The money strutted down to the ring, and dollar signs had never been more attractive… or hated. Shane and Randy escorted Stacy. Dave escorted Trish and Stephanie. Behind them, a detail of security walked stiffly, their eyes perusing the crowd for any signs of threat towards their charges.
The Regime, as they were calling themselves, had arrived over half an hour late to Raw. They didn't have excuses. There were no proclamations that business had to be completed or traffic was bad. Plain and simple, they could show up whenever they felt like it, and they hadn't felt like breaking up their ongoing celebration quite yet.
They parted from their security detail and made their way up the steel stairs. Shane and Randy went up first, then sat down on the ropes. They both grinned as Stacy made her way over, sliding her hands along the top rope. She leaned to one side and kissed Randy on the lips. She leaned to the other and kissed Shane on the cheek. Then, with her back towards Randy, she bent over slowly and tossed one leg over the middle rope. She stopped, looked to either side, then put her other leg in. Shane and Randy looked at one another, grinned, then slipped easily into the ring.
Dave came up next and perched on the ropes, nearest to the stairs. He took Stephanie's hand as she took the last step, then pressed down harder on the rope so she could step over. As she stepped over, her skirt rose up and he bent forward to quickly jerk it down, letting the crowd know that they weren't seeing anything from the boss. Once Stephanie was inside, Dave slid into the ring and let the ropes bounce back together. Trish stood on the other side and peeked her head through the top and middle ropes. Dave came to her, pushed down the second rope with one hand, then wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her inside as their lips met.
The men all wore similar black suits, all high class and perfectly pressed. The only differences were their shirts and ties, or lack thereof. Shane wore a white shirt beneath his suit with a black embroidered tie. Randy opted against the tie, going instead with a very soft blue shirt with a high collar that stood open and framing his neck. Dave rounded out the group with his usual flashy accessories, a medium blue shirt with a stiff white collar. His tie was a blend of various shades of blue and purple with sparkling veins. It was a look that only he would have been able to pull off.
Stephanie stood tall in a deep red blouse that was covered by her black suit jacket. Her skirt was of appropriate length, falling just to her knees. She was trying to neither show off her legs or hide them. Her shoes were comfortable, a low heel pushing her slightly taller. Her hair fell down her back in straight strands, with bangs cut to meet her eyebrows in the front. Looking out over the crowd, she knew that she owned each and every one of them, and she stood in her professional ensemble with enough poise to radiate that knowledge.
Stacy leaned against Randy, draping her body over him as easily as her flowing dress draped over her body. On the right, the dress ended in a swooping dive about mid-thigh. The hem of the sparkling baby blue dress crossed her legs and came to a halt in a point just above her left ankle. Clear heels that she likened to her own crystal slippers pushed her height up so far that she was the same height as Randy. As her head leaned to the side, bumping the side of Randy's head, her hair fell over her shoulders. Everyone screamed at them, jeers coming from every corner of the arena, but Stacy didn't care. Her languid pose on Randy's body was more than a photo opportunity. It showed just how little she gave a damn about the people on the other side of the barricades.
Trish's rich satin heels didn't push her up nearly as high as Stacy's had, but they got her high enough that she could fully extend her arm and rest her hand on Dave's shoulder without standing on tiptoe. She stood with him as though they were a billboard couple. Her dress was a fused conglomeration the colors that made his tie sparkle and fell about three inches above her knees. The straps were thin and barely existant. Her hair was pulled up in a mass of randomly pinned curls. She could finally show not only her allegiance with the McMahons, but just how much she had truly gotten out of the bargain. She wanted Dave, she got Dave, and there was no better way to show that than to stand like something out of a high-end catalogue.
The music stopped playing. The crowd continued to scream. That didn't stop Shane from picking up a microphone and pulling a sheet of paper out of his pocket. It was the same paper he'd had at the pay-per-view the night before. "If you people are finished!" They started to scream again, but unlike others who might have waited for it to die down, he just continued. "You people act like anybody in this ring really care what you have to say." He smirked. "Haven't you figured it out, yet? We are the masters of the universe. We are the kings of the world. We are the light in your miserable, pathetic lives!"
Stephanie took the microphone from him and smirked. "You know… we might as well get to the true point of this whole thing so we can get back to our party. We'd let Batista tell you why he chose to win, but…" She turned and gestured towards Batista and Trish. "…are you really that stupid to not know why?"
As expected, the "You sold out" chants erupted through the arena, but they got no rise from the new World Champion. When he first came to the ring, his belt was around his waist. Since coming inside the ring, it had moved and now hung over his shoulder. Dave looked around and there was nothing but gold in the ring with them. Trish let hers drape over her shoulder. Randy was in the process of taking his off and fastening it around Stacy's waist.
The chants continued and Dave stepped forward. He took his tinted shades from his face, then leaned forward to the microphone in Stephanie's hand. He looked to Stephanie, winked, then turned back to the crowd and said, "You're damn right I did." He stepped back and retook his place beside Trish. The golden pair stood to Shane McMahon's left. The Intercontinental Champion and his gold-bearing girlfriend stood to Shane's right.
"Well, there's your answer." Stephanie smirked and turned towards Trish. "Anything to add?"
Trish smirked, thought for a second, then laughed. "No. But, can we hurry it along? We've got things to do."
Stephanie shook her head and turned to Randy and Stacy. "Either of you have anything to say before we go forward with business?"
Randy and Stacy traded a glance, then Randy stepped forward. He leaned into the microphone and said, "Just that I would like to thank everyone here who was behind me and… No, wait. What am I saying? I didn't need any of you idiots out there, just like I said in the first place. So take your chants and go back to your Dorito's or whatever it is that losers like you stuff your faces with. Stacy and I have better things to do."
"Very well said, Randy." Stephanie laughed and turned back to the crowd. "Okay, let's get this done. I do believe you're all wondering why no one has seen Eric Bischoff tonight, or Triple H. Well… simply put… Eric Bischoff has been fired, our father has been committed because he's freaking insane and we've taken over the company."
Shane retook the microphone and held up the paper. "This right here is a decree from the Board of Directors that puts Stephanie and I back in full control of this company. You see, Dad seemed to forget that he trained us for this damn near since birth. He thought we'd never act on it. Well… sorry, Dad. Granted, Mom's a little upset that we had Dad tossed in the loony bin, but come on, people, admit it. You all know he's crazy."
Stephanie took the mic. "And he is crazy. The doctors said so. Thus, we've taken over, and now, we'd like to introduce you to your new Raw General Manager." The horns started to blow and everyone in the arena instantly rose. Ric Flair came out of the curtain and stood at the stage. He tossed a wave towards the ring and Stephanie laughed before handing the microphone back to her brother.
"That's right, folks! And don't bother asking Flair why he sold out because, well… has he ever given you an explanation?" He laughed and shook his head. "Seriously now, folks. Let's move this along. Triple H… Ah, yes… the Game. The number one man on this show. Well, he's now the number one asshole on Velocity. Now, that's enough business. It's time to party."
"And tonight," Stephanie said, leaning into the microphone, "we're going to put Coach in charge, because Ric has to come out and party. So, all of you in the locker room, I'd advise you to be nice, and when you're done being nice, practice your ass kissing. I'm sure you'll need it."
"Oh, and Smackdown?" Shane smirked. "Be ready, because we're on our way there on Thursday."
The microphone dropped.
The fans jumped to their feet.
And the Regime met the Nature Boy at the stage and went off to party.
