It's been a week and one day since Miz won the briefcase and the best opportunity thus far in his life. What should've been the happiest time in his career is railroaded, however, by the ridiculous rules put in place by the faceless General Manager who can only announce his orders via email.

He's now stuck in a tag team with his former friend, John Morrison, and can't cash it in until they win the unified tag team titles. Which really is a laugh when you think about it because Morrison is too busy dealing with Ted DiBiase AND being a part of the team against Nexus to even think twice about the tag titles right now.

He scrubs his face and sighs.

"Problems?"

He tenses up even more at the voice and looks up reluctantly, glowering at Morrison as he stands a few feet away. "What do you want?"

Morrison looks annoyed, obviously still remembering their final conversation, but doesn't go there, opting instead to get this conversation over with ASAP. "I've been thinking we should discuss when exactly to go after the tag titles."

Miz's eyebrows raise, an irrational anger overtaking him. "Wait, you think I'm really going to listen to some email about what I need to do with my briefcase? Well, I'm not. If the GM wants to dictate what I do, he can show himself and tell me to my face!" As Morrison looks unimpressed, Mike stands and pushes past, using his briefcase to get John out of his way easier.

Even easier is ignoring the muttered comment about denial that is obviously directed at him as he leaves the locker room. He's above such childish, jealousy-based comments so he goes towards the gorilla position as he spots on a monitor in the hallway that Sheamus is at ring side witnessing Orton's match against... someone Miz has never heard of before this moment. Morrison had distracted him momentarily but now his head's back on straight as he watches the relatively short match.

His opportunity comes as Sheamus ends up getting RKO'd and he heads to the ring, dragging a confused referee along with him. No one else seems to understand that he doesn't care what the email GM said, he's cashing in here and now because he deserves that friggin world title, no matter what some abstract power figure says or thinks about him.

"What are you doing? The General Manager said last week you can't cash in until you've won the tag titles!" the referee cries as he follows Miz down the ramp, unable to get the man to listen to reason.

"I don't care!" he bellows after a few moments, turning sharply and glaring at the cowering man. "Just do your job and count the pin. ¿Comprende?" He doesn't wait for a response, rolls into the ring and stands ready and waiting for Sheamus to stumble to his feet, move into position for the Skull Crushing Finale. This is it, in mere moments he'll be champion- except that once more fate works against him, two-fold.

His attention is diverted from Sheamus as the lights overhead flicker and that annoying as hell GM email sounder echoes through the arena- then arms wrap around his neck and he can barely blink before he crashes against the mat, briefly focusing on Orton's smug face overhead before his eyes slip closed.

A referee's checking on him when things finally quiet down enough for Michael Cole to read off the email. "As I said last week, The Miz is not allowed to cash in his Money in the Bank briefcase until he does what he claims he can do. Further attempts to ignore my authority will result in the US title being stripped."

Miz's eyes narrow in anger as he struggles to sit up and hold his neck all at once. The news only gets worse when Cole reads on to say that the GM is placing him in a tag match with Sheamus against Jericho and Cena later that night.

He slams a fist against the mat. I hate tag teams!

After the tag match goes as well as can be expected (well, he wins and gets a little further under Sheamus' skin. Everything else doesn't really matter), Miz takes it easy in the back as the show winds down. Much as he hates the GM's demands and likes spitting in the face of authority, he doesn't want to completely screw up. Things tend to snowball more and more now-a-days, one minute you're champion and the next, you're fired- he doesn't want to become the next Drew McIntyre, after all. As awesome as he is, he doesn't have it in good enough with Vince McMahon to get orders rescinded almost immediately... obviously.

Thus his simply taking his briefcase and going home, in a manner of speaking. Despite his claims earlier in the evening, he needs his US belt if he's going to get anywhere close to cashing in and man this has to be illegal somehow, but shadier stuff has gone down in and out of a WWE ring before so...

He watches critically as Cena's team hits the ring- he's barely been paying attention to this whole Nexus vs Cena drama, too caught up in his own issues, but he did get to see first hand earlier as R Truth and Morrison argued all the way back to the locker room, Morrison's jaw almost twitching in anger as Truth tried again and again to explain that whatever had happened was an accident. Morrison always was ridiculously stubborn and single-minded like that sometimes.

Miz smirks as he watches R Truth and Morrison once more begin to argue, the whole team imploding around Cena. He ignores the lurking discomfort that dulls his amusement as John is caught in the middle of the melee.

He needs a healthy partner to win the tag titles eventually, after all. Yep. Nothing more.