Retribution

[Ben M]

OOC: Just wanted to say a huge thank you to Jay for writing this with me... I had so much fun! Hope you all enjoy reading this as much as we enjoyed writing it :)

It was late, Saturday night, and Fanniversary was less than 24 hours away. Chris Jericho had just accompanied Trish Stratus to Dinner with the Divas. After accompanying her back to the Hyatt Regency hotel, he stopped in the hotel bar for a quiet drink. In the far corner of the bar, looking as discreet as possible and clearly hoping no one would notice him, was Lance Storm. Jericho went to the bar and ordered his specialty - a Yeah Boy (Grey Goose vodka with ice) - then walked over to Lance. Lance was so deep in his thoughts, it took him a good thirty seconds or so to notice his best friend and tag team partner, even though Jericho was stood right next to him.

Lance Storm: I wonder if Missy Hyatt ever banged anyone here.

Chris Jericho: Since when do you know who Missy Hyatt is?

Lance Storm: In your old age you’re forgetting what ECW was. Can I go to bed yet? I don’t want to get my freaky on.

For the first time in a long while, Jericho genuinely felt embarrassed.

Chris Jericho: Sorry… it’s been a long day. I can’t believe I just mixed up Missy Hyatt and Missy Elliott. I’m just glad no one else was here-

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

Jericho turned around to see Dean Ambrose standing a little too close for comfort. Most of the times Jericho had met Ambrose, he struggled to tell if he was drunk or sober. This was one of those times.

Chris Jericho: Umm… hey, Dean.

Jericho took a small step back, trying to regain his personal space. Almost instinctively, Ambrose leaned forwards.

Dean Ambrose: Don’t be sour! You’re just going a little senile. It’s okay to mix up your popular cultures. You’ll be mixing up your medications soon! Speaking of which - lets mix up some drink! Lance? LANCE!

Apparently noticing Lance for the first time due to tunnel vision, Dean wrapped his arms around Lance, who was stood sideways looking away from Dean, as if to pretend he wasn’t there.

Lance Storm: ...Have we met?

Knowing how much Lance hated physical contact, Jericho quickly finished off his drink and grabbed Ambrose, pulling him away from Lance.

Chris Jericho: Lance, this is Dean Ambrose - one half of the Tag Team Champions. Nice guy. Yeah. Say, Dean, why don’t we get those drinks? First round is on me. Lance, can I get you anything?

Lance Storm: MY CAT.

Lance slumped down into a stool and put his head in his hands.

Dean Ambrose: ...HELLO!?

Lance ignored him. Dean looked to Chris.

Chris Jericho: I’ll get you a Diet Coke. Dean, let’s go get these drinks.

Giving Lance a moment to himself, Jericho practically dragged Dean to the bar. As the barman nodded to the two men, Chris began ordering.

Chris Jericho: Hey! Can I get another Grey Goose on ice, a Diet Coke and… what do you want, Dean?

Dean stared at Jericho as if he had just sprouted an extra head or released another Fozzy album.

Dean Ambrose: I… Wes… I THOUGHT YOU WERE A MAN.

He turned to the bartender.

Dean Ambrose: WHISKEY. IRISH IF IT BEGINS WITH A J. IF NOT, SCOTTISH IF IT HAS AN ANIMAL’S NAME IN IT. NO ICE. YOU WATER DOWN MY DRINK I’LL WATER DOWN YOUR SPERM COUNT AND MAKE SURE YOU DON’T REPLICATE YOUR IDIOTIC SELF. Otherwise, I like you. And hey…

Dean grabbed the relatively small bartender and brought him close.

Dean Ambrose: Put a little amaretto in that diet coke. Sweeten up Mountie’s night, okay?

If Dean thought he was whispering, he was mistaken. Jericho heard every word, loud and clear. After pretending to clear his throat, Jericho leaned in next to Dean.

Chris Jericho: Uh… Dean? What are you doing?

Dean Ambrose: Making sure Lance Storm has a manlier drink than you so I can tell everyone at work. Only slightly more manly, mind you. I’m not an animal.

Jericho was torn. He knew how little Lance drunk, and he felt guilty about tricking his friend into drinking alcohol… but at the same time, he needed to find a way to pick Lance’s spirits up, and maybe a spirit was the way to do it. So he nodded to the bartender, giving his approval, then asked for another drink.

Chris Jericho: You know what, scratch the vodka. Give me a glass of your oldest whiskey… no ice.

Jericho looked across at Ambrose, smirking.

Chris Jericho: I’ve been drinking wrestlers under the table since you were still in the indies, junior.

Dean took his drink from the bartender and drank it in one.

Dean Ambrose: ...I was in the indies?

He slammed his glass on the bar. Not wanting to be outdone, Jericho did the same when the bartender handed him his drink.

Chris Jericho: Maybe it was someone who looked like you. Pretty sure he had pink hair… Anyway, did you want another drink before we er, “sweeten up Mountie’s night?” Your round.

Dean looked appalled.

Dean Ambrose: THAT IS LANCE STORM, YOU HEATHEN! HE IS A WRESTLING GENIUS. HERE, LANCE - I BOUGHT YA A DRINK!

He slid the drink down the bar, Western style. It collided slowly with Lance’s elbow. Lance removed his head from his hands.

Lance Storm: ...Thanks.

Lance took the tiniest sip from it. He fell off his stool. Jericho looked at Dean, shaking his head regretfully, then went to help Lance up.[/color]

Chris Jericho: Are you okay?!

Lance Storm: I AM JUST SO FILLED WITH ANGUISH. I FELT A GREAT DEPRESSION OVERWHELM ME FOR A MOMENT THERE.

After helping Lance to his feet, Jericho patted his partner on the shoulder.

Chris Jericho: It’s okay, buddy… it will all be okay. Chris is safely back in Calgary, and on Sunday, we’ll finish this. Punk and Styles might think they’ve gotten under our skins, but you and I know we’re better than them. We’re the greatest tag team the EBWF has ever seen, and we’ll prove that at Fanniversary. Those two reprobates don’t stand a chance.

Lance Storm: You’re right, man. I just keep having… flashbacks…

Dean put his arm around Lance, who quivered at the touch.

Dean Ambrose: That’s why I didn’t get you a diet coke. This is a new drink, made by… Wizards? It eases tension.

Lance looked at the drink with a sudden wave of optimism. He smiled a rare smile and washed it down in one.

-3 HOURS LATER-

Lance Storm: I’M GONNA NAME MY NEXT CAT AFTER YOUUUUUUU!

The wizard drinks had worked their magic, and somehow Dean, Lance and Chris had ended up in a Latin dance club called Karamba. Unsurprisingly, most of the customers were dressed up for Halloween, and Chris and Lance seemed to have got into the Halloween spirit - they both appeared to be dressed like Ambrose. Both Chris and Lance had ripped jeans on, Lance was wearing a grey vest top, and Chris was wearing a white shirt underneath a leather jacket. Chris was drinking a bright pink cocktail, but neither Dean nor Lance seemed to mind. It was clear that all three men were enjoying themselves.

Chris Jericho: IT’S LIKE BEING BACK ON DANCING WITH THE STARS! I LOVE IT!

Dean Ambrose: IT’S LIKE LAST NIGHT!

Lance Storm: IT’S LIKE… IT’S LIKE…

Lance grabbed Dean and Chris and had them stand in a circle with him.

Lance Storm: NOTHING I HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED IN MY LIFE.

Chris Jericho: DO YOU FEEL ALIVE, LANCE?

Before Lance could answer, “Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift hit. Lance’s head slowly turned towards the DJ - a man dressed in nothing but a pink feather boa - and their eyes met. The DJ nodded, and Lance’s face lit up.

Lance Storm: My...new…...THEME SONG!

Lance, however, had never really danced before. Pretend Sunday Night Heat was never a thing. He did not quite know how it worked. Instead, he signalled for the dancefloor to clear. Dean, realising what he was trying to do, stormed through the crowd of dancers and proceeded to ‘part the waves’. Lance took a deep breath as Dean signalled for him to take his place in the spotlight. However, Lance simply proceeded to walk through the corridor Lance had created amongst the people. He nodded at different clubbers as he made his way through them. He got to the end of the dancefloor - where another bar was - and stood on it. He raised his arms as if posing on a turnbuckle, jumped down and smiled. The song ended, and the crowd of people was left speechless. Chris and Dean went to the bar, and came back with shots of tequila. Chris handed the shots out, then prompted Dean and Lance to raise their glasses.

Chris Jericho: To making Fanniversary a night to remember!

Lance Storm: To getting those bastards back for what they did to Chris and Chris and Trent!

Dean Ambrose: Do I have a match?

Chris Jericho: Hold that thought, Jon. I want to request a song!

Chris downed his tequila shot, finished off his pink cocktail and headed towards the DJ booth.

Lance Storm: I swear to fucking GOD if this is Fozzy…

Jericho returned, grinning.

Chris Jericho: Wait for it… wait for it…

After the Latin song that had followed “Shake It Off” finished, “ChaChaLaLa” hit. A handful of people in the club recognised the song, but most of the attendees looked confused. Chris seemed to be enjoying the song more than anyone else, and raised his arms up and down as he danced.

Chris Jericho: DUH-DUH! DUH-DUH DUH-DUH, DUH-DUH, DUH-DUH! DUH-DUH DUH-DUHHH!

Dean and Lance looked at each other. Dean with a big cheesy grin on his face, Lance looking wholly unimpressed.

Lance Storm: THIS IS FOZZY, ISN’T IT?! YOU’RE TRYING YOUR HAND AT AT THE HISPANIC MARKET?!

Chris Jericho: It’s Fandango! He’s like the Harry Potter of the dancing world!

Lance took in the whole situation, and his fun, happy demeanour suddenly changed to a more familiar serious one.

Lance Storm: This has gone TOO FAR.

Lance grabbed Chris and slapped him in the face. Sensing trouble, one of the club bouncers approached them and tapped Lance on the shoulder.

Bouncer: Excuse me, is there-

Instinctively, Lance hit the bouncer with a Superkick! Suddenly, everything in the club seemed to come to a standstill and all eyes were on Jericho and Storm. Not wanting any trouble the night before one of the biggest pay per views on the EBWF calendar, Chris grabbed Lance and dragged him towards the exit.

Chris Jericho: You’re right, this has gone too far. Let’s get out of here.

Lance Storm: But… where’s Dean?!

Chris Jericho: He’ll be fine! We’ve gotta go!

The two Canadians frantically made their escape as chaos ensued. Beyond the bedlam, “Two Tribes” by Frankie Goes to Hollywood hit the speakers. Dean Ambrose, wearing nothing but a pink feather boa and the EBWF World Tag Team Championship belt around his waist, was Fandangoing in the DJ booth.

-THE MORNING AFTER-

Not wanting to disturb Jessica, Chris had stayed with Lance at the Hyatt Regency Hotel. He remembered that much, but he couldn’t remember how he got there. He couldn’t remember a lot about the night before, but he did have a splitting headache. As he woke up, Jericho groaned and looked across at Lance.

Lance Storm: What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve been awake for 3 hours. Sat. Waiting.

Chris felt hungover, and couldn’t help but resent Lance. How could someone who didn’t drink feel okay after the craziness of last night?

Chris Jericho: I’m sorry… I’m not used to feeling like this. Did I drink cocktails last night? Why didn’t I stick to Yeah Boys like I usually do?

ENTER AMBROSE.

Dean Ambrose: Weeellll this looks cozy.

He took his purple cowboy hat off and threw his maracas on Lance’s bed.

Dean Ambrose: How’re you two feeling?

Chris Jericho: I’ve felt better. Who was the wizard that made our drinks last night - fucking Voldemort?

Lance shot Chris a dirty look.

Dean Ambrose: I WAS THE WIZARD. Lance… Your diet cokes?

Lance Storm: Had Disaronno in them. I’m not an idiot. You two are idiots.

He stood up.

Lance Storm: Do we not have shit to do?

Begrudgingly, Jericho nodded.

Chris Jericho: We have to be at the arena in less than four hours, and I promised Wes we’d give him something they can use on the pre-show. I don’t think our antics from last night count, even if there is a video… which I pray to god there isn’t. I need a shower, and then it’s time to get serious. Any chance either of you guys can pull a cameraman out of your ass?

Dean Ambrose: Got one in my hotel room and one waiting for me near the entrance. Take your pick. There was one following me last night which caught everything on camera, also. You’re welcome.

Chris looked at Dean curiously.

Chris Jericho: I still can’t decide whether or not I like you. Give me five minutes to sort myself out and we’ll take whichever guy is closest.

A cameraman walked in.

Cameraman: You need a cameraman?

Dean Ambrose: Oh, Leroy. I forgot you were in town. These boys need some FACETIME.

Chris looked at Leroy sternly.

Chris Jericho: Not until after I’ve showered though. You try and film me in the bathroom, I’ll shove that camera so far up your ass you’ll be able to film your bowel movements before they happen. Capiche?

Chris walked to the bathroom and opened the door. He was greeted by a cameraman.

Cameraman #2: Oh hey. Is Dean around? Been looking for him EVERYWHERE.

Dean Ambrose: Doug! You too!? Aww guys!

Cameraman #1 looked distraught.

Chris Jericho: Okay, my head is spinning. You guys figure it out amongst yourselves… play rock/paper/scissors or something.

Chris went for a shower and when he returned, Doug had been given the honours. Forgetting his hangover and focusing on the task at hand, Jericho’s expression hardened.

Chris Jericho: Alright, let’s do this.

The camera started rolling and Jericho began to speak. He hadn’t prepared anything, he just spoke his mind.

Chris Jericho: Well here we are. Fanniversary is here, and for the first time ever, the Intercontinental and Path To Glory Championships will be defended in the same match. A “No Holds Barred” tag match featuring four former World Champions… it has “slobberknocker” written all over it. Even Wes himself is thinking “shut up and take my money”, because he knows what a great match this will be. But I’m not thinking about any of that. I’m thinking about one thing only: retribution.

Lance entered the shot.

Lance Storm: Retribution is right, Chris. I’ve been known to have a very lax attitude towards the EBWF, especially over the past few years. I’ve promised a lot and delivered little. But CM Punk and AJ Styles… You lit a fire in this old Canadian miser that hasn’t been aflame in years. You… you… Took something that was so precious to me. You hit me where it hurts. And while you two - particularly AJ - aren’t used to proper retribution for your actions… Me and Chris are people who hit you back.

Chris Jericho: When Lance first came back to EBWF, he picked out Trent as our protege. Trent is another former World Champion, a guy with a ton of potential that just needs to learn how to focus. And I’ll be the first to admit, maybe at times he’s been riding on our coattails, but one thing I’ve never questioned is the kid’s heart. So Punk, AJ, answer me this. Did he really deserve to be treated the way you treated him? A Styles Clash onto a steel chair, concussing him and taking him out of action indefinitely? Does that give you sick sons of bitches a sense of satisfaction, hurting another human being like that?

Lance Storm: Now now, Chris. We’ve been through a lot over the years. Are you telling me you’ve never taken pleasure in battering and bruising another man’s body?

Chris Jericho: Of course not. You remember the Fed Ex days as well as I do. But here’s the difference - when we took someone out, we always had a reason for it. And it normally involved getting closer to the World Title. If you check the title history on EBWF.net, there’s still an entry from 2009 that says I took the World Title “by force”. When I batter and bruise someone, not only is there a purpose, there’s an accomplishment at the end of it. AJ and Punk haven’t accomplished a damn thing by what they did to Trent, unless you count the fact that they’ve given us a reason to hurt them back.

Lance Storm: Chris… They’ve gotten to us on a personal level as well. They’ve hit us where it hurts - by attacking things we are loyal to and that are loyal to us. The sad thing is is that they think that means they’re one step ahead of us. They think they’ve hurt us. Sad… As they’re going to regret ever giving us a reason to rip them limb from limb.

Chris Jericho: See Lance, I think that’s the problem we have. People think of us as old timers who are past their prime, and they don’t consider us a threat. What they forget is that we have a dangerous side that’s waiting to come out. Maybe we haven’t shown it as much as we should have, but that’s because we had a different focus. Like I said before, we put our energy into building up Trent. But that didn’t stop me from becoming the Wrestler of the Year, it didn’t stop us from being named Alliance of the Year - and you have the nerve to suggest that we’re not relevant? Maybe not everyone can see it, but the fans and superstars who have sense realise what we are. We’re legends, and when I call us that, I don’t people to think of us in the same way as they think of the likes of Ricky Steamboat and Shawn Michaels. Because with all due respect to Ricky and Shawn, we’re still here. We’re still competing in the ring, we’re legends that can still deliver. All the best legends were legends in their own time, and our time ain’t over yet. What are you two in comparison, really? Punk, in 2012 and 2013, you were the EBWF’s top guy. But right now, you’re in the same position as me. You’re a champion, but you’re not the World Champion. You’re no more the future than I am. People call the Path To Glory Championship your title, because you were the first champion. But isn’t that both a blessing and a curse? When you became the PTG Champion five years ago, it was seen as a stepping stone to the World Title. Here you are five years later in the same position. It’s not so much a stepping stone as a safety rock. You could even argue that the PTG Title is EBWF’s third tier title, after the Intercontinental Title. Sure you can cash it in for a World Title shot, but if I went to Stone Cold Steve Austin and offered to trade in my title for a shot at The Miz, I’m sure he’d oblige. He’s seen what I’ve done with the Intercontinental Championship, and he knows I’m as deserving of a World Title shot as anyone else on the roster.

Lance Storm: MORE deserving.

Chris Jericho: You always say stuff like that, Lance… thank you, but that’s not really the point I’m trying to make. The point I’m trying to make is this - I’ll go after the World Title when I’m good and ready to. When we beat you tonight, and Lance becomes the new PTG Champion, you’ll be at the back of the line for a World Title shot, Punk. And as for you, AJ... you act like you're God's gift to wrestling, even though you're probably the most hated man in EBWF history. Seriously, no one likes you - not even your former allies, The Miz and Ted DiBiase. They’re not very popular either, but compared to you... I mean, imagine being more hated than The Miz. What must that be like? And I know in this business, it doesn't always matter if you’re liked as long as you’re respected, but you’re neither. No one respects you because of your attitude, your habitual drug use, the way you treat women. You’re your own worst enemy, and every ounce of talent you have is damaged by everything else. You're probably on your last chance now, AJ. If Wes gives up on you again, you’re finished. And the worst part is, no one would even miss you. If you think you’re getting anywhere near my Intercontinental Title, think again. The closest you’ll come to the gold is when I bash it into your school and make you bleed for what you did to Trent.

Lance nudged Chris.

Chris Jericho: And Chris the cat… how desperate are you to be devious, AJ? Do you think of yourself as Brian Kendrick lite?

Lance Storm: We knew a Brian Kendrick once, and he was twice the man either of you are. And when I take that Path to Glory Championship from you, Punk… Well. I’ve had my moment in the spotlight, and I respect that EBWF Championship more than you can imagine. So I will defend that championship until one of two things happens… Either until the day I retire, or the day one of you two sorry excuses for human excrement become the World Champion. If that dreaded day ever comes, only then will I use that belt to save the EBWF from having either of you scum as it’s standard bearer.

Chris nodded, solemnly.

Chris Jericho: Do you know what I hate most about you, AJ? It’s that you’re more arrogant than CM Punk, which I didn’t think was possible until your sorry as came crawling back to EBWF. Now I don’t mind arrogance, but you need to back it up. And before you start bragging about your three World Titles, about main eventing WrestleMania, let’s look at the facts. First of all, last year you were the very definition of a transitional champion. The powers that be made the mistake of not trusting Trent, despite the fact that he stopped Randy Orton when Orton was at the top of his game. Trent felt the burden of being champion and you took advantage, creeping in there and stealing a victory. But you couldn’t make it to WrestleMania, could you? Brock Lesnar came along and spoiled the party. Then this year, you got to be champion again - you beat another champion the brass didn’t have full faith in, Solomon Crowe. You got the WrestleMania main event match that was stolen from you last year, and what happened? You lost to Dolph Ziggler… you had your moment and you choked. Again.

Jericho’s Canadian accent came through as he emphasised the word “again”.

Chris Jericho: Like I said before, despite your talent, your attitude and your mentality lets you down. You think you’re doing this business a favour, but it’s the other way around. EBWF is doing you a favour by letting you giving you another chance when you’d burned your bridges. The fans are giving you a favour by reacting to you, whether they love you or they hate you. If you left the EBWF, the world would keep on turning - it did the last time you left. You’ve had some great matches here, you’ve been one of the top guys, hell you’ve even beaten me… but right now, your romantic life is making more headlines than you are. Wasn’t CM Punk linked with Ronda Rousey a few months ago? Do you guys share women now too? I mean I know between you, you’ve gone through most of the women’s locker room at one point or another, but at the same time… that’s a new one.

Lance Storm: And that’s exactly why - for the first time in my professional life - I feel like one of the heroes in all this. After years of boos - and cheers for the wrong reasons - I get to be the one who takes down the disrespectful, abusive, egocentric little bitches who millions of people around the world just want to see get hurt. Y’see, we’ve been the rebels. We’ve been the villains. We’ve been the one causing the EBWF brass to lose sleep. But somehow… We’re nothing like you. Actually… You’re just nothing like us. And you never, ever will be.

Chris Jericho: AJ, Punk, do you know what the other difference between us is? You two are an unstable alliance. You might be united by a common goal for now, but your personalities clash. The Straight Edge Savior and the Mary Jane Maniac… you couldn’t make it up. Sooner or later, something is going to break. But with Lance and I, our bond is unbreakable. We have over 50 years experience in this business between us, we know each other better than anyone else knows us. We are the Thrillseekers, and maybe that doesn’t mean a lot to you, but it sure as hell means something to us. You’ll see how much all of this means to us tonight, you’ll see how determined we are to seek retribution. But you won’t just see it, you’ll feel it. We’ll make damn sure of that.

Jericho and Storm stared into the camera as the scene faded.

[Will]

I loved this RP. I got a few good laughs. You guys are a hellva team and it was a pleasure. Good luck.

[Ashlee]

I laughed until I cried. haha