Title: Enough!
Author: The Vampire Lucinda
Synopsis: It's 1999, and the Lord of Darkness has found a powerful, if not clumsy ally in the Big Show. And although he generally puts up with Show's mistakes, tonight, he's had enough. But what will the Big Show have to say about it? A one shot.

Disclaimer: Depending on your preference, this is either going to be really weird, oddly funny...or maybe even kinda hot. I don't know. What I can tell you is that I was inspired by Anne Rice and the fanfic writer Yhu for this one, so credit to them. Hope you enjoy...and give me feedback! Ah, just read it!


The Big Show Paul Wright cringed as the Undertaker approached him, felt himself withering under that hard green glare as the Personification of Evil snarled at him.

"What the fuck was that out there tonight?!" the Phenom yelled, backing Big Show into the wall of the locker room. "You damn near cost me the Tag Team titles!"

"Undertaker..." Paul began meekly, but was cut off as the Deadman's hand came hard across his face in a vicious slap.

"Don't you say a word. You understand me? Not a fucking word!" The Lord of Darkness was furious, pacing. He had worked so much with Show, and yet the man was showing very little of that killer instinct he knew he had in him. His green eyes narrowed even further and he turned his attention to Paul Bearer, who was just about to leave the room.

"Paul, lock the door on your way out and make sure no one can get in here," the Undertaker ordered.

The Big Show swallowed hard, and felt his knees go weak as he heard the door slam shut and lock. "Sir--" he tried to plead again, but this time received a punch square in the mouth, causing his head to snap back painfully. He felt a trickle of blood running from his lips and he blinked, trying to clear the stars from his eyes.

"I said don't speak," the Undertaker said with a growl, and then sat angrily on the only bench in the locker room. He was silent for several minutes, watching Paul Wright squirm, before speaking again. "What am I going to do with you?" he asked, never removing his deadly gaze. "You're almost completely useless to me..."

"I'm trying my best!" Big Show yelled, feeling very much hurt in his heart. He truly admired the Undertaker, and he really wanted the Lord of Darkness to acknowledge him, but nothing he did ever seemed to be enough... Which is why he wasn't surprised when he felt himself doubling over with pain as the Deadman's knee slammed into his groin. He sank slowly to the ground, holding his injured jewels, feeling his heart break. Or at least, that's what he thought it was...

"I'm fucking sick of you, do you hear me? Next time you fuck up a match, I'll have your ass sacrificed so fast, you're fucking head will spin! You got that?" The Undertaker looked down at Big Show, expecting the usual cowering and apologizing. Instead, he saw that the younger-but-much-bigger man was perfectly still on the ground.

Paul felt tears touch the corner of his eyes. "I admire you so much," he said softly, slowly rising to his knees. "But I'll never be good enough for you will I?" Leaning heavily against the wall, he stood up, looking directly into the Undertaker's green eyes. "Will I?!"

The Lord of Darkness was a bit surprised at this little display, but was too enraged to care. "Get out," he said in a low, deadly voice. "Get out of here before I decide to kick your ass some more. Tomorrow, you're going to have to prove yourself to me yet again by facing--" His voice was cut off in mid-sentence as he felt a giant hand slap around his throat. The Undertaker's green eyes widened slightly, and he looked up into Big Show's eyes. They were burning with rage!

'Great. Now he finds his inner killer,' the Deadman thought, trying to tear away from the giant's grasp, and finding himself unable to. 'Shit.'

"Let me go," he commanded with a snarl. "Or I'll make you pay--" The pressure around his neck increased, and he had to gasp for air.

"You said you're sick of me fucking up," Paul said, body trembling with rage. "Well I'm sick of you!" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Lord of Darkness preparing to hit him, so in one fluid motion, he slammed the Undertaker's head against the same wall he had been using to support himself, knocking the Deadman almost loopy. "I've had enough!"

The Undertaker blinked, trying to clear his swirling vision. "Son of a bitch," he rasped, trying to pull free again, and again unable to. A long, tense moment passed before either man moved or spoke.

"So...what are you going to do?" the Phenom asked with a small grin. "You gonna kill me? Beat me up? I know you don't have the balls to, and even if you did, you know very well I'd just come back and make your life a living hell."

The Big Show winced, knowing that his evil mentor was right. He looked down at the bench, then at his hand wrapped tightly around the Undertaker's neck, and soon enough, a grin to match his mentor's was on his lips.

"I'm not going to kill you," Paul Wright said with a smirk. "Nor am I going to beat you to a bloody pulp, although God knows I want to." His smile widened. "No, I'm going to do something much better than that... Something that I'm sure you needed as a kid, and didn't get."

For a moment, the Undertaker was completely baffled, unable to figure out what the hell Show was talking about. He was about to make some snide remark, when suddenly, he felt Big Show's free hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him down as the giant man took a seat on the bench.

"The fuck are you doing?!" the Dark Lord growled, feeling Big Show grab him around his waist and lay him face down across his lap. He started to reach back with the arm that wasn't pinned against the Big Show's stomach, but almost instantly felt it twisted painfully back so that he couldn't get away, and also forcing his to use his remaining arm and long legs for balance. "You trying to rape me or something?!"

The Big Show shook his head. "No, Undertaker, that's your department. I'm just going to give you something you've earned time and time again." Without another word, he raised his large hand high in the air—as if he was going to chokeslam someone—and brought it down hard, open-palmed, against his mentor's backside.

The Undertaker started in surprise at the blow, green eyes widening even more than before. "What the hell are you doing?!" he yelled angrily, but was silenced by another blow, harder than the last, that made him wince.

"What do you think I'm doing?" the Big Show asked calmly. "You've been acting like a goddamn kid who throws a tantrum any time he doesn't have his way. I've been taking a lot of shit from you lately, trying my best to please you, but I'm tired of it. I'm tired of you pushing me around like I'm nothing."

"That's because you are nothing!" the Undertaker growled, and a quick succession of hard blows rained down as he tried to free himself. His long, auburn hair fell in front of his face and around his shoulders as he struggled, and the last hit had such force that he gave a short cry after it. "Get the fuck off me!" he yelled, and this time the Big Show beat his ass—literally--for a solid minute, leaving the Deadman gasping.

'This fucking hurts!' he thought, feeling the stinging pain on his ass, surprised at how much it hurt, even though he was wearing spandex. 'Damn ring gear...too thin...' The Dark Lord made another attempt to free himself, using his longs legs to try and slide off the Big Show's gigantic lap. For a moment, he thought he had succeeded, for he felt suddenly that Big Show had released his arm. However, it was only a temporary success, because Show had only released his arm to better grab his waist to give him less room to maneuver. And with a small smile, Paul Wright used his large legs to keep his mentor's long ones down and out of the way.

Now, completely immobile, the Undertaker felt his face reddening with the effort to hold back the little cries of pain that threatened to come from his lips with each brutal blow. He fought to get loose, but Show had the weight advantage by far, and it wasn't long before the Deadman acknowledged to himself that he wasn't getting free until Show let him go.

"Stop dammit!" he yelled, and to his surprise, the stinging smacks did stop. He lowered his head, eyes shut, catching his breath for a moment. "If you stop this foolishness now, I won't kill you when you let me go."

The Big Show laughed. "Sorry, Undertaker, but I can't let you go until you've calmed down a bit. If I let you up now, you'll beat the shit out of me before I could say a word."

The Lord of Darkness growled. "You're damn right I'm gonna beat the shit out of you, you no good son of a--" He gave a short cry when the blows began again, his immediate anger becoming temporarily replaced with the pain in his backside. With a gasp that sounded too much like a sob for his liking, the Undertaker grit his teeth. The last thing he wanted to do was apologize, especially to someone as low on the chart as the Big Show, but...

All of a sudden, the locker room door opened. Show stopped hitting the Undertaker, and both looked at the door to see Paul Bearer come in, eyes wide with shock as he closed and locked the door behind him.

"What the hell...?" he began, looking at the odd scene.

Paul Wright shrugged. "Just giving the Undertaker a spanking. He's earned it, I think." The Big Show smiled wickedly. "Actually, Paul, would you like a few shots at him?"

Paul Bearer's eyes widened.

"Paul, don't you dare..." the Undertaker warned, already embarrassed to be caught in such a predicament.

"You know you want to," Show teased. Suddenly, Bearer laughed.

"Well," he began slowly, inching closer to the pair. "I could go get my paddle out of the car..."

"Paul!" the Lord of Darkness gasped, eyes widening in alarm.

Big Show chuckled. "That would be perfect. Hey, Paul, I bet you we can make him cry..."

"Alright!" the Undertaker said quickly, lowering his head again. The thought of being spanked to tears like a little kid was even worse than the prospect of apologizing to the Big Show...although not by much.

"I...I'm s-s-sorry... And I...won't kill you," he said with great effort, and sighed with relief as he felt Big Show release his waist and legs, allowing him to stand. Blushing furiously, he brushed his hair back, and out of his face, giving Big Show a deadly glare.

"You're a sick freak," he muttered, before turning away quickly and leaving the locker room area. Paul Bearer looked at the Big Show with a small smile and a nod before following the Lord of Darkness out.

Show watched them go, and then shook his head, wondering if he had done the right thing. Then, with a laugh, he realize something:

He didn't really care.


Comments? Reviews? Am I weird? (laugh)