The show is nearly over and I’m still conscious… I am amazed! Of course, I got a stunner from Austin and put into the SharpShooter by The Rock. I wonder what Trips has up his sleeve.
      I know this is bad. I’m out here doing “color” commentary during Trips’s match with ol’ Horseface himself, Test. And Trips has glanced over here about fifteen times in the past five minutes.
      Now, the match is over. Next thing I know, Trips is practically flying at me and everything goes dark.

      “Chris?” I feel a light slap on my face. I can’t quite place the voice. “Man, he’s out cold.”
      “Here, try this.” That sounded like JR.
      “I doubt he’s thirsty, JR.” Jerry Lawler. If I was close enough to consciousness, I’d laugh. One of them splashes the water in my face.
      “Someone get the number of that truck?” I quip. They help me sit up.
      “It was Paul,” JR says.
      “Hit ya with the belt,” Lawler adds.
      “Great,” I say, deadpan. “How long was I out?” I rub my head.
      “Maybe five minutes. We thought it was part of the storyline,” Lawler says, shrugging.
      “Only five minutes? I’d better get an ice pack,” I say and try to stand, but my balance is just a bit off.
      “I’ll get the ice pack… and see if I can talk to Paul,” JR says, then gets up and leaves.
      “Why don’t you take a few days off,” Lawler suggests, seemingly out of nowhere.
      “I’d love to.” I look up at him. “Do you know how I could *get* said time off?”
      “Tell Vince ya got a concussion,” he says.
      this time I laugh. “Ya know, King, I probably have got one.”
      “Atleast you won’t be lying, then,” Lawler says. “Couldn’t hurt anymore than getting hit with the belt.”
      I look him square in the eyes. “Would you tell me who your writers are? I’m stuck with Stephanie, in *and* out of the story.”
      “It’s the concussion talking,” Lawler comments, then gets up. I’m gonna find JR before Paul gets angry--again.” He leaves.
      And here I am, sitting on the floor, next to the announce table. I’m just glad the crowd is too busy trying to leave to even notice I’m still kinda lying here. Ah, who am I kidding? With this egoholic character, most of these people don’t even care if…
      “Hey, Y2J?”
      I look up and see a girl wearing one of my shirts standing behind the barricade just behind me.
      “You shouldn’t take that from Helmsley. It’s bad enough you got stuck with that trashbag ho, but what he did was uncalled for. Just for that, make him pay at WrestleMania,” she says, then smiles.
      I almost laugh. “I’ll do that, thanks.”
      “Just make sure you start calling her names again soon,” she says, turns, and walks away.
      “Fraternizing with audience members? That won’t do much for your character.” Lawler’s back.
      I give him a glare. “Where’s my ice pack and month vacation?”
      Lawler backs off. Score one for Y2J!

      I finally make it back to my lockerroom… and guess who’s there waiting for me!
      “You and Paul have a disagreement?” She smirks at me.
      “Can it, Steph, I’m not in the mood,” I snap, rubbing my aching head.
      She actually looks taken aback, then the smug look returns. “I *was* going to ask if you’re okay, but now I don’t really care.”
      “Good. Oh, and give my storyline to another writer. It isn’t *my character* holding me back, it’s you,” I say.
      She storms out of the room. Score another for Y2J!

      Monday afternoon. Thankfully, the house shows were no problem. Unfortunately, I’m really no better off than I was a week ago. So now, I’m just sitting in my lockerroom, waiting for the Billion Dollar Princess to show up and give me the urge to strangle her--again.
      *knock, knock*
      “It’s open,” I call out.
      The door opens and I practically jump up, out of my seat… actually, I did.
      “What’s this ‘Undisputed Champ’ crap?” Chris Benoit asks, coming in.
      “That’s exactly what it is,” I tell him, “crap.” I go over and shake his hand. “Good to see ya back!”
      Benoit smirks. “And it’s good *not* to see Stephanie.”
      “You know about that,” I say.
      “I haven’t had much else to do,” he says, then pauses. “I think I may have an idea of how to get rid of her for good.”
      “Tell me, please!” I say, sounding quite desperate.
      Benoit folds his arms over his chest and gives, what would qualify for him as, a smile. “What if you were to partner up with someone indefinitely, you wouldn’t need her anymore, right? Granted, you wouldn’t be ‘Undisputed’ anymore, but the Tag Belts are rather prominent.”
      “So, you’re saying…” I start.
      “I’m back for good, Irvine. I’m not on the DL anymore,” he says.
      *knock, knock, knock*
      “I take it that’s probably Stephanie,” Benoit says.
      I nod solemnly. “Here to make yet another day in my life a living hell.” I go over and answer the door.
      “I think you’re slipping, Jericho. You didn’t make me open the door myself,” the Princess says, inviting herself in, but stops cold when she sees Benoit. “Chris?”
      “Yes?” we answer in unison.
      “Good news, Steph, Benoit’s back for good,” I say.
      “But…” she stammers, “I thought you’d be out another month or even two still.”
      Benoit smirks. “Do I need a damn doctor’s note?”
      “N-no… you don’t… I just… I…” she stammers again, then looks at her watch. “Will you look at the time. I’ve got a meeting in two minutes!” She rushes out the door.
      “Was it something I said?” Benoit asks.

      Raw is just starting. This is going to be a great night.
      Stephanie’s music just kicked in and she’s walking to the ring. Now for my little surprise.
      I wait through the countdown clock, then go out and stand at the top of the ramp. To hell with the egoholic.
      All I can hear are ‘boo’s. Oh, wait my Jerichoholics, just give me two minutes.
      I walk down the ramp and get in the ring.
      “What’re you doing out here?” she ask, before the music stops.
      “You’ll see,” I reply.
      The music stops and Stephanie takes the cue. “This must be important. You have something to say?” She grins.
      “Yeah, I have something to say.” The ‘boo’s kick in even louder. Come on, Benoit, take the cue…
      Benoit’s music kicks in and the crowd goes nuts. The ovation is absolutely tremendous, very much like Paul’s when he returned. He goes around the ring and gets his own mic, then climbs in. “Well, if it isn’t wrestling’s most hated couple.” He smirks, receiving a loud pop for that. “Oh, I’m sorry, you had something to say, Jericho?”
      I smile as the crowd, again, gives me heat. “First, I’d like to say welcome back to you, Benoit.” I shake his hand and that gets a decent pop. “Second, Stephanie,” I turn to her, “I have *one* thing to tell you.” I pause. “Stephie-baby…” A louder pop for that, I think the crowd is catching on. “Must I remind everyone that you are a…” I pause and grin as she looks pissed off and horrified at the same time, “filthy,” I pause, glancing over the crowd, “dirty,” *what*, “disgusting,” *what*, “brutal,” *what*, “bottom-feeding,” *what*, “trash bag ho!” *what* Huge pop! I was hoping the crowd would pick up on playing along. That felt so good. “You know, it’s been so long, I guess maybe I’ve taken a few too many shots to the head lately and forgot that Y2J is meant to humiliate you.” At that, I drop the mic and leave the ring.
      Benoit does the same and follows me out to a huge pop.
      Unfortunately, the moment we’re backstage, Vance shows his face.
      “What the hell did you think you were doing out there?” he asks.
      “Well, Vance, I thought I’d give the fans something to cheer about,” I tell him, then walk away.
      Benoit looks at Vince, shakes his head, then follows me again.
      Stephanie storms backstage and finds her dad. “Did you see what just happened out there?!”
      “Yes, I did…” Vince says.
      “What are you going to do about that?!” she screeches.
      Vince gives her his patented evil grin. “You’ll see.”