Volume I
Chapter TEN
“In Which What Remains of the Fellowships Pays a Visit to a Girl, and She Tries to Steal the Title.”
 

Orton: Man, that trip through Alabama was rough.
Jericho: Who knew Bob Holly would be so pissed off about us 

asking for a snack? Geez.
Dreamer: I didn’t even get a juice box.
Tazz: Shhhh. You hear that? They say an evil harpy inhabits these woods. A witch who can destroy anyone who crosses her. We’d better be careful, or else we’re gonna get our asses kicked.
A Voice: BENOIT?
Tazz: They say she’s got a nice rack though. Woohoo! Sorry. Jerry Lawler moment there.
A Voice: Benoit, why do you have that belt? It’d look really nice with this pleather skirt I’ve got. Can I borrow it?
Dreamer: Who here likes Chili Cheese Fritos? Huh? I sure do!
Tazz: I dunno, brotha. I’d rather have some nachos or something. I wonder where I can get some nachos around here?

Suddenly, Tazz gets hit in the face by a chair and a kick.

RVD: Van Daminator! Yeah! All right!!
Tazz: Ow.
Jericho: Rob. Hey, man. Do you have someplace we can stay for the night? All this walking is exhausting.
Tazz: No, no, no. I’m getting myself out of this friggin’ bayou. I’ll see you guys later.
RVD: Oh, come on, Tazz. There’s gonna be cake! Cake. Oh man, I’ve got the munchies.

They set out through the wilds, and later that day, wind up in a quaint vacation community. They are met there by Stephanie McMahon, who is flanked by Rob Van Dam (who had doubled back to find his canister of spray cashews) and John Bradshaw Layfield.

JBL: Hey, you guys! Shane told us you were coming. Where’s that old ass, Flair? I wanna buy him a drink.

Stephanie looks into Jericho’s eyes.

Stephanie: He’s trapped in a well? He broke his knees? Okay, I’m getting nothing here. What is it, boy?
Jericho: He, uh, fell into a bottomless chasm.
Stephanie: Oh. You’ve got to work on your non-verbal communication skills. Boy, without Flair lending some much-needed credibility to your stable, you’re going to have it rough.
Christian: Which is exactly what you wanted. Isn’t it, you little minx? Dammit, you’ve got your husband’s back in this one, don’t you?
Stephanie: I have no idea what you’re talking about. We’re divorced.
Jericho: Uh… oh, right. We totally forgot about that.
Stephanie: No you didn’t. You ran over our dog.
Eddie: Shhhhh. Let’s not quibble.
Stephanie: Yeah. But you’d better watch out, Christian. As for you, Mr. Benoit, welcome to the WWE Experience.

A shudder goes down the spines of all the Fellowship. Later that night, Ivory and Todd Grisham babble unintelligibly as the Fellowship sets up some cots outside one of Stephanie’s vacation cottages.

Christian: I don’t see why we can’t stay inside. Lousy rental fees. What the hell are those two going on about, anyway?
Orton: They’re doing a career retrospective on Ric Flair. I wonder if they know that nobody is watching it.
Chavo: Have they said anything about my little Pepe?
Orton: Uh… sure they did. Sure they did.
Chavo: (sniffles)

Jericho sits down next to Christian.

Jericho: Get some rest, nobody even knows this place exists. That’s why I checked WWE.com at Bob Holly’s house to see where the Experience was being held this week. I knew it was safe from Vince and his cronies.
Christian: I can’t sleep, man. Listen to her. I need to watch out. “I need to watch out”? I’m not being pushed. It sucks, you know? My leader, he’s just gone completely nuts. He’s retired from wrestling, but he’s absolutely crazy. I shudder to think what it’s doing to my brother Edge. And what about me? You know I’m the captain of the guard? Captain Charisma, they call me.
Jericho: They do not.
Christian: Sure they do. Have- have you ever seen RAW, Chris? I mean the real RAW, not the crap they’re doing over there now. With pyros and full arenas and great ratings and you should have seen the catering. Have you seen it?
Jericho: Sure I have. It was pretty great.
Christian: Yeah, yeah. Well, some day we’ll march on down that entrance ramp as WWE Tag Team Champions again. It’ll be awesome.
Jericho: Yeah, okay. Sure. Why not? You don’t have real high hopes for any sort of push, do you?
Christian: Should I, Chris? Should I?

Before the sun breaks, Chris Benoit is roused by the stamping of feet near him. He awakens to see Stephanie McMahon stumbling and falling into a hot tub. Benoit walks over to see if she needs any help.

Stephanie: I’m fine. I’m fine! I SAID I WAS FINE, NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!
Benoit: Okay, okay. Geez. Shhhh. Tommy Dreamer’s trying to sleep.
Stephanie: Chris, look into my cleavage. What do you see?

Benoit stares deep into the cleavage, concentrating hard on trying to make sense of the images that appear. He sees a burning Smackdown sign, his friends standing in the unemployment line, being whipped by large untalented wrestlers, the cruiserweights begging to job to Gene Snitski. Then he sees the laughing face of Vince McMahon yelling, “The WWF is mine. IT’S MINE! I CREATED IT! I’M NOT GONNA LET RIC FLAIR KILL WHAT I CREATED! Because, I’m going to… kill… what I’ve created. I’M GONNA KILL IT. I’m gonna inject the WWF with a LETHAL DOSE OF POISON. I’m gonna do it. Me… and the N-W-O.” Benoit shudders as Stephanie nods her head.

Stephanie: I know. The nWo again. Even I’m not that dumb. My father’s gotta be stopped before he becomes corporeal again and I lose my trust fund.
Benoit: But, I mean… WrestleMania? I just can’t do it. You’d probably get on, no problem. Why don’t you take this belt?
Stephanie: Yes… YES! With me as the champion, the dominant queen of wrestling would rule once again! The men would be at my feet - BEGGING for a job. AND I COULD CHOOSE WHO WAS PUSHED! I’M THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL IN THE WORLD!!

Stephanie continues to shriek for a few minutes before sitting down.

Stephanie: I can’t. It’d mean I’d have to wrestle once a year, and I just don’t have the energy for any of that. So you take it. Take it all the way to WrestleMania.
Benoit: There’s no way I’ll get there.
Stephanie: You’ve got to.
Benoit: It’s just that....
Stephanie: Chris, it’s hard for me to admit this. Really hard. But sometimes, the smallest wrestler can change the course of the future.

In Greenwich....

Triple H: Arise, my No Limit Soldiers! ARISE! Yes! Do you know what the critics said about you? That rappers shouldn’t wrestle. That the angle completely sucked. That not a single one of you was worth the time that was spent on you. Well it’s time to show those jerky, acne-covered, living-in-their-parent’s-basement 14-year-old internet nut wads what’s what. Now WHO DO YOU SERVE?
Master P: Triple H!
Swoll: Hooty HOO!
Triple H: Damn right. Hunt them down, and wipe them out. Last man standing. I don’t want a single one of them to leave that area in anything but a stretcher or an ambulance. But save the one with the scruffy beard. He has something of mine, and I want it back.

Back in Louisiana, Stephanie stands on the banks of the Mississippi, and she kisses all the Fellowship on the cheek. Much to the delight of Tazz who is just tall enough to be eye to eye with her knockers. She hands a vial to Benoit.

Benoit: What’s in here? Cocaine? Steroids?
Stephanie: No, no. It’s the last of our pyro gunpowder. Use it when you need to make a huge entrance.

While the No Limit Soldiers do donuts in their Hummers in some parking lot, The Fellowship rows their canoes up the Mississippi.

Jericho: Look at that. Somebody built huge tin-can statues of Lou Thesz and Sting.
Benoit: Why?
Jericho: Hell if I know. But it’s pretty cool, nonetheless.
Benoit: Yeah. I guess it is.

Once they reach Arkansas, they pull the boats over to the shore and set up camp on the beach.

Jericho: All right, if we keep going west from here, we should be in L.A. in no time.
Tazz: Yeah. We’ll just walk across the Rocky Mountains, and across that desert and waltz into the Staples Center NO PROBLEM!
Orton: You know, I think there might be somebody following us over on the other side of the river. When I held up my mirror to check my hair, I thought I saw some thing.
Dreamer: Like what?
Orton: Something shiny on the other shore. You know, it reflected the sunlight. Like, bling-bling, you know?
Chavo: Hey, has anyone seen Benoit?

Benoit has taken shelter in a small outcropping of rocks. He looks tired and haggard. Well, more haggard than usual. Christian approaches him.

Christian: What’re you doin’, little buddy? It’d be totally heinous if somebody found you here. Why, if some wrestler hit you with his finisher? He could steal the belt. No problem. Then where would we be?
Benoit: Oh, Christian. Don’t tell me you’re about to turn heel.
Christian: Don’t you understand? I need that belt. Look at me! I’m a good wrestler. I’m entertaining. But do I ever get pushed? No! I’m a comedy wrestler. I’m a mid-card gimmick. What do I get? Nothing. I deserve a World Title.
Benoit: NO!
Christian: Come on. Just let-let me be a transitional champion. I’ll drop it to you at the next PPV. I promise.
Benoit: No means no.
Christian: I’m the more entertaining wrestler. I’ve got a better chance of getting into WrestleMania!

Benoit runs. Christian takes him down with a missile dropkick off the top of the rocks.

Christian: I HAVE THE POWER! Be a good little smackweed and give me the belt.
Benoit: Never!

Benoit squirms away and puts the title on, and black rain clouds suddenly fill the sky, bringing near nightfall. On his way out, he kicks Christian in the balls.

Christian: Ow. I see your plan! You’re going to give it to Vince in the hopes that he’ll push you, right? You’re no better than Triple H. No better. Oh damn. What am I saying? Of course he’s better than Triple H. Anybody is better than Triple H. Come back! Take me with you to turn with Vince! We can win the tag team titles together!

Benoit rushes ahead through the rain. He stumbles back up the rocks and looks out at the long road ahead of them toward WrestleMania. He suddenly sees a phantom WWE Camera crew taping him, the camera crew that the wrestlers can never see in their backstage segments. Following the Fellowship and reporting their every move to Mr. McMahon. Benoit is suddenly very ill. He tumbles off the rocks, and the belt falls off in transit. Chris Jericho catches them both.

Jericho: Benoit?
Benoit: Christian’s turned heel.
Jericho: And the belt?
Benoit: You can’t have it either? Can’t you come to terms with it? Nobody trusts you as champion!
Jericho: Come on now, this isn’t about me. It’s about you!
Benoit: Is it? Are you still in my stable, Chris? Would you throw this title in the garbage in front of a PPV audience?

Jericho envisions his name on the belt’s nameplate. He touches the strap lovingly. And then snaps it on Benoit’s shoulder.

Jericho: I would have put Triple H himself in the Walls of Jericho until he tore his quad for you, Chris.
Benoit: I know. I know. You’re the head of the stable now, Y2J. Make sure Tommy gets to get a few shots in now and then. He feels underutilized.
A Voice: HOOTIE HOO!
Jericho: Oh snap. Run, Benoit. Run!

Benoit takes off down a small incline as Jericho turns just in time to nail Brad Armstrong with a chairshot across the skull. He poses and yells, “Come On, Baby!” as the rest of the rap army approaches him.

In the forest near the camp....

Dreamer: Hello? Is anyone there? Mr. Benoit?
Master P: Find the scruffy ones.
Dreamer: Oh snap!

Back at the Pile o’ Rocks....

Tazz: Need some help, brotha? This one’s gonna be rocketbustas.
Jericho: I’ve never seen so many rappers. What a bunch of generic, wannabe poseurs.
Orton: Did someone just say my name? Orton to the rescue!

Orton nails 4x4 with an RKO. Tazz locks Chase in the Tazzmission. Jericho fends off some of the other, more nameless, rappers. Near the bottom of the incline, Eddie and Chavo run into Benoit.

Chavo: Where are you going, esse?
Eddie: Yeah, we’ve got a great hiding spot, holmes.
Benoit: ....
Chavo: What’s the matter? Forget how to cut a promo?
Eddie: He never knew how to cut one. Hahahaha. But seriously, I think he’s leaving, Chavito.
Chavo: Oh. Damn. Well, then you better run.
Eddie: Yeah. HEY! Rap is crap, esse vato loco. Why don’t you come and taste some LATINO HEAT!

The rappers all rush Eddie, led by Konan, who is pissed off that Eddie is more Latino than he is. Eddie and Chavo look at each other and freak out. They run off down the hill while Benoit sneaks off the other direction. As Konan is about to grab Chavo, Christian jumps out of a tree and nails him with the Unprettier. He blocks a heart punch from Swoll, but it becomes clear that the numbers are a bit overwhelming. On the other side of the battlefield, Tazz is suplexing rappers left and right, and Jericho is throwing inhuman amounts of dropkicks.

Meanwhile, Orton has 4x4 locked in a chinlock. Suddenly, they hear Christian’s music from afar.

Jericho: That’s Christian’s theme.
Tazz: He must be in trouble!
Orton: To battle!

The No Limit Soldiers have parked their Hummers between Jericho, Tazz and Orton and Christian, Eddie and Chavo. Half the rappers rush one group while the others rush Christian.

Christian: Run! Run away!

Christian nails a few people with the Unprettier, but it takes too long to set up. How he longs for Tyson Tomko to have his back. Master P pulls out his gun and shoots Christian in the shoulder.

Christian: Oh. Oh damn! Not fair. Totally NOT FAIR.
Master P: I ain’t no wrestler, biatch. HOOTY HOO!

Eddie and Chavo look at each other, and charge ahead trying to spear Master P, but Swoll picks them both up and runs the other direction with them. Master P pops two more caps into Christian’s ass.

Christian: Oh, My ASS! My lovely ass!

Master P swaggers up to Christian and raises his gun. When he’s decked by a chairshot from behind by Jericho, he drops the gun. Christian smirks and then falls over, while Jericho rushes ahead to fight the lame rapper. Master P takes out a broken 40 of Silver Thunder and swings it at Jericho, who nimbly dodges. Jericho crashes the chair into Master P’s back, but the Kevlar absorbs most of the blow, so P is able to turn around and jab the glass into Jericho’s chest. Jericho grimaces, but uses the opportunity to headbutt Master P in the mouth. P’s “iced” teeth bend under the pressure, and he looks ahead in shock.

Master P: That’s it! Now I’m gonna make you say UUNGGGHHHH!

P charges ahead, but Jericho is swifter; he swings the chair, bending its seat around Master P’s head, killing rap in wrestling forever. Well, except for John Cena. And “The Truth.” Okay, killing RAPPERS in wrestling. There. Anyway, Master P has fallen. Tazz and Orton come upon the scene.

Christian: You were a little late making the save, Chris. Not just for me… for the others too.
Jericho: Don’t be silly. Faces can’t lose in the end. We’ll get you to an undisclosed medical facility. You’ll see.
Christian: Where’s Benoit?
Jericho: Long gone. On his way to WrestleMania.
Christian: Good. I couldn’t do it.
Jericho: He’s out of our hands now. Wow, that’s some blade job you did here.
Christian: Don’t you see? The midcarder has been sacrificed to make the main-event heel seem stronger.
Jericho: I will defend our honor, Christian. The honor of all underpushed midcarders.
Christian: Our honor. Yes. I made them look stronger for you. I can see it… the main event of Backlash… Christian vs. Chris Jericho… for the WWE Title… one last time....

Christian has fallen. Jericho places his chair in Christian’s hands, the face of Master P embedded deep within it, and pats his old partner’s head.

Jericho: Farewell, Vitamin C.

Tazz and Orton weep, causing Orton’s mascara to run. At the banks of the Mississippi, Tommy Dreamer has come upon the boat of Chris Benoit.

Dreamer: Mr. Benoit? Where are you going in that boat?

Mist rises up from the river.

Dreamer: Oh hell. I can’t see.
Benoit: It’s a flashback. It’ll pass soon.

A few days back....

Benoit: I wish I’d never been given a run with this title. Who knew so much responsibility came with it?
Flair: Few want that kind of responsibility, kid. But the important thing is what you do with the title. It’s your time now. Can you take the ball and run with it?
Benoit: That phrase is so cliché.
Flair: WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME? WOO! HOW DARE YOU QUESTION THE NATUR-

The mist clears. Tommy is now knee deep in the water.

Benoit: This tide will totally sweep you away, Tommy. I’m going to WrestleMania alone.
Dreamer: I’m coming with you! I’ll be your manager.
Benoit: Son of a bitch. Tommy, your fat ass can’t swim, much less in this current.

Dreamer goes under. Benoit shakes his head sadly and begins paddling upstream, toward WrestleMania. Suddenly Tommy Dreamer’s hand reaches up out of the water, and he pulls himself into the boat. Benoit looks surprised, but pleased.

Dreamer: I told you… I was hardcore.
Benoit: What the hell are you doing here, Tommy?
Dreamer: I told Ric that I wouldn’t leave you. He said, “Watch his back, Tommy Dreamer,” and that’s exactly what I’m on this boat to do.

Benoit smiles his gap-toothed smile and gives Dreamer a manly celebratory hug.

Benoit: Well, grab a paddle then.
Dreamer: Oh, hell no. You were going to leave me to drown back there, weren’t you?

Benoit and Dreamer share a laugh; crossfaces are threatened, and Tommy takes up a pair of oars. Back on the shores, Randy Orton is preparing the canoes for departure.

Orton: If we hurry, we can still catch up to Benoit, and I can get my beauty sleep.
Jericho: No.
Orton: What? We’re done with this story?
Jericho: Benoit’s fate is in his own hands.
Tazz: Some stable we made. Two of our members got killed. Two got kidnapped. Two quit. We’re battin’ 33%. And look what we’ve got left here. An announcer, a no-good pretty boy, and a career midcarder.
Orton: I’ll have you know I’ve been in plenty of main events.
Jericho: You know what? I haven’t been part of a good kidnapping storyline in a long time. What say we go try to get Eddie and Chavo? Huh? Would that make you feel better? Let’s go bust some heels!
Tazz: It’s gonna be rocketbustas! Let’s go!

The 33% Society runs off cheering themselves on. Later that week, Benoit and Dreamer depart from their boats, paddle past the dangerous J.R. country, and take a train from Kansas City to Denver. As they approach the Rockies, they share a look.

Benoit: The Road To WrestleMania. I hope everybody else has an easier time at it.
Dreamer: I’m sure Jericho’s got some scheme worked out.
Benoit: I don’t suppose we’ll ever see them again.
Dreamer: We may yet, Mr. Benoit. You know what they say, “Anything can happen in the WWE.”
Benoit: Eternal optimism. I knew there was some reason I liked you Tommy.