A/N: Don't fret, friends. I still hate Batistafhaskdfhdfjsjfdjfa. Sorry, that's how angry he makes me. But, I did once say that I would eventually write every Superstar and Diva, so here we have it. And if Danielle didn't ask, I probably would have made up some freak of an OC. Meh. And this story probably wouldn't be written at all if a certain WWE Superstar hadn't referred to me as his soulmate. For details, see the profile of SunnyLee.

Tell your friends, kids. Tell your friends.

"Put down the fucking magazine and let's get to work," John Cena said, reaching out and yanking the issue of Muscle Car Weekly out of Dave Batista's hands. Angrily, he growled, "Come on. We have a tag team match to go over with Cody and Ted, and I don't want our spots getting screwed up because you're too worried about your new engine that's coming in from Germany!"

"Settle down, Cena," Dave rumbled back, standing up and snatching the magazine back from John. "I'm just reading a magazine, here. It's not like I'm neglecting my job or anything."

"Not neglecting your job? Jesus Christ, Dave! You bring a different girl here each show with a different car. You spend more time texting your cheap lays and ordering new parts for your custom cars. Are you forgetting where this money is coming from? Your job is what's paying for you to be able to take out the rats and buy new rides. But you don't appreciate that, do you?"

"You're one to talk, Cena," Dave mumbled. "You're just as obsessed with cars as I am, if not more."

"Why am I even arguing with you about this? I, unlike you, care about what happens out there. I don't want anybody to get hurt. And with your level of concentration and devotion to this, somebody is going to get hurt."

"You know what, Cena? I hope it's you. That way, I don't have to hear your bitching."

John sighed. "You selfish bastard. If I were in your place, I would hope to god that it was me who got injured so that others wouldn't have to pay for my stupidity. The careers of those two kids are too young to be damaged by an injury."

"You don't give a damn about either of them, Cena. You know that."

"To hell I don't," John rolled his eyes. "Look, guys like us aren't going to last here forever. But it looks like you aren't going to last much longer at all. You're lucky that you're so over with the fans. If there's one thing that Vince loves more than anything, it's work ethic. That's something that you clearly don't have."

"Oh, you're on first name terms with the boss?" Batista asked, raising his eyebrows. "How about you get your head out of his ass and leave me alone. That, John, would be quite an accomplishment for you."

"You know what, Dave? I don't care anymore. Just read your magazine and find yourself a pretty new car to pick up pretty new girls. Whatever. But when you land in a hospital because you're an idiot, don't expect me to visit you."