but I'm stupid enough to think that you give a sh*t about me," she contested.
"No, I don't," he replied candidly.
"So what do you want?"
"I want Kane's forgiveness."
"I can't grant that." She picked up her gym bag and started to walk away. He grabbed her arm, more roughly this time.
"No, but you can help me get it. Or at least help me to make him listen."
"Forget it."
The Undertaker pushed her back against the wall, arms held to her sides. He wasn't hurting her, it was merely a show of power. "This is almost worse than Triple H or Orton, though," Lita reasoned. "It's intimidating how much control he has. He's not going to get frustrated and make a mistake, and I can't fool him into thinking I'm not scared. He'll see right through it." She glared back up at him, just the same. He merely smirked.
"Little girl, you're lucky I'm not pissed with my baby brother right now. I could certainly use you to hurt him. As it is right now, you'll just make some fine bait."
"What do you want?"
"I told you. Forgiveness."
"And how do you think you're gonna get that?"
"Well you've made it pretty easy for me. For whatever reason in that pretty little head of yours, you decided to leave everything you had going for you behind and run away to Smackdown. Now you've got a bunch of big, scary guys here mad at you, and no one to help you out at all."
"Dave's here. We parted on pretty good terms. And what do you mean, a 'bunch' of big scary guys? The only ones I'm aware of are in the F.B.I."
"You should have done better research before you jumped ship. Your buddy Batista went and tore his ACL two days ago, so he's out for some time. And Nathan Jones and Brock Lesnar never actually went to RAW; they were just doing some contract work for Evolution. So right now the odds are stacked against you."
"I suppose that's where you come in?"
"Smart girl. So since you're here, poor little damsel in distress, all alone, I'm gonna take pity on you and look after my baby brother's girl."
"I don't need anyone to look after me." Lita pushed him hard in the chest, catching him by surprise and giving her time and space enough to slip away from him. "And you're only gonna piss Kane off more. He's very possessive. And another thing...I'm not his girl."
"You believe that even less than I do. Besides, I know you can't say no to the assistance. You need it too badly. It's not like you could get rid of me even if you tried."
He turned to walk away, and turned back after a few steps to add one reminder. "You're not queen of this show. You don't have a small army at your beck-and-call. You're nobody here. The sooner you can remember that, the easier it'll be for you."
He walked off again, leaving Lita to heave up her gym bag and head toward locker room on her own.
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Told you it was getting weird.
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Lita walked timidly through the dark corriders of the backstage arena. Various stagehands, big men, and scantily clad women bustled past her. No friendly or familiar face was visible. So this was Smackdown.
She turned a corner and nearly ran headlong into Albert. He sneered and pushed past her on his way. She walked on a little more, looking everywhere for the women's locker room. She felt small and unwelcome, like a child that had snuck into a bar. In that same vein, she was wondering what the hell she was doing here.
Totally unsure of where she was going (due Smackdown's different backstage layout), Lita hit a dead end. Seeing a door in one of its corners, she pulled it open and walked through, deciding to take the stairway back to the parking lot and just start over, or perhaps even ask for directions, if she got really desperate.
She was to the next landing down when the door above her slammed open. She ducked down immediately, peeking up through the railing at the scene above her.
Johnny Stamboli had Billy Kidman by the collar up against the wall. "You still owe us money."
"Yeah, I've got it, I just need a few more weeks..."
"You don't have a few more weeks," Chuck Palumbo warned him. "We made the hit on your pretty little ex-girlfriend's new guy, and now you've gotta pay us the full amount."
"Maven's leg had already been broken once; it couldn't have been that hard to reinjure it."
"Then why didn't you do it yourself?" Nunzio asked. "Right, because you couldn't have made it look like an accident. That's why we're professionals. Now listen to me. We need our money in one week, no less. Unless you wanna learn how to wrestle without knee caps." He snapped his fingers. With one last menacing glare for effect, Stamboli dropped him. Kidman skittered through the door and away.
"Glad that's over," Nunzio commented, lighting up a cigarette. "Now we can go have our meeting with Jones about burying the Deadman...Oh, sh*t." His lighter slipped from his fingers and tumbled a few steps, landing a little ways down."
He bent down for it. Lita held her breath. If he so much as moved his eyes to the side, he'd see her.
His fingers brushed over the lighter, grasped it. Lita exhaled a sigh of relief. His head snapped towards her. Their eyes met, equal in panic.
"Get her!"
She flew, taking the stairs 3, 4 at a time, but her stride was no match for Chuck's. He reached out with his long arm, grabbed her gymbag, and she quickly shrugged it off her shoulder, escaping him and enabling herself to move a little faster.
She jumped the railing of the last 6 stairs and landed on her feet, throwing open the basement door as she ran across the parking garage, the Full Blooded Italians right behind her.
Lita wove among cars and equipment, hoping they wouldn't be able to circle her before she made her way back in the building. She looked over her shoulder.
All three of them had stopped just a few feet behind her and were staring straight ahead. She herself stopped and faced them. They paid her no attention.
Taking their disinterest as a blessing, Lita turned to walk away and bumped into something tall and solid. She looked up...up...
The Undertaker ignored her, looking straight over her head back at the F.B.I. They shuffled away, in no shape to fight after the strenuous chase. Taker kept his eyes on them until they'd disappeared from sight. It was then that he looked down at Lita.
"What are you doing here?"
"N-nothing," she managed. "I was just looking for the women's locker room."
"That's not what I meant. Why are you here? Period. I thought you had a pretty good thing going on Monday night."
Her mind worked quickly, clicking things into place, examining every possibility. None of them looked good. "Here I am, on a show where I have no allies, much less friends. The first thing I accomplish (besides getting hopelessly lost) is overhearing a plot by the Smackdown hitmen which is geared at my best friend's brother/arch rival, who, incidentally, is the person who saves me from said hitmen, intentionally or not."
"I-I switched shows," she stammered. He shrugged. "Fair enough. So what did you have those guys so pissed about?"
She shrugged, and he chuckled a little. "Real talkative one, ain't ya? No wonder you and my brother get along so well."
Lita swallowed the lump in her throat. Oh, this was bad. This potentially had very negative consequences.
"Well, I gotta go...um..." She turned to make a quick retreat, and Taker's hand fell on her shoulder. Not hard, but enough to show her that if she tried to pull away, she couldn't. She turned slowly back to face him.
He peered down at her as if he was deciding something. "Women's locker room is back through those double doors and to the left," he finally said. "On the right side of that hall. Can't miss it."
"Oh, um...thanks," she nodded and turned again to leave. "Why are you going that way?" he called.
"I dropped my bag back there," she answered, looking back a little but keeping on walking. With a few long strides he'd caught up to her. "No sense in you going back this way by yourself after that little run-in you just had."
"Why do you care?" she asked, and snapped her mouth shut. "My stupid big mouth..." she thought.
His sharp green eyes glared down at her. "I'm not the bad guy you've been made to believe I am," he said quietly.
"Maybe not, but I'm stupid enough to think that you give a sh*t about me," she contested.
"No, I don't," he replied candidly.
"So what do you want?"
"I want Kane's forgiveness."
"I can't grant that." She picked up her gym bag and started to walk away. He grabbed her arm, more roughly this time.
"No, but you can help me get it. Or at least help me to make him listen."
"Forget it."
The Undertaker pushed her back against the wall, arms held to her sides. He wasn't hurting her, it was merely a show of power. "This is almost worse than Triple H or Orton, though," Lita reasoned. "It's intimidating how much control he has. He's not going to get frustrated and make a mistake, and I can't fool him into thinking I'm not scared. He'll see right through it." She glared back up at him, just the same. He merely smirked.
"Little girl, you're lucky I'm not pissed with my baby brother right now. I could certainly use you to hurt him. As it is right now, you'll just make some fine bait."
"What do you want?"
"I told you. Forgiveness."
"And how do you think you're gonna get that?"
"Well you've made it pretty easy for me. For whatever reason in that pretty little head of yours, you decided to leave everything you had going for you behind and run away to Smackdown. Now you've got a bunch of big, scary guys here mad at you, and no one to help you out at all."
"Dave's here. We parted on pretty good terms. And what do you mean, a 'bunch' of big scary guys? The only ones I'm aware of are in the F.B.I."
"You should have done better research before you jumped ship. Your buddy Batista went and tore his ACL two days ago, so he's out for some time. And Nathan Jones and Brock Lesnar never actually went to RAW; they were just doing some contract work for Evolution. So right now the odds are stacked against you."
"I suppose that's where you come in?"
"Smart girl. So since you're here, poor little damsel in distress, all alone, I'm gonna take pity on you and look after my baby brother's girl."
"I don't need anyone to look after me." Lita pushed him hard in the chest, catching him by surprise and giving her time and space enough to slip away from him. "And you're only gonna piss Kane off more. He's very possessive. And another thing...I'm not his girl."
"You believe that even less than I do. Besides, I know you can't say no to the assistance. You need it too badly. It's not like you could get rid of me even if you tried."
He turned to walk away, and turned back after a few steps to add one reminder. "You're not queen of this show. You don't have a small army at your beck-and-call. You're nobody here. The sooner you can remember that, the easier it'll be for you."
He walked off again, leaving Lita to heave up her gym bag and head toward locker room on her own.
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Told you it was getting weird.