She better have a damn good excuse for being late.
Randy glanced down at his watch for the third time in ten minutes. Trish was supposed to start her shift at 7:00, setting up the bar and getting it ready for the influx of patrons. She was now running a good 45 minutes late with no phone call.
Maybe she wants to be fired, Randy smirked.
Just when Randy was about get on his phone and curse her out, Trish strolled through the bar. Wearing black hot pants and a matching halter, Trish smiled at the bouncers and headed straight to the employee room with Randy on her tail. She then stowed her purse and helmet in her locker and slammed the door, just to be greeted by a smirking Randy Orton.
"Yes, Orton?"
"You're late. You almost got fired tonight." He warned.
Trish feigned worry and then shrugged. "I promise not to do it again." She smiled and proceeded to head out to the bar with Randy once again following her.
The Wood had a scent about it that one could not explain. It was not musty but hot. It was not a stench but warmth that one would find a makeshift bar down in the bayou. There was the atmosphere of being at home, being amongst friends. Everyone had the same issues and similar problems but for one night, none of that mattered.
Trish sighed as she reminisced on what she would miss. The dueling piano shows between Sam "The Man" and Rick "Too Slick." Patrons flirted and sang amongst each other. The one patron betting his friends to see if he could score with the hot blonde bartender, only to be shut down right in front of his boys. Trish and Mickie would talk to five in the morning about how much of an asshole Randy was before switching over to what facial recipes worked best for large pores. Trish impressing everyone with her knowledge of homemade hangover remedies.
She let out a deep sigh as she concentrated on her job. Oh, the memories. She then eyeballed the well liquors to see if they were full and checked behind to see if she needed to restock any of the top shelf liquors. Being organized was giving her a feeling of reassurance that she desperately needed. "I think I'm all set." She thought aloud.
Randy stood directly behind her and grabbed onto Trish's hips. He briefly wondered how she was able to get into the hot pants but it didn't matter for he knew it would take a minute for her to get out of them. "I say that you're all set."
Trish shuddered upon Randy's touch. Besides the fact that she absolutely loathed him, she didn't appreciate Randy forcing himself on another's man woman. Ooh, I can't wait until Dave kills you. "Let go, Orton."
He leaned down and brushed his lips against her earlobe. "You owe me, Stratus. Tonight." He then walked away.
Trish then shook her body as if she was trying to get fleas off her. She then watched Randy flirt with another employee and lead her back into his office. The one thing Trish would definitely not miss was Randy abusing his power every chance he had. He knew many of the employees were college students and he had the best paying job in town. And every chance he had, Randy took advantage of that fact.
If she wanted, Trish could convince Dave and Taker to let her return once she turned. But there was something strangely wicked about knowing Randy's demise that made her smile. "Oh, you're going to get exactly what you deserve, Orton. All of it."
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Closing up shop at three in the morning, Trish wiped off the counter. She counted her last tips and proceeded to go to the employee room. She sat down on one of the benches and looked up at her locker. Her life, as she knew it, would be changed forever. Her heart was heavy and Trish found herself trying to calm down. While she was not going to die, Trish Stratus wasn't going to be alive, neither. And she only had two weeks to prepare herself for what was to come.
However, all of the thoughts of despair were quickly hushed upon Randy's entrance into the employee room. "Stratus, can you see me in my office?" He demanded.
"Yeah, sure." Trish grabbed her helmet and purse and proceeded towards Randy's office.
Trish reluctantly walked into Randy's office. Usually executive offices were structured and organized. Everything would be in place and neatly arranged. Normally an executive's office was neat with a few stacks of correspondence that needed sorting out. If there was a word that could describe Randy Orton's office, unprofessional was it.
But Trish stepped into what she and several co-workers have coined, "The Dungeon." Sporadic files and miscellaneous checks lay around Randy's office. Randy often had to step over files to get to his desk chair.
Yet, the one that was devoid of trash was the casting couch—the long chocolate-colored leather sofa that was flanked by two end tables with accessible bowls full of condoms. Just like the Hollywood directors who would convince young and hungry actresses to perform salacious acts for a role, Randy often used his wealth and charm to convince a girl a strip naked and blow him. He boasted of his success rate, almost ninety percent. Those who did not perform were not called back for second interviews. Those who did were instantly hired.
Trish was the exception. She wasn't interview by Randy, rather his business partner. Yet Randy did not worry; he knew at some point, he was going to tag Trish. Now, his time has come. "Have a seat, Stratus." He motioned towards the couch.
Trish was afraid to sit down. Lord knows what hidden secretions were on it. Just get through this and it'll be fine, Stratus. She carefully sat down; making sure her rear was barely on the sofa. "Yes?"
Randy stood in front of her, smirking. He always knew he could tame the hot-tempered blonde. There was on uneasiness in her eyes, nervousness in her demeanor. And it was exactly where he wanted her.. "I need to talk to you about your poor attitude. You know I've put up with it for a year but you seriously need to change it."
"Fine, I'll change." Trish got up and headed towards the door. Randy rushed over towards Trish and closed the door just as fast as she opened it. "You need to convince me why I shouldn't fire you."
Right about now, I don't think it really matters. "I told you it was going to change, Orton."
Randy locked the door and stroked Trish's neck with his index finger. He moved her blonde hair aside and breathed against her neck. The scent she wore made him crave her. Her very presence made him want not only to screw her but permanently mark her as his own.
Trish closed her eyes and pretended to enjoy what Randy was doing to her. His breath was hot and reeked of several beers. His sweat was running down his face and dripped onto her. In addition, for the life of Trish, she could not possibly fathom what anyone saw in Randy. This is fuckin' disgusting.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as picked her up and laid her down on the sofa. Her stood up to unbuckle his pants and unbutton his shirt while Trish teased Randy by merely unzipping her halter. The tiny fabric barely covered her large breasts and the nipples poked through.
Randy licked his lips in growing anticipation. "You ready, Stratus?"
Trish shook her head. "Not really." She nodded over Randy's right shoulder. "But he is."
Randy was confused. "But who…" He turned around and met Dave's eyes. Randy nearly jumped out of his skin upon seeing Dave. "Dude, how the…"
Before Randy could finish his sentence, Dave sent him flying across the room and slammed into a wall. Randy immediately rushed towards Dave, who froze Randy in time. Dave nodded towards Trish to finish him.
She zipped up her top and walked over to Randy. He was in a lunge pose with his head hanging down. "Is he dead?" She asked.
"Unfortunately, no." Dave replied.
"How long will he stay like this?"
"A couple hours, give or take." Dave glanced at his watch. "Honey, we don't have a lot of time here."
"Okay, okay." Trish then stood back and kicked Randy's face. The first kick relieved a lot of pent-up aggression so she repeated the motion. She clawed at his face and spat on him. Although Dave was sure Trish was getting payback from her treatment, he also knew there was more to her anger. She was retaliating against her family's killers. She was getting her aggression out when she didn't have the chance. For Trish, beating Randy was giving her a sense of twisted closure.
Normally Dave would let Trish attack Randy all night. However, the two hours were nearly exhausted and they need to leave before anyone saw them. "One last shot, Baby." Dave warned.
Trish nodded as she wiped the sweat off her brow. "Okay." She needed to make it good one. With a jumping kick, Trish knocked Randy over, subsequently getting him out of the still state. Randy was about to rush towards Dave again, only to find himself temporary immobile.
Dave walked over to Randy and kneeled in front of him. "You're only alive because Trish felt sympathy towards your pathetic self. But I can guarantee you, you won't ever need to use those condoms again."
"Dude, I'm calling the…" And just as Dave appeared out of thin air, so were he and Trish vanished as if they never existed.
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On the way home, Trish held onto Dave's wrist as he sped her Harley back to his home. While she was still uneasy about turning, her payback on Randy was all the validation and resolution she needed in her living state. Dave turned off the bike and Trish immediately hopped off. He pulled her close and smiled at her. "I'm proud of you, Honey."
Trish blushed. "You are?"
"I am." Dave smiled. "You handled your business with the executive and grace the Family is known for. I'm proud of you and I know the Family is as well."
"Thank you, Baby." Trish kissed him.
"You're welcome." Dave then raised an eyebrow. "But I don't think you exposing your breasts were a part of the plan."
"I didn't expose them, David!" Trish smiled. "My nipples were firmly covered!"
"Your nipples were barely covered." He scoffed as they walked into the home.
"Oh my!" Trish feigned worry. "Is somebody jealous?" She teased.
Dave shot Trish a disbelieving look. "No. I just don't want anyone seeing my woman's breasts." He explained as he copped a feel. "These are my breasts."
Trish brushed Dave's hands away and folded her arms. "Oh, these are yours?"
"Damn right." He said as he led her upstairs.
She shrugged. "I guess it shouldn't matter if you don't see them tonight."
"Now, now, Honey. Let's not be irrational…."