BLOOD BROTHER
SMACKDOWN! MARCH 29TH, 2001
Angel walked the halls of the Joe Louis Arena next to Benoit, both of them silent.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into a locker room. Benoit looked around, puzzled, then shrugged and continued on his way. She’d be back. She had to be.
* * * *
"Geez, Rhyno, you scared the crap out of me!" Angel cried as Rhyno released her.
He looked at her, his intense gaze showing worry and concern. "Edge says you’re mad at me. Are you mad at me?"
Feeling her body tense up, Angel shook her head slowly. "I’m not mad, Rhyno, I’m just sad."
"Sad?" Rhyno asked. "Sad, why?"
Angel took a deep breath. "You know that girl you speared on Monday night?"
"Gored," Rhyno cut in.
"What?"
"That’s what it’s called. A gore. I gored her. I took her down!"
"She’s my cousin, Rhyno," Angel informed him.
"Cousin?" Rhyno asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, cousin. She’s family."
"Family? Like Edge and Christian."
"Yeah, it was like that."
Rhyno nodded rapidly. "Okay. Okay. I understand. I’m sorry."
"I forgive you," Angel told him.
"No!" Rhyno cried. "Not yet! No!" He started smoothing his hair back and gathering it into a ponytail as Angel looked on, bewildered.
"Hit me!" Rhyno ordered, pointing at his eyebrow. "Hit me right here!"
"I’m not going to hit you, Rhyno."
"Hit me! Redemption! Now! Do it!" He grabbed her arm and guided it towards her head. "Go! Hit me!"
Angel sighed and swung slowly, not wanting to hurt him or her own hand. When she connected, Rhyno reeled back and grunted at her.
"Okay, again! Harder!"
"Rhyno…"
"Hit me!"
Crack! Angel’s fist connected with Rhyno’s eyebrow and he drew back, crying out animalistically.
"Yes!" he shouted. "Again!"
"Rhyno!" Angel cried worriedly.
"Again, again, again!" Rhyno ordered.
Crack! Angel hit him again and he panted rapidly, shaking his head crazily. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no! You’re not doing it right!"
"I don’t understand!" Angel wailed.
"Hit me hard!" Rhyno went racing around the locker room. "I hurt you so you hurt me. Do it! Do it!" He stopped and gathered up a baseball bat, then thrust it at Angel. "Here." He pointed at his eyebrow again. "Right here!"
Angel looked down at the bat in her hands. "No, I don’t want to hurt you."
"Here!" Rhyno insisted, tapping his eyebrow. "Right her. Hit me! Hurt me! Make me bleed! Do it! Do it now!"
Boom! The baseball bat cracked across Rhyno’s skull, instantly busting open his eyebrow. Rhyno roared in pain and shock as blood streamed down his face.
Transfixed with terror, Angel dropped the bat and stared at him openmouthed as he advanced on her. She took a few steps backwards and got ready to run, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a clumsy embrace.
"You see, Angel? You see? You made me bleed."
"I’m sorry!" Angel cried, now in true fear for her life. Rhyno was psychotic and incredibly strong – anything could happen.
"No!’ Rhyno shouted. "No! It’s good! You’re my friend, Angel, my friend. I will fight for you; I will bleed for you. Bleed! See?" He drew back and splashed his bleeding forehead with his fingers. "Blood! My blood! You did this."
"Oh God," Angel gasped. "I’m so sorry."
"No! I’m sorry! Me!"
Angel drew back as he raised his hands but, instead of attacking her, he dipped his fingers in his own blood. Next he reached out but Angel stepped away again.
"No," he told her. "I won’t hurt you. I won’t ever hurt you. Not now."
Finally, she didn’t move and he gently touched his fingers to her face, drawing a line of blood under each eye. "You’re my sister now. We’re family. Always. I’ll bleed for you, Angel."
Angel stared at him as he watched her insistently. His right eye was closed as the blood flowed over it and his breathing was loud and disjointed.
"Family," he said quietly.
"Family," Angel echoed with a slow nod of her head.
Suddenly, Rhyno began to stumble and Angel leaped over to help him. "We need to get you some help."
"Okay," Rhyno agreed, letting her lead him from the room.
* * * *
"What the hell happened to you?" Benoit demanded.
"Nothing," Angel replied innocently, knowing exactly how she looked, covered almost head to toe in Rhyno’s blood.
"Whose ass do I have to kick this time?" Benoit asked.
"No one’s."
"That’s not your blood?"
"No."
"And you’re not hurt?"
"No."
"Then get yourself cleaned up!" Benoit cried. He stepped over to his gym bag and pulled out his towel, then started unbuttoning his Wrestlemania jersey. "You can wear this tonight. Do you have another pair of pants?"
"No. These are black. You can’t see the blood."
Benoit nodded. "Now get your ass to the showers. Oh, and princess. Next time you want to walk in here looking like that, you’d better make damn sure it’s your own blood because I won’t be this nice again."
"I know you won’t," Angel replied, her tone both understanding and accusatory.
"Don’t come back here until you’ve got me a match with Angle!" Benoit called after her.
* * * *
Angel stood in front of the mirror, reapplying her makeup. She’d actually considered leaving Rhyno’s war paint on her face just to make herself look even more intimidating, but decided against it. She was about to go see William Regal and she had an idea for a match he was just going to love, so she needed him to take her seriously. Instead, she decided to make herself look hot.
When she was done, she left the women’s locker room and almost ran straight into Kurt Angle.
"Angel. There you are."
"Stalking me, Kurt?" Angel asked, walking past him.
Kurt stared at her incredulously. "No."
"My mistake." She gave him a conspiratorial grin.
"Oh, I get it. You were joking. That’s real funny, Angel. Real funny. Listen, have you thought any more about…you know?"
"Kurt, if it was up to me, you know whose corner I’d rather be in, considering our mutual friends and all."
"Well, I still think you should tell Benoit where he can go. But I can’t make your choice for you. I’d really like you in my corner at Wrestlemania, but I know you’ll at least be arriving with Benoit. That’s why I got you this." He handed her a plastic bag with something inside. "Wear it at Wrestlemania and we’ll show everyone, including mister 'thinks he’s the best wrestler' Chris Benoit whose side you’re on."
"Thanks, Kurt," Angel smiled. "I mean, I can’t promise anything, but…"
"I know," Kurt shrugged. "But can you imagine the look on Benoit’s face when he sees you? And then, while he’s distracted, I’ll break his damn ankle!"
Angel nodded, matching Kurt’s sadistic smile. "I guess I’ll see you at Wrestlemania."
"You will see me, Angel. Definitely."
Angel broke eye contact and headed off to Commissioner Regal’s office.
"My dear Miss Torres! How may I help you today?"
Angel’s answer was simple. "Benoit wants Angle."
"Of course, and so he shall have him, come Sunday at Wrestlemania."
Angel shook her head. "No. Benoit wants Angle tonight."
"Yes, I understand that," Regal replied. "But, quite simply, I can not do that. If the fans are willing to pay for the match, I can’t give it to them for free. Although, I could put Benoit and Angle on opposing sides of a tag match."
Angel nodded. "Now we’re talking."
"Now, let’s see here," Regal mused. "How about Benoit and the Undertaker against Angle and Triple H?"
"No, I don’t think so."
"Okay, perhaps Benoit and Kane against Angle and the Big Show?"
Angel frowned. "Getting better, but still not quite."
"Well, we don’t have infinite options, you know. Tell me, my dear, do you have any ideas?"
This was the moment Angel had been waiting for. "Actually, yes I do."
Regal was surprised. "Then for the love of God, talk, girl, talk!"
"Okay," Angel started. "It’s the Smackdown before Wrestlemania, right? We still want people to order it, so why do we just give them boring tag matches with each side representing two feuds which will culminate at the pay-per-view itself? Why don’t we give them an interesting match – a tag match, yes, but one where all four participants have a history with one another?"
Regal raised his eyebrows. "Go on."
"Who hates Chris Benoit right now more than anyone else?"
"Kurt Angle."
"Yes, and?"
"I’m not sure that I follow you."
"Eddie Guerrero and the Radicalz!" Angel cried triumphantly. "And who hates Angle?"
"Chris Benoit and…the Rock?"
Angel shook her head. "Remember a few weeks back when Angle broke Scotty 2 Hotty’s ankle? Other than Grandmaster Sexay, one man was willing to fight for revenge."
"You don’t mean Test?" Regal frowned.
"I do mean Test. And how about Eddie? Who hates him?"
"Well, Test, and Benoit, I’d assume."
Angel grinned. "Well, also Chris Jericho."
Regal waved it away. "Don’t you worry about the dear Mr. Jericho. I have big plans for that young man. So, tell me, who hates Test the most?"
Angel cringed. "Other than Eddie, probably you or Albert. That’s where my plan falls down. But, you see, Angle hates everyone, so it really doesn’t matter. Angle and Eddie versus Test and Benoit. There’s a whole lot of hate on each side and a whole lot of history. What do you say?"
Regal slowly broke into a grin. "Marvelous, simply bloody marvelous. My dear girl, that is an absolutely brilliant idea. I will sign the match at once."
"Great!" Angel cried.
"You know, Miss Torres, if you ever decide to leave your managerial role, I’m sure I could find you employment as my deputy."
Angel’s eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
"Of course I’m serious. But right now you should do and tell Mr. Benoit the good news so he can prepare for his match."
Angel nodded. "Thanks again, Commissioner Regal."
"Not a problem, my dear, not a problem."
* * * *
"You can thank me right now, okay?’ Angel announced, entering the locker room.
"Did you get me Angle?" Benoit demanded.
"I got you a tag match against the two people you share the biggest mutual hate with. Well, other than me, of course."
"Kurt and Eddie?" Benoit questioned.
"Exactly. Am I good, or what?"
Benoit ignored her. "You said it’s tag. Who’s my partner?"
Angel smiled at him. "He is six foot six. He is the WWF European Champion. He is Test."
"Test," Benoit repeated. "Test?"
"Yep, Test."
"You have to be kidding me," Benoit scowled.
"No, what’s wrong with Test? He’s like twice your size."
"But he’s Test," Benoit insisted.
"Yeah, and he’s a titleholder, which is more than you can say."
Benoit shook his head. "Test. Well, I suppose I don’t have to tag him."
"If you want to play that way," Angel shrugged, turning to the mirror. Her hair wasn’t quite cutting it today and needed a bit more oomph as it dried, so she pulled out her styling product and started touching it up.
"You play with your hair too much," Benoit announced.
"Least I’ve got hair," Angel murmured, separating clumps into smaller spikes.
"Have you ever considered just combing it and then leaving it alone?"
Angel broke into a smile. "Oh, that’s rich," she announced, turning to face him. "Why would I take hair advice from a guy with a crewcut who used to have a mullet?"
Benoit was dumbfounded. "How do you know about that?"
Angel smirked at him. "I know everything, Benoit. Or should I say ‘Pegasus Kid’?"
Benoit’s eyes were blazing. "But that was in…"
"Japan, I know," Angel smirked. "That’s still no excuse for that outfit."
Benoit was fuming now. "Kane wears a mask."
Angel shrugged. "Kane has a grotesquely disfigured face, or so the story goes. Hey, on second thoughts, maybe you should wear one again."
Benoit’s reply was drowned out by a ruckus in the hallway.
"What the hell is that noise?" Benoit demanded, racing to open the door. As soon as he did, Edge appeared, carrying a cake with blazing candles. Christian followed him with a present tucked under one arm and a kazoo in his mouth, playing the birthday song.
"Happy birthday, Angel face!" Edge cried, setting the cake down on a table.
Angel frowned. "Thanks, but it’s…"
"Don’t thank us yet," Edge cut in. "Just make a wish and blow out the candles. Do it quick before they all melt away."
Angel shrugged, leaned forward and blew. Edge applauded and Christian played his kazoo appreciatively as all the candles went out.
"Thanks, guys," Angel grinned. "But it’s really not…"
"Present time!" Edge announced. "Open your present, Angel."
Shrugging, Angel took the gift from Christian and unwrapped it. Inside was a yellow Edge and Christian basketball jersey, signed by both of them.
"Thanks, guys, this is great," she grinned, holding it up. "Hmm," she mused, moving her hands to the buttons of her baseball jersey. "I might even…"
"Don’t even think about it," Benoit snapped.
"I guess not," Angel shrugged. "Anyway, guys, what I was trying to say is…"
"Let them all eat cake!" Edge cried. He handed pieces to Angel and Christian. "Wolverine?" he asked Benoit.
"I don’t eat cake," Benoit replied darkly.
Edge looked devastated. "How can someone not like cake?"
"He’s not too fond of pie either," Angel announced. "Wow, this cake is great. What kind is it?"
Edge and Christian glanced at each other, then spoke in unison. "Angel food cake."
Angel laughed. "You guys. This is awesome!"
Christian grinned. "Were you surprised?"
"Definitely. Especially since it’s not my birthday."
"Oh, we know," Christian assured her. "We missed it. That’s why we totally had to make it up to you."
Angel smiled sympathetically. "I’m so sorry guys, because this really is incredible, but my birthday was in January. I didn’t even know you then. In fact, my present from my family was the trip to America that started this whole thing. So, you really didn’t miss my birthday."
Edge and Christian stared at each other with matching frowns.
"Told you it wasn’t her birthday!" Edge cried as they made their way to the door.
"Well, you’re the one who wanted to get her angel food cake."
"Hey, the cake is awesome," Edge told him, shutting the door after them.
Angel finished her piece of cake, then looked up to find that Benoit was staring at her expectantly.
"They’re my friends, not yours," she told him.
"I didn’t say anything," Benoit replied flatly.
"No, but you want to. I can tell."
"You’re right, I do want to. Test?"
Angel let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, I got you Angle and Eddie. I thought you’d like that."
"I do, but Test?"
Angel leaped across the room, turned the TV on, then returned to her seat.
"Smackdown hasn’t started yet," Benoit informed her.
"I don’t care. You’re pissing me off."
Benoit shrugged and sat down, ready to watch as well.
* * * *
"How the hell did Lita do this?" Angel wondered aloud. She was standing in front of the mirror, trying to tie Benoit’s Wrestlemania jersey so it showed her midriff.
When there was a knock at the door, Angel kept playing with her clothes. Benoit shook his head at her and went to answer it.
"Test," he said coolly.
"Hey Benoit," Test greeted him. Benoit stepped out of the way to let Test in.
"Cake," Test noted, picking up a chunk. "Cool."
He spun around and spotted Angel, who peered at Test in the mirror, then turned to face him.
"Well," Test smiled, his hazel eyes looking right through her. "Who’s this?"
"She’s my manager," Benoit informed him.
Test nodded, still looking Angel up and down. "I bet you’re real good at managing things," he said quietly, before offering his hand. "My name’s Test."
"I’m Angel," she replied, shaking his hand.
"Yes," Test nodded. "You certainly are."
They stared at each other for a moment, which was broken by Benoit.
"Test!"
"Yeah?" Test asked distractedly, turning his head at last.
"We have a match tonight," Benoit reminded him.
"Yeah, I know. We’ll kick some ass, don’t worry." He turned back to smile at Angel.
"Angle and Guerrero are no pushovers. We’ll need a strategy."
"Whatever you want is fine," Test told him, shaking his head at Angel before lowering his voice. "Is he always like this?"
"Always," Angel nodded.
"You poor little thing," Test consoled her. "You know, if you came and worked under me I’m sure I could find some things you could probably…manage."
"I’ll bet you could," Angel smiled.
"Test!" Benoit snapped.
"What?" Test asked, annoyed, as he swiveled his head towards Benoit.
"I thought you didn’t even like women anymore," Benoit challenged.
"Who the hell told you that?" Test demanded, rising to his full height and staring Benoit down. "Tell me! I’ll kill them!"
"No, what I mean is, after all that’s happened, you don’t trust women," Benoit replied, but without an ounce of fear.
"Oh," Test nodded. "You see, I got a theory on that. After what happened with Steph and Trish, I just don’t hang out with women with enhanced…assets anymore." He didn’t take his eyes off Angel.
"Stephanie has breast implants?" Angel asked.
Test smiled at her as though it was a secret only they shared. "The best money can buy."
"Wow," Angel mused. "Because they look real."
"They feel real too," Test assured her.
"Get out!" Benoit screamed suddenly, causing both Angel and Test to stare at him, wondering who he meant.
"Go wait in the hall!" Benoit ordered Angel.
She frowned. "But I didn’t do anything!"
"You’re a distraction. Go!"
"Fine," Angel sighed, leaving the room.
Test watched her go, then turned to Benoit with a confused frown. "Was I stepping on your toes just now? ‘Cause I’m sorry, but I didn’t get the vibe that you and her were…"
"Listen to me," Benoit hissed. "I want…to talk…about our match."
"Okay," Test nodded, grabbing another chunk of cake and sitting down. "So talk."
* * * *
Angel smiled as she stood against the wall. Test was cute and the eyebrow ring was pretty sexy. Sure, he was a little too tall and he came on way too strong, but a lot of guys did around here. He was definitely a good person to keep in mind, especially since Benoit obviously didn’t like him. She was gaining more and more options for her ‘Freedom Match’ as she’d dubbed it. There was Kurt Angle with his ‘Come be my manager, Angel’, Rhyno with his ‘I’ll fight for you, I’ll bleed for you’, and now Test with his ‘work under me and we’ll see what you can manage’. All of them were capable of beating Benoit. Angel just had to convince them to do it.
Still lost in thought, Angel peered down the hall and almost collapsed in shock at what she saw. It was Shane McMahon and he was headed right for her.
She smiled endearingly at him, just in case he decided to meet her gaze. To her surprise he did, and even smiled back. But that couldn’t prepare her for what he did next. He stopped. And spoke. To her.
"Hi there," he smiled. "You don’t happen to work here, do you?"
"Um, well, sort of," she faltered, hating herself.
"Sort of?" he asked, amused.
"Well, yeah. The WWF…they don’t own me, but I’m Chris Benoit’s manager."
"Really?’ Shane asked, truly sounding like he was interested. "That’s great. I’ve been in Benoit’s corner a few times myself. He’s one hell of a fighter, huh?"
"Yeah, he is," Angel nodded, spellbound that someone as important as Shane McMahon was talking to her of his own free will. Better yet, he’d even let his eyes wander from hers a couple of times. Shane McMahon was checking her out!
"I suppose I really should introduce myself," Shane smiled, offering his hand. "I’m Shane McMahon."
"I know who you are," Angel replied, shaking his hand breathlessly.
"Of course you do," Shane nodded. "It’s hard to stay anonymous when you’re the only son of Vincent K. McMahon."
His tone was ironic,
not pompous and Angel couldn’t help but smile back. "I didn’t catch your
name, though."
"My name? Angel Torres," she blurted.
"Angel," Shane mused. "Good name. I like it. So, you’re not a wrestler then, Angel?"
"I will be," Angel replied before explaining. "I'm in training."
"Training, huh?" Shane asked. "Chris Benoit’s coaching you?"
Angel nodded. "And Steve Blackman, too."
Shane cringed. "Blackman kicked my ass at Summerslam. It’s okay. I deserved it. Wow, so they’re pretty decent coaches."
"I know."
Shane nodded. "I don’t know if you heard, but I just acquired a little wrestling company called World Championship Wrestling."
"Congratulations," Angel said.
"Thank you. Anyway, when you think you’re ready for the big time, you should come have a match with us so we can see what you’ve got. If you’re good enough to have Benoit and Blackman believing in you, I definitely want to steal you away before my dad even knows what he’s missing." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, which he handed to Angel. "So, when you’re ready, give me a call, okay, Angel? Actually, I should take down your name so my assistants don’t give you any trouble. It’s been known to happen. Angel…what was it?"
"Torres."
"Right, Torres. Done." He snapped his little book closed and put it away. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Angel." He offered his hand again.
"You too," Angel breathed. "Thanks, Mr. McMahon."
Shane drew back with a frown. "Shane is fine," he informed her. "Mr. McMahon is my father’s name, and the less I have to share with him, the better."
‘Considering you already share the face and the voice,’ Angel thought, but what she said out loud was, "Thanks…Shane."
"Angel, it’s my pleasure." With that, he gave her one last smile and started his confident walk down the hallway.
Angel looked down at the card in her hand and all she could think was, ‘Whoa.’
"Was that Shane McMahon?"
Angel looked up and found she was face to face with Test. "Yeah," she nodded, still somewhat in a trance.
Test scoffed. "He’s still a wannabe loser. And to think I almost became his brother-in-law."
"You did?" Angel asked, still not thinking straight.
"I was engaged to Stephanie," Test informed her. "But trust me, Hunter’s welcome to her. I’m happily single. Which reminds me, after our match, you should come back to my locker room. I know all my muscles will be sore and I’ll need someone to help me rub in some of that cream. If you could ‘manage’ something like that, I’m sure I could make it worth your while."
Angel stared up at his intense bedroom eyes. "I don’t doubt it."
Test nodded appreciatively. "So, I’ll see you out there," he said, winking suggestively.
"Bye," Angel smiled, watching him leave before opening the door to the locker room. Benoit opened his mouth to speak but Angel cut him off.
"Before you say anything, he was hitting on me. I didn’t do anything."
"I know," Benoit scowled. "I just wish other people were as serious about this as I am."
"Don’t worry about it. It’s Kurt and Eddie. They’re tiny. I mean, I’m the same size as Eddie."
"It doesn’t mean a thing," Benoit snapped. "I didn’t want Test on my team anyway. You should go back to Regal and make it handicap."
"But they’ll kill you!" Angel cried.
Benoit shrugged. "At least I know I’ll give my all."
"Don’t worry about Test," Angel insisted. "He’ll do fine."
"You don’t know that."
"Yeah, I do," Angel smirked. "He wants to impress me so I’ll go back to his locker room afterwards and then, who knows?" She shrugged dramatically.
Benoit paused and gave her a strange look. "Maybe it is a worthwhile weapon after all," he said thoughtfully.
"What weapon?" Angel frowned.
"Sex."
"No thanks, you’re not my type," Angel quipped, before she really understood him. "Wait a minute. I don’t use sex as a weapon."
"Of course you do. All women do and if they don’t, they should."
"Oh, that’s nice," Angel announced.
"It’s the ‘screw or get screwed’ policy’," Benoit explained. "You use it all the time."
"I’m not a slut!" Angel cried.
"I never said you were. I’m just saying you flirt in order to get what you want."
"I do not!"
"Of course you do," Benoit smirked. "Do you want me to name names? Jeff Hardy, Dean Malenko, Test, Raven, and for all I know, William Regal, Edge, Christian…"
"Shut up!" Angel shouted.
Benoit’s smirk just increased. "It’s fun learning new things about ourselves, isn’t it?"
"Shut up!"
"Never try to play with me, little girl," Benoit advised. "Because I will always, always win."
* * * *
Angel and Benoit were waiting in the ring. Still pissed off, Angel refused to look at him and just paced out the ring.
"Test, Test, this is a Test."
Angel looked up at the ramp. Sure enough, her man was coming. He reached the ring and climbed in, not taking his eyes off Angel. She stepped up to greet him and he gripped her hand in a show of solidarity.
"Latino Heat!"
All three people in the ring turned to the stage with scowls on their faces. Eddie Guerrero was not the most popular man in town.
Eddie stopped at the bottom of the ramp and pointed into the ring. "Hey Test! I’m gonna kick your ass, essa!"
"You wanna come in here and try it?" Test shot back as Kurt Angle’s music started and he joined Eddie.
"And you too, my brother," Eddie yelled at Benoit. "I see you still got the puta keeping you busy, huh, essa?"
"What's the matter, Eddie?" Benoit called back. "You wanna come down here and say that? You wanna take shot?"
"Yeah, I wanna take a shot!" Eddie shouted. "I wanna take a shot at that European title ‘round pretty boy’s waist!"
"Here, can you look after this?" Test asked Angel, handing her his title belt. "I don’t want him getting his greasy hands anywhere near it."
Kurt and Eddie finally decided to enter the ring. It was time for Angel to leave.
"Good luck," she smiled at Test, before suddenly giving him a hug, then rolling from the ring.
Test peered down at her in surprise, then switched his focus to Eddie. "Come on, Guerrero! You, me, now!"
"Why don’t you come over and get me, huh?" Eddie called back. "Hey, essa goldilocks? You will never have this Latino Heat."
Test fumed and turned to Benoit. "I’m going first."
"The hell you are."
"Let’s go, Test!" Angel cried suddenly, clapping her hand on the Euro belt.
"I’m going first," Test said again.
"Whatever," Benoit scowled, climbing through the ropes.
Test started talking smack to Eddie and was surprised by a quick right hand from Kurt Angle. He forced Test into his own corner, then tagged in Eddie. Once again, Eddie had underestimated Test, who picked him up and dumped him on the canvas, before beckoning him to stand.
"Come on, little man! Come on, Guerrero!"
Test kept the momentum going with a huge powerbomb, but was stopped when Angel caught him from outside the ropes. Eddie pounced, softening Test up, before tagging in Kurt. This match-up was even, with Test going for the full nelson powerbomb, but Kurt reversed it with a low blow and twisted Test down for the ankle lock.
"Come on, Test!" Angel called, standing in front of him and beckoning him to reach the ropes. Test was about to tap but somehow made it, much to Angel’s delight.
"Yeah Test! Way to go!"
Angle released the hold and pointed over at Benoit. "See that? That’s what’ll happen to you at Wrestlemania, pal!" He then stepped back over to Test, formed the waistlock and sent him into a German suplex, then another, But when he tried for the third, Test reversed it and quickly gained the upper hand.
"Steal my move, bitch!" Benoit shouted. "That’s what you get!"
After a few Irish whips, Angle and Test took each other out with clotheslines and the shouting match began.
"Come on over here and tag me, Angle! Come on, essa!"
"Come on, Test! Come on!"
"Get up and tag Benoit, Test!" Angel chimed in. "Tag Benoit!"
Slap, slap, tag in Eddie, tag in Benoit. Benoit easily disposed of Eddie before going after Angle. Slap, a knife-edge chop across the chest and then he formed the waistlock.
"This is how it’s done," he sneered, sending Angle into a German suplex, then setting up for another, before being attacked by Eddie, who pinned his arms, allowing Kurt to attack. Test wound up for his big boot, but Angle anticipated it and ducked out of the way. Benoit’s eyes widened and he leaped away from Eddie, allowing Test’s boot to slam into his former teammate’s skull.
"Yeah, Test!" Angel screamed as Test stood over Eddie, talking smack. Kurt attacked him from behind, tossing him from the ring, only to be himself thrown by Benoit. Satisfied, Benoit nodded, watching Kurt as he backed through the ring. Bam! His back slammed into Eddie’s, they both spun around and the fight was on. Eddie tried to throw a punch, but Benoit caught his arm and brought him down, right into the crossface. Eddie tapped out, the match ended and Benoit did not release the hold. This time, Angel didn’t mind.
"Kill him!" she encouraged Benoit, actually applauding. "Kill that Latino shit!"
The ref tried to get Benoit to release the hold, but he wouldn’t until Angel dragged him off Eddie and applied the ankle lock. Benoit screamed and immediately tapped as Angel gripped Test’s title belt and dove into the ring. Finally, Angle released the hold and stood over Benoit, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"I’ll make you tap again at Wrestlemania, pal! And that time I won’t let go! I’ll break your damn ankle!"
He spun around to leave and his mouth dropped open. Angel stood in front of him, her face a mask of fury and intensity as she gripped the Euro belt tightly, ready to strike.
"Angel, I…"
"Shut up, Kurt!" Angel snapped, rearing back for a good shot. Kurt raised his hands to protect his face but at the last second, Angel stopped and slid the belt along the canvas. Keeping her eyes locked on Kurt, she slowly broke into a smile and held out her fists. Kurt’s look of fear changed to his sadistic grin as he brought his fists down on hers, then let her do the same to his.
"See you at Wrestlemania, Kurt," Angel said quietly, stepping out the way so he could leave.
Kurt smile and nodded at her, then switched his focus back to Benoit as he backed out of the ring and up the ramp, followed by Eddie.
Benoit was writhing in agony as Angel stepped past him and dove from the ring again. She reached out and grabbed Benoit’s left leg (the one that had been ankle locked) and began to pull him down to the floor.
"Let go! Let go!" Benoit screamed, trying to kick her away with his right leg and desperately grabbing at his ankle. "For God’s sake, let go!"
Angel released him and he crashed down onto the floor and his ankle.
"Argh!" he screamed, the pain overwhelming him. He stared at Angel with a crazed look. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, trying to gulp down his agony. "You and Angle! What was that?"
Angel took a step backwards but still stood over Benoit, staring down at him with a truly cold expression. "You might think you own me. You might think you control me. But you never will, not totally. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, I will always be two steps ahead of you. Always!"
She turned on her heel and started up the ramp.
"Later, Test," she called, stepping over where he had fallen and continuing on her way. She didn’t look back, didn’t even stop until she reached the trainer’s room, where she pushed the door open.
"You might want to check on Chris Benoit," she announced. "He’s down at ringside. I think he’s broken his ankle."
