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Hex Angel

"Eli - catch."

As Eli Flair entered the backstage area from the ring, he was met almost immediately by Poison Ivy, still fuming over what happened during the US Title match. But she has her cellular phone in her hand, tossing it to Eli.


"You've never had a smile that big on your face during a match... at least in the time I've been with you."

Eli recognized the voice - it was his Angel.

"Working a match, even for three minutes, with that man is one of the best times I've had, Angel," said Eli, "I don't think things could go better than they did."

"Tell that to Ivy," replied Angel, "You'd think she'd never taken part in a match she didn't like the outcome of. I don't know what the history is with Codine but she's royally pissed at him."

Eli paced, holding up a hand toward Rudy Seitzer, rapidly approaching him with a sheet of paper in his hand.

"She'll have to deal."

"I don't think you mean that."

"Why not?"

"Because you're worried about her."

"Hah, that's a laugh," said Eli, a bit too quickly, "I'm not worried about her... quite the contrary, I'm worried about MYSELF because of her."

"I'm confused."

"Did you read her column?"

"Yeah I did. Why?"

"She brought up the sh*t that went down with me and Zieba's EWI. Zieba and I had settled our differences a good two years ago, and now her problems with the GXW boys is gonna be mine."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Bull. She took the choice outta my hands. She made it my problem. You don't understand, Angel... this business is half politics. You can get to the top of the music business just by being the best band in the world... you can get almost to the top of the midcard in the wrestling business on ability alone."

"You're a politician?"

"Hell no, but Merritt saw how I get a crowd up, and saw a way to get Hornet under control again after he branded Vizzack, and the money came in. Simple as that."

Rudy moves in quietly and hands Eli the slice of paper, leaving just as quietly. Eli almost absent- mindedly looks at it, then stops, reads it again, and looks around rapidly.

"Listen, Angel... I need to jet. I'll call you from the hotel tonight after the show is over, kay?"

"Ok. I love you."

"Love you too."

Eli hangs up the phone, putting it in his pocket.

"Hey," he grabbed Bob, one of the CSWA's producers, "Do me a favor?"

"Shoot," said Bob.

"I need a camera and somewhere quiet... and I need it fast."

"Sure, no problem. Why fast?"

Eli looked over his shoulder toward the curtain, leading back toward the ring. Evan Aho was standing there, stretching his arms, loosening them up for his title defense against Mark Windham.

"I just have a feeling," replied Eli, "and I want to be finished before too much can go down in the main event."

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