The Simple Life
By Evilution

Disclaimer: All wrestling characters belong to the WWE. All references to Paris' parents are based on the movie Ocean's Eleven. I own Paris and Amanda. This story has nothing to do with Paris Hilton or the show The Simple Life-but the concept is similar. Rich girl pisses off her parents and gets cut off from the family fortune, gets sent to the WWE to learn what honest work is-you get the picture. Enjoy-Evilution.

Chapter 1-Introducing Paris Ocean

I wonder what he wants now, Paris Ocean thought as she hung up her cell phone and tossed it into her purse. She had just gotten off the phone with her father, but this time it wasn't one of his coma-inducing lectures. He simply said that he and her mother were on their way upstairs to her suite and that they were going to have a little chat. Paris shrugged absently. It was probably about her grades or more than likely, the American Express bill he undoubtedly just received. She had to admit that she had gone a little overboard at Gucci last month and the new pair of Manolo Blahniks she had just bought was a tad exorbitant, but it was no reason for her dad to have a complete meltdown, or to involve her mom for that matter. It wasn't like he didn't have the money.

Paris glanced out the window at the twinkling neon of the Las Vegas strip. The view from her penthouse on the top floor of the Bellagio was rivaled by none. Her spacious suite included a master bedroom with a double-size walk-in closet, a living room with a large screen TV and complete entertainment center, a small kitchen area, a study with a state- of-the-art laptop computer, printer, and fax, and last but not least, a full-size hot tub. The master bathroom could be described as nothing less than a religious experience-pristine and white, it was cleaned to a shine every day while Paris was either at school or shopping. Her every need and whim was catered to by nameless, faceless employees and had been since the day she was born. She was worth more than her namesake, Paris Hilton on her best day.

Paris' father was none other than Danny Ocean, former con man and grifter turned billionaire casino owner. Her mother, Tess, was an extremely beautiful and sophisticated art dealer, who ran all of the art galleries and museums in Danny's casinos and helped him manage day-to-day business. Those casinos included Paris' current residence-the Bellagio, as well as the Mirage and the MGM Grand. Danny had become a major stockholder at the MGM around 20 years ago when Paris was born. Eventually, he gained enough capital to take over the casino and a few years later, he realized his dream and built the Bellagio from the ground up. Only recently, he had acquired the Mirage when the owner had to declare bankruptcy as a result of outrageous insurance premiums over the Sigfried and Roy tiger attack incident and issues with the Nevada Gaming Commission.

Tess and Danny had been together since high school and after college, they had built a semi-secure life in New York-secure until Danny's moonlighting career as an art thief blew up in his face. He got busted during a million dollar art heist and went to prison for several years. Tess had been accused of being involved, so in order to rebuild her life, she moved to Las Vegas and divorced Danny while he was in jail. She became a respected art dealer and the live-in girlfriend of casino owner/gangster, Terry Benedict. She and Terry were happy, that is until Danny got out of prison and spearheaded a casino heist against Benedict's casinos-none other than the Mirage and the MGM. Danny and his associates got away with over 165 million dollars and he won Tess back. They got remarried after Danny spent six months in prison for parole violation and eventually, Benedict was muscled out when he couldn't cover his debts. This allowed Danny to buy into the MGM-the very casino he had robbed-and Benedict went to jail for tax evasion. He died of a heart attack in the joint, still plotting revenge on Danny until the day he kicked the bucket. Over the years, Paris had gotten used to people whispering behind her back about how her father had acquired his wealth, but she didn't care. Most people didn't really believe it because it had never been proven. Nevertheless, it was still one of the most fascinating stories in Sin City, ranking right up there with Teddy Binion's death and the exploits of the Rat Pack.

Paris sighed, still puzzling about why her father needed to see her. Probably school, she thought. Paris was in her third year at UNLV, but had yet to declare a major. She took the minimum number of credits-just enough to stay in school-and her subjects were hardly stimulating intellectually, but it allowed her enough time to pursue her hobbies-shopping, partying, and boys.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door. She crossed the room, opened the door, and allowed Danny and Tess Ocean to breeze into her suite with elegance only they could pull off. Danny, looking handsome and powerful in his gray Hugo Boss suit, ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed, salt and pepper hair as he glanced around the suite in consternation at the clothes, shoes, and CDs that littered the floor and every other surface as well. He faced off with Paris as Tess smiled awkwardly, twirling a lock of her auburn hair around her finger and occasionally brushing imaginary lint off of her navy blue suit.

"Sit down, Paris," Danny ordered as he and his wife seated themselves on the couch and Paris flopped in an oversize chair.

"Look, Dad, if this is about the Manolos, you have to understand that they were on sale. I mean, I know 390 is a lot for a pair of shoes, but they were marked down from 520 because of the little scuff on the heel and." She stopped, noticing her father's face.

Danny looked back and forth between Paris and Tess before rising to his feet and practically exploding.
"390!" he shouted. "You spent 390 on a pair of shoes?

"They were Manolo Blahniks," Paris protested.

"I don't give a damn if they were the ruby slippers from The Wizard of Oz! A 20-year old girl with no job and no money has no business wearing 390 shoes! They're going back"

"But I can't take them back," Paris cried. "They were on sale."

Danny stared at her, absolutely livid as Tess put a calming hand on his arm and encouraged him to sit down.

"Paris, dear," Tess began. "This is exactly what we wanted to talk to you about. This exorbitant spending has to stop. Your father and I may be wealthy, but we work hard for what we have. We didn't just have it handed to us. We built these casinos so our children wouldn't have to struggle like we did, but we still expect you to work and get an education."

"What your mother is so delicately trying to say, Paris, is that this free ride just came to an end," Danny said. "Paris, your mother and I love you, but we never raised you to be a spoiled brat and you never were, until you graduated from high school. Now, all you care about is shopping and partying-oh, and I forgot, spending our money. A week doesn't go by that I don't see your name in the tabloids or your picture being snapped by the paparazzi. You don't work, you don't go to school half the time-your classes are a joke and you're still practically flunking out of school! How can someone only take twelve credits and still flunk out"

"Dad, I'm sorry," Paris whined. "It's just that school is so boring."

"Boring?" Danny scoffed. "I'd be bored, too, if I was taking 'Intermediate Theater' and 'Introduction to Yoga.' Where is that going to get you in the real world? Maybe if you took some challenging classes, you wouldn't be bored."

"Paris," Tess stepped in. "We know you're intelligent. We know you have so much potential."

Paris sighed. "I know, Mom, you're right. I mean, I am 20 years old and it's time that I thought about a career. I'll tell you what-next semester, I promise I'll take some business courses and Dad can give me a job in one of the casinos. Or maybe I could work in one of your galleries, Mom."

Tess glanced at Danny, who shook his head.

"Sorry, Paris, but it's not that simple. You see, you gave in just a little too quickly and I tend to think that you've got this art of telling us what we want to hear down too well. No, there isn't going to be a next semester. Your days at UNLV are done for now."

"You're kicking me out of school?" Paris cried incredulously.

"No," Danny continued. "You're more than welcome to go to school if you have some way to pay for it. Your mother and I are tired of footing the bill for your lifestyle. Paris, you're beautiful, intelligent, and wealthy, and this will all be yours someday, but you can't just sit around and wait for that day to come. Your mother and I are still relatively young and we're very healthy, so as far as us dying goes, you might be in for a long wait. You need to work and earn your way. You have to prove to us that you're capable and deserving of this empire."

"OK, fine," Paris said, somewhat put out. "I'll just go to work for one of you."

"You're not working for me," Danny replied.

"Why not?" Paris shouted.

"You have no skills. What do you know about running a casino? I'm sorry, Paris, but I only hire people with experience and a proven track record."

Paris looked like she was about ready to cry. Seeing that Danny wasn't budging, she turned to her mother.
"Mom, you'll hire me, won't you?" she wheedled.

"Honey, what do you know about art?" Tess replied gently. "Most of the people who work for me have Masters Degrees in art history or extensive field experience."

"This is so unfair!" Paris fumed, tears welling in her eyes. "How am I going to convince a stranger to hire me if I can't even convince my own parents?"

"That's true," Danny agreed. "I mean here in Vegas, you need experience to even get a job as a waitress or a floor runner. You have to go to school to bartend. You might get on at one of the clothing stores, but then, you're on commission and you have no sales experience. I'm afraid there isn't much you're qualified for, Paris-that is, that will cover the rent for a penthouse suite at the Bellagio. Then, there's gas, food, and of course, your shopping addiction and."

"You're charging me rent?" Paris screamed, crying.

"Damn straight I am, young lady," Danny shot back. "Like I said, the free ride is about to end."

"Mom!" Paris cried, flinging herself dramatically into her mother's arms. "You can't let him do this to me! You can't just throw me out into the streets"

Paris began to sob loudly as Tess stroked her hair and looked imploringly at Danny.

"That's enough," Danny said as he handed her a handkerchief so she could blow her nose and wipe her eyes. "Despite what you may think, Paris, I'm not totally heartless. I've gotten you past the hard part-I've already found you a job."

"You have?" Paris asked, looking up.

"Oh, yes," Danny replied. "I've arranged for you to go to work for an old friend of mine in New York."

"New York?" Paris said, her smile fading. "You mean I can't stay here in Vegas"

"Your father and I thought that it would teach you to be more responsible if you didn't have us at your immediate disposal and if you were away from the temptations of Sin City," Tess explained.

"But I hate New York," she pouted.

"You won't be in New York all the time," Danny went on. "You're going to be traveling six days a week. You'll be living in hotels mostly- just what you're used to."

"So what's the job?" Paris asked, dreading the answer.

"You're going to be working for my old buddy, Vince McMahon" Danny told her.

"The wrestling guy?" Paris squeaked. "I don't know anything about wrestling! Do you think he could get me a nice office job"

Danny shook his head. "Paris, you have no office skills. You're going on the road with the wrestlers and crew-that way you can learn responsibility and maybe a little humility, too. You'll be perfectly safe- Vince just happens to be your godfather and his son, Shane, is going to be looking after you and Amanda's going, too."

Paris brightened somewhat. 'Amanda' referred to her best friend and partner in crime, Amanda Jones. Amanda lived in the suburbs over by UNLV with her father and stepmother. Her father, Jack, owned a multi-million dollar publishing company. He was never one to hassle her about not having a job because Amanda wasn't near the shopping freak Paris was. He just let her do her own thing and had a job waiting for her at his company when she was ready. Paris figured that Danny had to do some smooth talking for Jack to allow Amanda to participate in this 'adventure.'

"You'll be leaving for Louisiana Monday morning," Danny droned on. "That's where Vince's Monday night show is. Shane will pick you up at the airport and show you around. Only take the minimum of what you need because you have to carry your own bags and you'll be moving from city to city every night. Now, give me your credit cards."

Paris looked at her father, horror-struck. "You're taking my credit cards? How am I supposed to live"

"We'll give you some money to get you by until your first paycheck," Tess told her. "You're going to have to learn how to budget."

"Your travel expenses and lodging are paid for," Danny said. "And you get one meal at each show, so that just leaves your other meals and personal items. I think you can handle that, Paris."

"How am I supposed to shop?" she protested.

Danny laughed. "As long as it fits into your budget, but knowing Vince, you won't have much time to shop."

"This sucks," Paris sulked as she handed Danny her Platinum Visa and her Gold MasterCard.

"Hey, I think I got you a pretty cushy job, missy," he told her. "It beats the hell out of McDonald's, doesn't it? Oh, I want the American Express, too."

Paris rolled her eyes as she handed her father her last piece of plastic. She had hoped he wouldn't notice it was missing, but he did.

"Honey, you have all day tomorrow and what's left of tonight to get organized and pack," Tess said. "Do you want to join us for dinner?"

"No, thanks, Mom," Paris replied. "I have a ton to do. Besides, I have to call Amanda and find out how Dad convinced Jack to let her go, too." She gave Tess a hug as her parents rose to leave.

"This is for your own good," Danny told her as he kissed her cheek.

"I know, Dad. Goodnight."

Danny and Tess Ocean bid their daughter goodnight as they left her suite and headed downstairs to have dinner.

"Are we doing the right thing, Danny?" Tess worried.

"Only time will tell, I guess. I just hope she learns something."

He squeezed his wife's hand and they disappeared into the crowded dining room.

The next day:
Sunlight streamed into Paris' suite as articles of clothing flew through the air amid curses and oaths from their owner. Amanda Jones was stretched out on Paris' bed watching her best friend have a meltdown as she tried to force one more pair of designer shoes into her bag. Tall and attractive with dark hair, Amanda was the complete opposite of Paris. Where Amanda had a lankier, more athletic build, Paris was shorter with lush curves and a very feminine air about her. Amanda was more comfortable in sweats and a T-shirt with no makeup than she was in designer clothes. She had spent their entire friendship being compared to Paris' natural good looks, but she didn't blame Paris. Her best friend was about as unaffected by her beauty as the next girl and was constantly finding imaginary flaws in her otherwise perfect figure. Paris was always telling anyone who would listen that Amanda was the prettier one. Amanda wasn't sure anyone believed her, but that was OK because where Paris was considered to be somewhat uptight and conceited, Amanda was definitely the fun one.

"How can you just lie there so calm and cool when my whole life is falling apart?" Paris shouted as she pushed a sweaty lock of blond hair out of her flashing violet eyes.

"Paris, if you try to force one more thing into that bag, it's going to burst."

"I need a trunk," Paris said thoughtfully.

"Oh and how are you going to pack it around? We're not going to have valets and bell boys," Amanda explained.

"But I need all of this," Paris whined.

"What for? I'm taking one suitcase and one carry on. My dad says that we're probably going to have to wear a uniform anyway, so we don't need a lot of clothes."

"Uniform?" Paris said, wrinkling her nose. "What kind of uniform"

"Well," Amanda replied as she sat up and pulled her dark hair into a ponytail. "We're going to be part of the backstage crew, so we'll probably be wearing jeans or khakis, T-shirts, and tennis shoes. It's not a fashion show, you know."

"How can you be so fucking cheerful about this?"

Amanda sighed. "How can you not be, Paris? We're getting out of here! Besides, it might be fun. Some of those wrestlers are pretty cute."

Paris snorted derisively. "Wrestlers? Cute? Please, Amanda, they're a bunch of sweaty Neanderthals who grab each other's crotches and probably can't rub two brain cells together."

"You haven't watched wrestling in a while, have you, Paris"

"Not since I was like twelve."

"Wrestling's changed a lot. Those 'sweaty Neanderthals' are now hot-assed guys who have college educations, businesses on the side, and moonlight as rock stars."

"Name one wrestler who moonlights as a rock star."

"Moongoose McQueen."

Paris laughed. "The lead singer of Fozzy?" Fozzy was one of Paris' favorite heavy metal bands. "Please, Moongoose is not a wrestler."

"Yes, he is," Amanda argued. "His name is Chris Jericho."

"Chris what?" Paris questioned. "Never mind-I'm going there to work, not to hit on guys. I could care less about the wrestlers. I hardly think any of them will be up to my high standards anyway."

"I wish I knew when you became such a fucking snob, Paris."

"Excuse me?"

"Did I stutter?" Amanda replied. "This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to us and all you can do is sulk and bitch."

Paris chuckled. "I see now that my dad didn't have to convince your dad of anything. You were the one doing all of the convincing."

"Yeah because I want to get out of here"

"How can you want to leave Las Vegas"

"Paris, what did we do yesterday?"

"Went shopping."

"And the day before?"

"Shopping again and then we got drunk that night."

"Don't you get it?" Amanda went on. "We are in such a rut. All we do is shop, party, drink, and pass out-over and over, 24/7. It sucks and it's getting old."

"Gee, I thought it was called being young and rich. I thought we were having fun."

"Someday the fun's gonna end, Paris. Then what? Plus we're not going to be young forever. Maybe it's time to grow up."

"When did you turn into such a drag?" Paris asked sarcastically.

She expected a witty retort from Amanda, but instead, her friend just stared at her with tears in her eyes.

"I guess I just wanted this to be an adventure," Amanda explained sadly. "Just you and me. But I guess if you're so down on it, maybe I just won't go."

"Don't even say that," Paris said as she threw her arms around her friend. "I wouldn't even be agreeing to this fiasco if you weren't going, too."

"Agreeing?" Amanda laughed. "As if your father gave you much of a choice."

"Look, I'm sorry," Paris replied. "I promise I'll make the best of this."

"No more negativity"

"Negativity-what's that?" Paris laughed.

"You promise?"

"I swear on my father's grave."

"Your father's not dead"

"Maybe if he was I could get my credit cards back."


"I'm kidding! You know I think my dad's pretty cool as far as parents go."

"Hey, maybe we'll catch Vince's eye and he'll make us WWE divas."

"As if," Paris replied dryly. "No, I have a feeling Mr. McMahon is going to be quite the slave driver."

"You promised-no negativity," Amanda scolded. "Think adventure. Now, let's see if those damn shoes will fit in my bag."

Paris finished packing just in time to catch a shower and have dinner with her parents. She had managed to fit everything she needed into two suitcases, two carry-ons, and her makeup case-over twice the luggage Amanda was taking. Amanda just shook her head in exasperation and bid her friend goodnight, making plans to meet at the airport in the morning. They decided against going out one last time because they had to be up early and besides, Paris didn't want to push the envelope with her father.

Eight AM arrived too soon and before Paris knew it, her things were loaded into a limo and she was on her way to the airport with her parents. Amanda was waiting for them at the boarding gate with her father. Paris had just enough time to get her luggage checked and say a quick goodbye to Tess and Danny.

"Now, here's the money we promised you and I want you to call me when you get to Lafayette," Tess said as she hugged her daughter tightly.

"I will, Mom," Paris promised.

Danny stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his daughter as a few of the Vegas paparazzi snapped some last minute pictures.

"We love you, you understand?" he said.

"Yes, sir," Paris replied. The reality had finally sunk in.

"We're doing this for your own good."

"I know, Dad."

"Here's a credit card-it's got a 500 limit on it and it's for emergencies only. Now, I don't mean fashion emergencies or party emergencies-I mean if you really need it, it's there for you."

"Thanks, Dad," Paris said solemnly.

"I want you to make me proud, Paris," Danny went on. "Make a good impression and don't make me sorry that I recommended you to Vince." He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead.

"Good luck, Princess," he said as she turned to head down the boarding tunnel.

"I love you guys," Paris called, waving. "Bye, Mr. Jones!"

"Bye, Mr. O! Bye, Mrs. O!" Amanda yelled, pushing Paris through the gate.

Finally, they were seated on the plane and Paris was still waving at Tess and Danny as the plane took off. In a few hours, they would be landing in Lafayette, Louisiana where Shane McMahon would pick them up and introduce them to a life in the WWE.

The adventure lay ahead of them.

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