QUEENSBERRY RULES

SMACKDOWN, APRIL 26TH, 2001

Angel was sick to death of Chris Jericho. Since they’d stayed in Denver, she’d been rock climbing every day and by Thursday had progressed to an intermediate wall. It was challenging and her arms and shoulders seriously felt like they were made of custard, but she put up with it because, while she was climbing, she could forget about Benoit, Jericho and everything that was bothering her and, well, just climb. It was only when her feet were on the ground that she had to deal with reality. And frankly, reality sucked.

When they were done with the rock climbing session, Jericho stuffed her full of junk food, simply because he found it incredibly amusing to see how much pleasure she got out of eating it. It obviously gave him some perverted, voyeuristic thrill, which made Angel completely sick. Just as the food was starting to.

Today she felt sluggish and weak and had almost hurled when Benoit suplexed her. Completely disgusted by her uncharacteristic lack of skills and intensity, Benoit had finished training early and she hadn’t even bothered to go find Blackman for weapons. She’d simply gone back to bed to nurse her aching gut.

As she lay in the fetal position, cursing Jericho and his damn Taco Bell, she began to wonder whether he’d been telling her the truth.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Benoit did put him up to this. To teach me a lesson about the evils of junk food. Well, consider me taught, you son of a bitch. Both of you Canadian bastards conspiring to take all the pleasure out of my life.’ She lightly slapped herself in the forehead. ‘Okay, now you’re getting paranoid. Forget the conspiracy theories.’

She had to use all her mind power to get away. William Regal. William freaking Regal. Tonight she’d ask him. He had the Duchess of Queensberry match with Jericho on Sunday but after that…he could take on Benoit as early as Raw. Angel could be free in four days. And then, finally, she could hang out with Edge, Christian and Rhyno again. She knew they wanted to stay out of her way because she was always with Benoit, but once that was done with it’d all be good. All she had to do was ask Regal tonight.

"If I’m still alive by then," she groaned, clutching her stomach again.

Only two hours later, Benoit was there, dragging her off to lunch. She was wearing pajamas. Neither of them cared.

Lunch was definitely not a pleasurable experience. As if fueled by her pain, it was almost as though he was force feeding her even more than usual. She knew he wouldn’t let her go anywhere until she was done eating, so she ate, everything on her plate, and felt sicker and sicker.

Benoit shot her a sideways glance as they headed back towards their suite. "What the hell’s the matter with you?"

"I’m just dandy," Angel muttered through clenched teeth.

Benoit slowly shook his head and kept walking. Suddenly, Angel went completely pale. She stared at Benoit with pleading eyes, wrenched the room key from his hand and sprinted up the hallway.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" she blurted, coming to a halt at the door. She frantically worked the key and threw the door open before leaping towards the bathroom. Seconds later, she was leaning over the toilet bowl, heaving for all she was worth.

Finally, when she was completely convinced that her stomach, intestines and several other vital internal organs were now residing in the toilet bowl, she actually began to feel some semblance of normality again.

Taking a few deep breaths, she flushed the toilet, picked herself up and rinsed her mouth at the sink. Trembling slightly, she picked up a hand towel and turned to leave, only to come face to face with Benoit. She gulped down a breath and glared deep into his eyes.

"Enjoy the show?"

Benoit was in no mood to play. "Did you get drunk last night?"

Angel let out a sigh and pushed past him. Surprisingly, he relented, but followed her with his eyes.

"We both know I was in my room all night."

Benoit walked behind her and stopped in her doorway, peering past her into the room.

"Do you have alcohol in there?" he asked skeptically.

Angel shook her head and began to shut the door in his face.

"I’m in no mood for your shit, Benoit," she scowled as he stopped the door and kept staring at her expectantly. "In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m sick."

Benoit stared at her expressionlessly. "Your immune system’s down. I’ll have to change your diet."

Angel knew what that meant. Anything with taste was going to be out.

"Terrific," she muttered, pushing at the door again. "Now, can you leave?"

Benoit caught the door again. "We should start weighing you at the gym," he said coolly. "You’re getting fat."

Angel was outraged. "Only because you make me eat so damn much."

"No," Benoit mused, completely immune to her anger. "It’s something else."

Angel tried once more to shut the door, then gave up and headed for her bed.

"Well, you figure it out, okay? I need to lie down."

She climbed under the covers and rolled over so she wouldn’t have to look at Benoit. He could stay in the doorway all day for all she cared.

"Hey," she called out. "Maybe Test got me knocked up. That’d explain why I puked my guts up before, wouldn’t it?"

Benoit slowly shook his head. "Jericho will be here soon. I suggest you get ready."

With that, he shut the door.

Angel rolled over again. "And I suggest you climb to the roof and throw your damn carcass off. Son of a bitch!"

* * * *

After somehow dragging herself up walls, Angel sat across from Jericho in Pizza Hut, stirring her Coke with a straw as a waitress took their order.

"What do you want, baby?" Jericho asked Angel.

"I’m good," she replied, not looking up.

"You sure?" Jericho asked teasingly.

Angel nodded. "I’m sure."

"Alright." He turned to the waitress. "Just get her some breadsticks with marinara sauce."

The waitress headed off.

"What’s the matter, baby?" Jericho asked. "You’ve been flat all day. Did you have a fight with Benoit?"

"I’m always fighting with Benoit," she murmured.

"Yep, ‘cause that’s how you trap a man, right?"

"Shut up," Angel scowled.

"Hey, it’s not my fault it’s not working for you," Jericho shrugged.

"Yeah, because he’s actually gay and he’s doing you," Angel smirked. "I was a fool to think I could turn him."

Jericho smiled back. "So you are up for it."

"Always," Angel sneered.

"Well, good. That should at least make this alliance interesting. If you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Roboto is not the most fascinating person alive."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Jerky, but we have no alliance."

"I know that. I was talking about me and Benoit."

"Of course you were," Angel smirked. "Tell me, Jericho? Who wears the pants? Who’s the woman?" She reached over and ran a lock of golden hair between her fingers. "That’d be you, wouldn’t it?"

Jericho gave a mocking smile and caught her wrist. He threw it down to the table. "That’s it. Keep churning them out. Just watch that well doesn’t run dry, though. ‘Cause, like I said, I’m not going anywhere."

Angel scowled and reached for her drink. "We’ll see, Jericho," she murmured, closing her lips over her straw. "We’ll see."

* * * *

"Hi Commissioner Regal."

"Miss Torres, hello, hello. Business as usual, I assume."

Angel shrugged. "You know what they want. Any plans?"

"Actually, yes," Regal smiled. "A Duchess of Queensberry tag match."

Angel frowned. "What is that exactly?"

Regal waggled his finger at her. "Now, now, my dear Miss Torres. I can’t tell you that, now, can I?"

"Of course not," Angel agreed. "Why not?"

"Because then you might let that toe rag Chris Jericho know and we can’t have that. I wish to inform him of the rules in due course. As commissioner, that is my right, is it not?"

"Of course, but come now, commissioner," Angel smiled meekly. "Why would I tell Jericho? I can’t stand the guy. I wanna hear how you’re gonna take him down."

"Yet another thing we have in common," Regal nodded. "Still, how can I be sure I can trust you with that information?"

"Because," Angel said quietly. "I need a favor."

"You do?"

"Remember you said if I needed help I should ask for it?" Angel threw her hands down to her sides. "Well, I need your help."

Regal blinked heavily. "Well then, I suppose you better come out with it."

"I’m all out of options," Angel confessed. "I need you to take on Benoit. To set me free."

"Fight Benoit?" Regal cried. "I can’t do that."

"Come on, of course you can. We’ll figure out some way of cheating…not that you need to cheat in order to beat him. But I’m begging you, please do this."

"I can’t," Regal said again. "I have this most important match with Chris Jericho at Backlash…"

"I know," Angel cut in. "I don’t mean to take away from that at all. It doesn’t have to be tonight. It can be on Raw, or even next week’s Smackdown, Heat, anything."

Regal scrunched his face up. "Miss Torres…"

"You said," Angel cut in urgently. "That if I got away from Benoit I could be your deputy commissioner. You said that!"

"I’m aware of what I said."

"Well, don’t you want that anymore?" Angel demanded. "’Cause I’m real good at making matches. Real good."

"I know you have talent in that regard but…"

"But what?" Angel asked. "Please. You’re my last hope."

Regal let out a big sigh. "I’ll tell you what, Miss Torres. Why don’t I trial you? Tonight, with exception of this Duchess of Queensberry match, the card is yours. You’re free to make the matches of your choice. If they meet with my approval…all of them, I might add, well, somewhere at my soonest convenience, I will fight Chris Benoit."

Angel blinked at him. "The card’s mine?"

"Well, if you’re to be my deputy, and both Mr. McMahon and myself are otherwise occupied, you would be in charge."

Angel nodded. "You’re right. Show me the roster. Let’s do this thing."

Regal handed over a clipboard full of names.

"Hmm," Angel mused. So many names, so many options. "Any constraints? Other than no pay per view matches?"

Regal nodded. "Just one. Mr. McMahon wants Steve Austin and Triple H to experience a tag match before they challenge for the titles."

"Tag team challenge," Angel nodded. "Acolytes?"

Regal looked shocked. "I don’t think you understand. Austin and Triple H must be given every opportunity to win at Backlash."

Angel nodded slowly. Suck up now. Avenge Lita another time. "Got ya. What are Lo Down doing lately?"

"I’m not sure. I believe they’ve been sent to Heartland or Ohio Valley."

"Right," Angel replied. "Next best thing. Kaientai."

"You’re making a main event out of Stone Cold Steve Austin and Triple H against Kaientai?" Regal cried.

Angel grinned. "Indeed."

Regal slowly broke into a smile. "Well, I bloody well love it! What next?"

Angel turned thoughtfully back to the list. Her eyes fell on the names of her friends. Edge and Christian.

‘Now, if I was them and I didn’t have a Pay Per View match yet, who would I want? A challenge, that’s for sure, but a winnable one.’ She looked over at Regal. "Handicap match. Edge and Christian versus Kane."

"Are you sure about that?" Regal frowned.

"Well, yeah. I mean, Kane’s normally as good as two men, but he does have that busted arm. I think it’d be a fair match and it’ll give Kane some practice against a tag team."

"You’re absolutely right. What else?"

Angel studied the list again. How about Rhyno? Who deserved that torture? Her eyes stopped on a particular name. Perfect.

"You know who I think’s been doing some good work lately and deserves a title shot?"

"Who?" Regal asked.

"Test," Angel grinned.

"Test? That miserable toe rag?"

Angel nodded confidently. "A hardcore title match."

Suddenly, Regal broke into a grin. "Miss Torres, I like the way you think. Test against Rhyno it is."

"Alright. How many more matches do we need?"

"Just one, I think."

"One." Angel thought long and hard. What she should do was choose two people she’d like to see tearing each other apart. And then she had the answer. "Another title match. Let’s make this thing worth watching. Eddie Guerrero versus Matt Hardy for the Euro title."

"You think Matt Hardy deserves a title shot?"

Angel smirked. "I think Matt Hardy deserves to face Eddie Guerrero."

Regal nodded slowly. "Yes, Miss Torres. I like the sound of that."

Angel handed back the clipboard. "So, that’s that, then?"

Regal nodded. "Indeed it is."

"And you approve?"

"I do."

"Great!" Angel cried. "So, when will you fight Benoit?"

"Patience, my dear girl, patience. I said I’d do it at my soonest convenience and I bloody well meant it."

"Okay, sorry for pushing." Angel backed off, trying not to roll her eyes. "How about those Duchess of Queensberry rules?"

"You swear you’ll keep your mouth closed?"

"If I tell, you don’t have to fight for me."

"Okay," Regal smiled. "I do believe you’re going to like this."

* * * *

"Okay, boys, listen up and listen good ‘cause I am only going to say this once."

Benoit and Jericho stopped what they were doing and stared at her expectantly.

"The two of you have a Duchess of Queensberry rules tag match against Angle and Regal."

"What the hell is that?" Benoit scowled.

"Great," Jericho smirked. "It’s about time Commissioner assclown decided to come clean with the rules of that thing."

Angel just stared at them enigmatically.

"What are the rules?" Benoit asked.

Angel frowned. "I thought you knew."

"Does it look like we know?" Jericho asked impatiently.

"Well," Angel sighed. "He didn’t tell me." She formed a meek smile. "I guess it’s meant to be a surprise."

"Bullshit," Benoit spat. "I think I’ll go pay our commissioner a little visit." He drew a hand across his throat and left the locker room.

Jericho turned to Angel. "He told you, didn’t he?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Jericho sighed. "Why do you do this, baby?"

"Why do I do what?"

"Purposely try to piss us off."

Angel shrugged, her eyes shining. "Because it’s fun."

Jericho slowly shook his head. "But surely you know what a dangerous game you're trying to play."

Angel shrugged again. "I’m safe."

"Oh, you think so?"

"No, Jerky, I know so."

Jericho swallowed his anger. "You’re unbelievable. You’re just begging for an ass kicking and that doesn’t worry you?"

"Nope," Angel replied.

"Well it should."

"Why, Jerky? Who’s gonna do it? You?"

"Maybe," Jericho glowered.

Angel grinned. "Nah. You wouldn’t."

"Care to try me?" Jericho’s eyes flashed dangerously.

"Geez, Jericho," Angel sighed, shaking out her shoulders. It was time for the heavy artillery. "You don’t have to get shitty with me just because Stephanie picked Triple H over you."

Jericho was gobsmacked.

"What?" he screamed.

Angel grinned evilly. "You see, you accusing me of being in love with Benoit got me thinking. Is that what you think love is? Pure, unadulterated hatred? So then I wondered, by that thinking, who do you love? Who do you hound mercilessly and try to take down, time and time again? And then I had the answer. The boss’s daughter."

"I am not in love with that two bit slut," Jericho hissed.

Angel smirked. "Not so much fun when the shoe’s on the other foot, is it?"

Jericho paced restlessly. "What’s the matter with you, baby? Why are you like this? You’re so bitter and vindictive all the damn time. You never let up whether it’s me, Benoit, whatever. You’ve always gotta play these little games and frankly they’re wearing pretty thin. When I met you with Jeff, both times you seemed to be a sweet girl, acting like one of the team. So, what happened, baby? What turned you into…into…that?"

"You can’t figure that out?" Angel asked disbelievingly.

"No, I can’t. So why don’t you enlighten me?"

"Five words, Jerky. I want to get away."

"Why?" Jericho asked.

"Why?" Angel repeated. "Isn’t it obvious?"

"No, it’s really not."

Angel sighed. "You, Jericho, should know better than anyone what it’s like to hate Benoit. To loathe him with every ounce of your being. I mean, is your memory really that short?"

"No, but he’s changed."

"No he hasn’t," Angel replied ominously.

"Yeah, he has. Since the Radicalz kicked him out, he’s been different. Almost tolerable."

Angel shook her head slowly. "He’s not different. I caused him to be kicked out of the Radicalz. And he’s the same son of a bitch he was then, a week before then, a month before then. Maybe you can’t see it, but I guarantee, he’s still the same guy."

"Even if that is true," Jericho said softly. "How about everything he’s done for you?"

"Everything he’s done for me?" Angel repeated incredulously.

"That’s right," Jericho nodded. "He feeds you, he houses you, he’s coached you so close to competitive level that even today you could probably beat half the women on the roster and a couple of the men too. He pays you crazy amounts of money for doing very, very little and still you act like a prize bitch? What’s the matter with you?"

Angel sighed. "You don’t understand. If anyone could understand what it’s like, I expected you would, but you just don’t understand."

"You’re right I don’t," Jericho agreed. "I’ve told you how things look from the outside, so why don’t you tell me now? What is so bad?"

Angel took a deep breath as tears pricked her eyes. She didn’t like being open with anyone, especially Jericho, but the words were ready to flow from her mouth and she knew she had to let them go.

"Since Benoit took control over me, I have lost everything. I came here to see my cousin and I stayed because I liked it and because I wanted revenge for something that happened to me. But now my cousin, who I worshipped when I was growing up, she pretends like I don’t exist. I’ve lost two boyfriends and countless friends. I’ve been beaten up – in the ring, out of the ring, in training. I am lonely. I am miserable. I’m in pain all the damn time and I just want to leave. But I can’t, because if I leave without winning my freedom, I can’t come back. Benoit would win. And no matter how much I hate my life, I’m stronger than that. So I stay. And I keep hoping and praying that someday I’ll get free. It’s all I have."

Jericho frowned down at her. "Let me get this straight. You blame Benoit for all of that?"

Angel peered up at him with tear-stained eyes, her expression serene. "No, Jericho. I blame you."

Jericho physically took a step back. "Me? What did I do?"

"It’s what you didn’t do," Angel replied softly. "You had the chance to save me, and you didn’t. All it would have taken was one stupid signature and I never would have had to make this deal with Benoit. You were Jeff’s friend, I was Jeff’s friend and yet you couldn’t even help out a friend of a friend? You gave your signature out for free at the Wendy's the other day. Why couldn’t you do the same for me?"

Jericho frowned. "I told you then I don’t…"

"You don’t do favors, right," Angel cut in bitterly. "We both know that’s bullshit. You and Benoit have been giving out countless favors for weeks now."

Jericho sighed. "I return favors. I don’t give them."

"Well, what favor did you want from me? A lap dance? I would have done it. I would have done anything. Jeff told me you’d sign. But you didn’t and that’s why I’m here. Because of you."

"Then your problem’s not with me," Jericho told her. "Your problem’s with Jeff."

"Leave Jeff out of this," Angel spat.

"You’re the one who brought him up."

"And you’re the one who’s in love with Stephanie!" Angel cried.

Jericho furiously grabbed her by the shoulders and stared deep into her eyes. "Do you want me to hit you?"

"Yes," Angel replied with certainty.

"What?" Jericho cried.

"I said, hit me. What’s the matter? Chicken?"

Jericho threw his hands to his sides and clenched his fists. "Why do you ask for trouble like this? What’s your problem?"

Angel stared at him, unable to mask her fear. "If you hit me, Benoit will kick your ass."

"Ha!" Jericho replied, looping a circle around the floor. "If I hit you, Benoit will take his ass and laugh it off."

Angel slowly shook her head. "Ironically, it’s the only thing I can count on. Benoit will keep his word. If you touch me, he will hurt you and then you will be bye-bye. So go on, hit me."

Jericho glared at her. "You’re full of shit."

Angel held his gaze. "Why don’t we test it out, huh? I think I hear him coming. Go on, Jerky. Hit me. I’m a big girl. I can take it."

Jericho clenched and unclenched his fists as he stared at her, deciding whether she deserved it enough, picking his spot as she taunted him.

Suddenly the door began to open and Angel grabbed Jericho and pulled him down onto the bench, kissing him for all she was worth.

Benoit's voice rang out. "Limey son of a bitch wouldn’t…what the hell is going on in here?"

He raced over, grabbed Jericho by the hair and dragged him away from Angel.

"What the hell’s the matter with you, Y2J? You don’t kiss the whore. She’s nothing and you don’t touch her. Do you hear me?" He released Jericho’s hair and shoved him to another corner of the room. "You don’t touch her."

"Sorry," Jericho scowled, reaching for the back of his head. "I don’t know what came over me."

He sneered over at Angel who was watching him with the same expression, both thinking they’d well and truly made their point.

Angel smirked at Jericho as Benoit explained that the commissioner hadn’t exactly been full of answers.

‘That’s what you get for saying I’m in love with Benoit,’ she gloated. ‘How dare you even suggest that. If I’m in love with anyone, it’s…’ She stopped her thoughts by squeezing her eyes shut. ‘Forget that. We’ve already well and truly proven he doesn’t give a crap about you. So get over it, already.’

She sighed and tried to focus on the task at hand. Jericho, Jericho, Jericho. He had to go. There was no doubt about it. Somehow, he had the ability to pull the truth from her and she hated that. If he existed around her, he might discover her plans before she implemented them.

"And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let that happen."

He had to go. He definitely had to go. And if that required pissing him off until he did snap and kick the crap out of her, that’s how it’d have to be. She’d survived an attack by the Radicalz – three men and a woman. Surely she’d survive Jericho. He seemed to have a problem with it, as though he couldn’t bring himself to hit a woman. Well, Angel would cure that. He’d done it before, he’d do it again. And then Benoit would, whether he liked it or not, have to seek revenge. The alliance would be over. And after that, Regal would beat him. Benoit would be alone. Angel would be free. She couldn’t wait.

* * * *

Benoit wrenched Angel’s arm almost out of its socket, dragging her away from her conversation with Regal. "Come on, bitch."

Angel sighed and followed him and Jericho up the ramp. Y2J in particular was in a bad mood, having been victim of both the Regal Stretch and the ankle lock simultaneously. Ordinarily, this would result in a disqualification but, as Angel had found out, the Duchess of Queensberry rules were anything but ordinary. For Jericho, the nightmare was just beginning. Just the thought of that made Angel smile. She took off ahead, preparing herself for what she was going to say to Jericho. She had some news for him, that was for sure. Suddenly, up ahead, she spotted her friends.

"Edge, Christian, hi!"

They broke into sinister smiles, which froze on their faces almost as soon as they’d appeared.

"Yeah, hi," Edge muttered, switching his gaze between Benoit and Jericho.

"So, you guys have got Kane in handicap. Good luck with that."

"Yeah, thanks," Christian replied. "Come on, dude. We totally gotta…you know, prepare."

"Totally," Edge agreed and the two of them started off.

"See you guys later," Angel called after them, but they didn’t turn back.

‘Wow,’ she thought. ‘They seem tense. I guess they’re worried about Kane. Not that they should be. With his busted arm, it should be a walk in the park. Some day I’ll tell them I made that match for them. They’ll thank me, for sure. But first, to get rid of these asswipes, one by one.’

She reached the locker room and stepped inside, then waited for Benoit and Jericho to collect their things for the showers.

"Before the two of you get all naked and cozy, I have an announcement to make."

Jericho and Benoit both glared at her. Desired result.

"I just thought I’d let you know that on Backlash, I’m gonna be William Regal’s valet."

"What?" cried both men.

"So, you can imagine I’ll be doing my best to help him win his Duchess of Queensberry match," Angel went on, taking particular delight in Benoit’s expression. "Come on, you know it’s within the rules. You made the rule, remember? I only can’t valet for someone…"

"I know what I said," Benoit scowled.

"Well then," Angel grinned. "That’s that. Enjoy your romantic shower and Jerky, I guess I’ll see you Sunday."

She smiled as they left. She’d be wearing it from Benoit in training, but it was all good. Once Jericho saw exactly how far she was willing to go in order to get rid of him, he’d tell Benoit that their alliance just wasn’t worth it. And then he’d be gone. True, she hadn’t even asked Regal if he wanted a valet, but why wouldn’t he? She was doing it for free and she was personally prepared to see to it that he won. Not that he needed any help with his Duchess of Queensberry rules. They were a stroke of brilliance. Jericho wouldn’t even know what hit him.

Her thoughts were stopped when Benoit returned from the shower, shooting her a deadly glare as he stepped over to collect his things.

She quickly followed suit and trailed him to the door.

"You owe me a punching bag," she said to the back of his head. "I got you Angle and Regal again."

"Fine," Benoit muttered, without turning around.

Angel grinned. How sweet of him to be pissed off on behalf of his friend. Or maybe it was because she’d one-upped him again. He was seriously trailing behind. But then she remembered the food incident of that very morning. Still, at worst, they were even.

They walked in silence until they reached the rental car and Benoit pulled out of the parking lot.

"You know, don’t you?" he asked quietly.

"What?" Angel frowned.

"The rules. Regal told you."

Angel grinned to herself. "Now, why would he do that?"

"Tell me," Benoit growled.

"Seriously, Benoit. Even if I did know, why would I tell you?"

"Tell me," Benoit said again.

Angel paused, just long enough so he wouldn’t know whether or not she was telling the truth. It would have worked a whole lot better if he could have seen her face.

"There are no rules," she said at last.

"Excuse me?"

"Regal’s gonna make it up as he goes along, change the rules as it suits him so he wins."

"Is that the truth?" Benoit demanded and she knew she’d succeeded.

"Sure it’s true," she replied quickly, implanting even more doubt. "But tell me, do you really think we should tell Jericho? He still thinks he has a chance. Do we really want to ruin it for him? In reality, he hasn’t a hope."

"You’re a bitch," Benoit scowled.

"Yeah, I know. But I didn’t make the rules. Regal did." She paused for a moment. "You know, I really don’t know what I’m going to enjoy more this Sunday. You and Kurt killing each other over thirty minutes to decide once and for all who the biggest, whiniest, most submissive bitch really is, or Regal, destroying Jericho in the match from hell. One thing’s for sure. Backlash is gonna be one amazing night."