Memphis' heart pounded as she waited by the Gorilla. It was one of the hardest nights of her life. Everyone knew that professional wrestling was kayfabe, sports entertainment, scripted storylines and pre-determined endings. But that was not why people watched it. That is not why Memphis herself became a fan. It was all about the magic that led up to that ending. And on a nightly basis, two guys could be opponents in that ring and beat the hell out of each other from five to 35 minutes, then go grab a steak and a beer together an hour later. That was the beauty of their sport.
And how many pre-production meetings had Memphis been apart of in her career? She would listen intently as to know what spots to look for, how to make sure everything was running smoothly and on time, how to know which wrestler would get over. For some of the greener talent on the roster, the moves and pace was choreographed right down to the very second. For seasoned veterans, there was more room for spontaneity. And in the few short weeks it had been announced that Randy Orton and CM Punk would settle their personal differences in the middle of the squared circle on Wrestlemania night, the match and the real life drama that had fueled it, had quickly taken center stage on the card. Everyone had gathered around backstage to watch it live. Vince had gone to great lengths to keep everything hush hush. Now there were only minutes left and the air of mystery and anticipation held heavy in the air.
Randy approached first. Oily, tanned, and looking like a goddamned Greek god. He walked up to his girlfriend. He was in a serious mood but nevertheless feeling cocky. He couldn't wait to get his hands on his nemesis and when Punk joined everyone as well, it was easy to see the feeling was more than mutual. The tension was so thick, one could have cut it with a knife. Memphis literally felt ill and just wanted the night to be over.
It was supposed to be an awesome week. They were all supposed to enjoy Axxess and the Hall of Fame and finally the big night. But it had been quite the opposite. Memphis had been distracted and on edge the entire time during autograph signings and interviews. Things were also still tense and uncomfortable with Randy. Backstage was buzzing with gossip and during the Hall of Fame ceremony, the camera guys had zoomed in on Randy and Memphis more than the actual inductees. Vince's strategical seating assignment that only separated them from Phil by a row only added to the misery.
"Alright everyone," Vince marched up to the participants. "This confrontation was bound to happen. Randy, Phil…you two want to rip each other apart? Well, here is your chance. You two have hated each other for years. Tonight is the night. There are no rules, no boundaries and no planned spots. As long as you put on a hell of a show and in the process not actually kill the other guy, I am game for whatever happens."
"Mr. McMahon," Memphis whispered in a pleading tone.
"Only stipulation?" he ignored her. "Punk gets over."
"What?" Randy asked in disbelief. "Come on, Vince! You cannot be serious!"
Vince just smirked.
"After all the shit you have pulled over the years and now this mess you created…did you really think I'd let you walk out of Wrestlemania with a victory and the Championship?"
Randy spat on the floor.
"What the fuck ever. I'll drop the belt. I don't care. The checks still cash the same. As long as I get to beat the shit out of this motherfucker…"
"This is the motherfucker that is going to give you the beating of your life," Punk sneered. "Better go call Daddy or get on you knees and pray to your god. I sure as hell can't think of anything else that can save your ass."
"You've got less than five minutes…try to conduct yourselves like the gentlemen you're obviously not," Vince scoffed and straightened his designer jacket.
Memphis wrapped her arms around herself. Could it get any worse?
"Memphis, you're on," a PA let her know.
She nodded and started to make her way out. She stopped and looked back at Phil. Fire burned his eyes. She looked over at Randy. Ice water flowed in his. Shaking her head, she walked out. The ramp was almost triple the normal length for Wrestlemania. Justin Roberts announced her and the very mention of the name was drowned out in a sea of boos. It was personal and it was hurtful and extremely hard to deal with. It was the longest walk of her life, couldn't have been any worse if she were walking to her death and in a way, that's what it felt like.
She climbed the steps and entered the ring as Justin politely held the ropes. He gave her an encouraging and sympathetic nod. She took a deep breath and put on her game face. Their words and jeers, their signs that read "whore" and "don't worry, Memphis screwed my boyfriend, too" did not effect her. Standing in the center of the ring, the Titantron briefly recapped the feud. Memphis suppressed genuine rage when real life personal pictures of her and Phil and then she and Randy, were used to add fuel to the fire.
The lights dimmed and "Voices" began to play. The crowd booed loudly once more as the WWE Champion sauntered down the ramp with a cool smirk on his face. He lived for moments like that. He slid between the ropes, walking right by Memphis looking in her eyes before standing to do an extra long yet classic Orton pose. Memphis did not react, not even when Phil walked out. When the lights came on, the two foes met in the center of the ring. A "CM Punk" chant began in the stands. Memphis stood between them. The introductions were given and there was no stopping the inevitable. Street fight rules. Real life hatred. All she could do was signal them to ring the bell.
They locked up immediately, utter aggression outweighing the technical aspect. Punk pushed Randy into the corner and he unleashed a sea of kicks. Memphis could tell right away that the physical contact was more than real. These two adversaries were out for blood. When his opponent was down, Punk jumped into the audience and retrieved two steel chairs, wasting no time using them. Randy was struggling and the pain was intense and to get back in the fight, he threw a wild punch to the face.
He grabbed one of the chairs and slammed it hard against Punk's forehead, taking him down, drop kicking him out of the ring for good measure. It was on the floor now, an all out brawl looking more like a bar fight than a sporting event. They were wild and out of control, several times nearly falling into the front row. They took it to the announce tables, both Spanish and American and when it finally made it back to the ring, Randy exposed the turnbuckle.
Punk made it to his feet and delivered several Ric Flair style chops before a textbook flying knee straight to the face. Then it was back to bare knuckle brawling. Both were lost in anger but it made for a hell of a show. Within a matter of minutes, both men were busted open and blood was everywhere. There was no way of reasoning with them or maintaining order. And Memphis could only pray that Randy's neck was not broken when he got piledrived hard onto the steel steps. They made it back to the ring and after Randy recovered, he went for a cover for which Memphis made it to two. Punk kicked out. The momentum went back and forth. They knew what they were doing…chair shots and fists flying. They were putting it all on the line, reckless and foolishly risking limb and career just to beat each other up. Randy tried for several more pins but to no avail.
"You okay?" Memphis leaned in. "About 20 more minutes. Punk, you gotta give me a signal when you hit the GTS."
He ignored her and they shifted gears back towards wrestling. Powerslams. Bulldogs. Even a few classic submission holds. The fans were way into it and Memphis had taken emotion completely out of the game unphased as blood continued to pour. They even went for a few high flying moves, completely out of Randy's comfort zone and spots Punk had favored more in his younger Indy years. It was bloody and brutal and back and forth and they could have gone on all night punishing each other, despite the fact that both their bodies were spent. Memphis received a warning for time limit in her earpiece. It had already been 25 crazy minutes and she was being told to have them wrap it up in the next 10.
Memphis gave them the signal and it pissed her off when it looked they both were paying no attention her. If the no disqualification stipulation had not been in effect, she would have gladly gotten physical with both men, she was so mad. It felt like it would never end and it was getting to the point where someone was going to get seriously hurt. It was not a "Falls Count Anywhere" matchup so Punk would have to win inside the ring. When they made it back in, Memphis wedged between them.
"Next time you go for a pin, I am going to count it a three. You pull some shit and I swear to God I will put Randy over with an RKO."
She was mad as hell and when Randy went to knee Punk in the gut, Punk countered, took him down and put him in an Anaconda Vice. Randy was holding out, refusing to sell. If he had to lose, his pride would not let it be via submission but Memphis had had enough. When Randy got out of the hold, Punk went for the GTS and Memphis hit the three. Punk's music blared and the WWE Universe went crazy. Both men collapsed to the ground and Memphis did her officiating duties to check on both of them so she could let production know, via her mic that there was no real life need for a medic. Memphis handed over the title and attempted to raise Punk's hand. Punk snatched the Championship and jerked his hand away from her. He celebrated near the ropes but Randy was not to be outdone. He stood and grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stormed over towards Memphis.
"You see this? You see it? You take the belt home tonight but I take your girl. I get the real prize and you will never have it again! You never did!" Randy taunted.
With that, he grabbed Memphis roughly by the arms and pulled her in, giving her a kiss. It was rough and hard, a primal display of territory claiming in lieu of tender affection. He sucked Memphis' lips hard, biting down. She cried out and squirmed away, nearly falling down as she wiggled out of his embrace. A look of horror and shame fell over her face. Her own blood dripped from her lip, mixing with Randy's. Her hand was shaking as she touched her face.
"Fuck you," Punk mouthed, shaking his head in disgust and exiting the ring.
Randy, still irate, grabbed Memphis' hand and practically dragged her up the ramp. She was humiliated and angry but more in shock than anything. The fans were in a frenzy, even throwing soda and beer at them as they walked. They made it to the back where the other talent had lined up as a customary show of respect for good work, though no one spoke a word. Vince just shook his head and stormed off. The only person that dared speak was John Cena.
"Hell of a work, gentlemen. Congratulations, you two just beat the holy hell out of each other. You'll be lucky if either one of you can walk tomorrow. I hope it was worth it to you. Whether it was or not, this is the end of the line. What's done is done and you damned sure can't kill each other every night. So it's over. Just let it be over."
Punk walked away and Randy wiped the blood from his forehead.
"Let's get out of here," he nodded to Memphis. "Let's shower on the bus."
He was a lunatic. He had to be if he actually thought she would go anywhere with him. Still holding her bruised lip, she simply walked away. She didn't care where she was going, she just knew she had to get the hell out of there.