MANAGERIAL QUALITIES

SMACKDOWN! MARCH 22ND, 2001

Angel sat at a table in the catering area waiting, as she always did for Benoit to get the food. She’d been training with him for three days and was still alive. Actually, for what he’d taught he the only thing she might possibly have died of was boredom. They hadn’t been near a ring, with Benoit preferring to teach Angel the theory of all the holds he could think of, and he knew a whole lot of holds. Angel was glad she still had Blackman for weapons training because Benoit’s Wrestle Ed. 101 was quickly becoming the class from hell.

Angel sighed restlessly and waited for Benoit to return.

"Oh dude, that is so totally gonna rule!"

Angel’s ears pricked up. She knew that voice.

"Edge!"

He stepped up across the table from her and grinned his perfect grin. "Hey dudette. How are things…" He raised his eyebrows. "…Down under?"

Angel couldn’t help but smile back. "Not too bad. Hey, I wanted to congratulate you on becoming six time tag team champs."

"Six time former champs," Edge replied, his grin turning to a frown. "Those reekazoids the Dudleyz totally screwed us."

"Yeah," called another voice. "It totally reeked of we had them beat."

Angel peered over her shoulder. "Hey Christian."

Christian barely acknowledged her, he was so fired up about that topic. "And did you see their midget brother Spike? He’s totally a dork too. Big dorks so come in small packages."

"Dead dorks," growled a third voice, causing Angel to spin in the other direction. It was Edge and Christian’s bulky friend from Raw. He stood slightly hunched over and breathing heavily with his long stringy dark brown hair hanging in his face.

"Um, hi," Angel said nervously as he brought his face only an inch or so away from hers.

"Hi," he replied.

"Edge," Angel said evenly, trying not to lose her cool. "Who is this…um…I wanna say, person?"

"That’s Rhyno," Edge grinned. "He’s awesome, don’t you think?"

"I’m Rhyno," Rhyno repeated disjointedly, still right in Angel’s face. "Who are you?"

"I’m…um…I’m…" Angel couldn’t think with him panting in her face so she reached out to give him a little push backwards. Rhyno screamed like a wild bull and ran backwards, preparing to charge. Somehow, Edge leaped the table and got in the way with a spear of his own.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he cried as Christian helped him pull Rhyno back from a very scared Angel. "No, Rhyno, no."

Still breathing heavily, Rhyno turned to look at Edge.

"No," he repeated.

"That’s right," Edge said calmly. "We don’t attack her. She’s not a Dudley."

"No. Not a Dudley. Who is she?"

"She’s Angel," Edge explained. "She’s my friend."

Rhyno nodded rapidly. "Angel," he repeated, turning to face her again and offering his hand. "Angel…friend?"

Angel’s eyes were wide as she tentatively shook his hand. "Hi Rhyno. Pleased to meet you."

Rhyno broke into a broad, psychotic grin. "Hi."

"There we go," Edge smiled. "We’re all friends now. Okay, Rhyno. Let go now. Let go of her hand."

Rhyno finally released Angel’s hand and she wiggled the fingers to be sure they weren’t broken.

"Angel’s my friend too," he grinned at Edge.

"That’s right, she is. Christian, I think you so know what time it is." He reached into his jacket and handed his brother a small bottle of pills.

"Oh, that’s right," Christian agreed. "Come on, Rhyno. You wanna ‘Do The Dew’ or the ‘Choice of a totally New Generation’?"

"I have to go," Rhyno said to Angel. "I’ll see you."

Angel nodded weakly as Christian and Rhyno left. She could hear Christian talking.

"Dude, that spear thing is awesome. You see that guy over there carrying the tray of plates? You think you could spear him?"

"So?" Edge asked, spreading his arms as the sound of smashing glass filled the air (and for once didn’t signal the arrival of Stone Cold). "What do you think?"

Angel didn’t know quite what to say. "He’s…" she faltered. "He’s…"

"I know," Edge grinned. "He’s like the most B-R-utal thing ever. Anyway, Angel face. I heard you’re totally putting the X in Team eXtreme. As in ‘X-cuse me, I’d totally like to X-it and become an X-member’."

Angel nodded. "That’s true. They kicked me out."

Edge frowned. "Well, they’re a prime group of dorkburgers dripping with extra sucktitude. You don’t need those losers anyway."

Angel shrugged. "I’m over it."

Edge grinned. "Well, that is X-cellent. What are you doing with your brutally awesome self now?"

"I’m managing Chris Benoit."

Edge seemed surprised. "Well, that rules. He’s like the Crippler, the Rabid Wolverine, the Master of the Crossface, the…oh, listen, dudette, I gotta go. I think Rhyno’s so trying to kill that security guard. I’ll totally catch you later."

"Bye Edge," Angel smiled as he ran off.

She looked around the room. Still no Benoit. Maybe he was arguing with someone over the nutritional content of the vegetarian pasta. He could get obsessive like that.

Across the room from her, a guy was rifling through a trashcan. After a while he found what he was looking for – a half-empty package of potato chips. Grinning at his find, he turned and headed straight for Angel.

"Hey Angel," he said, offering her the chips. "Wanna Lay?"

It was all Angel could do to keep from laughing, but she had a persona to keep. "I’m on a strict diet. Sorry."

He shrugged and sat across from her. "Oh, and there’s no room on the menu for the new hardcore champion?"

Angel’s eyes widened. "You mean you beat him?"

"You even doubted me? Of course I beat him."

"Well," Angel shrugged. "I guess I am good luck."

"Yeah," he agreed. "I guess you are."

They lapsed into silence as he stared at her and she pretended not to notice.

"I’m serious, you know," he said at last. "I really think we should hang out. Get to know each other better."

"I’m sorry, Raven," she replied. "But I can’t do that."

"Why not?" he asked, quizzically shoving a fistful of chips into his mouth. "You don’t like me or something?"

"That’s not it at all," Angel shrugged.

"What then?" Raven asked, chewing between words.

"You see that guy over at the drinks table? The one with the tight black T-shirt and no neck?"

"Yeah, Benoit. What about him?"

"I belong to him."

"Serious?" Raven raised his pierced eyebrow. "What is he, your sugar daddy or something?"

Angel shook her head, her eyes locked on Raven’s. "No," she said silkily. "He’s my whipping boy."

Raven gulped. "Really?" he asked nervously.

Angel nodded slowly. "Uh huh. But watch out. Whenever he thinks I might set him free he gets really, really possessive."

"He does?"

"Oh yeah."

"Here," called a voice, as food was thrust in front of her.

Raven jumped a mile. "Argh!" he cried, leaping to his feet. "I’m sorry! I’m sorry!" He raced away, dropping the empty chip packet on the ground.

Benoit simply shrugged and sat in Raven’s chair. "You have to stop doing that."

"Why?" Angel asked, spearing a piece of broccoli with her fork. "It’s fun."

"It’s a great way to get your ass kicked."

Angel shrugged. "It won’t be me getting the ass kicking."

Benoit raised his eyebrows. "Meaning?"

"Plenty of men around here, Benoit. One of them’s gotta be willing to fight for me."

Benoit scoffed. "Princess, if you couldn’t convince Jeff Hardy, you’ll never convince anyone. He was obsessed with you."

"Don’t talk about Jeff," Angel scowled.

"Why not?" Benoit asked. "Because you still have feelings for him?"

Angel shrugged, sipping her water. "Maybe I do."

"No you don’t," Benoit accused. "You never did. He was a little toy, like Raven’s your new toy. You don’t care about them, you just want to play."

"You know nothing about what I want," Angel growled.

Benoit ignored her. "They say I’m heartless. They say I’m a robot. Well, you’re just the same, princess. Cold as ice."

Angel jumped to her feet. "I’m nothing like you! Nothing!"

"Sit your ass down!" Benoit snapped.

"Go to hell," Angel scowled.

"Sit down and eat your damn food."

"Make me."

"Is that what you want? Is that really what you want? Well, you listen to me, little girl. Look at me when I’m talking to you! I will force feed you every last bite until you get it through your head that you are going to eat it. If I have to, I’ll shove my fist down your throat and put it in your stomach directly if that’s what I have to do. Now sit down and eat your food!"

Glaring at him, Angel took a deep breath and sat. "Why do you make me eat all this anyway? I’m going to get fat."

"You’re going to get muscles," Benoit replied.

"Ha," Angel scoffed. "Maybe if we ever did anything in training I would."

"Patience, princess," Benoit said, his eyes cold and focused. "By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be wishing that every day was theory."

* * * *

"Commissioner Regal."

Regal looked up. "Oh, Angel, my dear girl. I’ve been expecting you. Tell me, how may I assist you today?"

Angel was focused. "Benoit wants the Rock."

Regal nodded. "After what Rock almost did to you on Raw, I don’t blame Benoit in the slightest. Some people simply have no right to be World Wrestling Federation Champion at all."

"That’s why I want Benoit to get a title shot."

"Of course, of course. But consider this for a moment. The Rock deserves to be taught a lesson. How dare he assume that he can launch indiscriminate attacks upon anyone he chooses, from yourself to Stone Cold Steve Austin without fear of repercussions? How dare he besmirch my authority as the WWF commissioner? That’s why tonight I will book him in a handicap match against your client Chris Benoit and Kurt Angle."

Angel’s face fell. "The same match as Monday?" she asked skeptically.

"Well, yes, but without the ever-delightful Chris Jericho, your side will be able to concentrate on purely defeating the Rock. Don’t fret about Jericho. I have big plans for that young man. My dear Miss Torres, if you were to choose any title in this organization to have as your own, which would it be?"

"Hardcore," Angel replied without hesitation.

Regal broke into a slow smile. "Of course. I do believe that Jericho would agree with you. Jericho versus Raven it is."

Angel was getting impatient. "About Benoit’s match…"

"By all means, go tell him. Benoit and Angle versus the Rock. You’re welcome, my dear girl, and may I wish you all the best."

Angel sighed, then nodded. No title match tonight. "Thank you, sir." With that, she left the room.

Regal broke into a grin. "Jericho and Raven. Now, why didn’t I think of that before?"

* * * *

"Angel, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you."

Angel turned to look into the blue eyes of a man who was not much taller than herself.

"Well, surprise," she deadpanned. "You found me."

Kurt Angle didn’t seem to hear her. "Now I’ve found you, be a good girl and go tell Benoit we’re teaming against the Rock and for real this time."

"I already knew that," Angel replied coolly.

"You did?" Kurt asked. "But the messenger only just told me. How did you find out so soon?"

"I made the match," Angel informed him, resisting the urge to add ‘dipshit’.

"Now, Angel, you don’t have to bend the truth like that. We both know Commissioner Regal made the match."

Angel held his gaze. "Who am I, Kurt?"

Kurt stared at her as though she was crazy. "You’re Angel, but seriously, if you don’t know…"

"That’s right," Angel cut him off with a superior smile. "And?"

"What do you mean ‘and’?"

"And who else am I?" Angel asked patiently.

"Um, you’re Chris Benoit’s manager."

Angel nodded slowly. "Two more questions. In the past two shows, how many main events have I caused to be booked including you and Benoit?" ‘Assuming you can count that high,’ she thought.

"Two."

"Yep, exactly. Last question. Do you know when I first became Benoit’s manager?" Kurt shook his head dumbly as Angel stared intently into his eyes. "Before Raw. This is my second show and my second main event."

Kurt’s eyes widened. "Really?"

Angel nodded seriously. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go help my client prepare for battle." She started off.

Kurt’s curiosity was too much. "Angel? Now I have a question. Why Benoit?"

Angel smiled, before turning back. "Simple, Kurt. I’m intelligent and I want to represent the best. Benoit’s the greatest technical wrestler in the WWF. I’ll see you in the ring, okay?"

She turned to leave again, knowing the effect her words would have on Kurt. The one thing that surprised her was that no one had tried it before.

* * * *

"I have two things to tell you," Angel announced as she entered the locker room.

Benoit stared at her and raised his eyebrows. "Tell me."

"You and Angle have Rock again in another handicap match."

"Main event?" Benoit asked.

"What else is there?" Angel smirked.

"And the other thing?" Benoit questioned, before she could start thinking he was impressed.

Angel turned serious and spoke with an ominous tone. "By the end of tonight, Angle will have screwed you over."

Benoit stared at her. "Cute, but I’m not stupid."

"Oh, this one I can promise," Angel smiled.

Benoit shook his head. "Kurt hates the Rock. Why would he choose this match to side with him?"

"Because you both have egos the size of Texas. Keeping you on the same page for one match was surprising. For two matches it’s an impossibility."

"Princess," Benoit said coolly. "I know you’d like nothing better than to see Kurt turn against me, but it won’t happen. I’ve never had a problem with Kurt in the past and I don’t see it starting tonight."

Angel shrugged. "Just don’t say I didn’t warn you."

* * * *

Angel was watching her old friends Right To Censor on the TV as Benoit bent over, putting on his boots and preparing for the match. Neither of them heard Kurt enter until he spoke.

"Chris."

Benoit raised his head slowly, rising up to look Kurt in the eye as Angel stepped next to Benoit and stared at Kurt inquisitively, her arms crossed. Benoit said nothing, challenging Kurt to speak.

When he did, he got fired up, talking about how great it had been to simultaneously apply their submission holds on the Rock and feeling him so close to breaking point. He suggested they try the same thing tonight, when Jericho wouldn’t be there to break the holds. As he left, Benoit formed his smirk and turned to Angel.

"I liked the part where he looked like he’d screw me over."

Angel frowned sarcastically. "As if he’d tell you."

Benoit nodded. "That’s why I don’t believe you. Even if you knew for sure, why would you tell me?"

"I’m your manager," Angel shrugged. "If you look bad, I look bad. I’m protecting my investment."

"Investment," Benoit repeated. "You listen to me, princess. The only thing on Kurt’s mind is destroying the Rock. And that’s a goal we both share. So why don’t you forget about what you think you know and concentrate on being my valet?"

Angel glared at him. "I’m not a child. And you are an idiot. When Kurt screws you, I’ll not only gloat, I’ll laugh my damn ass off."

"You do that, little girl. Because it’ll be a cold day in hell before that happens."

"Right, Satan," Angel smirked. "I knew I saw you wearing your winter coat. Now I know why."

* * * *

Angel paced up and down next to the ring as her opposite number Debra did the same on the other side. She was starting to think that maybe Kurt hadn’t taken the bait because, so far, he and Benoit were working as a single unit even better than they had on Raw.

Despite how it looked, she shrugged off her concerns. Kurt might not be smart, but he did have a healthy ego and that was where Angel had hit him. So she watched and waited for the inevitable.

What concerned her more than Kurt not playing ball was the fact that, despite Kurt and Benoit’s amazing teamwork, the Rock still seemed to have their measure.

Whenever Rock knocked Benoit down, Angel was there with her calls of "Get up! Get your ass up!" She even shouted at him when Rock threw him over the top rope and onto the ground.

"Fight back!" she shouted as the Rock bounced his head off the barricade. "Kick him! Bite him!"

"Get out the way, Angel," Kurt cried as he pushed past her from behind and headed for the Rock, who brought him down in a modified clothesline and turned back to Benoit.

"Elbow him in the stomach!" Angel shouted as Rock started to toss Benoit into the ring, but stopped when he heard the voice of his boss coming from the announce desk. With lightning speed, he spun around and hurled Benoit through the air, right onto Mr. McMahon.

"Whoa," Angel muttered with a smirk. "That was cool."

When she looked up, the Rock was staring at her, so she ran around the corner and Rock picked up Benoit and finally put him back in the ring.

"Get up, Benoit!" Angel shouted as Rock continued the punishment.

Finally, Angle caught Rock from behind, allowing Benoit to catch his breath and form the waistlock, which launched Rock into three German suplexes. Angel nodded to herself but said nothing – shouting was only for when he was losing.

Benoit hit an elbow, then tagged in Kurt, glad for the chance to recuperate in the corner.

"He owned you," Angel goaded. "You got lucky."

Benoit turned to glare at her. "You wanna try it?"

Angel held his gaze. "Yes."

Benoit rolled his eyes and turned back to the action. "Let’s go, Kurt."

Kurt bundled the Rock up in the far corner, and then it was the champion’s turn to fly from the ring. With Kurt in the ring distracting the ref, Benoit was on the case, but Angel was hot on his tail.

"No, Benoit, no!" she cried, grabbing at the folding chair as he picked it up.

Benoit turned and scowled at her. "Let go of the damn chair."

"No," Angel said, teeth clenched. She tried desperately to keep her grip, but Benoit was just too strong. He yanked it from her grasp, then continued his momentum, slamming it into the Rock’s face.

"You son of a bitch," Angel muttered.

"Here, princess," Benoit smirked, dropping the chair at her feet. "Take a seat." He returned to the Rock and tossed him back into the ring, where Angle was ready to mop up.

Angel scowled and kicked the chair under the ring. "Come on, Kurt," she muttered, leaning on the apron. "Prove that son of a bitch wrong."

A missile dropkick from the top turnbuckle and a long two count wasn’t what she had in mind, but it was what she got. Kurt then hit a powerslam and went up top for a moonsault, but just missed his target. Being a handicap match, it really didn’t matter who was legal, a fact Benoit took on board, jumping into the ring and powerslamming the Rock, before going for his own top turnbuckle move, the flying headbutt. It had the same result as the moonsault and now all three men were down.

Angel shook her head slowly. "High risk moves. When will they learn?"

The ref got to eight of a ten count before the Rock and Angle found their feet and Benoit rolled from the ring. Angel stood over him as he writhed in pain.

"You should have signaled."

Benoit looked up at her with wild eyes. "What?"

"You didn’t signal the headbutt. You should’ve."

"Shut up!" Benoit screamed, finding his feet and his way back to the corner, just in time for the tag. He hadn’t recovered enough as the Rock sent him into a clumsy but brutal belly to belly suplex and Kurt jumped in to bail him out.

Now the Rock battled two. DDT on Angle, spinebuster on Benoit and a two count which was broken by a kick from Angel, who then returned to the corner.

Rock was first up but Benoit was ready, bringing him down and locking on the crossface. It looked to be over, but suddenly Kurt jumped to the ground, gave Angel a long hard look and hooked the Rock’s foot over the rope. The ref spotted it and told Benoit to break the hold. Benoit was livid, arguing with the ref as Angle pulled the blind tag and pounced on a weakened Rock. Benoit had no choice but to return to the corner, still shouting at the ref as Angel shouted too.

"I told you he’d screw you over!"

Benoit spun to glare at her, just long enough for the Rock to race over and punch him in the face, pushing him off the apron and onto Angel.

Angel wriggled out from under him. "Get off me, you piece of crap. Get…"

Benoit cut her off as he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her back into the ring post.

"Stand in the damn corner and don’t say another word. You hear me? You hear me?"

Angel nodded, frantically gasping for air. Benoit slammed her into the post once more, then released her and she sank to the ground as he climbed back into his corner.

Meanwhile…

"Rock bottom! Rock bottom!"

The Rock hooked Angle’s leg, picking up the three count and the win.

Benoit was furious, leaping into the ring and attacking the Rock, only to have an Irish whip reversed into a spinebuster and then the sharpshooter.

Angel just leaned on the apron and said nothing as Benoit screamed and tried to tap out.

Kurt could’ve broken it, but instead he exited the ring, grinning over at Benoit and then at Angel. He backed up the ramp as three referees tried to break the sharpshooter and still the Rock refused.

Benoit tapped and tapped and was finally rescued when Mr. McMahon left the announce desk and entered the ring. Rock and Vince traded shouts as Benoit slowly crawled from the battle zone. A ref tried to separate the two, but Vince punched him and the Rock set up for the Rock bottom. Bam! The boss’s back hit the deck and Kurt Angle, ever the opportunist, sped back down the ramp to attack the Rock while his back was turned. Boom, a shove and the ankle lock was on.

Debra reacted differently to Angel. "What are you doing? Let go!"

Angel stood by Benoit’s fallen body. She showed no sympathy. "That’s what you get for attacking after the match."

Benoit glared at her and tried to find his feet. "Get your ass up the ramp. Move it!"

Shaking her head furiously, Angel started to leave. She stopped and turned back to Benoit. "Told you, Benoit. Kurt screwed you, just like I said."

Benoit’s eyes were wild. "What are you talking about?"

Angel smirked, hardly believing he still didn’t know. "Let’s stop by the production truck. I think there’s something you should see."