It was Wrestlemania, a time of celebration, where dreams come true. An event where legends came to be honored, where old faces make huge comebacks in great matches that would go down in the history books. It was an event that could make you or break your career. But for this diva, though her loss would not break her career, it was guaranteed to go down in the books as a huge upset. It's not that Mickie wasn't a good wrestler, because truth be told, she was decent…though most of her moves were cheap rip off's from the originator. And though the match went by in a quick blur, somehow the psycho was able to pin her. The beginner pinned the pro. Now she had Trish's belt and Trish's moves.
She slammed the locker, trying to relieve her frustrations. The arena had cleared out for the most part as she made her way out. All she wanted to do was go back to the hotel and relax in a nice hot bath. She picked up the pace, keeping her head fixed to the ground. The last thing she wanted was to talk to anyone. "Stratus, what's with all the sulking?" She glanced up to find Dave Batista walking her way.
They weren't the closest of friends, but they got to know each other better by all the charity events they appeared at together. To say she wasn't extremely attracted to him was an understatement, she's had a thing for him since he's been in Evolution. And how could she not be? Just look at him!
He was dressed to impress this evening in a gray pinstriped suit with a light blue shirt underneath. He's always had impeccable taste and looked great in whatever he wore. "Hey Dave, wow, you're one of the last people I'd expect to run into. I thought you'd be partying it up at all the hot spots." He smirked, "I could say the same for you." Trish looked down, "Yea, I guess you could say I'm not in much of a partying spirit." He nodded, "Yea, I know what you mean." Trish sent him a confused look, "What? Why? You didn't even have a match tonight!" Dave's expression grew serious, "I know! Not being able to take part in it is worse than losing a match at it! At least you got to perform! You didn't have to sit on the sidelines like a gimp!"
"Dave, I got booed at tonight! I'm supposed to be the good guy and they were cheering for the psycho! I was booed and beat by a beginner with my own finishing maneuver!" The conversation was quickly turning ugly. Both individuals were very passionate about their beliefs, and both of them were very stubborn. If the conversation continued in the same direction it was headed, there was a chance they'd both come to blows.
"Ok, ok" Dave put his hands up signaling his submission, "We both present good arguments. We can at least agree on this one thing…it's been a bad night." Trish laughed, "I can accept that…so how do we fix that?" Dave's eyes lit up and an eyebrow raised, "Well, you know what they say the best stress reliever is?" Trish chuckled, "Hmm, I'm not sure…maybe you should jog my memory." Dave smirked as he moved closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her into him. "Well, you're a complete knockout and I'm a pretty good lookin man…" He brought her even closer, whispering in her ear, "Whatta ya say we make a Wrestlemania of our own?" She wrapped her hand around the back of his head, pulling him just inches away from her face. Licking her lips, she barely breathed out, "That's the best idea I've heard all night," smashing her lips against his, "Let's blow this joint…let's go party like rockstars. He nodded "Oh yeah!"