I had gone through probably the worst beating of my life.

Never had I gone through such excruciating pain or intense pressure. 

Pressure from all sides.  Beating down on me with reckless abandon.

Trying to crush my spirit, trying to break my will and my body.

Already that night I had endured more than I ever imagined.

Yet I emerged.

I was smashed,

    but not broken.

I was tested,

    but I arose.

I was pressed,

    but I fended off the minions, and embraced what Fate had in store.

Gold. 

My fantasies fulfilled. The Triumvirate:

Dominant and strong.  Now: the potentate of the BWWa.

SeX, New Age Entertainment, Larger than Life:

Humbled.  It was they who emerged

smashed

broken

 pressed.

And with all that was achieved. Of the new glory that had been bestowed upon us nobody was more pleased

than Marissah Whitely.

---

Scene I: Tuesday, April 13, 2004 - Trump International Hotel and Tower, New York City, NY

I had no desire to come crawling home past midnight after a four hour plus flight from Las Vegas, but my will was of course over ruled.

I fumbled for my keys slowly, still feeling lightheaded, and lo! managed to triumph in the quest for said keys of the door.

My quest for the bed was next on the list of my priorities, followed by sleep.  She had different plans however.

As I shuffled towards that large bastion of rest, she ran up from behind and jumped on me.

Clunk.

I landed face-forward on my bed, as every part of my body shook as if an earthquake struck.  I absorbed my yell internally as she laughed and turned me over, an enormous smile on her face.  In her arms

the BWWa Tag Team Championship, and the BWWa Silver Dollar Championship.

She cooed and cradled them as if her own.

"You kicked some major ass babe...even if you only had to beat one guy to win these, but you did a good job regardless.  So bravo."

Bravo? Bravo? That's ALL the accolade she could muster for my efforts!? Surely she was Queen of the Harpies.

Queen of the Harpies! QUEEN of the HARPIES! HERE'S YOUR CROWN, YOUR MAJESTY!

She punched me in the ribs...

...it might as well have come from the likes of Ripper Longshanks, considering my state of body...by Jove that hurt...

... as she laughed again and got up and walked to get a drink.

Still holding my titles.

"Those are mine," I whimpered.

She shook her head, coming back in with a small glass of port.

"Bitch bitch bitch."

I managed to lift my head, an eyebrow raised, looking straight at her.

"Yes, I know."

She gently flipped the proverbial bird and rolled her eyes, as she sat down next to me on the bed, placing the titles down next to her and crossing her legs

ever


so



slowly,

her skirt rising just above her knees.

I raised my head again so that my eyes could behold Perfection, as they glazed over and inspected every inch of those silken objects of desire.

She cast a glance from the side of her eyes.

"You were up for the challenge tonight, but you're sure as hell not going to be able to get up for me."  She placed a hand on my forehead and shoved me back down to reality.

Sigh.

"You should apologize for saying those nasty things to me.  Who's going to oh, lace your opponent's Power-Gator Sport Drink or whatever the fuck it is, or smash them with various ring appliances if I'm pouting and upset at you?"

Aww. This must be love.

"Oh my savage little ring devil. You do so corrupt me."

She leaned down over me, a hand on my chest, the other holding her glass of port.

Marissah drained the last of it, and licked the red remnants with the tip of her tongue, with such malicious delicacy as to drive me mad.

"Yes...I do."

We kissed.

---

Scene II: Sunday, May 9, 2004 - Trump International Hotel and Tower, New York City, NY

"The pay-per-view?"

"May 23...against those bastards from NPW I take it."

"Aye, I thought so.  Listen, we've got to talk more and soon...tell Jeff too.  Alright, thanks lad...cheers."

So then.

What do we have here.

Enormous Norman.  Jack Slade.  That buffoon of a German manager.  Soylent Green.

So this is what Fate has up its collective sleeve for the 23rd of May 2004.

The very constituents that constituted this grouping of how shall one say loosely, gentlemen,  were interesting.

Norman, from what I've read and seen, an impressive being beyond all accounts, with a somewhat twisted persona á la Comic Book Guy from Simpson's fame.

Slade on the other hand, as I resumed what I was doing prior to Seamus' call - namely dressing myself for an evening out - was a different le cup a la thé.

He appeared stark and dreary, a man who didn't take shit.  He may be the larger obstacle of the two, but by all means I am not about to take either man lightly.  Nor that manager of theirs.

Ah yes, that manager of theirs.  The hemorrhoid of the team.  He very well may choose to shove his nose into our business.  If he does, he'll pay with his limbs.

Hmm. Does this shirt go well with these pants...I suppose it'll do.

Besides, my savage little ring devil will be there to make sure he, and Slade and Norman stay well in line.

Hmm, this may be a very sweet evening.

I stand back and double check my appearance in front of the mirror.

What may be all the sweeter would be to humble NPW as it attempts to make its "triumphant" return to the CAL.  Pompous bastards.  It would seem that their attempts at independence proved to be naught perhaps, so they try to crawl back and take over the CAL whilst crawling.

Time to get going.

I head out the door and call for the lift.

Well they can keep crawling.  They're talented people, that is obvious without a doubt.  But the disobedient child must be taught a stern lesson.

And I know Seamus and myself will be intent on not sparing the rod.

The lift reached my floor, and in I stepped.

---

Scene III: Sunday, May 9, 2004 - the Blue Note, New York City, NY

"So what's involved in this, exactly," I queried Paulus. Paulus, husband of my best friend Aryanna, sat looking sheepish and knowingly.

It's been a while since I've been here to the Blue Note, but it was packed with jazz enthusiasts and sophisticates, much like myself.  I knew I adored this place for a reason. 

But I hardly expected a conversation of this magnitude or of this breadth.

Paulus, German by birth, shrugged with a grin.

"Just some well placed transactions of a discreet nature, I assure you.  We'd all stand to profit a great deal from this."

It sounded very tempting.  And I know I could depend on Robert to help with these so called well placed transactions through his corporate persona, Lancaster International.  Surely to Christ he's got connections in the Caribbean and Switzerland that could help us.

Still though...

"I don't know...but my sweetie could probably assist us with this."

"I'm sure he could," insisted Paulus.  "Surely he can deal with his assets as well as he can swing a chair."

We all laughed.

"Now now Paulus," chided Aryanna, "He might throw you through a table if you're not careful."

"What, with me wearing this suit?  He'd not dare.  But tell me Marissah, how do you show yourself in public without cringing from embarrassment."

"PAULUS."

I giggled gently.  "It's not that bad...I just lie if I have to, but I'm ever so proud of him...at least face-to-face I am.  Believe me babe I can tolerate people's snickering because of that fact that he's a fucking wrestler, with every Chanel watch and Hermes purse he buys me."

"Look out, here comes Sir Chairsalot now."

"Okay, but don't mention our little plan...I'll talk to him about it later."

I smirked as I stood up and kissed Robert gently.

"Babes, you got here...what took you so long."

"Sorry love, had a call to take before I came."

Robert smiled at Paulus and Aryanna.  They reciprocated politely as I introduced him to them.  We all settled in once more and ordered a bottle of St. Francis Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve, and chatted lightly and casually.  Then the talk turned to us.

I wanted to see how Robert would handle this.

"So Robert, what drew you to this sharp toothed little peacock," queried Paulus.

He chuckled.  "She may be a sharp toothed little peacock..."

"That's it no sex for you," I interjected.

"That's all right I have to do all the work anyway..." he retorted, resulting in my wide mouthed amazement and a smack.

"...but how can one withstand the charms and beauty of both a goddess and a devil."  He smiled gleefully at me, mockingly no doubt.

"Awww."

"And I do love a woman who corrupts me oh so very much. Isn't that so my sweet.  Don't you corrupt me."

Paulus and I exchanged knowing glances.

"Absolutely."