CHAPTER 4:
Samantha, The Hoarder
Samantha scratched her head with a perplexed mind to the itinerary before her since she'd never heard of a few of the hotels she and the others would be staying in within a matter of days. The unknown always gave her a queasy feeling in the gut and she hoped that this time, it wouldn't lead to anything catastrophic. She'd tried to find more about the lodgings online but got squat in her search engine. All she could do was hope that everything would be set or else she'd be scrambling to find information from all of the departments and having her ear yelled off by the bosses of each as to why she didn't keep a step ahead. That was not a comforting thought in the slightest.
Just keep optimistic, I mean, what's the worst that could happen in a hotel?, she thought nervously as she dared to think of the impossible but unless a plane crashed into it or a disastrous earthquake hit, anything else would be fine. Otherwise, she'd be getting beaten to a pulp by harps in heaven by the dead superstars. Not a nice way to spend eternity with Ted yelling in your ear.
"Sam, let your fingers breathe before they melt into the keys" Nattie spoke up with gentle chiding to her nonstop clacks as the dark-haired woman tried to track down every bit of information she could find. The blond, however, was trying to tune it out with her music player but the clacking managed to bypass her earphones.
I need to buy decent noise-cancelling earphones, she thought grumpily and tore the pink earpieces from her ears with a simple yank. Staring at the little troublemakers, she sighed aloud to release mental steam, That's the last time I let TJ buy things from a gas station without my opinion. Men are not shop savvy.
Samantha noticed her movements from the corner of her eyes and a small smile hitched at her unpainted lips as she spoke up amusingly, "Let me guess, another pair of the 'buy two, get one free' instead of the specific one you wrote down with the SKU number and store address?"
"Yeah, it can now join my radio/shower mirror that zaps you whenever you change the station" she answered dryly to her strange bundle of belongings her boyfriend bought for her and let out a long disappointed sigh as she sunk into her seat. The cold circulated air caused her to shiver for a moment, prompting her to close her jacket with the buttons, before stating aloud, "If only they made a microchip for men where they would automatically be given that knowledge and it can zap them whenever they screw up."
"Hey, you can't undermine all our work to be lazy. . .we worked hard on it!" Mike piped up from the row in front of the women after overhearing their conversation and his stylish blond head poked out to peer down at them. With a determined tone, he pointed out, "We aimed to be lazy and women fought to be supreme overlords-"
"Wait a-" both women objected to the 'overlord' remark but he cut them off instantly.
"In the end, we both got our goals" he finished with a proud smile that reminded Samantha of his on-screen personality grins and he thumped his chest with manly pride. After his little ego stroke, he jabbed a warning finger at them and warned quickly, "So no backsies."
Nattie simply hurled her earphones at his head for a direct hit and Mike disappeared back behind the navy airplane seat once again as quickly as he'd popped in. The blond woman rubbed her hands together in triumph for defending the female race and relaxed in her seat, snuggling into a warm blanket the stewardess had given her while Samantha returned to her workload again.
In the row ahead, Matthew was in heavy concentration as his fingers nimbly laid a wall on the third story of his tower of cards and he wiped away a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. This was taking all of his focus and he grabbed the next card, the queen of hearts, but before he could place it onto his tower. . .a set of flung earphones from Mike's hands crashed into his creation like a burning meteor striking the Leaning Tower of Pisa into pieces.
Matthew gaped in silent horror to his ruined masterpiece, his fingertips twitching in frozen stupor as the red card fell between his digits, and finally let his head slump in defeat. His poor tower never stood a chance against the flung projectile. Ted, who sat next to him while thoroughly enjoying his munching on a bag of roasted peanuts, patted him on the back before declaring with personal amusement, "Ah well!"
The dark-haired man sulked as his brown eyes stared wistfully at his destroyed tower, what it could've been, and grumbled pitifully, "It's not fair."
"Life is never fair, it's very fickle" the blond replied matter-of-factly with a self-assured nod as Matthew's eyebrows raised to the enlightening comment. DiBiase was known as the laidback and joker of the team, not the philosophical thinker. Ted broke his moment of reflection a second later as he informed with a witty grin, "Now, excuse me as I try to score a point with a peanut in Randy's mouth."
Matthew let him be since Orton's blanket covered lap was already full of peanuts that missed their mark. He wanted to have nothing to do with Ted's pranks when the man finally awoke to the realization he'd been a basketball hoop for peanuts or finally choked on one. With no new ideas in his mind that could aid in occupying his time, Matthew decided to fiddle with the radio stations the airline supplied.
However, he couldn't hold back his laughter when Mike's voice echoed through the cabin behind him, "Here's your weird pillow, DiBiase."
"It's not weird, it's memory foam!" Ted protested defensively as he halted his peanut hurling to glance behind his seat as the other wrestler fiddled with the belongings in the overhead compartment. Mike had been trying to nab his cozy snuggie from his carry-on bag, since airplane blankets were practically child size for him, when his colleague's item had obstructed his path which led to a one-sided fight with the pillow.
Mike simply rolled his eyes before chucking the blue foam pillow at his head, which then immediately bounced off Ted's head and into the middle of the aisle next to him. The blond reached out for his foam pillow with his long fingers and shot the other man a quick glare before retrieving it into his hands, shoving it behind his head to keep him comfortable. Comfort was a luxury he always made sure to afford. As the notorious joker of the group, he added in a last minute jab to defend his honor, "Besides, I wouldn't be talking if I were you, Maggie Simpson."
Matthew, John, TJ, Stephen, and David laughed aloud at the comparison because Mike's snuggie did in fact fit the color scheme and shape of the cartoon character's outfit. Mike decided to give up the lost fight before he got in way over his head and being a passive fellow, sat down with his blanket/robe to put it on and doze into calming slumber land.
Nattie chuckled from her spot as she heard the ruckus up ahead as Mike's seat before her shifted and shook her head at what the men were joking about now. If they weren't causing each other mayhem, they turned to joking. She turned to give Samantha a weary eye to all of the busy typing and decided that she'd end it for both the woman's benefit and her own carefully crafted plan. It would not go awry as Mickie's previous plans had and Nattie would reign supreme as the mastermind. Her manicured fingernails tapped against the left armrest as she feigned a sigh and ordered gently, "Take a breather, Sam. I'll be here in case anything comes up."
"But I have to-" she started to refute the idea of slacking off and pointed to her bundle of paperwork on the tray table. It was best to get it out of the way during the long plane ride in order enjoy her first trip overseas without the stress.
"Sleep" Nattie commanded with a friendly smile, innocently insistent to get her plan underway and knew the assistant needed to catch a snooze anyway. There was never a day that went by that she didn't see Samantha scrambling back and forth at a hotel or event with hasty pitter-patters in her steps.
The sound of the word 'sleep' sounded glorious to Samantha since Mickie's plan had her out past midnight sipping alcohol while attempting to swing dance with Hennigan and she'd only grabbed two hours of sleep before heading out to the airport. Even now, her poor eyeballs seemed devoid of moisture as her sluggish brain tried to keep them open. The blinking icon on her word document practically repelled her from working and she sighed with weary defeat to the mocking blink, turning her computer into hibernation mode before shutting it close. She carefully placed it into her laptop case and blinked her dry itchy eyes in relief as the sound of faint plane turbines and the chatter of passengers filled her ears.
"One hour" she stated firmly to her friend because oversleeping would push her schedule back (a luxury she couldn't afford) and rested her head on her arms in the old elementary school nap mode. Sleeping back on airplane chairs always gave her painful cricks in the neck and the recliner never worked for her. If at all, she ended up getting kicked from behind from the next passenger. Within five minutes, she was knocked out into dreamland and Nattie slyly smiled to herself in success to phase one. Number two wouldn't be far behind and with a coy hum, she grabbed her leather purse to stand up and walked off to initiate the next part.
When Samantha came to, she had drool trailing down the side of her mouth as she slept on the tray table and an ache in her neck formed from the uncomfortable position. Her lips mumbled inaudible gibberish from her drowsy state as her mind focused in on where she was. How long had she been sleeping anyway? The sound of the turbines still rang in her ears so she guessed they were a while from their destination since noise lacked in the cabin and she opened her slate gray eyes to a blurry hue of porcelain and scarlet.
Wait. . .what happened to beige and blond? Scarlet was way off chart.
"Ahh!"
Samantha's sudden exclamation of surprise caused Stephen to drop his cup of soda onto his lap and Nattie smiled like an imp from up ahead in her new seat next to TJ. Switching seats had been easy as pie but she didn't expect the woman to shriek in surprise. Poor Samantha needed to be less socially awkward in strange situations but Nattie would let this all play out. Hopefully, the end result would be positive and not catastrophically negative.
"I hope she isn't having a heart attack back there" her boyfriend spoke up as he tried to snooze but the sharp shriek had disrupted it. He really hoped the women wouldn't traumatize the meek woman into a panic attack by the end of the month and inadvertently cause Stephen to be beaten to death or lose all his pairs of pants to wet spots.
"She'll be fine, babe" Nattie assured with a long drawl filled with emphasis to her own confidence and relaxed in her seat to see if her own plan went as scheduled.
Samantha could only stare in horror as she once again caused a mishap on the same redhead while Stephen let a small sigh pass through his lips at the new stain on his pants. He gave her a sidelong glance as he placed the half-empty cup on his tray table and spoke up with light amusement, "Yah know, Ah think yah should be less jumpy. Ah might end up with new laundry too soon."
"I'm so sorry, Stephen, you just. . .scared me" she sighed weakly in reason to this new twist of what she called her disastrous romance appeal and frowned at the dark stain forming on his denim jeans. Way to go, Sam. Make people onboard think he wet himself. Stuffing wrinkled itinerary papers into her purse, she adjusted the tray table to its original position, and clicked on the button overhead for a stewardess.
"Aye, Ah 'ave a tendency to do that" he chuckled sheepishly to ease her apprehensive demeanor and watched her stand up unsteadily with the light sway of the plane. She tried to pass over his legs without brushing against them but it only caused her to lose her balance and down she fell onto the aisle. His blue eyes widened to her abrupt fall and he quickly called out in alarm, "Samantha!"
She slapped her hand against the blue carpeting with embarrassed fury at how crappy her plane ride was going and noticed a pair of feet stop by her side. Her gray eyes traced up the shapely legs and her lips curled upwards in a nervous smile at the boggled flight attendant to sweetly request, "Hi, I'm gonna need some paper towels and an Advil, please."
The feminine feet disappeared towards the front of the plane and she sighed at her clumsiness. Even the Earth's troposphere was against her. Ted didn't make it better when he leaned over in his seat from her side of the aisle and teased with an impish grin brightening his blue eyes, "No cluttering the aisle, Sam."
Stephen decided to do his gentlemanly duty and picked up the fallen woman by the arms to bring her to her knees effortlessly with his strength. He couldn't help but feel sympathy to her frenzied state and heard her mumble inaudibly under her breath as she leaned against the side of his seat. The movement of the plane dizzied her easily and Stephen pointed to the side of her mouth to politely inform with a small smile, "Samantha, yah have a little somethin' on yer mouth."
She groaned miserably in self-pity at being seen in that sleep deprived state by him of all people and furiously rubbed at the side of her mouth to wipe whatever spit remained. Yeah, a man like him would definitely find this appealing. Her day was getting worse by every time zone she passed and Samantha met the man's gaze to speak softly, "Thank you for telling me, Stephen."
Unfortunately, dry spit wasn't easy to rub off and Stephen stifled a chuckle (he didn't want to embarrass her further) as he cleared his throat uncomfortably and pointed to his own left cheek to hint gently, "Er, Sam?"
"Oh, c'mon!" she groaned glumly and grabbed his leftover drink off the armrest as she stood up on shaky legs to save what was left of her dignity. Dipping her fingers into it, she used it as alternative water to rub it over her cheek and drank the rest down despite his lips had been on it minutes ago to smack her lips, "Tis goin' down grand!"
Stephen could only blink his blue eyes at the woman's accented comment and tilted his head to the right, asking with both intrigue and confusion, "Where did yah learn that, Sam?"
She gave him back the glass with a polite thank you before collapsing into her seat to sigh away her newfound stress. Stephen simply placed the empty cup back on the tray and Samantha piped up her perky response, "Ted does a lot of bar imitations when drunk, you learn a few things. I bet he could tie the world record for most bars visited worldwide."
Giving him a sheepish smile, she suggested shyly to ward off any unintended sarcasm towards his accent, "You can mimic a Spanish accent too, well, Costa Rican style anyway. Just use a strong 'r' sound."
"Ah think Ile pass, Samantha" he declined to her soft-spoken offer since understanding American accents was enough trouble for him when he first arrived in the States. New York pretty much left him scratching his head with complete bafflement whenever he traveled there and tried to keep up with each individual way citizens spoke from coast to coast. His hand shifted the wet fabric of his pants and he excused himself with a polite smile, "Now, if yah don't mind, Ah have to change into new pants."
"Oh, I didn't mean to keep you-" she apologized quickly because she'd never want to waste anybody's time with random conversation but he stopped her with a raise of his hand.
"Breathe, Sam, an' relax" he advised gently with a friendly squeeze to her right shoulder which calmed her somewhat (while also giving a girlish flutter of her little heart) and grabbed his carry on bag to leave Samantha with an embarrassed blush.
Oh, he'll never get near me again with my clumsiness, not even with a ten foot pole, she thought dejectedly as her shoulders slumped to the logical assumption. Her fingers smoothed out the slight wrinkles in her blouse and she frowned, I probably look a mess too.
The flight attendant came by to drop off the items she'd requested and Samantha smiled politely since she'd practically forgotten about it with all her frantic worry. Grabbing them into her hands, she gave a nod and asked curiously to a matter that picked at her mind, "Thank you. By the way, is there any chance you carry Toblerone's?"
"Sky Mall magazine" was the woman's pleasant reply and she smiled in triumph that they were in stock. She might have missed her chance back at the airport but here, the delicious chocolate had no escape.
"Cena money comes in handy" Samantha giggled evilly to her quick made cash of the day as she looked to the pocket of the chair in front of her to fish out said magazine. Flipping it open with a zesty grin, she began to peruse each page for interesting buys.
Stephen found her scribbling in the magazine when he returned with a new pair of black pants this time and hoped he wouldn't have to have another change mid-trip. It's not like he could blame the poor lass, she was simply modest and easily startled. The fast scribbling caught his ears once more and after stretching his spine, he sat down in his seat comfortably to ask with a friendly smile, "What're yah doing there, Sam?"
A wide smile lit up her oval face as the lethargy from before dissipated and she answered giddily, "Toblerone."
He gave her a puzzled glance along with a silent blink before asking hesitantly, "The. . .the chocolate?"
"Mm-hmm, blond John bought me one during my first work week when I told him I'd never tried one and I've been addicted since" she answered enthusiastically as she bookmarked the magazine page when it came time to buy (and buy, she would) and yawned from all of the hassle at the airport. Grabbing the pillow she'd stuffed into the corner of her seat, she glimpsed at Stephen and requested quickly, "Poke me when the attendants pass by. I think I'll sleep to some Enya-"
"What?" he asked in disbelief to her choice in music as she fiddled through her purse to find her media player. His blurt halted her search for the stubborn iPod and she couldn't help but smile at his perplexed face.
She gave him an amused expression before stating slyly with a grin, "What? You think just because I'm Hispanic, I'm expected to listen to Spanish music? Mr. Farrelly, you must know that Ireland has good vocalists in Celtic genre."
Samantha laughed as his pale cheeks tinted red against his porcelain skin and covered her mouth with a hand before she caused him to redden into a cherry. Life was full of misconceptions and she admitted easily, "Please, I listen to classical and vocal music more than anything, regardless of language. I tried bringing my brothers onboard. . .it didn't go over so well. My dad's into Peruvian and Caribbean rhythms this year so I'm sure he's driving them nuts. But seriously, haven't you heard Enya? The woman is phenomenal. Then you have Loreena McKennitt from Canada and Sarah McLachlan and. . ."
A large smile broke over his lips as he watched her count off every vocalist with her fingers but she soon ran out of them and shrugged her shoulders as she let the rest go for the moment. He'd assumed her meek demeanor would've had her siding with pop culture but he was obviously wrong and wondered what else her shy nature was hiding.
"Seems Ah need ta know more about yah then, Samantha" he chuckled to her honest ramblings and she fought her own blush this time when she caught his smile. It was practically infectious to her and she supplied her own as she purposely averted her gaze to finally grab her player. Otherwise, she was certain she'd make a verbal fluke and wanted to avoid ruining their conversation. Plain curiosity laced his voice when he asked aloud, "How many brothers do yah have?"
"Three" she admitted sullenly to her rambunctious siblings and hoped they weren't causing her parents grief with their antics. The first time she'd brought Mickie to meet them, the day she'd left Los Angeles, had her twin brothers kneeling loyally at her feet and declaring her their goddess for all time. That was enough to tell her to never bring any superstars by until the teenage boys got their act together. . .although she highly doubted that. She tapped her fingers against the armrest separating their seats and sulked with a pout, "You'd think my mom would've tried to give me a sister but dad says nobody can steal my spotlight as the girl of the family. Do you have any siblings?"
"Just a sister" he answered with the same glum expression reminiscent on her face and she gaped at the horrible irony before slumping into her seat.
"Lucky you" she commented wistfully, slightly envious that he had the gender of a sibling she'd wanted during youth. Life was indeed a strange tale of mysteries.
Stephen laughed to her frown since he never found having a sister interesting and combed his fingers through his spiky hair as he admitted amusingly, "Lucky? Not when Ah had to play tea parties an' dollies with Anne an' her friends. That an' she fancied using my mum's lipstick on me. Ah woke up on Christmas Day once wearing red lips an' blue eyeshadow. My mum still has that picture in our family albums."
"Every child around the world has one embarrassing picture mothers find cute, join the club" she joked lightheartedly to the similarities in life experiences despite being an ocean apart and he nodded in agreement to her statement. Samantha leaned into her seat as breakfast began to pass around the cabin by the flight attendants. She didn't care what people said about airline food, she was sleep deprived and starving; she didn't mind one bit how it tasted.
Stephen had barely passed the dish to her side when her eager fingers yanked it away to place it onto her table tray. He simply shook his head in amusement to her hunger and began to eat his meal quietly. Samantha's lips widened into a large grin at the hot food that pleased her sense of smell with its aroma and rubbed her hands together in eagerness to wolf it down. John whistled over to Samantha from his spot on the second row across from her with a grin of enticing compromise, "Trade my cheese packet for your fruit cup?"
She smiled at his boyish grin and instantly agreed, tossing the plastic fruit cup over to him with a smile to inform, "I think you're in luck, saw a couple of cherries in it this time."
Her left hand beckoned towards her end of the deal and she impishly piped up, "Now make with the cheese, Johnny boy."
Stephen stared awkwardly at both of them as the blond threw his offering in return and he leaned back before it struck him on the head but Samantha caught it perfectly with a peppy grin. She gave John a friendly wave of goodbye and smiled at Stephen to answer his unanswered but facially obvious question, "He likes his fruit and I like the little packaged cheeses during flight. It's a win-win for us."
"Yer all right, Sam" the redhead chuckled to the upbeat attitude of the woman and Samantha tried to destroy the warm fluttering in her stomach, silently replying with a pleased smile.
"Did you use your spork?" she asked curiously as her gray eyes peeked at his meal and he tilted his head to the bizarre question. Curiosity killed the cat but her quirkiness was intriguing him by the minute. Her index finger pointed towards the utensil and she explained matter-of-factly, "You can never have enough sporks for travel and they're handy at home, especially for noodle soups and nutty salads."
Her eyebrows furrowed as she piped up with contemplating wonder, "They never have them in markets nowadays. I bet it's a business conspiracy to keep the fork and spoon people in business."
Stephen couldn't help but laugh boisterously at her strange logic and handed her his unused plastic spork as a gift before grabbing his fork to resume eating his meal. He'd expected to have a lack of conversation with her when Nattie asked to exchange seats since she rarely sought him for friendly chatter. If at all, she seemed to avoid him but maybe it was just him. Now, the trip would be a little less tedious with her as a seat partner since she could apparently hold her own in conversation.
Her finger pointed to the plastic utensil he held and she lowered her voice to a hush to point out secretly, "See? The fork business got you."
His laugh grew in volume to her secretive tone and he decided to stop her amusing chatter before he choked on his food. Tapping her tray with his left hand, he ordered gently with a stifled laugh, "Eat yer meal, Sam."
"We have arrived!"
Randy shot a glare to a jet lagged Ted, who posed dramatically with his arms spread over his head, and hit his shoulder with the end of his duffle bag to knock him off balance with a smirk. Sighing aloud as to why he had to share a cab with him to get to the hotel, he pointed out rigidly, "Do you really have to say that in every building we enter?"
. . . "Yes, yes, I must."
Samantha stepped forward to leave the two in their bickering and walked up to the check-in counter of the hotel they would stay at for two nights. The trip had made her groggy, jumpy, and tired which caused her to slump over the counter to yawn out slowly, "Registrazione per Samantha Mora, Nattie Neidhart, Matthew Korklan, John Cena, Stephen Farrelly, Mike Mizanin. . ."
The woman's energy ran out and she dozed off in the middle of her sentence, switching from her learned Italian to her normal English, prompting Mike to step in and support the sleeping woman under his arm. He was mildly annoyed since he and practically everybody in their group told her to sleep rather than be a workaholic during the flight but alas, no. Instead, she'd stayed up chatting with Stephen until the two split their sides from laughing and caused Randy to wake which led to him throwing all of Ted's flung peanuts at them. He pointed to the other wrestlers behind him and informed aloud, "They'll finish the rest."
Ted managed to rip himself away from one argument with Randy to make another with Mike, "Hey, that's not fair! I'm not fluent in Italian!"
"Instead of throwing peanuts, you should've invested time in learning something" Randy pointed out sardonically with a haughty smirk and proceeded to check-in himself with his own broken Italian that he'd learned via his iPod's Podcast. Those things were conversation savers during international travel and he got to improve his intellect. Ted groaned aloud in misery, shaking his fists in annoyance and grabbed his bags to follow along while Mike pulled- more like dragged- the dozing woman away to her hotel room.
Samantha's body twitched before mumbling in her sleep, "Huh, yes, I'll take that coffee cake."
Mike simply shook his head as he muffled a soft chuckle to her incoherent murmurs and carried her onwards as if she was just another piece of luggage. He'd make sure she listened next time when it came to catching decent sleep instead of lollygagging with the others. If she couldn't take care of herself, he'd be there to scold some sense into her along with Cena. Hennigan usually let her slide on anything and have fun but not him.
"Make sure you place a chair against the outside knob so she doesn't escape!" John called out with advice since Samantha never stayed put in one spot and Mike nodded, giving him a two-finger farewell over his head in acknowledgment.
"Gotcha!"
Hours later, the small group had gathered in a nearby cozy restaurant to eat after sleeping off the jet-lag. . .well, everyone except Matthew, who was now wandering Rome on his own to explore with only a small English-Italian phrases book and pocket cash. The group had yet to hear from him and they hoped he hadn't ended up outside of Rome itself. That would mortify poor Samantha and she'd have to file a missing person's report while announcing it to the company. Not an easy task.
Ted flipped through the menu with a frustrated frown while Randy and John tried to ignore his incoherent mumbles that only grew louder in volume until he complained aloud, "I can't read this gibberish."
"Dude, it's a language known by over 100 million people" John stated matter-of-factly with a flat stare that caused the group to laugh and shook his head before reading down the beverage list.
Beer's always nice, he thought contently and kept reading onwards.
"That, and the English version is on the opposite side" Randy muttered with a nonchalant tone to strike the man's ego and it caused Ted to balk at missing the whole thing entirely.
Maybe I should get my eyes checked, he pondered for a moment because the last thing he needed was faulty vision in his job. He quickly flipped it over to check if Randy was indeed correct and sighed aloud in relief when he recognized the familiar letters, hugging the menu to his chest as he declared, "Sweet glory, it's English."
"Easy for yah to say, lad, some of us had to learn more than one language" Stephen stated aloud offhandedly as he tried to memorize some of the Italian dishes for easier translating during travel. He wanted to experience everything he could out of each city he visited, it was a privilege to travel so much in the first place and he would make the most out of it.
"Thank you!" Samantha piped up cheerfully while buttering a piece of bread to nibble on before ordering. Mike shot her a wry glance from his spot next to her at the table and she swallowed her bite with a rebellious face before declaring, "What? It's free bread, the bakers worked hard on it and I won't disappoint them. Plus, that flight gave me the munchies."
Nattie chuckled to herself since Samantha tended to save everything in sight whether organic or inorganic and reminded her friend playfully, "Remember, no liquids in your back pockets."
The dark-haired woman blushed in embarrassment to a past incident inside a cafe before jabbing a finger at Ted to remark with accusation, "He's the one who slammed the door on my butt and broke the maple syrup containers."
The blond man smiled cheekily before laughing aloud to that day, "Oh yeah, it looked like you peed yourself."
"Thank you, Theodore" Samantha shot back for the horrible embarrassment (hearing it just didn't make it easier) and knew he didn't like being called by his entire name. She innocently dodged a glare sent her way by pulling out her cell phone to log online to a currency converter website to make sure she wouldn't overspend but the euro was the euro, what could you say?
My dollar barely makes one euro, she thought miserably to her saved spending money but shrugged it off. That's the way the economy works.
TJ grinned enthusiastically as he placed down his menu and broke the moment of silence to announce, "I'm having spaghetti-"
"Spaghetti? Spaghetti? You're in Italy, the heart of true Italian cuisine and you're getting spaghetti?" Natti grilled incredulously to his choice in food while her boyfriend tried to slide by with an innocent grin that did nothing to faze the fire in her eyes.
"I talked David into it" he added in to cement his choice against her wrath and the other man quickly shook his head to distance himself away from the volatile conversation. David wasn't about to become the mangled innocent bystander for a plate of spaghetti. No, sir!
"I'm just a man that's hungry, I'm not looking for any trouble" he stated anxiously to his cousin with a higher nervous hitch in his voice and used the menu to cover his face from sight. Nattie dismissed her relative's attempt to hide behind paper and David sighed in relief that he'd been spared.
"You're going to order a dish you never heard of and love it" she ordered with a nonnegotiable tone and shook her finger at TJ for emphasis that her request wouldn't be denied. That is, if he wanted to sleep in a warm bed tonight and not the lobby's lumpy cold couch.
TJ conceded his choice of food and closed his eyes, trailing his finger down the list blindly to pick an item until he stopped on a random name. Tilting his head to the right, he asked aloud for clarification, "What's 'lista di vino'?"
"The wine list" Samantha replied with an amused smile to his blind pick and some of the others sniggered at the choice. She let him make his own decision since she didn't want to endure Nattie's wrath if she translated a garden salad and fiddled with a pale pink flower to occupy her time.
"Maybe you should order off the English side" John suggested simply before the man ordered something he didn't know and it horribly backfired on him.
Of course, TJ being TJ, he wanted to impress his girlfriend and returned to his blind pick until he declared proudly to the unknown choice, "Casu marzu! Something, something, something- imported from Sardinia."
Everybody eyed each other warily to whatever he ordered and watched him summon the waiter with a frantic hand wave that had Nattie hiding her face in similar fashion to David. Eventually, each of them ordered their respective dishes and waited for the orders patiently. . .well, except for Ted, who used his utensils to create music until Randy snatched them away to ward off a headache.
Samantha placed the flower she'd fiddled with into the breast pocket of Mike's cobalt blue dress shirt and smiled proudly at shortening the stem into a boutonnière. To most people, they would've given the impression of a couple but she only saw him as an older brother that watched after her since she tended to overlook anything that wasn't business related. Nattie chuckled to her creation and briefly wondered if her friend would freak if she sent one to Stephen via a waiter.
No, it'll probably embarrass her in public, she thought carefully and began to craft yet another plan since her airplane seat idea ended with the two laughing instead of smooching. Then again, progress was progress.
Mike's shoulders slumped to the friendly gift since she was always kind towards him (unless he did something stupid) and he sighed with defeat to groan out, "Okay, you can have your free bread."
One by one, each member of the group received their orders as the warm food steamed with delectable aromas of herbs and marinades. . .until TJ's dish was served. Samantha's, Nattie's, David's, John's, Randy's, Stephen's, Mike's, and especially Ted's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as they stared down at the man's special dish.
Stephen's face became even more paler, if possible, as he spoke slowly in shocked disbelief, "Ó mo-"
"That is unholy!" Ted declared with what ran through everyone's minds but John threw a leftover cloth napkin at his face to quiet him. Everyone in the restaurant turned towards the loud blond sitting in the corner while John hoped he hadn't blown their inconspicuousness in the city. He didn't want to experience the airport incident all over again inside a restaurant since security was nonexistent there.
"Indoor voice, man" John reminded firmly to not cause any more scenes while TJ sunk in his seat at his botched meal. Everybody had dishes that pleased their visual palate but TJ's was neither in any of the senses known to man.
Nattie decided to read what he'd ordered on the English side and used her phone to Google the dish, blanching slightly at the results as she read aloud, "A Sardinian dish of sheep milk cheese, notable for being riddled with live insect larvae, fermenting it clear of fat until left extremely soft-"
"And full of live larvae!" Ted interrupted loudly and finished the explanation as he saw the little white larvae wriggling within the round cheese on TJ's plate. Randy decided this was the time to use the complimentary bread roll and stuffed it into Ted's open mouth in the hopes of silencing him for a few minutes. Otherwise, he might have to make a dash for the bathroom and empty his stomach.
After the horror of staring down at the whitish yellow cheese, David snickered to his stunned friend and prodded him on the side to preen teasingly, "Eat up, buddy."
TJ turned two shades whiter at the idea of eating that and Nattie scolded her cousin sharply with a heated glare, "David, he's not going to eat that!"
"It's a delicacy" he insisted with a huge grin at the amusing turn of events but highly doubted TJ would actually eat it. Frankly, he was still trying to get over the sight itself and mentally shuddered. Why didn't his friend just order like a normal person?. . .Right, he kept trying to impress his cousin.
Ted finally pried the bread roll out of his mouth, slamming it down on the table, and declared instantly with a wild grin brightening his features, "Fifty bucks says you do."
"I'll add in a twenty" Randy added in to see where this would lead and crossed his arms over his broad chest with curiosity. Most of the time he disagreed with Ted's craziness but there were rare opportunities when he would. This seemed to be one of them.
"Same here. . .well, until I find an ATM!" Mike betted, breaking away from his usually calm stance, but Samantha smacked his bicep for trying to get in on the action that would probably result with the poor wrestler hospitalized with indigestion. She could see this kind of thing coming from Ted, John H., Adam, and maybe Matthew but not Mike. . .well, unless he was pulled along unwillingly.
TJ began to ponder the crazy suggestion since it was almost one hundred dollars in cash but Nattie snapped her fingers in front of his face to snap him out of it and snapped assertively, "No!"
"If at all, the money will go to his hospital bill for pumping his stomach" John pointed out logically to the most likely result and began to eat his food before it became cold. To help his appetite, he refused to look at the cheese and smiled at his fork that had pierced fettuccini pasta onto it and smacked his lips, "Mmm, that's damn good pasta."
Samantha, who was happily nibbling away at some tortellini, piped up helpfully with a smile, "Maybe if you take out the maggots, it'll be good. We can never be too ethnocentric and cheese is always coagulated with bacter. . ."
Her words died away when everyone stared at her awkwardly and she darted her eyes back down to her meal, her beige cheeks darkening as she mumbled sheepishly, "Never mind."
"Oh. . .my- Ah!" Ted shrieked, a little too feminine in voice, when one of the little maggots jumped onto his face and he instantly flicked it off as if it were acid. Grabbing his cloth, he wiped his left cheek furiously as he growled with dramatic despair but honest disgust, "Augh, it touched me! I've been sullied! Sullied, you hear me?"
Samantha covered the plate with one of the cloth napkins before anybody else was struck by the little maggot projectiles (although secretly, it was funny to see Ted shriek) and Nattie spoke up nervously to address them, "Are we all in agreement that this dish be returned?"
"Yes!"
Mike slapped the back of Samantha's hand as she tried to sneak bread rolls into her purse and reprimanded exasperatedly, "Stop that. You're going to have pests in your room and luggage if you bring it home."
"But they're going to be thrown out anyway, I might as well take them to the vineyard as snacks" she objected with a small pout to her packrat nature and jabbed a finger in Ted's direction, "You didn't say anything about his pepper packets which he uses on everybody when they sleep," she brightened up at that and alerted sweetly, "Stephen, Randy, you might want to check your underwear when you return to make sure there's no fiery pepper in there."
"Sam, you ruined my prank!" Ted protested instantly to her intentional slip of the tongue and threw his pepper packets back onto the table. He'd have no need of them anymore for the prank and crossed his arms like a tantrum child that lost his favorite toy. Samantha simply grinned enthusiastically and reached forward to grab the packets herself for hoarding but Mike yanked her hands away.
"Bad Sam!"
A/N: Turns out that I had to break the chapter into two chapters because it was just too long so next time, you'll see the vineyard adventure. As for TJ's casu marzu, I got the idea off the 'strangest foods of the world' list since the group was in Italy so yeah. The group simply experienced extreme culture shock in food choices, except for Sam, who tried to give it a chance but I incorporated the likely choice since they're not from around the area. Thanks to each of you who put the story on alert and for your reviews, I appreciate your feedback:
LMDxCenaxOrtonxCullen: True, with the way crowds cheer at him in every show, an airport mauling isn't far. And yes, that Irishman sure needs his share of lovin'. lol.
WWE Superstar Fanatic: Unfortunately, the polite Sam is of Costa Rican descent. I rarely read any OC characters with international backgrounds (I love learning and writing about other cultures) and since Sheamus is Irish, why not? Plus, their whole trip around the world will have them learning new things. . .well, except maybe Ted who's more likely to blow up something.
Blood's Thicker Than Bullets: Thanks for loving the story!
Lynnie Vicious: I'm glad you loved the last line. I kept fiddling with whether to have Randy say 'Raw will be right back' or 'Randy Orton sponsors this'. I hoped I didn't take out the last air in your lungs with this chapter but the hilarity will ensue.
AnaMariePage: Thanks for the nice comment and I'm glad my writing skill pleases your eyes. Yes, this story will be full of comedy since I don't want the story centered on the OC only while the Stephen/Sam fluff comes in later chapters.
Alice: There's no way I'll ever make good Sam into a Mary Sue so thanks for loving the way my story's constructed. Sorry for the late update but I try to make my chapter's long (I hate short chapters). lol.
Mandamirra10: Yes, I'm glad you love each of the characters and I'll vary them in each chapter. I love Edge so I'll be using him in the next chapter for hilarity purposes. Sam's pretty down to Earth but she can be kooky in her own way since I can't have a one-dimensional character with the appealing traits of a rock.
And a small taste of Chapter 5's 'Mike, The Wandering Hero':
"Trust me, I know what I'm doing" Mike insisted as he glanced at each of them and shook his shoulders to start off his search for aid. After this, he could add 'hero rescues lost professional wrestlers' to his resume. Yes, that sounded quite nice.
Samantha scurried over and grasped his left arm to fuss worriedly, "What if a mountain lion attacks you? Or a snake bites you? Or you break your ankle? Or heatstroke happens-"
"Thank you!" Adam exclaimed in agreement for the nay vote but Mike wasn't hearing any of it. Samantha knew she sounded like her dear ol' mom but this time, the statistics were stacked against him. Adam tried to find a signal one last time with his phone but got squat which led to him stuffing it into his pocket. More irritation might have him chucking it over the vineyard.
With a goodbye wave of hand, Mike set out towards the left in whatever direction it was located on Earth. Samantha wringed her fingers together but wound up scrunching up the back of Stephen's shirt accidentally, releasing it until he cleared his throat politely and she scurried off to stand next to Nattie. Ted ran forward to call out desperately to his departing colleague, "If you find help, order me a burger with fries!. . .And a bucket of fried chicken- medium spicy!"
"I'm not a drive-in box, asshole!" Mike yelled back from across the field and Ted shook a fist at the fading speck that was known as The Miz. Samantha hoped she wouldn't have to file a missing person report on her friend but most importantly, that he didn't get mauled to death in the wild.
The blond man crossed his arms to snort at the air, using it as a defensive shield to hide his worry over his friend as well, and whistled aloud, "Well, he's a goner."