Troy floated into Christian Sands's locker-room as if she were walking on air. Joey Melton's half--or rather, her half--of the EPW Tag Team straps fit comfortably around her waist. She unstrapped the belt and held it up to examine it. "First thing tomorrow, I'm taking his name tag off. Talk about being liberated."
Sands quietly shut the door behind him and looked at his partner--his partner who had been missing for two-plus weeks. The surprised look on his face had disappeared momentarily after Troy's return after the mid-way point of the match, but had now reappeared as he gazed at Lindsay as she glowed, reveling in the sweetness of victory.
"Fancy seeing you here, huh?" There was a hint of sarcasm.
Sighing, Troy carefully placed the belt on the seat of the couch. She ran her fingers through her hair and turned to face Sands.
"Christian...I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. I just...I didn't have a choice once I went after Joey. I shouldn't have left you at ringside; I just wanted to wring his neck, and everything happened so fast."
With a breath, Sands walked over to the couch and sank down onto the other end, scratching his right cheek with his nails.
"It happens. You did what you thought was best... and in your situation I may have done the same. It's not like I can't take Cameron Cruise without help, anyway. Well, unless the Ford POS is there to back him up."
He reached out and clapped a hand on her shoulder.
"What'd he do to you, anyway?"
Troy flopped down next to him and bit her lower lip. "Tracked him down to a back hallway, then Evans took out my knee." She absent-mindedly rubbed her right kneecap. "Then Melton came out of a room...I dunno if it was ether or rubbing alcohol or some sort of solvent that he had on a rag. But I blacked out, woke up in a fairly nice bedroom with my knee wrapped and a splitting headache, and found my purse made it there somehow. But my phone was gone, and the battery on my PalmPilot was low. I had no way of getting ahold of you."
The mention of Troy's drugging caused Christian's eyes to narrow dangerously, his grip on her shoulder briefly tightening. He finally removed his hand, rising to stalk across the room. "Goddamn Melton..."
"Christian, please...it's done. Over." Now it was Troy's turn to stand up. "I'm here, I'm in one piece for the most part. I've got his belt; that's the sweet irony of it all."
Christian's jaw tightened for a moment. Finally he let out an angry breath, turning to glance at Troy out of the corner of his eye. "What happens in the ring," he grated, "should stay in the ring, and Joey goddamn Melton should know that after sixteen years. He's taken the fight to my partner out of the ring."
Pulling out his cellphone...
"That doesn't fly with me."
In five steps Troy stood next to him, her hand on his forearm and her glaring eyes meeting his. "I don't need you to coddle me, Christian. I put myself in that situation. I made the choice to go after him. That's not on you, that's on me."
He met that gaze for a long moment before looking slowly away, snorting. "You're my partner. Anyone who screws around with you is screwing me around by extension."
A little smirk tugged at his lips.
"Besides, I know a little friend who might take an interest in Mr. Melton..."
"I know who you're going to call, and he doesn't need to get involved in this. It's not his concern."
"It never is. If you knew him like I did you'd know he doesn't do concern. He does his job, and that's that."
"I know about GXW. I haven't been living under a rock." She ran her hand over Sands's fingers, moving his thumb away from the number 2 on his speed-dial. "If you care, Christian, like I know you do, you'll let the two of us settle this for ourselves. Third-party masochistic idiots always do more harm than good." Her hand lingered momentarily before she walked back to the couch to pick up the tag belt.
The big man scowled for just a moment, then finally flipped the phone shut, tucking it away into his back pocket.
"Maybe it WILL feel better to rip Melton apart ourselves..."
Troy gave him a sultry look and a knowing smirk as he turned his head to look at her. "I knew I could reason with you."
The faintest hint of a smirk pulled at Christian's lips. He drew closer to Troy, lifting a hand and running it through her hair. "Mmhmm... Unsurprising. You always seem to know what buttons to push."
"I do what I'm good at. You know that." The smirk became a smile. "And by the way...thanks for bringing me some gold."
The hand moved down her neck, resting just above Troy's upper back. A slow nod was Christian's response. "You're welcome. I've sort of developed a knack for it, and you had it coming. Though I'm sure Adam Benjamin is currently shitting in his union-jockey shorts..."
"Let's not talk about EPW's resident misogynist. He'll get his soon enough." Her expression hardened. "I'm going to go get changed, get into something more comfortable. Drinks later?"
With a slow nod, Christian dropped his hand from Troy's back, letting it hang at his side. "On me," he agreed to the last bit. "Least I can do."
Lindsay lovingly cradled the tag belt in the crook of her arm. "You're not that bad a guy when you put half a mind to it." She squeezed his bicep with her free hand. "Come get me in forty-five minutes, we'll take one car or whatever."
Christian's responding smirk was a bit crooked as he reached into his closet, emerging with a plain white dress shirt. He couldn't help but recall a prior conversation with Troy... "I'm evil, but only to a point."
A slow nod... "It's a date. Catch you in forty-five."
Troy opened the door and, with a wink, exited. Christian watched her go, lifting his hand to his chin thoughtfully.
"That woman..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He simply shook his head and began to slide back into his casual attire.
[“Whiskey in a Jar” by Metallica begins to play over the PA system. The audience begins to cheer as Pulsar appears from the entrance and makes his way to the ring.]
Tiffany: Ladies and gentlemen, the next match will be a singles exposition set for one fall. Introducing first... hailing from Sydney, Australia... weighing in at 240 pounds - Pulsar!!!
[He’s awarded a crowd pop at the sound of his name as he rolls into the ring. A moment later, “Hypocritical” by Methods of Mayhem fills the arena.]
Tiffany: And his opponent... weighing in at 210 pounds, and hailing from parts unknown - John! DOE!!!
MN: D’oh!!
[John Doe emerges from the entrance, coming to the ring with a lot of energy in his body language. He slides under the ropes to enter as his music ends. Both men go to their respective corners, eyeing each other wearily.]
DT: Well guys, what’s the call?
MN: Pulsar. Nuff said.
DT: Yeah, well, we know how you see John Doe. Dean?
DM: I think Pulsar’s got the talent, but if Doe uses his energy, he could control most of this match.
DT: I’d be inclined to agree with that... and as the bell rings, this match is ready to go.
DM: Both men circling each other in the ring... Doe goes in low—and Pulsar responds with a clubbing fist to the back of the head! He takes Doe around the waist...
DT: WHOA!! Massive Gutrwrench Suplex, opening Pulsar’s offensive control! What a DEVASTATING move early on in this match...
MN: Look, Pular’s hooking the leg for a cover!
DT: ONE... TWO... TH-OH NO!! Doe kicks out...
DM: That was close... Pulsar nearly stole this match in just a few seconds.
MN: Pulsar brings Doe back to his feet, and goes for an Irish Whip to the ropes... Doe on the return—DUCKS a clothesline from Pulsar! Doe off the other set of ropes—GOES FOR THE AMNESIA ATTACK—
DT: NO!! Pulsar quickly bats him away... Doe back to his feet, PUTS PULSAR DOWN with a dropkick!
DM: It’s amazing how both these guys are trying to put the other away so quickly. I don’t think it will be that easy for either of them, however.
MN: Doe is looking to take control of this match as Pulsar comes to his feet. Pulsar looking to lock-up, and Doe puts him down with a solid shoulder through!
DM: Doe hangs onto his right arm and goes for a Fujiwara Armbar!
DT: Pulsar quickly reaches out and grabs the bottom rope to break the hold... and Doe seems dismayed at the referee’s decision...
MN: Doe and Pulsar are back up at the same time... Pulsar charges with a running lariat—DUCKED by Doe!! Pulsar stops in his tracks... turns... goes for a shoulder-block—countered with a Drop Toe Hold by John Doe!
DM: I think Pulsar needs to abandon the running game...
MN: Pulsar taking a few seconds to get up... John Doe takes advantage by hitting the ropes and following up with a DEVASTATING Bulldog!!
DM: It’s safe to say he’s in control of this match.
MN: Hard to believe from a stringy little shit like that...
DT: Doe quickly goes to the corner while Pulsar is lying stunned on the mat... goes to the top, and quickly LEAPS OFF WITH A BEAUTIFUL MOONSAULT!!
DM: HE CONNECTS!! Hooks the leg for a pin!
DT: One...
Two...
NO!! Pulsar kicks out...
MN: This match is getting pretty fast-paced...
DT: Doe takes no time in getting Pulsar to his feet... Pulsar shoves him back into the ropes! Doe rebounds, and answers with a DECAPITATING spinning heel kick! Pulsar goes to the mat like a ton of bricks!
DM: Doe not even giving him a chance to take a breath... he bounces off the ropes... comes back with a RUNNING knee drop!
DT: This is like you said, Dean. If John can keep the momentum going, he’ll have Pulsar in the palm of his hand.
DM: Exactly. And as Doe brings Pulsar to his feet and takes him into the corner for some mounted punches, my point is further solidified!
MN: A shrimp like that can’t keep it up for long, though. Trust me.
DT: The ref orders Doe to break the series of punches, and he does... jumping off the second rope and following through with a Monkey Flip that puts Pulsar flat on his back!
DM: Pulsar trying to get up... trying to salvage what fighting spirit he’s got left. Doe is already on top of him... hooking his head under his arm... BAM!! Straight DDT into the mat!!
DT: Doe rolls him over and goes for the cover...
One!
Two!!
Th-NO!! Pulsar isn’t out of it yet!
MN: God, I hope not...
DT: Something’s got to give on Pulsar’s side. John Doe is back up, thinking of what he can do next. He brings his opponent to his feet and puts him in the corner... Doe setting up for a TORNADO DDT—NO!! PULSAR REVERSES INTO A DEVASTATING SPINEBUSTER!!!
DM: There you go, Dave.
MN: Pulsar is looking to turn this match around... Doe attempts to get up, but Pulsar quickly straddles him and lays into his head with a barrage of rights!
DM: He looks pissed...
DT: Pulsar lays off before the ref can get on him, and takes Doe with him... he takes him by the back of the head, and throws him RIGHT OVER THE ROPES TO THE OUTSIDE!!
MN: The crowd is behind him now. Doe scrambles to his feet on the outside, but he’s in La-La Land... Pulsar steps back for some distance, and...
DM: THERE HE GOES!! RUNNING BODY PRESS OVER THE ROPES, PASTES JOHN DOE TO THE CONCRETE OUTSIDE!!
DT: What a move!! Just like that, Pulsar has unleashed on John Doe with a series of devastating attacks! Like an explosion, he has turned this match completely around!
MN: Yeah, go Pulsar!
DT: I thought you hated this guy, Mike?
MN: Not as much as I hate Doe...
DM: The ref is at the count of four as Pulsar gets Doe back to his feet... WHIP INTO THE RINGPOST!!
MN: JESUS CHRIST!!
DT: Pulsar is tearing John Doe apart! The referee is on six as Pulsar picks John Doe up onto his shoulder and drives him down with a shoulder breaker!
DM: Pulsar slips into the ring... and goes back outside, breaking the count! He wants to give Doe more punishment...
MN: And I want to see him do it!
DT: Pulsar scrapes Doe off the ground and rolls him into the ring. He follows, and quickly hooks the leg for a cover!
ONE!
TWO!
TH-NOO!! John Doe with the kick-out...
DM: Doe has lost his steam...
DT: Perhaps he can mount a comeback?
MN: Don’t bet on it.
DT: Pulsar brings John Doe back to his feet, and whips him to the ropes... going for a back-body drop—NO! Doe leapfrogs and goes to the other end!
MN: Doe rebounds... and gets PUT TO THE GROUND WITH A MASSIVE CLOTHESLINE from Pulsar!
DM: Damn... Pulsar brings Doe back to his feet... hooks him around the waist, and plants him with a BIG Northern Lights Suplex!
DT: No bridged cover as Pulsar comes to his feet... now he takes Doe by the legs and drags him toward the corner...
MN: Uh oh... Pulsar throws his weight backwards—AND SLINGSHOTS JOHN DOE INTO THE TURNBUCKLE!! DOE EATS THE TOP ROPE!!
DM: Pulsar quickly hops to his feet... gains distance... RUNS IN WITH A CRUSHING CORNER SPLASH!!
MN: JESUS CHRIST!!
DT: Pulsar... quickly FOLLOWS THROUGH WITH AN INVERTED SUPLEX OUT OF THE CORNER!!
DM: Pulsar is on fire!
DT: THERE’S THE COVER!!
ONE!!
TWO!!
THREE—OH NO, JOHN DOE KICKS OUT!!
MN: Gawd, I nearly had a heart attack there for a second!
DT: Three powerful moves nearly put John Doe down for the count, but he’s not finished yet. Pulsar is getting Doe to his feet, looking to leave this for the history books...
MN: He sets him up for the Balck Hole!
DT: Black Hole...
MN: Whatever... hoists him up and—DOE SLIDES DOWN HIS BACK!!
DM: Whoops!
DT: Doe quickly runs against the ropes—GOING FOR THE AMNESIA ATTACK!!
MN: PULSAR CHARGES FORWARD AND DROPS HIM WITH A CLOTHESLINE!!
DM: WOW!!
DT: Doe nearly stole the match right there with the reversal, but Pulsar quickly caught him!
MN: Pulsar brings Doe up again... going for the BLACK HOLE!!
DM: DOE ROLLS OFF HIS SHOULDER AGAIN AND ROLLS HIM UP!!
DT: ONE!!
TWO!!
THREEE!!!
MN: AAAARRGH, you’ve gotta be KIDDIN’ me!!
DT: John Doe has stolen the match from Pulsar!
DM: Wow, I didn’t see that coming...
MN: Pulsar was in FULL CONTROL!!
DT: After two failed attempts at the Black Hole, Pulsar has been defeated by John Doe by a roll up pin. Disappointing finish, but a classy display of strength from both men.
DM: I thought it was a good match too.
MN: I think that’s bullshit. The ref counted too fast!
DT: Save it, Mike... Folks, we've got to take a break, but we've got more tag-team action coming right up! Smallz! Dodd! Cruise! JA! NEXT!
[Cut to a commercial for the US Army - 'Join Now And We Won't Draft You!']