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"Now that? That's cool." -WWE (F) fanfic - (4 Parts)


Pilgrim

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Being a fomer WWE fan (Haven't watched since Cena got the belt back from Edge) I noticed that World Wrestling Entertainment was pretty poorly represented around here. So, after quickly visiting wwe.com (which I reccomend those of you unfamiliar with the living cartoon that is pro-wrestling go visit if you still want to check out these ladies) to get updated on current events, I wrote this little four-parter The story is set the week before Summerslam, and may conflict with current storylines, but I don't care. I hope you enjoy!

Important Note: This story will be updated in THIS TOPIC.

Monday Night RAW

Maria strolled happily down one of the many hallways of the arena to the office of William Regal, the new General Manager. Most people with half a brain would see being called to the General Manager's office as a bad sign, but Maria...wasn't most people. As she reached the door to the office, it suddenly swung open as Candice Michelle, the WWE Women's Champion, strutted out.

"See you around, William."

Shane followed her out, buttoning his shirt and smiling after her, until he noticed Maria.

"Whoa! Hey, don't sneak up on your General Manager!"

"Gee, sorry, William. What was it you wanted to see me about?"

"Hey, that’s either “sir” or “boss” to you. Anyways, listen up, because this is important and I want to make sure it gets through that thick skull into your, shall we say, somewhat challenged brain. Tonight, Stacy Keibler is making a special guest reappearance for the cross-brand swimsuit competition, and I have an insider tip that she very well may return to the show if she enjoys tonight. You've got an interview scheduled with her after the opening match, and I want it to be absolutely perfect, got it?"

"Got it, sir." Maria smiled.

"Yeah, see, when you say it with such little enthusiasm, it makes me think you don't get it. Listen…" He leaned close up to her face, "Stacy was one of the highest-rated divas this business has ever had. The very prospect of having a shot at getting her back nearly got my father to cut his vacation short. But I promised him I could handle it. Now, as angry as Vince will be with me if this gets screwed up, I'm going to be twice as angry with you. Got it?"

Even Maria's natural, oblivious optimism couldn't stand up to that threat. Vince McMahon's wrath was not something that any WWE employee took lightly. Nodding vigorously, she stammered out a low, "G-got it." Regal smiled.

"See, now I believe you. Go get ready."

***

"Come on, Maria, you can do this. She's just another diva, just like you. In fact, she doesn't even work here anymore. And you're…you're prettier than her, too!"

"Um, Maria? I know you're trying to psyche yourself up for this interview, but I am standing right here…"

Maria moaned. "I'm sorry, Stacy. I'm just really nervous, is all. You do look really good in that black top, by the way."

"Thanks. Don't worry about it; I'm sure you'll be fine. You do this all the time, after all, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Okay, I guess we can start…"

"Hey, Maria!" The diva interviewer turned to see Carlito, smiling reassuringly.

"Here, for good luck." He blew her a kiss and walked off. Maria smiled back at him while the cameraman tapped his foot.

"Uh, Maria, we're on."

"Er, right. Stacy, you're return-AHSHEEEW! Oh, excuse-HiiiiSHEEEW! Hitcheew Hitcheew HiiiiiiCHEEW! I don’t…CHEEEW! Know why…Hiiiiih-Sheeew Heh-Sheew! I j-just…ehhhh…st-started…sneeee-iiiiiIITCHEEW! IIISHEEW IISHEEEW!!! Sneezing.”

“Are you allergic to something maybe? Here, let me find you a tissue…”

“No, that’s okay, I think I’m…Heh-Cheew! Wait…Esheeeww!! Heeeh…hehhhh…Hiiiii-CHEEEEWW!!! Okay, snfff, I think I’m fine now….”

“Ummm, yeah, we’re pretty much out of time now. We got a commercial break in like ten seconds.” The cameraman grunted. Stacy glanced at her watch.

“Oh! I have to go get ready for the swimsuit competition. Sorry, Maria.”

As she ran off to the locker rooms, Maria rubbed at her nose with her index finger and sighed.

“Coach is not going to like this…”

***

"And we're back here at ringside with me, Jerry "The King" Lawler, and my partner Jim Ross. Wow, Maria really screwed that up, huh JR?"

"Well, it's not like it was her fault. Though I doubt our illustrious General Manager will care about that. I wouldn't want to be in Maria's shoes right now for anything in the world!"

"Ah, don't be so glum, JR. We've got a Women's championship title match coming next. You can't help but cheer up whenever the WWE divas get into the ring!"

"And we'll certainly be seeing a lot of them later tonight at the swimsuit competition, King. But there's something funny about this title defense. William Regal allowed Candice to decorate the ring as a "personal favor", which is dubious enough by itself, but then she goes and sprays nearly a gallon of some cheap perfume over it?!?"

"What, were you expecting barbed wire and thumbtacks?!?" Lawler laughed, "She's a diva, defending her Women's championship, not some lunatic defending the Hardcore championship. Now hush up, you made me miss most of Candice's entrance, so the least you could do is let me enjoy Mickie's in peace."

“Huh, Mickie seems a little reluctant to enter the ring tonight. Could it be she’s actually intimidated by Candice?”

“I have trouble believing that, JR. No disrespect to Candice, but I’d be twice as afraid of what Mickie could do to me then her. I still remember her last reign as champion. Though, now that you mention it, Candice looks awfully sure of herself in there. Maybe something is up after all?”

Mickie James inched closer to the ring while Candice taunted her. Just as she made it to the steel steps leading up into the ring, she suddenly froze. Her eyes began fluttering, and her mouth opened wide.

“HRRRAAAAHHH-CHHUUUH!!!”

“Aha! So that’s Candice’s game! Mickie must be allergic to this stinky stuff. What a low blow!”

“Ah, pipe down, JR, I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. How would Candice know that Mickie didn’t have the sophisticated sinuses necessary to appreciate the particular scent of this perfume?”

JR coughed out his response.

“I’m surprised the smell of the B.S coming out of your mouth doesn’t cover up the smell of this “sophisticated” stench. But coincidence or no, Candice is taking full advantage of Mickie’s allergies. She’s already slammed her down to the mat and has her in a Japanese-style armbar hold.”

“That means she’s planted face-first into the perfume-covered canvas! What strategy!”

The King was right: as Candice held Mickie down to the mat she began sneezing uncontrollably.”

“Haa-Shuchhh! Hah-Shhuhh! Ashuh Hashuh HAAARRR-SHUUUHCT! Huh-Chuh Hasshuuh!! RRRRAAAACHUUUUH!!!"”

“Strategy my Okalahoma ass! That’s cheating, plain and simple!”

“Well, it may no be entirely fair, but I don’t think there’s anything in the rule book about sending your opponent into a sneezing fit mid-match.”

Through watery eyes, Mickie inched towards the ring-rope and grabbed at it. The ref pulled Candice out of the submission hold while Mickie used her now-free hand to wiped at her runny nose. The second the ref moved out of the way, she sprung up at Candice and began pummeling her with a flurry of punches and kicks, backing her into a corner. She pulled a fist back for one final blow, and took a deep breath to recover from her exerting fury attack and gather energy for the last punch. However, instead of throwing the punch, she froze a second time.

“Hhhhaaaa…HRRAAAASHHUUUUHHH!!!!”

The sneeze was all the recovery time Candice needed. She grabbed her opponent by the arms and swung her into the ring corner, then scissored her legs around Mickie’s neck in the shape of a “4” and flipped forward over the rope, choking her.

“She calls it ‘Candylicious’, that hanging necklock! Flawless execution, eh JR?”

“Since this move utilizes the ring-ropes, that makes it an illegal hold, so she’ll have to release it when the ref counts to five.”

“Yeah, then comes the best part!” Lawler exclaimed. As Mickie slumped to the mat and began crawling to the center of the ring, Candice preformed her signature taunt, gyrating her hips and making a lasso-motion with one arm.

“Go daddy! Ha ha, I love this girl, JR!”

As Candice re-entered the ring, Mickie made a sudden mad dash at her and tackled her to the mat. She began another flurry of punches, but the ref forced her to relent once Candice grabbed the near-by ring rope. Once on her feet, Mickie began swinging blindly at Candice, unable to see clearly through her swollen and watery eyes.

“Hah-Chuuh! Ah-Shhuhh! C-come on....Akshuh! Where are y—CHUUH!—ou?”

Between her sneezing and her tear-filled eyes, Mickie was unable to land a single blow on Candice. The time she’d spent in the perfume-soaked ring had taken it’s toll. The Women’s champion easily avoided Mickie’s attacks and went straight for her finishing attack.

“Whoa! There’s a reason they call that a finisher, JR!”

“There sure is, King! The match usually doesn’t last much longer after that move. (Editor’s note: I have no idea what Candice’s finisher is) 1…2…3! Candice retains her title, though not without more than a little foul play.”

“Why can’t you just be happy for her, JR? Geez, I hope you don’t keep this sour mood all the way through the swimsuit competition…”

***

(Some time later that night)

“Welcome back ladies and gentlemen to Monday Night RAW! We’re just about to begin the judging for the cross-brand swimsuit competition. We’ve got all the WWE divas in the ring right this very instant, except for Mickie James who’s gone home to recover from her earlier match, and now that I look more closely, Brooke Adams isn’t in there either. That’s odd. Oh, my partner Jerry Lawler is about to begin the judging…wait a minute, what’s that?”

“Well, look what we have here…”

“It’s Carlito! Carlito is standing at the top of the entrance ramp with a microphone in one hand and some sort of remote device in the other! What’s going on?!?”

“You know, recently things have not been going too well for ol’ Carlito. I lost my chance at the World Tag Team titles, I lost a grudge match with my former partner Ric Flair, I lost my girlfriend Torrie Wilson, who’s standing in that ring right now, and recently I’ve had to deal with some ECW lunatic who keeps stalking me. But while I have to deal with all this, you divas get to frolic about in your little bikinis and shake your little asses and get huge applause from this idiot crowd. Well where’s my applause, huh? Why do I have to do hard work every week and still get booed while you little tramps just have to look pretty and you get these people eating out of your hand? That’s not cool!”

As the fans roared at Carlito, he raised the remote control over his head and placed a finger over a bright red button.

“Let’s see you make use of those cute little suits.”

As Carlito pressed the button, the ring opened up below the divas to reveal a large pool, which they all fell into. Lawler immediately leapt to help them out of the cold water as Carlito smiled smugly at his handiwork.

“Now that? That’s cool.”

“I don’t believe it, ladies and gentlemen. Carlito somehow rigged the ring into a giant trapdoor, dumping all the divas in what looks to be ice-cold water! My partner is doing his best to help them out, and it looks like we have some arena security coming down to the ring as well! We’re going to cut to a commercial, and hopefully we’ll have the ring fixed by the time we get back!”

***

“Good evening, and welcome back! Some staff mechanics were able to get the ring back into shape and we’re just about to continue on with our main event…”

“Hold on a minute, JR! I’m getting word that something’s going on backstage. We’re cutting to the Women’s locker rooms!”

The camera cuts away to show Regal standing among the entire diva division, all of them soaking wet and shivering.

“Okay, now, one at a time, what’s going on here?”

“All our c-c-c-clothes and t-towels have been s-s-stolen! S-someone b-b-broke into our locker room!” Torrie Wilson stammered.

“Why the hell w-w-wasn’t anyone g-guarding it?” Melina demanded.

“Let me think about that for a minute. The security had the option of either going to the break room and watching a swimsuit competition, or sitting around in a hallway watching a locked door. Which would they have been more likely to pick? I wonder…”

“Look, f-f-f-forget about our s-s-security issues. What about our c-clothes? We’re f-f-f-freezing to death! ” Stacy cried.

“Look, I can’t worry about that right now. I’ve got to go and get someone looking into this right away. No one ruins my show and gets away with it. Go see if Shawn Michaels has any of those T-shirts left or something.”

As the divas walked off in search of clothing, Stacy muttered just audibly enough for Regal to hear, “Wow, things s-sure are managed worse than w-w-w-when I worked here.”

The GM cracked his neck and said in a low tone, “Maria, would you come here for a minute?”

Maria returned and stood shaking before the visibly pissed off General Manager.

“Y-y-y-y-yes b-b-b-boss?”

“I want you to stay in this room and watch over it until I send someone to investigate. Do you think you can manage that?”

Maria nodded and took a seat on a bench inside the room. After she sat down, Shane reached around the doorway and turned the air-conditioning to full. The sudden drop in temperature launched Maria into a flurry of sneezes.

“HiiiitCheeew!! Tcheew-Tcheew-Tcheew-Tcheew-Tcheew!!! Heeeeeh-SHEEEEW!!!”

“I read somewhere that it’s best to keep a crime scene cool to, uh, preserve evidence. So make sure to keep this on, okay?”

Maria nodded while reaching for a tissue box. Regal smiled villainously and headed back to his office.

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As the resident WWE expert I thought you really got Maria and Mickie down right. Just a few things. For some strange reason, it seems that you keep morphing Shane McMahon and William Regal. Also, Candice's finisher is a running wheel kick :blink:

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Guest WalterDESneeze

I have been watching 20 years, they have never used that plot. You would think with all the family and freinds turning on each other, it would be a natural extension for cheating.

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Just got back from SVR 07....I'm amazed at how many quotes you but in that commentary. Props!

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Kronik, that's weirder than you think, because Regal was originally going to be Coachman. I have no idea how Shane ended up in there :yes: Just goes to show, I gotta stop writing so late into the night. Also, on another side note, that commentary was from SvR 06; I don't have 07. Good to know THQ is updating the dialogue :yes:

Thank you all for your compliments. Good to know I'm loved, Donnie :yes: This next one is a bit shorter, but as you know, ECW is a shorter show, so...yeah. Enjoy.

Tuesday Night ECW

"Hey, Brooke, can we talk to you for a minute?"

Brooke, one of the three members of ECW's Extreme Expose, a weekly dance segment on Extreme Championship Wrestling, looked up from her magazine to see former Tag-Team champions Paul London and Brain Kendrick.

"Wait a minute, aren't you two supposed to be RAW wrestlers? What're you doing here?"

"Sir William Regal appointed us to be investigators in the case of the stolen, uh, property from last night. Would you mind coming with us and answering a few questions?"

"Sure, I guess...as long as it doesn't take too long. We go on in about ten minutes."

"I promise we'll only take as long as absolutely necessary."

As London lead the two out of eyesight from Brooke's dance partners, she turned nervously to Kendrick, who hadn't spoken at all.

"Your partner doesn't say much, huh?"

"No. Hopefully, you'll be different."

Brooke turned to London with an anxious expression.

"What're you talking about? I don't know anything about what happened...mpf!"

Once she'd turned, Kendrick came from behind her with a handkerchief doused in chloroform. She lost consciousness almost immediately.

***

When Brooke awoke, she found herself tied to a steel folding chair in the arena parking lot, facing London, who was pacing back and forth, and Kendrick, who was staring at her shyly while holding a black gym bag.

"Ah, good, you're awake. Sorry about knocking you out, but we’ve been put under a lot of pressure to solve this mystery, so unfortunately a rough touch is needed. And we’ve turned up quite a load of evidence against you: You had access to the diva locker room, and you were the only diva who wasn’t at the swimsuit contest without an excuse. In fact, no one can account for your whereabouts that night. Would you care to explain that?”

Brooke glared at London.

“I’m not telling you anything. And when word gets about this, you two are going to be in worse trouble than anything Regal would do to you.”

“Hmph. We’d figured you’d say something like that. So we came prepared. Kendrick, hand me the Info-Extractor Number One.”

Nodding, Kendrick reached into the gym bag and pulled out…a feather.

“Tickle torture? You’ve got to be kidding me. Let me save you some time: I used to get into tickle fights with my sister all the time. That dinky little thing isn’t going to work on me.”

“Oh really?”

London began assailing her with the feather, to no avail.

“Curses! Well, I guess we have to move on to Number Two…”

At that point Kendrick got up to whisper something into his partner’s ear.

“What? You think so? Well, I suppose we could try it. But you’ll have to do it, I don’t think I have that sensitive a touch.”

Kendrick nodded and took the feather. He then removed a box of what was labeled “Prankster’s Choice Itching Powder” from his gym bag and sprinkled some on the feather, while Brooke looked on quizzically. Blushing, Kendrick walked up to the prisoner Diva and began lightly tracing Brooke’s nostrils with the tip of the feather. Her eyes began fluttering as her breath hitched in preparation for a sneeze.

“Wha...haaahhhh…what are you…hah-ah-ahhhhh…”

However, the tickle created by the feather wasn’t quite powerful enough, and the urge to sneeze subsided to leave her with just a tickly feeling in her nose. However, as soon as he noticed her breathing returned to normal, Kendrick moved the feather tip inside of Brooke’s nose, continuing to lightly tickle the inside of her nose. As her breathing became more irregular once more, he began rotating the feather more quickly inside her nose, dislodging some of the powder he’d placed on it earlier. Now the captive Brooke felt her nose begin to really itch; it twitched and wriggled reflexively, attempting to free itself from the tickly feather. Brooke’s eyes began watering as she once again prepared to sneeze.

“Hhhhhnnn…Hhhhaaaa Haaaaa HAAAH…”

But just before she could complete her sneeze, Kendrick withdrew the feather, and she was left with an intense tickle that continued teasing her nose, keeping her breath shallow but not allowing enough of a build-up to form a sneeze.

“Haahhhh…L-let me s-sneeze! It, ahhh, tickles, ahhhh-Haaahhh-AH…UGGHHH!”

London leered over his hostage as she moaned in frustration.

“Not until you tell us what we want to know. Are you going to cooperate?”

Brooke considered it for a moment. While it seemed ludicrous to surrender to such a bizarre form of torture, her nose burned with the need to sneeze. She felt like she could count each individual nerve in her nose, they were so irritated. The more she thought about it, the less she could stand it. Finally she nodded her head in agreement, desperate to get the itch out of her nose. Kendrick stepped up again and quickly induced her to sneeze using the feather.

“HAAATCHOOO!!! HAAH-CHOOOO! AHHH…AATCHHOOOO!!! Ahhh…haahhhhh…Uaaahhh…HWAAAAAAAHHH-CHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

If it weren’t for the cruiserweight’s deft reflexes, Brain Kendrick would’ve been hit head-on with the spray from Brooke’s immense sneezes. After making sure she was done, London approached her.

“Alright, now tell us what you know.”

“Carlito was behind it. He told me what he was going to do at the Swimsuit competition, and that in return for letting me know he wanted me to steal all the other diva’s clothes.”

“And you didn’t warn the others?”

“I was afraid what he’d do if he found out. And I did try to warn my friends, Kelly and Layla. But they’re such exhibitionists, they went ahead anyways. And now Kelly feels like she’s getting sick, I’m surprised she even showed up today.”

“Alright, that’s all we needed to know. You’re free to go.”

After Brooke left, London turned to Kendrick.

“I think we’d better wait on turning her in. Something tells me Carlito had another partner in crime. There’s no way he rigged the ring like that on his own. Let’s keep quiet about this for the time being, and see how things develop…”

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  • 4 weeks later...

Woo. Sorry this took so long. I've been busy. But now I'm not :D I promise the next one will be done by next weekend, at most. At any rate, I hope it was at least a little worth the wait!

Friday Night Smackdown!

“WHAT?!?”

Theodore Long, Smackdown’s General Manager, stopped in his tracks and turned on Chris Masters, who was escorting him to the women’s locker-room.

“Look, don’t blame me, I’m just the messenger. Kristal saying she ain’t going on tonight isn’t my fault.”

“Why can’t she, anyways? Is she sick like the rest of them?”

“No, it’s…”

As he opened the door, the two were met by a small, yapping white dog that was running around the room. Kristal, teary-eyed and red-nosed, was fleeing from the canine as though it was a hound straight out of hell itself.

“…that

“Huh-Shooo! Hutchoo! HATCHOO!!! Long! Get…Hux’sheew Hux’sheew HUHH-CHOOO!! Get her a Away from m-me!”

“She’s allergic to dogs.” Chris Masters offered.

“Oh, thank you so much. I’m not sure I could’ve put that together all on my own! Get that dog outta here! Where the hell is Torrie, anyways; that’s her dog, isn’t it?”

“Sh-she was huhhh…HUHH-CHOO! Here a minute ago, but she said she felt sick so she was going to leave. Her…Hehhh HEH-SHEEEW!!! Her mutt came back, though!”

“Well, I don’t care how bad her case of the sniffles is! After this stunt, she’s not getting a free pass! The Smackdown Diva division is now down to her and Michelle, and that Evening Gown match scheduled for tonight is going on as planned. Masters!”

The muscle-bound superstar stood at attention, holding the growling dog.

“I want you at ringside for the duration of the match. Someone is doing their very best to ruin our diva division, and I want you out there doing your very best to make sure they don’t succeed! You feel me, playa?”

“Don’t worry, sir. You won’t live to regret this!” Masters replied enthusiastically. As he strolled off, he dropped the dog, who immediately returned to chasing Kristal around the locker-room.

“AUGHHH! Hutchoo Hux’sheew Hux’sheew Hutcheew HUTCHOOOO!!!”

Long removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I oughtta bust open that boy’s head and look for candy.”

***

“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, though this next segment is more likely to appeal to the latter. I’m Michael Cole, here at ringside with John Bradshaw Layfield, and we’re awaiting the start of the first Evening Gown match this show has seen in some time.”

“That’s correct, Michael. And the fact that we’re seeing one now is in no way a reflection of this show’s ratings. It is not a desperate attempt to increase ratings, and it was not advertised over a week in advance for any similar reason. The WWE has plenty of viewers and how anyone could suggest otherwise is completely beyond me.”

For a moment, both announcers were silent. Then Cole spoke up.

“I think you may have overdone it a little there, partner.”

“Well, it sounded better in my head.” JBL responded, somewhat downcast. “Now, let’s turn our attention to the match, shall we? Michelle McCool’s already entered, sporting a light blue nightgown. And now Torrie Wilson’s coming down to the ring…”

“And it looks like she’s coming down with something else!”

“Wow, you must’ve been up all night rehearsing that one. Though I have to admit, she doesn’t seem to have the enthusiasm she normally does. In fact, she looks like she just got out of bed!”

“Well, that’s probably because she’s wearing a bathrobe. An odd choice for this particular type of match. For those of you unfamiliar with it, the objective is to remove the opponents gown and leave them stripped to their underwear in the middle of the ring!”

“And the contestants normally choose to wear gowns a little bit more glamorous. Really, I’d expect more from a Playboy cover girl!”

As Torrie entered the ring, where the cameras could get a better view of her, it became clear why Torrie was acting so uncharacteristically. She was holding several crumpled tissues in one hand that looked as though they’d been used multiple times, and in she had a box of them in the other. Her nose was bright red, and runny, and her cheeks were flushed pink. She looked absolutely miserable.

“I think Torrie may be doing the best she can, John. If you ask me, she isn’t in any shape to compete tonight, much less show off for the crowd!”

“Well, then she shouldn’t have gotten on Long’s bad side! Because while she might not be feeling ready for this match, her opponent Michelle certainly is!”

As soon as the referee had signaled for the match to start, Michelle moved towards Torrie slowly, cracking her knuckles. As she pulled back her arm to prepare for her first strike, however, Torrie raised a single finger, her mouth wide open and her eyes fluttering.

“Wai…wah…WAAACHEEEEW!!! Jus…Just let meeeeeEEH-CHOOO! Blow by dose…”

Michelle paused, more out of bewilderment than mercy, as Torrie blew her nose wetly into her handful of crumpled tissues. Then, without any warning, the sickly diva lunged at her opponent, shoving the tissues directly into her face as she tackled her to the ground.

“Oh my! That move’s not in the playbook!”

“You got that right, Michael. Looks like Torrie’s more ready for this match than we thought!”

The two divas struggled on the ground, and while Michelle fought valiantly, Torrie still ended up on top. However, just before she could remove the gown, a sudden tickle snuck up into her nose, and she paused for just a moment to try and repress it.

“Hehhhh…Heaaahhh…”

Feeling there was no way she was going to contain the sneeze, she preemptively lifted a hand to cover it, realizing too late this was a mistake. Michelle immediately took advantage and rolled over on top of Torrie. As she pulled back her fist to deliver a point-blank punch, Torrie thought of a last-ditch maneuver.

“HEEAAAA-CHEEEEW!!!”

“Whoa! Torrie just sneezed directly into Michelle’s face! What a low, and disgusting, blow!”

“It wasn’t a blow, Michael, it was a sneeze! And it worked, now, didn’t it? Michelle was in prime position to wrap this match up, but that move got her retreating as fast as she could!”

As Torrie used the ring ropes to help herself up, wiping her nose on her sleeve as she did so, Ashley quickly grabbed the few remaining tissues from the box Torrie had left in her corner on the opposite side of the ring. After using one to wipe a fair amount of spray from her face, she tore the rest of them into small pieces and tossed them aside. Torrie moved to stop her, but after seeing the look on Ashley’s face decided it wiser to remain on the defensive for the moment. Once she was done, Ashley charged with such ferocity that Torrie was clotheslined clear out of the ring.

“I’ve never seen that level of intensity from Ashley before! Looks like Torrie’s last move really made her mad!”

“I agree. I don’t think she cares much about winning this match anymore, Cole, I think she just wants to do as much damage as she possibly can.”

Torrie tentatively walked around the ring, searching for a way back in that wouldn’t get her pummeled by the berserk diva inside it. Then, she was suddenly hit with inspiration. She removed a stray strand of hair from her head and used it to tickle her own nose, quickly launching herself into a fit of sneezing.

“Heeehh….HIYAH-CHOOO! Echew, ehhhh…Echeew! Ehh-CHEAU! Haaah-Hashoo HATCHOO! Heeehhhh…Hee-Ahhhh-SHOOO!!!”

As she’d guessed, Michelle backed away, fearful of once again being sprayed in the face. This allowed Torrie to re-enter the ring safely. However, she still needed a plan to disrobe her opponent without getting mercilessly beaten in the process. Additionally, her last fit seemed to have a greater effect on her sinuses than she’d anticipated: her nose was running like a damn had burst and she felt as though she’d be overtaken by another fit if she so much as inhaled too deeply. There was no way she was going to be able to win this fight fairly. As Michelle ran back against the ring ropes to add momentum to her charge, Torrie decided she had only one hope. Ducking into Michelle’s tackle, the former playboy model collided with the former “Diva Search” winner and the two were once again rolling on the floor. As Michelle prepared to deliver her assault, however, Torrie grabbed the hem of her gown, took a deep breath, and blew a long, gurgling, honking blow onto it. The rival diva immediately leapt off her prey and threw her gown off herself. The referee called for an end to the match and moved to raise Torrie’s hand in victory, but she was already on her way out of the ring, sneezing her way up the entrance ramp.

“Wow. That has got to have been the strangest diva match I’ve ever seen.”

“I agree John. I can only imagine how Michelle must be feeling right now.”

“Well, what’s say we get someone to ask her? Kristal must’ve recovered by now, I’ll send word that we need her to do an interview ASAP…”

***

(Shortly afterward)

“Ms. McCool! Would you mind a quick interview?”

In a backstage hallway, Kristal ran after the blonde diva, who was still in nothing but her black lingerie. The diva turned, furious, but upon seeing it was the General Manager’s fiancé’, she struggled to regain her composure.

“Umm, I suppose. Quickly, though, I need to get changed, and it’s a bit drafty in here.”

“Of course. I’m sure we can all guess what you think of Torrie’s match tactics tonight. So the real question is, do you intend to exact revenge of some kind?”

“Of course I do! That bitch cheated me, humiliated me, and…and…Hah-ISSCHHH! Ha-SHHH! Heh-Chhhh-Chhhh HEH’TSCHHH!!! And she gave me her damn cold!”

After her outburst, Michelle McCool stormed off to the locker room.

“Wow. Looks like the diva gauntlet match this weekend at Summerslam is going to be even more heated than we’d anticipated!”

“No kidding, Michael. I can’t wait!”

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Nice update....but once again you seem to have trouble remembering what their names are. Michelle McCool somehow became Ashley halfway through the match, you also elluded to her winning the diva search, which Ashley did, but not Michelle. Who was it suppossed to be?

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It was meant to be Ashley, but then I remembered she was in China, so I changed it. Apparently not throughly. On that subject, this one's a day late because had I posted it on time, I would've had to post it after 1:00 am due to my ever-changing schedule. Since doing that has burned me twice now (see first and previous installments) I decided to wait until the next available time. Sorry. To make up for it, I may write an epilogue with Stacey Keibler getting interviewed again, if you guys would be interested.

Summerslam

“Alright, we’re going to keep things moving here at the Summerslam Pay-Per-View. It looks like my partner here has just been handed a note. What’s it say, John?”

“Well, Michael, maybe if you’d shut up for a minute I could tell you. Apparently, Raw’s Women’s Champion Candice Michelle hasn’t shown up for the Gauntlet match. Since the match is supposed to be for the title, it looks like it’s going to be cancelled!”

“You guys gotta get your notes quicker!” Jerry Lawler interjected. “I just got a note that says our champion is going to be substituted by none other than Stacey Keibler! And here she comes now!”

“Wow. It’s been too long since I last saw her walk down to the ring. Do any of you guys think there’s any chance she might re-sign with the WWE?”

“Who knows, Tazz? Now, it would appear as though her first opponent is going to be Torrie Wilson! After her, another four divas randomly selected from the WWE roster will be summoned to the ring every two minutes. Each diva must be eliminated by either pinfall or submission until only one remains to be crowned the new WWE women’s champion.”

“Don’t forget, JR, that since this is a cross-brand match, that means the title could end up moving from RAW and going to either Smackdown or ECW! We could be witnessing WWE history.”

“For once, my partner is absolutely right. However, that doesn’t make him any less annoying to listen to, so let’s turn our attention to the match. I hope Torrie intends to put on a better performance than last time…”

Unfortunately for JBL, Torrie appeared to be just as sick as before. She even had a brand new tissue box with her. As she entered the ring to face Stacey, she reared her head back in preparation for a sneeze.

“…aahhh…Ahhhhh…AAAHHHH-CHHNNNGGTTTT!!!”

Just as Torrie was about to blast a full-force sneeze directly into her opponent’s face, Stacey quickly but calmly grabbed her nose and pinched it shut. She then kicked Torrie’s legs out from under her and went for a pin.

“1…2...3!”

“Holy cow! That’s gotta be some kind of record. I’ve never seen someone go down that fast in all my years as a commentator!”

“Me neither, King! Looks like Ms. Keibler’s reflexes haven’t suffered at all from her time off.”

“They sure made Torrie, suffer, though. Look at her unloading into those tissues! She might use up the whole box at that rate.”

The stifled sneeze had stuffed up Torrie Wilson’s nose so badly that before leaving the ring she had to blow through nearly half her tissues to relieve the pressure enough for her to stand walk back up the ramp. She left them crumpled in a snotty pile in a corner of the ring, apparently absentmindedly.

“I’d like to take this time to remind everyone that Torrie wasn’t exactly in great shape for her match, and it isn’t too surprising she didn’t last long.”

“Hey, Cole, don’t forget that she won the last match that she was in!”

“Tazz, with all due respect, correcting Michael is my job now. Look, the next challenger is arriving! It’s Melina! And it looks like…oh no, don’t tell me…”

“It would seem as though that cold that’s been going around has gotten to her too! Though at least she doesn’t seem as bad off as Torrie.”

JR’s observation was right. Melina’s nostrils were only slightly pink-rimmed, not bright red like Torrie’s, and she was content to only occasionally sniffle rather than blow her nose constantly. After entering the ring in her signature fashion, Stacey folded her arms and called, “Are you done?” Melina cocked her head to one side, which Stacey apparently took to mean “yes”, since she immediately charged and tackled her into a corner, where she began slapping her ferociously. After a count to four, the referee forced her to let up, which Melina quickly took advantage of. She elbowed her in the back and tossed her full-force into the ring-ropes. As she prepared to grab Stacey on the rebound, however, a fierce tickle sprang on her nose.

“Huh-HUTCHEEW! Hutcheew Hup-Sheew Hup-Cheew! Huuuh-CHEEEW!”

The sudden sneezing had caused Melina to double over, putting her in a perfect position for Stacey to faceplant her onto the mat.

“Looks like Melina’s in worse shape that we thought. Thanks to that round of sneezing, Stacey has retaken control of this match and has Melina in a sleeper hold! Tazz, how long do you think Melina can last in that position?”

“Difficult to say, Joey, since neither competitor is exactly in top fighting condition. Melina would normally stand a pretty good chance of escaping, considering Stacey’s been out of the ring for so long. However, with that cold in her nose, she’s getting even move oxygen cut off from that sleeper than she normally would, so unless she gets out quick, Stacey’s going to pick up another win.”

As Melina struggled against Stacey’s surprisingly tight grip, mucous beginning to run freely over her lip without anything to stop it, a buzzer sounded to announce the addition of another diva into the ring.

“Two minutes are up! And here comes…Victoria! Hey, wasn’t she a friend of Melina’s when she was on RAW?”

Even as Joey Styles asked the question, Victoria hopped into the ring and began delivering kicks to Stacey’s exposed back, freeing Melina from her grip. Victoria then lifted Stacey up and shoved her into a near-by ring corner and signaled for Melina to take a turn. That’s when something caught her eye: the used tissues Torrie had left behind. After making sure Stacey wasn’t going to leave the corner for a while, she walked over to scoop them up and then turned and shoved them directly into Stacey’s face.

“What would you call that move, Cole? A modified Iron Claw?”

“Actually Tazz, I’d call it gross. This is not the kind of tactic a WWE diva should be employing.”

“Yeah, well, Victoria and Melina haven’t exactly been known for their fair fighting. Look, even now she’s holding Stacey still so Melina can go at her…I think. Wait, what’s she doing?”

The tickle that had almost cost Melina the match had returned, and this time Melina intended to use it to her advantage. She purposefully hitched her breath as exaggeratedly as she could, trying to pack as much power into the single sneeze she was about to deliver to Stacey’s face.

“Uh-Huhhhhh…Huuuuhhhhh…Huh-ah…HUUHHHHH…”

At the last moment, Stacey ducked down and slipped out of Victoria’s hold, putting her directly in the line of fire.

“HUP-SHEEEEEEEW!!!”

For a moment, Melina and Victoria stared at each other, completely silent. Then…

“Widow’s Peak! Victoria’s signature finishing move! That’s going to get her 1…2…3 count!”

“Looks like it’s going to give Stacey a three-count too, JR! No sooner than Victoria finished pinning Melina, than Stacey rolled up Victoria! The surprise maneuver got her another easy elimination!”

“I don’t think I’d call getting your ass whupped into a corner by Victoria and still picking up a win easy, King. I’m not sure Stacey’s going to last too much longer. Remember, this match was made with the intent that the Women’s Champion would be the one starting off. And Stacey’s never actually held the belt herself, come to think of it.”

“Quiet, you two, the next diva is about to enter. And it’s…Kelly Kelly of our own ECW!”

“Umm, not to be disrespectful, but…does she seem a little…under the weather, to you?”

“Ha-Chmph! Haah-Engkkt! Ahhh-Chmmphh Ah-Chnnkt Ahh-Chmmpf!”

As Kelly walked to the ring, she paused every few step to stifle a sneeze onto her arm and wipe at her nose. By the time she’d actually reached the ring, she’d rubbed her nose to a raw red, and her bare arms shimmered from all the spray they’d absorbed.

“I…I don’t understand it. She seemed fine last Tuesday!”

“Maybe so, Joey, but remember, she’s been sitting backstage in a room full of divas who are probably not so fine. It’s not too surprising she’s come down with something. I mean, look, even Stacey’s starting to look a little green. All this exertion with sick opponents can’t be healthy.”

“You could be right Tazz. If that’s the case, who has the advantage here?”

“Well, if I had to pick, I’d say…”

At that moment the timer for the next diva reached zero, and Beth Phoenix arrived and charged into the ring.

“Her. Definitely her.”

“Looks like Stacey could be in some real trouble now! Kelly Kelly took so long to get down to the ring that the next diva was called to join the fight! And it looks like she’s in better shape than either of her rivals!”

Michael Cole’s words rang true over the silence of the three diva’s eyeing each other, two of them sniffling fairly frequently. Then…

“ATCHEEWIE!”

“AHTCHOO!”

“HAH-ISCHHH”

All three sneezed at once. They paused to look at each other for a moment, just as stunned by the coincidence as everyone else in the arena.

“Um…is it too late to change my answer?”

“Hah-Tchnngk! Ah-Chmmph Eh-Chmphh Ehhh-CHNNNGKT!”

Kelly stifled her continuing sneezes into her hands, though this seemed to do little to stave off her fit. In fact, all it did other than get her hands messy was make her a target for the other two divas, who seemed to have recovered from their simultaneous sneezes. While Kelly was busy trying to regain control of her sinuses, Stacey sped forward and spin-kicked her, knocking her straight to Phoenix, who scooped her up and executed the muscle buster. Phoenix placed a single boot on her chest for the three-count, as Kelly lay unconscious on the mat, red nose overflowing onto her face.

“Kelly Just got hit with two finishing moves! I don’t believe it!”

“Believe it, JR! We’re down to the wire now! One of these two divas is going to come out of this the new WWE Wome’s Champion!”

“Hold it, hold it, HOLD IT! Stop this match, right now!”

“What the-? It’s the RAW general manager, William Regal! What’s he doing?”

“Well, my hearing’s not what it used to be, Joey, but I believe he’s stopping the match.”

“It has come to my attention that, since the WWE Women’s champion is not officially in this match, her title can not change hands. Therefore, I have no choice but to declare this match a No Contest. Furthermore…” Regal continued over loud boos from the audience, “Since Candice Michelle no-showed this Pay-Per-View without official permission, in the interest of fairness to the competitors here tonight, I am going to vacate the Women’s title until a proper method of selecting the new champion can be selected.”

“Is he serious? Is he really going to do this?”

“The rules are the rules, Michael. Regal is completely within his rights, here.”

Suddenly

“I don’t believe it, it’s Paul London and Brain Kendrick! What’s going on here?”

“Wait just one second, Regal. Me and my Partner have some news to announce. You see, we figured out who was behind the incidents on RAW last week along with Carlito and his coerced accomplice, Brooke. And we just had to get out here and let you know the second we figured it out. It was simple, really. Who could’ve given permission for him to have access to the ring before the arena opened? Who could’ve let him know about Maria’s interview before anyone else knew about it? And who else would want the diva division to suffer heavy losses? The same person who would vacate the Women’s championship right in the middle of a Pay-Per-View match…You, William Regal!”

“That’s…that’s insane! I’m just following the rules…what would I have against the divas?”

“I hold here, in my hand, official transcripts relating the ratings of the RAW show to it’s segments. Guess which one’s are rated the lowest? That’s right, anything involving the divas doing anything besides interviewing or stripping or…basically anything besides wrestling, is rock bottom. Not only that, but combined with the cost of training them, buying their outfits, and dedicating a portion of airtime to them every week, they’re draining cash as well as ratings! And nothing makes a general manager look more foolish that keeping something that pulls no profit in the limelight week after week.”

“Alright!” Regal admitted, flustered, “I admit it. I tried to handicap the diva division so badly that the board would have no choice but to cut them all loose. Can you blame me? Not even half of them have an ounce of skill in the ring! They’re an utter waste of space!”

“Not true.” Jerry Lawler had grabbed a microphone and walked up to the ramp during London’s accusation. “While the divas may not be entertaining to watch fight, there are two things they have that no other wrestler has. And while I’d love to tell you what they are, I hate to bring up the name of a rival company at an official WWE event. So, instead, I’ll let the audience clue you in. What do divas have that no male wrestler has, ladies and gentlemen?”

At once, the entire arena shouted, “T and A!”

“And don’t you forget it! Take him away, fellas!”

With that, Regal was dragged off the stage by the two cruiserweights, to the sound of raucous applause from the fans (well, the male ones, at least)

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