Randy Orton stood with his arms folded and a bored look on his face. After missing weeks and weeks of pre match meetings, Vince McMahon had finally put his foot down and said something to him, hinting at some more bullshit disciplinary action if Randy didn't start fulfilling his responsbilities. Creative put the matches together but it was largely left up to the talent to come up with spots and different moves to work with each other. It was a ritual that typically took place in those early hours before the live broadcasts. Randy rarely showed up and it had begun to cause problems with the other guys unsure of how to work the match with him when it was live. According to the latest storyline, the leader of the Nexus, Wade Barrett had forced John Cena into facing Randy Orton. Though tight in real life, their onscreen relationship had been tense, one more of mutual respect than friendship. Any time the company's top two Superstars were being pitted against each other in a mtachup, it was sure to get the fans excited and more importantly boost ticket sales.
A few of the referees and other backstage officials along with some of the other wrestlers milled about at ringside. Inside the ring, John was developing their match from beginning to end, running various spots by Randy. Orton was unimpressed and seeminly unintersted. A rebel in every sense of the word, he was annoyed that Vince's threats had even been enough to make him show up for the ridiculous meeting in the first place. It was the last place he wanted to be. He'd had a late night partying just a few hours before and more than anything, he wanted to pass out on his bus and catch up on a few z's before showtime.
"So then, I'm gonna go for the AA and you counter and…Randy."
"What?" Randy looked irritated.
John rolled his eyes.
"Are you even listening to me?"
Randy shrugged.
"Not really."
"Great. So I've just spent the last half hour carefully planning the first four minutes of an eight minute match and you haven't heard a word I said?"
"Basically."
"Great man. Really. That's just great."
Randy smirked.
"You are such a little girl sometimes. Relax. We've been at this a long time, man. We know what we're doing in that ring. I know you like the back of my hand and vice versa. We don't need to stand here like we're green and put together a spot by spot match. We can just improv it and make it look good. Any fucks up, we can cover it, no sweat."
John Cena let out a sigh. Randy had a point but that was irrelevant.
"I don't get you, dude. Why can't you just do what you're supposed to do? Why is everything an argument?"
"Whatever. Just finish up what the hell you're trying to do so I can go. Honestly bro, you're just wasting my time and I have better things to do."
What was the use in arguing? Ignoring his friend's attitude, John continued with what he was saying. John was a thinker, a planner, a meticulous perfectionist obessed with every aspect of his matches. Randy was more of a feeler. He functioned on instinct and natural talent alone. His raw ability was his saving grace. He didn't have to work as hard as some of the other guys, a fact which only fueled his egotism. So instead of actively participating, he leaned against the ropes tuning out the words of his friend. He was actually pretending to be somewhere else, not even paying attention to his suuroundings. He didn't even notice the pair of eyes watching him from the Gorilla. He did not notice when the owner of those eyes marched right down that ramp headed directly for him. She climbed between the ropes and stared dead at him, grabbing his arm roughly when he did not look at her.
"I want to talk to you."
Her eyes were steely and her voice angry. She was looking him dead in the eye with not an ounce of fear.
"What the hell do you want?"
"You know what I want."
"Actually I don't and I certainly don't have time to stand here and listen to you babble and have a meltdown so if you don't mind, just get to what this is all about."
"Like you don't know."
Randy pretended to think for a minute.
"The fact that you're a loser who never deserved to get hired in this company in the first place? The fact that you have a big mouth and you're on my last nerve? Okay, maybe that's not it. Let's see what else I got. Maybe it's that time of the month…"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Memphis angrily shook her head. "You know, I used to just think you're a world class jerk but now I'm starting to think it's deeper than that."
"Your compliments amuse me."
"I'm undecided if you're crazy or just plain evil because it has to be one of the two. Yeah maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Things happen but you seriously overreacted on that one and we both know it's true. Ever since, you've treated me like dirt and made my life here in this company a living hell. And for what? I've done nothing to you."
All eyes were on them. The few people who had been near the ring were starting to stare and now curious spectators were coming out of the woodwork. Randy was seething. He literally could not stand this woman and this was exactly why. Stepping closer to her, he sneered.
"You know what you've done."
Memphis was unphased by his anger. In fact, she had expected it.
"You mean stand up to you? Look you in the eye? Treat you like an equal and not some god you've made yourself out to be? Not fear you? Not take your shit?"
Randy's face broke out into a grin.
"Not take my shit, huh?"
The meaning was not lost on either of them.
"The pranks are getting old and ridiculous. They're not funny, well maybe to you. Only a very sad and very disturbed human being would get off on intentionally trying to humilate another person, on destroying someone else's personal property or espcially putting dog crap in their bag. I'm not stupid. I know you're the one behind everythng. Randy, I knew you were the mastermind all along. So far you have broken into my locker, taken my rental car, ruined my clothes, tried to make me look like an ass on national television by getting your stupid little spineless buddies to switch up the matches. You've done a lot. You have pissed me off and disgusted me and annoyed me, which I am sure is your intention. I guess congratulations are in order because you've got your wish but let me tell you something, you went too far with that last so called rib."
"You mean that unfortunate little incident involving you and airport security? Geez, Memphis carrying around dog shit in your purse then trying to sneak it on a plane? Getting busted and being late for a show? Landing all over the Internet dirt sheets? Not a good way to start off a career. Doesn't do much for the longevity notion."
"All thanks to you," she muttered.
"I know you like to march around like you're big and bad but an important piece of advice…not too smart to fuck with the TSA. Looks like they were a little bigger and badder."
"You keep harassing me and trying to get to me. I guess that's just your deal. My question is, when is it going to stop?"
"What did I do?" he feigned innocence.
Memphis laughed in spite of the situation.
"You know damned well what you did. You know, Randy, you're great at orchestrating these little devious plots and plans behind my back but now let's see what you've got when we're standing face to face. Don't deny it. You did it so you should own up to it because I'm sure you're quite proud of yourself. Let's just call a spade a spade."
Randy felt his blood starting to boil. This woman did seem to have that kind of affect on him.
"Who the hell do you think you are? Where do you get off talking to me like that? You think you're a hot shot because you're the first female referee? You think you're all that because the fans are popping for you now. Get out of here. You just don't get it, do you? And your stupid ass probably never will. You're nothing. You're just another pair of no talent, mediocre tits and ass. When Vince runs out of gimmicks for you, you'll be gone. You're just another dumb broad, one of many in this company, nothing more. So next time you want to get in my face and be all uppity, you just remember that."
"You have to be the most insecure person I have ever met in my life, you know that?"
Randy was taken aback.
"What did you just say?"
"You heard me. For whatever reason, I threaten you and you and your over inflated ego just can't handle that. So you do what you always do to cope. You act like an ass, get your stooges to do your dirty work and you bully people. Well, I have news for you. No one likes a bully, Orton and no one likes you. Join the club because they don't like me either but that is only because they don't know me. They know you. And to know you is to know that you're sick and classless and mean and demented. What you think is respect in that locker room is actually fear which is stupid. Look at you, you're nothing to fear. You're just another dumb, uneducated jock with nothing to fall back on except looks and a good family name. You better pray you never get seriously injured here because where else are you gonna go? You couldn't hack it in the Marine Corp and your craziness definietly couldn't hack it in the real world. You think you're a big man? You're the loser. You're pathetic. You should go back home to Daddy and cry and beg him to teach you how to be a real champion, a real man."
There was an audible and collective gasp throughout the arena. No one talked to Randy Orton like that. No one had ever stood up to him like that and it showed. He was incensed, ready to blow a gasket.
"Calm down, man," John quickly intervened, physically inserting his massive frame between the two of them. "Memphis, I know you're upset and you've said your piece. Both of you are a little wound up so it's probably best that everybody just cool off before this gets out of control."
"Get this stupid, fucking cunt bitch away from me," Randy, red faced, demanded through gritted teeth.
Memphis smiled. She had a small measure of retribution. For weeks he had been getting the best of her and now she had finally gotten the best of him. She had touched a nerve, gotten under his skin, embarrassed him for a change.
"Fine. I'll leave but just know this. I know why you're behind this. I know you're doing it all to get me out of here. I know you want me to quit or get fired. It's not going to happen. You know why? Because I am secure in myself and what I came here to do. You won't dictate my life or make me live in fear and I'm sure you have even more treacherous pranks up your sleeve but it doesn't matter. I am not going to cry or quit or give up or give in. I refuse to give you that satisfaction. I am a fighter and a survivor and I have been through too much and worked too damned hard to let some idiot like you ruin this for me. So keep it coming because in the end, I'll still be standing."
With that she looked him in the eye one more time before walking away. A stunned silence lingered behind. Everyone had heard her and those who hadn't would soon hear as the frazzled gossip would for sure make its way around the locker room like wild fire within moments. She was proud of herself. She had wanted nothing more than to yell, curse, and tear Randy Orton limb from limb but that would have made her worse than him. And she refused to sink to his low level. She had hit him where it hurt, got him where it counted. Everybody had heard her and more importantly, so had Randy Orton.