Dangerous Business
RAW is War
9:15 P.M.
Vincent Kennedy McMahon had many, many pet peeves, and one of them was being interrupted, especially during the middle of a huge announcement. However, one Elizabeth Smith did not have any regard for his preferences. After he had announced the two commissioners, and after they had their speeches on how great the shows would become, Vince had taken the microphone once again, to finish off the segment.
However, the blaring music of Linkin Park cut him off.
Liz stood at the top of the ramp, unmoving as her own pyrotechnics blasted around her. The bright flashes reflected in her open eyes. The normally angry and determined jade eyes were gone, replaced with something that made everyone in the ring uneasy. No true emotion seemed to come through her; no confidence radiating from her body as it always had. In fact, as the music stopped and she continued to stare down at him and the commissioners, Vince McMahon shrunk back.
It was the look of a predator's gaze on prey.
A black microphone with the telltale WWE logo on it was clutched in her right hand as she walked slowly down to the ring. She didn't acknowledge her fans; just kept her eyes on the three men with distaste. When she slid into the ring, her penetrating gaze swung to Vince, ignoring the two others. He stood with his eyes narrowed and arms crossed.
He wasn't expecting the treatment she gave him.
The brunette stood; her microphone to her lips as if going to speak, giving Vince a false sense of security. In the timeline of a second, she spun 360 degrees. Her right leg kicked out on the turn, slamming into his hip. The microphone in her hand impaled the side of his skull, barely missing his eye.
The two commissioners looked equally shocked. They both took a step back as she turned to them. Finally, she focused on the new RAW commissioner, who eyed her back just the same.
Liz walked up to him, so that they were both nose to nose. Her hand curled around the collar of his crisp shirt. "I want a match…now," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.
"Get your hands off of me! Do you even know who I am??? I'm Eric Bischoff, damn it!" the black-haired man howled. Showing no sign of annoyance, she released him harshly, sending him stumbling back a couple steps. Eric quickly straightened his shirt, and then glared at Liz. Suddenly, he faced the fans. "Do you guys want to see Ms. Smith in a match tonight?" he asked, his voice booming. The fans cheered wildly, and Liz cocked an eyebrow, waiting for a response. Eric shrugged and nodded his head. "Well, okay then, you have a match." She was turning to leave when he stopped her again. "You might want to go and get a more…appropriate outfit for the match, though," he suggested, pointing toward the attire she wore for most matches. "You see, you have yet to prove yourself to me on this show," he hissed. "You're just another prissy girl…only you're not as sexy. So tonight… It will be Liz Smith versus Jackie Gayda," he was stopped by a shower of boos. Liz turned and stepped up to him. He finished with a wide smile on his face, "In a mud-wrestling match."
Eric hit the mat faster than Vince, a la Stunner.
The audience leapt to their feet, waiting for the beating that was sure to begin.
It never started.
Liz turned away from Eric's fallen body and looked at the Smackdown commissioner: the one and only Ric Flair. A promising smile covered her face for a moment, and then she slid out of the ring, walking swiftly into the backstage area.
Inside the ring, Ric checked on Mr. McMahon, worry ebbing at him. Liz smiling that devious grin was troubling… The fact that she didn't attempt to kick his ass even more troubling.
She was up to something…
Author's Note: Sorry for so long lengths between updates! And sorry this one was so short! Anyway, please review!