A/N: This is the end.
Nope. No more.
Well, maybe an epilogue in the far future, but nothing now.
You will better understand this last chapter if you have seen Borat. I slightly explain, but it is oh so much funnier if you already know it.
Tonight is the night when two become one.
Why the hell am I quoting the Spice Girls? Ugh. Okay, I'm pretty sure that tonight I'm going to fuck Randy anyways…
But in all seriousness, today is the day that Randy's little devious plot either comes together or falls apart spectacularly.
Either way, it should be entertaining for someone. I'm just not sure who it will entertain, exactly.
Hm, what should I wear? I mean, I do have all night to decide since I've got the day off, but I take hella long to get ready. I need to look absolutely perfect tonight.
Randy said we're going to a coffee house. Um, that pretty much eliminates all my formal wear and business clothing.
Jeans and a t-shirt? Maybe that's a bit too scrubby. I don't want to be running around looking like Sam, after all.
You know, her current wardrobe selections have been pissing me off lately. Actually, they've been making me laugh. On the pissed off level, they just piss me off because I have to look at them when she makes a pitiful attempt to get in my face. Ever since Randy kicked her sorry ass to the curb, her choice in clothing has been a bit lackluster. Since she no longer has Randy's bank account to fulfill her cheap designer addiction, she's been torn up. It makes me smile. I hate that woman. Anything that makes me look better than her is a good thing.
Then again, virtually everything makes me look better than her.
I've finally picked it out. I've got a tight fitting black shirt and tight jeans. I curled my hair and made everything look better than usual.
Randy Orton is so going to fuck me in this.
Correction: He is so going to fuck me while these clothes just lay on the bedroom floor.
Charlie: Hey, Ash. What's up.
Ashley: Great stuff.
Charlie: Ooh! Please explain.
Ashley: Well it's about Matt.
Charlie: Are you two together yet?
Ashley: Just about, I think.
Ashley: We just went to the movies.
Charlie: What movie did you see?
Ashley: In all honesty…
Charlie: Oh, no, Ash.
Ashley: Yeah, we made out the whole time.
Charlie: Couldn't you wait until you got back from the movie?
Ashley: Not really.
Charlie: Why not?
Ashley: It just kind of…happened.
Charlie: So Matt basically paid twenty bucks so you two could make out?
Ashley: It sounds a lot worse when you say it like that.
Charlie: You could have been getting it on for free!
Ashley: Don't worry. We will be soon.
Becky: What the hell do you want?
Cody: What's with the fucking attitude?
Becky: The attitude leaves when you stop being a jackass.
Cody: You're in luck.
Becky: And why is that?
Cody: That day is today.
Becky: Oh, I'm so sure.
Cody: See? That's exactly what your problem is. You don't believe anything that I say.
Becky: And why the hell should I? You don't believe anything that I say, either.
Cody: And I'm trying to change that. You have the week off today, right?
Cody: Are you coming down to the arena at all?
Becky: Wasn't planning on it.
Cody: If you had a reason to come down, would you?
Becky: Probably not. I guess it depends on what that reason is.
Cody: Take a wild guess.
Becky: Why don't you just tell me? I hate guessing games.
Becky: That isn't a reason for me to go down to the arena. That's a reason for me to climb up to the roof of this damn hotel and jump off.
Cody: Aren't you a lovely little thing?
Becky: I pride myself on it.
Cody: All joking aside, will you please come down?
Becky: What's in it for me?
Cody: You'll see.
Becky: Can't you just tell me?
Cody: But that would ruin the surprise.
Becky: I hate surprises.
Cody: I don't.
Becky: Would it surprise you if I came down to the arena?
Becky: Well, I guess that would put you in a good mood, meaning that I shouldn't do it.
Should thinking about sex make me nervous?
No, probably not.
Should thinking about sex with my boyfriend make me nervous?
No, probably not.
Should thinking about sex with my boyfriend who just happens to be John Cena make me nervous?
Okay, this kind of shit wouldn't normally make me nervous, but Dave makes it totally worse.
Dave shouldn't be allowed to watch television anymore.
Hell yeah, I'm fucking nervous.
So, I called Danielle to help me out.
"Ready, baby?" Randy asked as he entered the hotel room.
"Almost," Dominique said as she exited the bathroom after just lightly spraying herself with perfume. She slid on her Gucci stilettos and grabbed her Juicy Couture handbag before following Randy out of the hotel room.
"You look fucking sexy, Dom," Randy sighed. "If I didn't have this whole thing already planned out, we'd have to go right back into that room."
"That's actually a very good idea, Mr. Orton. You don't look too shabby yourself."
"Don't tempt me, baby. We have work to do."
Matt just told me about his movie theatre rendezvous with the lovely Ashley Massaro.
Good fucking boy.
Now, he just needs to ask her.
Or I can just bother him right now about it. He's at the door.
"What's up, man?"
Matt seems a bit giddier than usual today. One of three things happened.
One: He finally asked Ashley to be his girlfriend and she accepted.
Two: He and Ashley just had sex.
Three: He really needs to use the bathroom.
"Oh, nothing," he grinned. "Where's Charlie?"
"She's out with Ashley. They left about ten minutes before your ugly ass showed up."
"You shouldn't call me ugly, Jeff. We are brothers, after all."
Randomly enough, we both ended up standing in front of a mirror on the wall. "Matt, we don't look a damn thing alike," I said.
You're damn right, I'm right.
"Do you even remember what movie you went to see?"
"Not at all." That fucker. He thinks that he's so freaking awesome because he made out with his girlfriend in a movie theatre. Big flipping deal. Thirteen year olds do that. Hell, I probably did that kind of shit when I was ten.
After all, I'm the brother that's got the moves with the ladies.
Don't tell Charlie I said that. I don't want her to take that shit the wrong way. I'm not cheating or anything; I swear. I just have a bad habit of saying things that I don't mean in the wrong way.
Ashley and Maria walked through the door. Not even two seconds since she's been in the room, Ashley nearly killed Matt and started making out with him.
"Are they back together now?" I asked the obvious question to Charlie.
This is my last Monday off. Why not go and visit RAW?
I mean, I have friends there. I can go see John and see if he's still being a little bitch about life. I can see Becky and see if she's still having Cody trouble.
I guess that I don't have to wait. Here she is now.
"Adam, what are you doing here?"
She looks different. That isn't the same Becky I met way back when. I can't quite put my finger on it, but she looks really different. Yet she looks exactly the same at the same time. Does that make any sense at all? Probably not.
"It's my last Monday off, and it's my last day off this week before the television tapings tomorrow. Who are you wrestling tonight?"
"No one. I'm off this week."
"Then why are you here?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
"You already did. Now, if you don't mind me saying so, you look different today."
"Really?" Her face lit up. I suppose that was her desired effect or something.
"Runnels, right?" Just for the record, I am ever damn bit as smart as my character on television is. The only difference is really the jerk factor.
"How did you know?"
"I'm not an idiot."
She rolled her eyes. I think she's trying to be funny with me.
"Have you seen him at all?"
"Nope. I just got here, hoping to run into either you or John."
"Mission accomplished. Well, I should probably go and meet Cody then."
"I'm going to need it."
No, she's not. She can have anyone she wants. She just has about zilch in she self confidence area of life. Shame.
"I'm here. Now what is this crap about me needing to help you getting ready?"
She started laughing. "It's nice to see you too, Danielle."
I came ready with my whole entire makeup and hair kit. I have a lot of shit, not that I use it all. I just like to be prepared. You want sparkly purple eye shadow? I've got it. I swear, I could supply that New York bitch with makeup for every single one of her crazy outfits if I wanted.
I'm just that damn awesome.
"What do you want done?"
"I don't know…I think I want something nice done to my hair."
Was she serious?
"Brittany, there is no point in me doing your hair nicely."
"Why not? I want to look nice."
"Because it's going to get messed up anyways. Besides, John isn't going to care what you look like when you get to business. He's just going to have a huge smile on his face the whole time, so don't get freaked out."
"That is kind of creepy."
"Yeah, I'm getting scared just thinking about it." John smiling like a nut? Well then, he should just join the circus. Or maybe a freak show would suit him better. "What about your makeup? You're not going to want it heavy in case you start sweating it off…"
"…Or if you start hurting and you cry or something. I mean, John's a pretty big guy, so I'm sure that his--"
"I'll find out for myself later tonight, thanks. Please, spare me. I love you and all, but this is just getting ridiculous."
"It's just the way I am, Brittany. You get me on a rant about a hot guy, and I just don't stop."
I ended up just lightly curling her hair and putting on scarce makeup. I didn't want to put any clips in her hair. They could penetrate her skull if things got hot and heavy enough.
"So, what are you doing tonight?" she asked as she got dressed in the bathroom.
"I don't know. I'll probably make Dave give me a back massage or something."
"Isn't he going to complain about how he's the wrestler?"
"Probably, but I'm the one doing all the work every night."
"Hey, don't mention it."
I really feel like giving Randy some extreme road head right now.
Yeah, I just said that.
It's killing me, it really is.
It's a good thing we're already here. I might have ripped off Randy's nice and expensive dress shirt, and that would be a complete waste of good clothing.
The little coffee shop was quite quaint, but cute.
Wow, they have some strange coffee flavors here. Randy ordered us two mint mochas. After we got our coffees, we went upstairs to the smoking section of the place.
Now, don't misunderstand that. We weren't smoking. There was just simply more room up here. If I knew that Sam wasn't going to be here, I would be much more lighthearted about this whole situation. I would probably make fun of him for the whole marijuana thing. You know, he got caught for marijuana backstage that one time. But that was before the instituted the one thousand dollar fine and stuff.
I finished my coffee rather quickly, and then I had to pee.
Once I got out of the bathroom, I wasn't too happy.
Sam was already there and sitting at the table.
Maybe these two will finally get the fucking ball rolling on this thing. They've been dicking around for how long now?
Hell, I feel just as emotionally involved as they are right now. I blame Cody.
Shit, he actually wore something decent for the occasion. He must really like her. Either that or he's desperate. I choose to believe that first option.
Since I am pretty much like his older sister or something, I feel obligated to give him the pre game pep talk.
"Are you ready for this?" I knew what he was going to say. He was going to apologize and be a little Romeo about the whole thing. It would be some shit lines straight out of a movie. He's not the most charismatic dude on earth, so my guess was that he was going to botch it up.
My other guess is that Becky won't give a damn. But hasn't anyone told him that she hates romance movies?
"Yeah, I think so."
We started walking down the hallway to where he was supposed to meet her. Shit, where's Kennedy? I know that romance isn't his preferred genre, but this whole thing could make a cute little video.
But, of course, every romance story needs a villain.
Who invited Edge?
I could barely manage to look up at Cody. He hates Edge. Well, he doesn't really hate Edge, but…
Hate is as good as a word that I can come up with right now.
Oh, Becky, you tragic little thing.
I think they were parting ways. Not like it is going to matter in the end. She popped up on her tiptoes and gave Edge a kiss on the cheek.
Now, to a girl, it would be no big deal. This is not a big deal at all. They are just friends. We all know that, except for Captain Jackass over here. The thing is, Cody doesn't think like a girl. Hell, he doesn't even think like a human most of the time.
To Cody, Becky just dropped an atomic bomb on him, and he didn't live to tell the tale.
I can already sense Cody getting pissed off next to me.
Once again, uh-oh.
I have nothing to do anymore.
There are no secret missions to attend to.
Jeff and I can't play James Bond and the hot Bond girl.
I suppose that I should ring up my sister and see how she's doing. I haven't spoken to her in so long.
Nah, I probably shouldn't do that. I hear she's been really different lately.
Jeff is gone. I have no idea what to do.
Should I watch a movie? No, that's not fun enough.
Ah, here's that little jerk.
"Are you ready?" I asked.
"I think you're quoting the wrong Superstar," Brittany laughed.
"Okay, well when you're in bed and he takes off his pants, you better say 'the champ is here!'"
"Danielle, that was incessantly lewd."
"And yet, it still made you laugh."
"That it did, and yes, I think I'm ready."
"Good, because I'm not going to be standing there telling you what to do and telling you when your hair gets messed up."
Brittany rolled her eyes. I don't think she likes my dirty jokes. Well, being Dave's girlfriend will do that to a girl.
"Okay, then. How far down is John's hotel room."
"Um," she started as she put on some lip gloss, "just a floor up."
"Well, at least you look like you're going about normal business," I said. It was true. She was wearing the cami underneath her normal stuff.
"Yeah, Danielle, because everyone will be wondering what I'm doing walking around a hotel by myself."
"Brit, you just made yourself kind of sound like a hooker or something."
"Thanks," she laughed before leaving.
Where's Dave? My back is starting to hurt.
"Bye," I called after Adam's retreating figure. He's the best friend I ever had, outside of Mickie.
"You agree to talk to me, and you're making out with him instead?"
You know that video on youtube where Matt Hardy reenacts his breakup with Lita? Well, he says "the fit hit the shan."
That's pretty much what happened here, but I probably would have used the correct terminology.
I could have said a variety of things. Let's make a list, shall we?
One: "A kiss on the cheek is not making out."
Two: "I am here for you. I just ran into him."
Three: "Hey, it's more than I've ever gotten from you."
I'm not too sharp with my comebacks today.
I suppose a fourth option would have been kissing him right then and there. Not like I haven't done it before.
Actually, I probably should have taken that route. Instead I let out, "I don't know what you're talking about." Of course I knew. The thing that I don't know is why Cody overreacts about every single thing that I do. It's not like I'm tied down to him or anything.
Okay, I suppose that's my fault. I'm the one that didn't give him an answer.
"You damn well know what I'm talking about, Rebecca."
Oh, hell no. I swear, if he wasn't Cody Rhodes, he'd be dead right now.
"Can I explain?"
"I'm sick of hearing your voice."
"But it was just--"
"Didn't you hear me? I meant that I didn't want you to explain."
Am I crying yet? Are those wet things streaming down from my eyes called tears?
Damnit. I'm crying. I even did my makeup all nice and pretty because I knew I'd be seeing him. I thought that I'd be seeing only him.
This is what I get for having friends.
I can't even look up at him. I know Mickie's standing somewhere behind him. I saw her when he started yelling at me. Is he gone yet? Guess not. He's yelling again.
"I don't understand you at all. You claim to like me, but there you go, running off with what's his face over there. I'm done."
"I never want to speak to you ever again."
I want to chase after him, but I know I shouldn't. Hell, I really, really should. I'm not one to chase after guys, but I really think I should.
Too late. He's gone. Once again, I am the queen of the fuck up.
"Cody, would you just let her explain?" Mickie asked, walking after him. Nice try, Mickie. It isn't going to work. He was too fast for her anyway.
She came up to me and put her arm around me. "Are you going to be alright?"
"You'll be fine."
"No, I won't be. And do you know what the worst part of this is?"
"We still have to like each other out there."
"You'll get over him."
"Am I crying?" I had to make sure. After all, I'm my thinking isn't very clear at the moment.
"Yeah, babe. You are."
"That just leaves one thing," I said, leaning back in my chair.
I don't know how this has happened, but Sam and Dominique are sitting at the same table, somewhat civilized. That is, if you call giving each other death glares constantly being civilized. I'm surprised that Sam isn't already smashed through this table.
Sam always cried about wrestling being fake. Maybe that would show her. But maybe I shouldn't have Dom do that. After all, if I want Sam out of our fucking lives, I need her to be alive so that can happen.
"What is that, darling?" Dominique asked, making sure to put extra emphasis on that last word. Damn, she wanted Sam to know that I was hers. But it's not like Sam's going to be around for long, anyways.
"Not so fast," I said, stopping the whole thing. Please, I'm Randy fucking Orton. I like to draw things out nice and slow. I know this is torturing Dom, but it will all be worth it in the end. "Let's go over the clues."
"Oh, are you two role playing or something? Like are you pretending to be a detective solving a crime, Randy?" Sam butted in. Uh-oh. Here we go. "Remember that one time when you brought home those handcuffs and pretended to be a cop while I--"
"Thank you, Sam!" I interrupted. Dom is raunchy and all, but she didn't need to hear any of that past stuff. My past sure as hell won't matter to either of us once I'm done here tonight. "We have three people: Sam, Dom, and myself."
"Wow, Orton, you can count. We get it. Now get on with your brilliant plan," Dominique huffed. Yeah, she'll be huffing something else later on tonight.
"Don't worry, baby. You'll love this whole thing soon enough. We are at the correct place that I specified. Now, we're just missing the single prop that will end all of this."
"Is it a gun so I can blast this bitch's head off?" Oh, Dom. That is a threat. Good girl. But it's a better thing that Sam is too stupid to know that it's a threat.
"No, it's too small to be a gun." I reached into the pocket of my jacket and pulled out the item in question.
Sam loudly gasped when she saw me twirling the small box in my hand. "Randy, I totally accept!"
What? Oh, that bitch must think I'm going to ask her to marry me. Um…how about not.
"Normally, after a remark like that, Sam, I would ask Dominique to politely smash your face in. Tonight, however, you are in luck. This evening is too precious to ruin by spilling the blood of a treacherous beast." Here we go.
Now, I don't wear pants often. Well, that was an odd thing to say. I'm usually too busy fucking Dom, or I'm wrestling. However when I do wear pants, I wear expensive ones. I don't want to get these ones dirty, but I am willing to sacrifice that to get Sam out of here.
I bent down on one knee. I think Sam started crying. She must still thing I'm proposing to her. Funny. I'm not even facing her. She's on the completely other side of the table right now. Dumb whore.
"Dom, baby, please get this wretched woman out of our lives once and for all and marry me."
I know that wasn't exactly conventional. Normally, the man would politely ask his girlfriend to marry him. I sort of…demanded. Does that make me a bad person?
Even if it does, it's a good thing that women fall at my feet.
"Yes!" Dom squealed as Sam stood up and walked away.
As bitchy as Sam is, she would never go after a married man.
At least I hope not.
"Charlie," Jeff said as he entered the room. "I have a surprise for you."
"Oh! What is it?" Charlie excitedly asked, jumping off the bed and running to her boyfriend.
Jeff showed her what he was hiding behind his back. It was a bouquet of flowers.
Charlie opened it to see a dozen…daisies.
"You remembered…" Charlie sighed.
"Yes, I did."
I like funny movies.
Considering my current situation and location, I shouldn't be thinking about comedic lines. I'm in a bed in a hotel room, having sex with my girlfriend. I am one strange dude.
I'm not laughing at her. She's freaking great. The thing is…
I can't help but be reminded of Borat right now.
I know what you're thinking, but I'm not the world's smartest guy or anything. I like that movie. Hell, I love that movie.
Now I've just thought of another thing that you could be thinking. I'm fucking my girlfriend, right? But I'm thinking about Borat. I think I need some therapy.
I'm not telling Dave about this one.
The part I'm thinking of is when he's trying to learn what is funny in America. Now, this isn't an exact quote or anything because my mind is being distracted at the moment, but here is the line that would be making me laugh right about now.
"My brother Bilo has a very funny retardation. My sister would sometimes show him her vagine and be like 'You will never get this! You will never get this! La la la la la! You will never get this!' And my brother is in his cage going crazy crazy and my sister is like 'You will never get this!' But one day, my brother breaks the cage, and he get this! High five!"
Is that sad or what?
If Borat was here, I would definitely have to give him a high five.
After all, I get this!
Then again, my naked hotel room scene is much better than his was. I'm "wrestling" around with a hot naked chick. He wrestled with a naked fat guy.
Yeah, Borat, I definitely get this.
A/N: It's over. No more.
Kaitlyn, the pants line was for you. And to answer your question: Yes. I do lyk ham sandwich.
Now I can't stop laughing.
Do me a favor.