Tuesday, 6:00 pm est. Time: Hartford, Conn.:

Candice was doing a photo shoot for Maxine Magazine when her cell phone began to beep. Although she was busy, she decided to answer, thinking it was either Victoria or Torrie.

"Hello?"

"Hello, why Candice, is that you?" Vince asked apathetically. The sound of Candice's soft, harmonious voice was soothing to his very ears.

"Yea, hello, Vince, how may I be of service?" Candice asked as she peered around her inside the studio; hopefully no one was listening in on their conversation. So she glanced around her to make sure. Yep, the coast was absolutely clear. Thank god! Because whenever Vince called, it usually wasn't a good sign.

"I was wondering, you available for this coming Saturday? I might have something in mind that you could do for me. You know, a slight favor, if you will…."

"It depends….what do you need me to do for you?" She then listened in as the boss told her of his plan in store that he had for Shawn Michaels. A smile couldn't help but creep across her face by the very sound of it. "Why certainly I will be available. A skit, huh? What kind of skit?"

"You will just have to see…..but for right now I just need an answer; yes or no?"

"Yes, Mr. McMahon, anything you say……anything else you need?"

"Nope, that is all for now, and Oh! Remember to bring a lot of money with you this Saturday, because you are going to need it…."

"Ok? Will do, just call if you think of anything else. I have to go; the photo shoot is almost completed." She turned to the sound of the photographer's voice calling after her.

"Ok, I will let you go then. And, thanks so much again, you are such a great help. We will see you this weekend then." And without warning, Vince disconnected his line; leaving Candice to listen to the dial tone ringing in her ear. She sighed as she hung up, not having the slightest idea of what the boss actually wanted to accomplish. All he had told her was that she was needed for a skit this coming weekend that was going to be featuring Shawn Michaels. And then he had mentioned something about Monday Night Raw. The details were all but clear to her as she tried to think, 'what on earth does he need me to do a skit for? That sounds absolutely pointless! And why Shawn Michaels?' Her train of thought didn't last much longer however, when out of nowhere, the photographer walked up behind her, startling her.

"Hey, Candice….just ten more shots, and we'll be done, alright? Let's go!" She then followed as the photo shoot continued. This was going to be a long evening!

Meanwhile, MCI Center, Washington D.C.-the same time:

Vince hung up the phone for the second time that evening with an even bigger smile than he had had in a long time. He just got done talking to his son, Shane, in regards to Saturday. This weekend was going to be special, and he could feel it already. What he was planning for Shawn would come as a shock of a lifetime for anyone who knew the exact plans he had in mind. Slowly, these plans were growing into something Vince could only dream of; but nonetheless, come this Saturday; they would all start to become a reality. Suddenly, a knock at the door caught his attention. The person on the other side was none other than Kurt Angle himself, once again.

"Kurt! How's your day going?"

"Vince," Kurt gasped, "we need to really talk, NOW!" Kurt paced frantically as Vince tried to calm him down. Just what was the matter with him?

"What? What's the matter Kurt?"

"Are you absolutely sure, Shawn is going to be here tonight?"

"Yes, why? If he's not, I can seriously change that…"

"Well, I suggest you do, and quickly!"

"Just what is your problem? How dare you talk to me that way! You know, I outta spit in your face! You conniving bastard!" Vince went to go after the phone when Kurt's hand touched his arm. Not a smart move of that man, Vince recalled to himself.

"Vince, I don't know how to tell you this, but I think someone listened in on our conversation the other night! And I think that someone was Shawn himself!"

"WHAT! Who told you this?"

"Why else wouldn't he be here? Really think about it, Vince!" Kurt looked up at him pathetically as Vince tried to think to himself. He then began to laugh some more.

"Listen, that is your paranoia getting to you, ok? I honestly don't think he really listened in, after all, he wasn't even in the arena completely when we spoke, don't you remember?" Kurt finally relaxed, Vince was right after all.

"Ok, then why isn't he here, I thought we had a plan?" Thinking quickly, Vince picked up his cell phone for the third time that evening, this time, however, it was to call Shawn himself.

"Yes, Shawn, uh, where are you, if I can ask?" Vince finally asked.

"Oh, I am stuck in traffic……this damn driver in front of me don't know what a green light means, obviously.-hey, move it, buddy!" Shawn called out to no one in particular. Vince could almost imagine the driver who was sitting in front of Shawn, currently ruining his plans. The boss growled with agitation as Shawn went silent over the line.

"What's the matter? Hey, I'm sorry, but I can't help it if traffic sucks down in D.C., alright?"

"Oh, you better help it, because if you are not in this arena in the next fifteen minutes, your ass is screwed, buddy!" He hung up the phone as Kurt looked on. "Don't worry, he'll make it here, and we will make our plan work, if it's the last thing we ever do…."

15 Minutes Later:

"Why the hell, hey Carlito," Shawn called out as he made his way through the exit doors, "you hear from Vince tonight by any chance?" he happened to see the look on his face, and it had shock written all over it.

"Oh, no, I haven't….but I have heard that he has been in that office all day. I don't know why though."

"Ok, thanks…..I appreciate it." Shawn then passed him by as he walked toward the boss's domain.

"Seriously though..." Kurt said as he heard yet another knock at the door. "Oh Jesus! What now?" Shawn then came walking in, with not such a happy look on his face. Kurt and Vince then fell silent. "Hey, Shawn…..you finally made it I see…."

"Yea….if you say so." Shawn dropped his bag as he glared at Vince; just what on earth was going on?

"Shawn, yes, you have a match tonight, against Kurt….so get ready…" Vince growled once again. Shawn didn't hesitate, whatever was pissing the boss off had to do with something involving him, so he walked out the door peacefully, acting as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"From Pennsylvania, Kurt Angle!" the announcer cried out as Shawn stood in the center of the ring, waiting for his opponent. After several moments, Kurt finally came out to his entrance music, but not before getting Shawn to wonder to himself, however. The match was finally underway as the two locked up. But instead of shaking his hand, Kurt just backed away.

'Must be trying to sell some heat,' Shawn thought as he put him into an arm lock. The match didn't seem to last long, though, when out of nowhere, Kurt unrepentantly grabbed his ankle. And this time, unlike all the other times, he grabbed and pulled hard! So much so that Shawn literally thought he was going to lose his ankle by the end of the night!

"AAAHHHHH! OUCH! KURT, LET GO!" But instead, Kurt just seethed with frustration.

"Tap you mofo! Tap!" He screamed beyond Shawn's outburst of cries. Finally, he grabbed the ropes signaling for a break in the submission hold. Kurt growled like an animal that had been let out of its cage as he began to beat down upon the Icon. Once the submission hold had been broken, Kurt about lost it. He had to find some way to make Shawn suffer, or his chances of pleasing the boss would be slim to none. Thinking fast, he went outside of the ring and grabbed a pre planted baseball bat from underneath the announcer's table. 'This should do the trick!' He got back into the ring and backed Shawn up into a corner with a smile on his face.

"Oh man, Kurt….don't do this, what are you thinking? Come on, don't do this, No!" Kurt then began to lash out at the man, slugging him in the head so many times he could barely keep count he was swinging so hard. This was followed by him swinging the bat straight into Shawn's throat, cutting off precious air. As the Olympian continued to beat him down to a bloody heap, he began to lose consciousness; and then before he knew it, everything around him had faded to black.

Note: Well, I hope you liked so far…..please R&R! Thanks!