Uncommon Sense Chapter 3

By Batistafan

Rating - NC-17 for violence

Distribution: If you would like to add this story to your site that's fine, just let me know.

Main Characters include: Batista, Triple H, Chris Jericho, Christy Hemme, Nancy Adams (Original Character).

Disclaimer: This is a mature fanfiction intended for mature readers. This story contains violence, coarse language, as well as mature sexual situations (some may consider explicit), and these would not be deemed appropriate for all readers.

I do not own nor claim to have any affiliation with the WWE, its characters, wrestlers, staff or other affiliates. I do own any original characters that I have created, as well as scenarios that ensue throughout the course of this fiction. However, since both my characters and scenarios are inexorably intertwined with those of the WWE, my ownership of them is not autonomous.

I do not endorse nor do I discourage the use of any brand-name products that might be referenced in the fiction and have no claim to them as they are property of their respective companies of license. Thank you kindly for not suing.

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"Where humor is concerned there are no standards - no one can say what is good or bad, although you can be sure that everyone will."

John Kenneth Galbraith
US (Canadian-born) administrator & economist (1908 - 2006)

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The sky broke open, flooding the dry Arizona ground with much needed rain and gave Nancy and the rest of the WWE RAW Wardrobe and make-up team another reason to complain. As if they didn't have one already. On top of being horribly cramped inside of the bus, someone on the make-up team had left behind an entire cart of supplies, for which a team member had been forced to rent a car and drive halfway back to retrieve.

The bus, at one time comfortable and on-time, had somehow snapped a driveshaft, sending the useless hunk of metal flying backward into the front of a Toyota full of under-aged, college kids. Luckily no one had been hurt, but office staff and insurance underwriters had to be called, even as the wardrobe and make-up teams paced back and forth outside of the bus, on the side of the 2 lane highway in 100 plus, degree heat.

After almost five hours of waiting, another bus arrived from a company contracted by various different sports teams, as well as the WWE when an emergency arose. All of the staff had climbed aboard and shuffled, pressed and squeezed equipment and bodies into every conceivable space on the bus.

"I'm buying a damned van!" Max spat as he 'harrumphed' and huffed and puffed, slamming his wadded jacket down onto his lap. "I'm buying a damned van, and I'm putting you and me and all our shit on it…and to hell with all these other assholes." He wiped at the sweat that began to form on his upper lip. "I'm tired of tryin' to squish my fat ass on the same bus with 'Tammy Faye Baker Maker' over here." He hitched his thumb over his shoulder to indicate his arch enemy, the head make-up artist. Max was rewarded with a glare and the finger from the equally pissed off make-up artist.

Nancy patted his shoulder as she shuffled into the seat next to him, trying to think of anything but the heat that was presently closing in on them like a fog. "A little air-conditioning, please." She said loudly enough for the driver to hear. After peeking over the seat in front of her she could see that the flustered driver was already busy fiddling with the controls above his head. The bus rumbled to life and the air-conditioner seemed to be working, but then it screamed a sharp, high-pitched mechanical wail and sputtered to a complete halt.

"Oh Hell." Max leaned forward until his forehead hit the seat in front of him. He pulled his head back and let it slam into the seat two more times. He then pretended to cry and pitched sideways as if to lay his head in Nancy's lap.

Nancy laughed and ruffled his hair. "Poor baby." She could certainly empathize with Max and she was dealing with the whole predicament surprisingly better than she thought she would. All those on the bus agreed to slap open the windows and free-ball it down the highway, not much else was left to do considering that they had another two hours to drive. WWE - RAW had a house show starting in two hours and those on the bus were now in a time zone that was an hour behind. They would surely make it, but only if no more adversity chose to strike.

Now with the windows open and rain ripping through the curtain of the sky like tiny liquid daggers, the bus rumbled down the road. Max and Nancy made the best of it by leaning closer to the window and letting the rain soak their faces. The two of them began to tell jokes and talk about their days as fledgling seamstress and sewers for interior design venues, recounting the good, the bad and the ugly.

The bus finally rattled to a stop in the back of the arena, but the rain was not stopping. This meant that every last stitch of equipment had to be unloaded in a downpour. Max had taken to cursing up a storm as he dragged his share of sewing machines, sergers, ironing boards, and cases of different incidentals, into the arena. Nancy was on one end of a large trunk, containing fabric and Max was on the other spewing four letter words, when, without warning, his foot hit a wet spot on the highly polished arena floor. His leg went out from underneath him, causing his body to pitch forward. Max fell. face first onto the top of the heavy trunk.

Nothing could have prepared Max for the fall, and he slid off of the side of the trunk coming to rest on his back in the middle of the floor.

Nancy was too overtaken by laughter to even render him aid. She simply sat back on her haunches, next to the trunk, with her face in her hands and guffawed.

"Well…" remarked Vicki, the head make-up artist, a mid thirties woman with a slender build and black spiky hair, and without a doubt Max's arch nemesis. "I guess if you don't need my skin care advice…" She tapped her purse against her perfectly flat belly. "Maybe you'll take my advice about losing some weight." Vicki smirked and tossed a kleenex onto Max's chest. "Be sure and wipe up that water before someone else slips in it." And with a wink and a grin she was gone.

Max was fuming as he turned awkwardly from his back to his side, trying to get a better look at Nancy. "You gonna let her get away with talking to me like that?" He reached forward to take Nancy's outstretched hand.

A giggle still bubbling up from her throat, she grasped Max's hand in an effort to help him stand. "I'll get her next time…besides…if I didn't know you better; I'd think you kinda liked it." She groaned and pulled him up with all her might and began to brush his back off.

"Yeah, well, you never were a very good body guard anyway." He scowled and stooped over again to drag the trunk.