<center><img src="http://www.twistedexperience.com/tcw/pics/posters/havocitaly/strikmorehardydrakus.png">


"Strikmore is the rookie sensation, loved by the media for his rise to prominence. David Hardy knows what that was like, when he burst on the scene as part of the RoXorZ he got just as much media attention (and still does especially in the girl demographics). Will David Hardy stop the Rookie Sensation? Well why don't you tune into Havoc to find out? And just how in the name of Belzebub's ballsac did Drakus land the position of Guest referee? Will he impartially hate both participants equally or will he hate one more and for some reason aid a guy he can't stand... wait my head just exploded."</center>

*Layer by layer, Matt unwraps the tape on his wrist, a trail leading to a pile on the floor. He's unwrapping the same hand that got raised in victory just a few minutes ago, but it just doesn't feel right. His hands feel heavy, like it was forced to be raised up. It doesn't make sense. People call him a golden boy, or a media favorite, but that's just talk. It doesn't impact what happens in the ring. Right? Right. That's got to be right. He yanks off the remaining tape, and tosses the wad towards a trashcan. He closes his eyes, trying to find that spot that makes everything ok, but it keeps avoiding him. All he can find is a throbbing deep in his head. Guilt? Uncertainty? Remorse? He buries his face in his hands, trying to sort it all out. He just wants something else to concentrate on, anything but the decision of the match. The movie he saw last night. Trying to remember the kid that sat two seats behind him in first grade. Anything. He closes his eyes tight, and notices that his right eye is starting to swell up. Was that from one of Hammer's? Drakus'? It's something to think about it. It's anything.*

*Matt drags his hand-me-down luggage behind him as he leaves through the staff exit of the arena. He sees a couple of the guys taking off in their rental cars, bound for the airport. It's the most normal thing in the world. In a world full of demons, demon hunters, excentric millionaires, and whatever else he hasn't come across yet, at least the simple normalcy of getting to the airport is the same. No one teleports or hops in a hovercar or anything like that. They grab their bags, toss them in the truck, and make their way to the next show. Being honest with himself, this is his favorite part of being on the road. Just simple waves and nods to each other, tired from the show, and trudging on to the next stop. Matt's in the process of flagging down a taxi when someone runs up behind him.*

Assistant: Mr. Strikmore!

Matt: My dad around?

Assistant: Sir, I'm glad I caught you. Ms. Stern wants the fixtures handed out immediately after the show this week. Too much rebooking this week.

Matt: It's just Matt, ok?

Assistant: Sir?

Matt: Just Matt. You're not the ring announcer, so no need to go with the last name.

Assistant: Oh. Sure, Matt.

*Matt grabs the envelope, and reaches to shake the guy's hand. He looks confused for a second, before taking Matt's hand.*

Matt: Thanks alot....

Assistant: Me? Oh. Tom.

Matt: Thanks alot, Tom. Have a good trip.

Tom: You too, si-- Matt.

Matt: There ya go.

*Tom walks away as Matt tosses his bags in the trunk of the taxi. He slips in the back, and the driver takes off. Matt flips the envelope over and over in his hands, trying to look out the window but always being drawn back to his hands. He finally exhales loudly in surrender, and tears open the letter.*

Matt: Matt Strikmore versus... David Hardy. Cool! Just a straight up match. And I already know Hardy, at least well enough to know he's not some psycho murderer with a distaste for me.

*Matt slides the letter out of the envelope a little more.*

Matt: Special referee... Drakus! C'mon!!! How's that remotely possible?!

*Matt rolls down the window and throws the crumpled letter out into the night air. The taxi arrives at the terminal, and Matt deals with the driver a little more tersly than he meant to be. He hauls his bags behind him and starts the search for his gate.*

Matt: Terminal D. Gate 42. Terminal D. Gate 42.

*As his head swivels all around in his search for the plane, he sees someone out of the corner of his eye. Even with all these people around, it's not surprising his eyes lock on target. In a sea of stuff and people he can't recognize, anything familiar stands out.*

Matt: Hardy?

*David Hardy looks around, thinking he heard his name from among the masses. He takes a sip of his Pepsi, giving the crowd one last lookover. Shrugging his shoulders, he reaches for the door handle on the VIP lounge.*

Matt: Hardy!

*David whips his head around, trying to get a fix on the sound before it fades away. He sees an arm shoot up from the swarm, and Matt's head bobbing up and down. He smirks as Matt tries to wade across the traffic. David leans back against the door, hand resting on the handle, while Matt makes his way.*

Matt: Thought that was you!

David: So it is. How ya been?

Matt: Not too bad, considering it looks like a pitbull used my neck as a chew toy.

*Matt pulls down his hoodie, showing several layers of gauze and slowly healing puncture wounds. Hardy winces, and reflexively opens and closes his fist.*

David: Nasty. Drakus?

Matt: Drakus.

David: Congrats, by the way. Big few weeks you had.

Matt: Yeah, yeah. Just can't get away from some things though.

David: I guess you've seen the fixtures than.

Matt: Yeah, about five seconds before I tossed them out the window. Seriously, referee?

David: Yeah. Whatever this turns out to be, it's going to be nuts. So when's your flight?

Matt: Forty minutes, I think. For the life of me I can't find my gate though. Gate 42.

*David streches his neck for a second, before nodding off to the right.*

David: Back there. Second on the right?

*Matt looks over the crowd, and can't help but feel stupid when he sees it. So close. He always ends up looking like an idiot when he meets his next opponent.*

Matt: I already know who I'm sitting next to.

David: Drakus?

Matt: Hells no!

*David smirks and takes another sip of his drink.*

Matt: See that couple over there, sitting right by the gate? Fat, angry woman and the little dude that looks like an accountant?

David: Yeah.

Matt: Them. It's always them, or another version of them. Consistant as gravity, I sit right between them. She pisses and moans about everything, so when he gets told to buy tickets, he "accidentally" doesn't get seats right next to each other. She'll yell at him for it, but it's not like that's new. And I end up right in the middle. Every friggen time.

David: Charmed life, man.

Matt: Tell me about it. How about you? What gate are you at?

David: Already here.

*David points up, and Matt sees the letters VIP above the door. He looks down at Hardy's hand, and sees the same ring that DeSean wore.*

Matt: That ring comes in handy.

David: More than you know.

Matt: Well, they're probably boarding, so I gotta jet. Glad to run into you. It's nice to have a civil converstation. Catch you wherever the hell we're going this week.

*As Matt tries to wedge himself toward the gate, he can't help replay over and over something David said.*

Matt: Charmed life, man. Charmed life.

*And his hands feel lighter.*

Matt Strikmore shoved and wiggled his way down the narrow aisle between the seats on the aircraft. People stuffing their oversized european carry-alls into the overhead compartment moaned and scowled at him, mostly cursing stuff in french at him. The flight had already been delayed a few hours for a number of reasons and everyone was justifiably bitter about it, especially Strikmore, who was hoping another painful planeride would have been over by now. The first delay was due to some sudden accomodation changes between passengers, apparently some big american celebs decided to trade seats with normal folk on the flight, which caused a big, slow cafuffle. Not long after that, just when they were boarding, someone mentioned the word "bomb" and caused another ruckus. After a few hours of baggage searching, they finally boarded the plane and were getting ready to pull the hell out of France.

With an exhausted breath, Matt finally found his seat. As usual, it was the middle one, but to his surprise and delight, there were no fat ladies or little spineless guys, but instead was an attractive woman sitting by the window. He didn't want to come across as a perv, so he did not stare, but her fiery red hair seemed to illuminate the otherwise darkened area. Something about her seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. She seemed to be scribbling something down into a diary or journal of some sort and had apparently already gone through one of those little bottles of alcohol they sell for an arm and a leg.

Matt couldn't help himself but to say at least a friendly "hello."

She glanced up at him and nodded before continuing to write in her little book.

Matt shrugged and moved into his seat, bending over to slide his carry-on bag under the seat infront of him. When he sat back up, he noticed she was wearing a David Hardy T-shirt.

"Oh, David Hardy, nice shirt," Matt said as he settled into his seat.

"Mmmhmm..." she mumbled.

She brushed her long hair behind her ear and Matt finally got a good look at her. He then suddenly recognized her.

"Say..." Matt said, hoping he wasn't being too annoying, "are you Lita?"

She finally looked Matt in the eye, "are you always so nosey?"

Matt blinked and was momentarily stunned by her words.

He cleared his throat, "My apologees, I didn't mean to intrude."

Lita shook her head, "No, I'm sorry, I'm just a big frustrated with my... friend. First he took us off a luxury plane and onto this one, they he delayed the plane from takeoff for a few hours..."

Matt nodded his head, "I feel you. Say, what are you doing in this part of the world anyway?"

Matt really wasn't quite sure what to talk to her about, though he did wanna see who the bonehead was that delayed the flight a few times was.

Lita shrugged, "Just tagging along with my friend as he tours the world, I guess... Though if things continue how they've been the last few weeks, I'd be more than willing to go back home."

"Bad trip, I take it?" Matt asked.

"Between being attacked by a giant hitman, being nearly set on fire, getting stuck in a two person submarine with 6 other people after a cruise ship exploded, and him having weird flashbacks and temporary moments of insanity..." Lita said, "well I guess other than that, it's been decent."

"Jesus!" Strikmore nearly fell out of his chair, "are you sure you're travelling with the right dude? Seems like a big of a trouble magnet..."

Lita shrugged and looked out the window towards the runway lights, nightfall had been around them for several hours now.

"Well... " Lita smiled softly, "he's always been there to protect me so I guess it's not too bad."

Matt nodded slowly, "well hopefully he won't bring this plane down."

"Nah, I got that out of the way before we even took off!"

Lita looked up and poorly held back a grin before burying her face into the book. Matt turned and looked at the man sitting next to him now.

"What's up buuuuuuuuddy?" David Hardy smirked.

********************************

The 747 flew through the nightsky without a single bump. Inside, most of the lights were turned off and the majority of the people on board were asleep. It looked like Lita was about to join that group shortly, as David and Matt's conversations mostly bored her to the point where she was repeatedly nodding off.

"You know," Matt said, "you must be nuts to trade VIP tickets on a first class jet to sit here."

Hardy shrugged, "Dude, I can fly first class whenever I want to. I wanted to get back to something like this. I haven't flown in coach since I was a rookie in the fed, which was over two years ago."

Matt smiled and shook his head, "you work so hard to get so far, just to come back?"

Hardy shook his head, "beautiful material can only last so long before the diamonds turn to dust. I figure I'd at least try and get a head start on that."

Matt laughed softly, "so you decided to hijack my flight and make me wait around in an airport for a few hours?"

"Hey!" Hardy chuckled, "all I did was mention how I thought John Cena's movie was going to B-O-M-B, and everyone went apeshit on me! You should be happy that you got to sit down while waiting, meanwhile I was being felt up by Rikishi's sister!"

"There's a lovely thought," Matt rolled his eyes, "well I must say having you here is much more enjoyable than the usual. Speaking of which, where are the people that were supposed to sit here?"

Elsewhere...

A fat lady and a scrawny man sit on either side of french actor Jean Reno in their first class seats. The lady waves her arms about.

"Why couldn't you get our seats together!?" she yelled at the man, presumably her husband.

"I didn't have a choice, that canadian guy just traded his seats for ours!" he whimpered.

She continued her attack, "And that caused us to be delayed as well! You know I hate waiting for a long time, especially after bean and jalapeno chimichangas!"

He shot back, "But dear, these are are first class on a luxury jet! We'd normally have to pay thousands of bucks for these! Can't you just appreciate that?"

"I'll appreciate when you actually ask my opinion on things instead of using your stupid little head!" she snarled.

"Why can't you just relax and enjoy what we got just this once?" he pointed at her.

Jean Reno finally snapped, "Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!!"

Back to our heroes...

Hardy shrugged, "I have no idea what those people are doing, probably enjoying all the room and service."

"Probably," Matt agreed, "y'know, you seem like a pretty nice guy compared to what's generally spoken about you, and how you appear on TV."

Hardy snickered and shook his head, "I guess I am breaking kayfabe, aren't I? What you see on TV is just giving back to the fans what they give me, bullshit by the truckload."

"So what happened?" Matt asked, "When you first showed up back in the old 411Fed, you were a quick fan favorite, then you slowly became more and more hated."

Hardy laughed to himself, "the TCW merchandise department certainly like having me around."

"Seriously, though," Matt asked, "from a ‘face' to a ‘heel', don't you miss having the fans chanting your name and getting behind you?"

Hardy remained silent for a few moments before nodding slowly, "yeah, every day. I always wonder what it would be like to be fighting alongside guys like you instead of against, and to have more than just the women cheering for me."

"So why don't you act more ‘babyface' like? I mean, not trying to push it on you, but if it's something you like..." Matt said.

Hardy looked down at his Infinity ring, "I think it's too late for that at this point, I guess I've found my little niche. I guess in my situation, it's like the mob: you can join... but you can never leave..."

Matt shrugged, "nah, nobody controls your destiny but you."

Hardy nodded slowly, "I guess so. Just don't let anyone see the two of us having this conversation, the whole wrestling community would shit a brick if they saw a ‘face' and ‘heel' sitting together having a conversation like this."

Matt snickered, "sure thing, Mr. Heel."

Just then, Lita slumped over and her sleeping head fell onto Matt's shoulder. Hardy didn't notice and Matt didn't mind.

"So what's the deal with Lita here?" Matt asked, "are you two an item or something."

Hardy let out a fake little laugh, "yeah right... Nah, she's just my travelling buddy... or something... Whatever you do, don't tell Infinity that she's with me, or bad things might happen.

"Oh?" Matt blinked, "why's that?"

"Well," Hardy said, "I'm mostly just worried about Highone finding out. See, Lita did something to us a few years ago that wasn't really nice and I'm afraid Highone might still be upset over it. I dunno. Sorry about the vagueness, it's just not something I like to talk about."

"Fair enough," Matt nodded, "don't you worry about her being a target for your opponents? I mean, I wouldn't think of hurting her or anything, but guys like Drakus..."

"Yeah, I think about that kinda stuff twenty-four hours a day," Hardy said, a serious look now glazing over his eyes, "that's why I'm renting a car as soon as we get to Torino."

"Planning on staying out of trouble for once?" Matt asked.

"Exactly, and you're welcome to come too," Hardy said, "We're going to drive up to Milan and stay at a friend's mansion there. He's a soccer player so he'll be out of town for most of the time so he said I could hang there."

"Nice," Matt nodded, "I may have to take you up on that offer, especially with a madman like Drakus in Torino."

"Yeah," Hardy said, his face now turning to an angry expression, "I want to keep both myself and especially Lita away from that assclown. He's already fucked with my life enough as is, and I don't need to add another chapter to that story, so I'm just going to take the high road and just avoid it."

"Another chapter, huh?" Matt raised an eyebrow, "I take it you've got a history with him as well?"

"Sad but true," Hardy said, "it's a long story, but let's just say there's been hard feeling for the past five years or so. I'll tell you about it sometime, but not now, wouldn't want to wake all these people with my ranting and raving."

Matt smirked and nodded, "I can certainly see why you hate him, I've had more than enough run-ins with him over the past month or so. I have no idea how the hell he got the special guest referee job in our match."

Hardy shook his head, "he's gonna try and fuck with us... I just know it..."

Matt grinned, "yeah probably, though I don't think the two of us together would have much problem keeping him in line."

"Hell yeah!" Hardy laughed.

The plane coasted through the night sky towards its Italian destination. Two wrestling superstars, so characteristically separated by ‘babyface' and ‘heel' monickers getting on like two good old boys, chatting like old friends in a moment most wrestling fans would never believe. United by a genuine respect for one another and disdain for a certain other. They could only hope the rest of the week would glide so smoothly.

*Flight 364 to Italy was hours late. It's now the middle of the night, around 3am as far as Matt can figure, and the plane is only just now starting to make its approach. Lita's head is still resting on Matt's shoulder, covered by a blanket David grabbed from the stewardess. Matt and David are still talking shop, sharing road stories and the like.*

David: I gotta admit. It's nice having someone to swap stories with. I've been on the road with Highone and Infinity for so long, everyone's heard everything. Been a while since I had an audience.

Matt: Hell, I'm just happy to have someone to talk to that talks back.

David: Been talking to coma patients lately?

Matt: Actually...

*David shoots Matt a queer look before Matt shakes it off and dismisses the subject.*

Matt: So, the whole good guy and bad guy walking off the plane together thing. I figure if there are no pictures, it never happened. You and Sleeping Beauty here walk off the plane first. I sit tight and wait till everyone's off before leaving. Sound good?

David: Sure. I got a car waiting. I'll grab you at Terminal B.

Matt: Calling shotgun is out of the question, right?

David: Sorry buddy. No leg room for you.

*Matt looks over to the red head still napping on his arm.*

Matt: Can't say I'd answer differantly. So hush hush on this?

David: Completely. If anyone asks her name, it's Leela.

Matt: Leela? You just changed, effectively, one letter?

David: I panicked!

Matt: And no one knows who she is?

David: As far as I know, nope.

*Matt sits still in his seat, looking forward. With a smile and small laugh..*

Matt: Wow.

David: Shutup new blood.

*The two laugh and try to wipe the sleep out of their eyes. It's been a long night, and they probably should have tried to sleep, but sleep was never for the young. The pilot turns on the fasten seatbelts light, as the stewards start setting up for landing. The commotion wakes up Lita, who looks around a bit unaware of her surroundings. Matt and David both look over.*

Matt: Morning, Tiger.

_________________________________________________________________________

*The landing is, thankfully, uneventful. The passengers start reaching up for the overhead compartments, long before the announcement tells them to, but that happens world round. The trio undo their seatbelts and start their short farewell.*

David: Time to go be a rock star. You ready, Lita?

*Lita nods, speaking little this trip, and grabs David's hand as he makes his way into the aisle.*

Matt: See ya in a bit, Tiger Beat.

*Hardy smirks and gives Matt the finger. The pair fade into the crowd of the evacuating plane. Matt sits alone again, takes off his hat to vigerously rub his scalp with his fingers. He forcibly sighs and looks around for his third wind. Rotating his left shoulder to work out the stiffness from having Lita sleep on it, he can't help but think about what a differance a week makes. This time a week ago, he was in a jail cell across from Drakus. Today? He's about to jump in a car with his opponent to go stay in a mansion, after spending an international flight with Lita asleep on his shoulder. Surreal. Matt looks around and sees the crowd has thinned quite a bit. Grabbing his bag, he steps out into the aisle and goes off to find Terminal B.*

*It doesn't take long to find it, or the anxious Hardy revving the engine of his car. Matt was never good with cars. He couldn't pick a model out of a lineup to save his life, and constantly confuses the Ford and Chevy logos. He could tell three things about this car though. It was yellow. It had the top down. And it was most certainly fast. His third wind catches up with him as he tosses his bags in the back and hops over the side of the car, landing stretched out in the backseat.*

Matt: Home, Jarvis.

David: As you wish, sir.

*Hardy nails the gas, and the tires spin as the three rocket out on their way to Milan. Hardy has his iPod jacked into the stereo, playing something Matt can't pick out. He'd always been a classic/80's rock kind of guy, but whatever this was, it was listenable. Hardy punches the gas around corners, Lita's hair looks alive in the wind, all while Matt leans back and watches the night sky speed by.*

Matt: It doesn't get much better, man.

David: Amen.

________________________________________________________________________

*The car pulls up in front of an incredible home. Even Hardy is a bit taken aback. However, Matt has his jaw on the ground. He takes off his hat and stands up in the back seat.*

Matt: That's one house?! It's like the mother of all homes!

David: Something like twelve bedrooms, five bathrooms, home theatre, two pools.

Lita: A bed sounds good about now.

Matt: Sleep?! Look at this place!

*Matt stetches his arms out to point out the place.*

Matt: We're house sitting the Xavier Institute! I'm gonna go in. Can I go in? I'm gonna go in.

*Matt jumps out of the car and spints for the french doors that line the kitchen. Unlocked. Matt starts running around the place, looking at everything at once. David and Lita smile at each other before heading up to the house by themselves.*

Lita: He's kind of like a puppy, isn't he?

David: House broken, I hope.

Matt: (yelling from somewhere in the house): Have you seen this room?! Look at this room! What's over here?! That's his pool?! I've seen waterparks that are smaller!

*A splash is heard from the back of the house.*

David: I think he'll be ok by himself. From what I've heard, the dude is part fish.

Lita: I need to shower. I hate plane rides. Which way is the bathroom?

David: Which one?

*Lita shoots him a glare in response.*

David: I think there's one back there. I'll be in the kitchen, I'm starving.

*The three all go their seperate ways. David scrounging in the kitchen, Lita finding herself what will no doubt be a luxerious shower, and Matt swimming in the pool in his boxers.*

________________________________________________________________________

*Hours later, everyone has played, eaten, and relaxed. As the afternoon starts to creep into the evening, we find Matt and David sitting in... some room. They've both lost track of what each room is exactly. Both spread out on couches, Matt tips back another bottle of beer while Hardy digs around in the pile of food on the table.*

David: So you're pretty proud of the whole Jersey Shore thing.

Matt: Hells yeah! Jersey born and bred. An American boy couldn't wish for a better place to grow up than Wildwood. It's just fun. Granted, you've gotta make your own fun when tourist season dies down, but that's never been a problem.

David: Such as?

Matt: Story time? Alright. Lemme think. Ooh, got it.

*Matt pulls himself upright just a bit, resting back on the arm of the couch. Matt talks alot with his hand, the remaining beer sloshing around in the bottle as he gestures.*

Matt: So this must've been like four years ago, about this time of year. Tourists pretty much die out around Labor day, but some of the pier stays open. It's pretty much the point where the cops stop being lenient to tourists and harsh towards locals. So me and some buddies decide that at like, two in the morning, we wanna get our boards out on the ocean. Waves are pretty dead, but it's fun to just paddle out there and goof around. Thing is, beaches are closed that late. So we grab our boards, and head down towards the boardwalk. We duck under one of the amusement piers, and foot it down the beach with tons of tons of amusement park over our head. We hit the end of the dock, and there's still two hundred yards or so to the ocean.

David: Wait, you have piers over sand?

Matt: Yeah. The beach keeps growing. My parents told me how water used to come all the way up to the street during high tide. That woulda been fun. But anyway, we make this made dash to the ocean, and paddle our boards out as far as we could manage. So we're sitting out there, just messing around and talking trash, till one of the guys sees this sandbar about two hundred feet out. I dunno how he saw it, cause it was pitch dark. At any rate, we make our way out there and plant our boards and decide to do a surfer trampoline.

David: Surfer trampoline?

Matt: Yeah. Basically, everyone but one guys locks hands in like a web design. The guy steps on it, we all count to three, than toss him in the air. The guy flips or whatever in the air, and lands in the deep water. It's super fun, especially when you're drunk like we were. So a couple of guys go, and it comes to my turn. So we do the countdown and the toss, and I hit something like a double flip with a twist. It was Olympic, man. But when I hit the water, something doesn't feel right. Like I didn't land in water. I figure I was coming down in some seaweed, but it turns out I just landed spread eagle in a school of jelly fish.

David: You're lying!

Matt: Honest to God. I'm getting the hell stung out of me, screaming with mouthfuls of salty water. My boys are freaking out, and can't figure out what's going on. Half are drunk and half are high. I'm not sure how they got me out, but they manage to pull me free and get me on the sandbar. I'm completely out of it, messed up on beer and jellyfish stings. There's no chance I'm paddling to shore. So these guys lay me on my boards, and start hauling me to shore. Now I have no idea what's going on. I'm friggen delusional, right? So I'm laying on my board, still coughing up sea water, and I'm trying to figure out what's happening. For whatever reason, I start thinking back to this History Channel thing I saw on Vikings, and how they'd get put on a boat, set on fire, and sent out to sea when they die. So naturaly, I'm thinking these guys are sending me out to sea. I start thrashing around, and I start to fall off the board. So how do they fix this? The biggest guy punches me across the jaw, knocking me right out.

*Hardy falls off the couch. Maybe it wouldn't be so funny if both guys weren't so tired and in good spirits, but for this moment, it's the perfect story. The laughing is contagious, and Matt starts to laugh too. With tears rolling down his face, he tries to finish the story.*

Matt: So anyway, we get to shore. Shutup! I'm trying to finish! So we get to shore, and beach patrol is right there when we get to the beach. I guess they heard me screaming. So they start giving us the third degree, just to be dicks. They knew what we were doing. It's not the first time we'd been caught by them either. So they ask us what happened to me, cause I'm moaning and drooling. What do those guys tell them? A whaling accident! Whales! They said I fell in the blowhole. Man, do I have some dumb friends. The worst part was I had to stick to the story, so from that point on, the beach patrol would call me blowhole.

*The two start convulsing laughing again, tears rolling down their face and clutching their stomach. Matt's beer fizzles on the carpet. Lita comes down from a bedroom, woken up by all the laughing. She smiles and heads down the stairs toward the pair.*

Lita: What's so funny?

David: Nothing, hon. Blowhole here is just talking about how he thinks he's going to win this week. Laugh riot.

*Matt sits up and points at Hardy in mock arguement. Lita laughs and starts to join in.*

Lita: Like he has a chance, what, with you blading his way to victory last time.

*Matt and David stop laughing, a bit abruptly. David looks like his heart leapt up to his throat, and Matt looks at David in a bit a shock. With a grin growing on his face, Matt talks to Hardy.*

Matt: You bladed? I told my story, your turn.

*Matt grabs a fresh beer off the table and sits back, legitimately interested in the story in an amused fashion.*

Matt Strikmore crossed his arms and leaned back in the recliner, staring at the television screen infront of him. David Hardy cleared his throat and pressed the play button on the remote and looked away.

David Hardy slid nonchalantly out of the ring as the referee raised Matt Strikmore's hand in victory. The televised cameras didn't show Hardy turn around and applaud the victor, but this angle showed otherwise. Hardy gave Strikmore a thumbs up before using the same thumb to whipe the small trickle of blood from his forhead. Hardy grinned and shook his head as he turned towards the exit and kept walking. He looked down at something in his hand and lazily tossed it to the side.

"And there it is!" Lita pointed at the screen, "razor blade!"

Hardy mouthed something to himself, something along the lines of ‘please shut the fuck up...'

Matt leaned forward and squinted at the television, "sure enough..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Hardy muttered, "Matt! Any more stories to tell us?"

Matt rolled his eyes and nodded towards Hardy and gestured towards the TV, "maybe later, so what's the deal with this?"

Hardy shrugged and sipped his drink, "dunno."

"Riiiight," Matt said as he shook his head, glancing back at Lita.

"Oh just tell him, already!" Lita said with a small laugh in her voice.

Hardy shot Lita a look from across the room, he clearly wasn't impressed.

"Oh lighten up, will you!" Matt smirked, "I'm not mad, just curious..."

"He said he liked you, Matty," Lita said.

"Fuck off!" Hardy huffed and crossed his arms.

"So much that you'd blade yourself to give me a win, Dave?" Matt raised an eyebrow, "I'm deeply touched but I'm afraid I'm not interested, besides, don't you have a thing for this pretty redhead next to me?"

"You shut up too!!!" Hardy said as he pointed at the two of them.

Lita blinked and Hardy's face turned red as Strikmore held back a chuckle.

"Look, I'll tell you the truth, but you can't tell anybody, got it?" Hardy sighed, "It could get me into a shitload of trouble."

"Do tell," Strikmore said.

"Well, I had seen several of your matches before our triple threat with Mr. Roboto, JE7, and I had been tremendously impressed," Hardy explained, "hell, you're probably the most impressive rookie this fed has seen since... well, since I showed up."

Lita took a sip of her drink and made a smooching noise. Hardy flipped her off.

"I was really excited about facing you, if not a bit worried since you'd basically plowed through everyone you'd faced previously," Hardy continued, "Though I didn't think the circumstances of our match really offered us the opportunity to show what we could do in the ring together. Seriously, it's a retarded match stipulation, and I knew no matter what happened, the match would be over before either of us could truely hit our stride. Bleeding has never stopped me before and I know damn well that a bit or rest stuff on your face ain't gonna stop you."

"So then why cut yourself and end it before we could go any further?" Matt asked with a puzzled expression.

"Honestly, I didn't think it was worth it to continue and make you bleed. If I'm to face you, I'd want it to be until we take each other to the limit, not until one of us starts oozing," Hardy sighed.

"But you pretty much threw away your shot in the tournament, why risk such a thing?" Matt asked.

"I can't really say too much about it, but Commissioner Stern and I go back a few years and she owed me a few favors," Hardy replied, "So we agreed that if I were to lose at some point in the tournament, she'd reinstate me a wildcard."

"Interesting," Matt said, curious about Stern and Hardy's past.

Lita had already known about the deal, though didn't know all the terms of it. She didn't know if she wanted to.

"I guess, in my mind," Hardy cleared his throat, "I really thought I'd have no problem with you, but I still thought you deserved to go on to the next round. Looking back now, I'm not so sure if I could take you so easily, but I and everyone else thought I could. Hell, the betting odds against you winning the match were even lower than JE's, both far behind me, of course. I saw an opportunity to help someone out and to make a pile of cash, so I had a friend of mine put a ton of my money on you to win, which, naturally, I made sure happened."

"What!?" Lita blinked, not knowing this face before.

Hardy nodded, "and there's where that expensive car in the driveway came from... I think it was worth it..."

"Wow..." Matt said, still taking this all in.

"Is that a good wow, or a bad wow?" Hardy asked as he stood up.

He walked over to the VCR and ejected the tape. With a quick press, he snapped it in half and tossed it into the burning fireplace. He dusted his hands off and sighed.

"Either way," Hardy said, "it's not something either of us have to worry about anymore. I got my money, and you won the tournament, so we all win."

Matt stood up, "Maybe it would have been a different outcome if you didn't pull that little blade trick on me."

Hardy shrugged, "You probably would have gotten the wildcard spot anyway and taken it from there, who knows."

Matt approached Hardy, "Look, Dave, I appreciate that you think highly of me and were looking out for me and what not, don't get me wrong."

Matt then put his hand on Hardy's shoulder from behind and turned him around so they were face to face, "but don't ever do that again. I don't know what your background is involving wrestling, but I believe in honor in the ring and something like that would be completely unacceptable where I come from. Like I said, I appreciate your thoughts, but when I win, I want to win because I'm the better man, not because someone else thinks it ain't worth it, or wants to make a quick buck. Go it?"

Hardy stared right back at Strikmore, "You don't need to worry about that, I'll bring everything I have come the event."

Hardy placed his hand forward with a smirk. Matt stared at him and nodded slowly before taking his hand and shaking it.

"That being said," Matt said, "I still don't think we'll be able to give the people our best in a few nights."

"Oh?" Hardy blinked.

"Not with Drakus kicking around," Matt said, "that guy's got vendettas against both of us and I fully expect some sort of cheap shot from him."

Hardy nodded slowly, "I see where you're coming from. I guess all we can do is hope he actually does his job... either that or he doesn't make it to the event."

Matt raised an eyebrow, "That sounds suspiciously like you have something in store for Drakus..."

"Nope..." Hardy shook his head and sat back down, "In fact, I'd rather not have anything to do with him at all until the event. And do you really think I'd wanna leave this flippin' castle to go beat up some bonehead and his lawyer? Piss on that!"

Matt laughed, "Good point! Speaking of which, I need to make a trip to the little boys room. Save my spot!"

"Get me something," Lita called to him as he disappeared down the hall in search of a bathroom.

Hardy waited til he heard Matt enter a different room, then he quickly hopped over to Lita, "What the hell was that!?"

Lita blinked in surprise, "what did I do?"

"Telling Matt about the whole bladejob thing!" Hardy said with an angry tone, "I'm damn lucky he didn't take it the wrong way and lose it on me!"

"Then what's the big deal?" Lita said, looking a bit worried, "He's fine, you're fine, everybody's fine!"

"Maybe, but you could have fucked everything up!" Hardy snapped, perhaps a bit too under the influence.

"Don't you talk like that to me!" Lita said as she hopped up to her feet and stood right infront of him, glaring into his eyes.

"Then think before you speak! Matt could have turned and beat the crap outta me for pulling that little stunt!" Hardy grumbled.

"Oh come on!" Lita shot back at him, "He wouldn't have done something like that. Don't make such a huge fucking deal out of something so small. It was a goddamn joke."

"Look, I don't need any more enemies," Hardy snapped, "so from now on, how about when I'm around opponents, you keep your big mouth shut, okay?"

"David," Lita huffed, "you're not the boss of me! I can say what I want, when I want, and don't you ever pull this overreacting shit on me again! Just take a goddamn valium or something."

"Okay," snorted Hardy, "then you have another couple drinks and keep running your mouth off. How many have you downed tonight?"

Suddenly, Lita's open hand came out and slapped Hardy right across the face. The blow was so hard and surprising that it knocked him back a few feet. With a groan he rubbed his red cheek and looked up to see her glaring at him with her arms crossed. He narrowed his eyes and growled at her. He quickly grabbed a bucket of ice and water that previously housed an overpriced bottle of wine and stepped to her. He tilted the bucket over and poured all the icewater and small pieces all over her head. She let out a yelp as she hunched her shoulders up in shock of the cold.

After a few moments she flipped her now drenched hair up and looked at him, a scowl drawn across her face. Hardy held his hands out at his side with a slight smirk tugging at his lips. The two stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity without a single word spoken. Their pulses raced and their glares slowly faded away. Then Lita did the last thing Hardy would ever expect her to do.

She suddenly stepped forward and placed a hard kiss against his lips.

In a moment he'd much later wish he'd taken more smoothly, he stumbled back in surprise and tripped over the ottoman foot rest. With a gasp he feel backwards crashing into the table loaded with booze and snacks. He fell right through the middle and all it's contents dumped all over him. Lita gasped and covered her mouth, stepping backwards in shock.

"Oh my God," she gasped, "I..."

"Whoa, what the heck did I just miss?" asked Matt, as he reentered the room.

Lita looked at Matt then turned away, still touching her lips.

"You're all wet, and you're the latest in dining accessories..." Matt blinked, "why do I always miss the fun stuff."

Hardy slowly got to his feet and brushed his clothes off. After a few moments he looked up, right at Lita, though it was just a momentary glance before looking at Matt.

"I, ah, I think I should probably take a shower... downstairs..." Hardy said.

With those words he quickly powerwalked out of the room, careful not to look at Lita. They could hear him jump down most of the steps and feintly close one of the bathroom doors on the floor below. Matt raised an eyebrow and looked at Lita.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

Lita shook her head slowly and sighed.

"Is there a problem or something?" Matt asked, curious about her demeanor.

"I think we should probably get this mess up before any of it gets caked into the floor..." said Lita softly as she stared at the ground.

Matt nodded slowly and bit his lip, "Might be a good idea. I think I saw a vacuum downstairs by the kitchen.

Lita nodded and the two turned and exited the room. They walked down the hallway and towards the stairs. Lita had her hands jammed into her pockets and looked a bit down.

"Dave sure was in a hurry to get out of there," Matt said, "any idea what that was all about?"

Lita shrugged, "I guess he just doesn't like being dirty..."

Matt laughed, "that's not what I've heard!"

Lita shot him a scowl to which Matt quickly looked away, "or, y'know, maybe not."

Matt approached the steps, trying to figure out what just happened in there to make them both act all weird all of a sudden. Was Hardy mad at her for telling Matt about the blade incident? Was Lita mad at him for pulling all that shit? Was it just another day in the dramatic life of a Hardy brother and Lita? Matt shrugged to himself, guessing it wasn't really his business. He stepped down the first step when he suddenly felt something. He could feet a foot lock around his back foot and trip him up.

"Whoops..." he heard Lita say.

With a gasp he fell forward, losing his balance. He made a grab for the railing but it was no use. He let out a yelp as he became airborn for a moment before crashing back onto the steps. Matt could feel the hard wood of the long curling staircase bash against every part of his body as he tumbled down. He bounced off each step and off the wall for what seemed like forever. His head hit the side rail and blurred his vision as he came to a stop at the bottom of the steps. His whole world was a blurry, spinning mess as he looked up the steps, trying to grasp what the hell just happened.

He could see the blurred form of Lita coming down the steps after him. Maybe it was just his blurred vision, but she didn't seem to look overly concerned for his well being. He tried to analyze the situation but his head just couldn't stop spinning. How did she manage to accidentally trip him up like that? Was it even an accident? It didn't seem like a genuine ‘whoops' but maybe it was just her mood?

"You okay?" he heard her ask.

Matt let out a long groan and he closed his eyes, hoping that would help cure the dizziness and aching all over. He asked himself, what the hell just happened?