I sat in my office, eagerly anticipating the WWE championship match between CM Punk and The rock. So far the show has gone great. I am disappointed about the fact they gave John Cena another Royal Rumble victory. I mean really? Dolph Ziggler deserved that win, not Cena. I have nothing against Cena, I just don’t like him. I don’t like anyone I work with, since I now know that they all despise me. All the divas are skanks, the men are dicks and my bosses; especially John Laurinaitis are irritating. Everyone now treats me like shit. Not only Phil, but now Dwayne does. Whenever he sees me he just goes ahead and insults me. Every decision I have made as GM he just adds his two sense worth. And according to him, I only got the job because I love to ‘spread my legs.’
I missed being a wrestler but women these days get two minute matches; I was fed up with this and decided to complain to the board of directors. This is what led them to making me the general manager, at least, I think it was. I may now have authority, but no one cares about it. I am literally on the verge of killing someone.
The match just started. I sit on my couch and start eating out of my nutella jar. The match was going alright, they are fighting ringside. Punk has the upper hand. For some reason he placed the protective covering back on the Spanish announce table, which was a respectful gesture. I find it funny that the Spanish announce table always gets destroyed. I do feel sorry for the commentators though. I heard a knock on my door. I groaned.
“Come in!” It was Sheamus. I never really talk to Sheamus, I wonder what he wants. I gave him a smile. “What’s up?”
“Nothing fella, I just wanted to know who will be my opponent tomorrow on Raw.” I went over to my desk and looked through all my paperwork and found Raw’s time sheet, all the matches were already on it. I looked for Sheamus’ match.
“Well, it looks like you will face Damien Sandow. But tomorrow is Raw roulette, so I don’t know what the stipulation will be.” He looks very happy.
“That’s great fella.” He pats my shoulder and notices the match on TV. “Hey can I watch this with you?”
“Yeah sure.” We sat on the couch and watched the match. Punk still has the upper hand. He is kicking Dwayne’s ass. I laughed. Sheamus stares at me.
“So, who are you rooting for, fella?”
“I don’t know. I really hate these guys, so I can care less...” He looks confused.
“Why do you hate them?”
“Umm, they both think I’m a slut and love sleeping with men to get what I want…” He raises his red eyebrow.
“Why do they think that?”
“Well, they think that I slept with the board of directors to get this job. Hell, everyone thinks that. They think that just because I am a woman, I just have to sleep around with everyone. When in fact they don’t even know me. People are just so fucking judgmental these days.” I snapped. Sheamus just sat there. He rubbed his chin.
“I don’t think you are a slut. I’ll be completely honest with you. I saw you crying the other day, over what Phil said. I didn’t hear the conversation, but I knew that it was intense. Everyone saw you, but don’t even bother to comfort you. I would have, but I had a match.” I cut him off.
“I get it alright. People don’t like me for some ridiculous reason. But they can go fuck themselves. I am the general manager now. I can fire them if I wanted to. After that what will they say about me then? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So in answer to your question. I am rooting for no one. They can all go fuck themselves…” He didn’t say anything, but something was definitely on his mind.
“I’m sorry, I have to go.” He left very quickly. I didn’t care. I just continued watching the match. Everything went black, and then the image of Dwayne's body was seen crushed through the announce table. I grinned. Must of been the shield's handy work. Those guys are pretty hot, especially Ambrose.
Phil won, somehow. I rolled my eyes. Vince’s music hits. The crowd erupts with cheers, they know what's coming. He is seconds away from stripping Phil, until Dwayne opens his big mouth and requested that they restart the match. Since when does he have the authority to restart matches?
He then hits the most stupid move in sports entertainment history and wins. That’s how you end a four hundred and thirty four day title reign? I might not like Phil, but still, one fucking elbow drop! He’s probably going to bitch to me about this in a second.
I sat at my desk, going over tomorrow’s script. Looks like the only thing I’m doing is spinning the wheel. Great! I laid my head on the table, and then someone barges into my office. I looked up and what do you know. It was Phil. He looked extremely pissed. I rolled my eyes.
“What do you want Phil?” He glares at me.
“What do I want? I want you to do your job and reverse the decision.” I raise my eyebrows and started laughing.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to reverse the decision. Wow. Do you honestly expect me to do that? After the way you and everyone else have been treating me, you can go fuck yourself. Now get the fuck out of my office, Phil.” I yelled. He smirked.
“No! I will not leave your office until you reverse the decision, give me back my title and show me some fucking respect! And another thing, the reason I treat you like shit is because I just don’t like you. You are just like every over diva. You are fake. And like I said on Monday; you are a fucking slut...” I slapped him in his face, pretty hard again. He almost lost his balance. He had his hand on his face and stared at me. He had his fist clenched. He turned around and stormed out. He slammed the door shut. I placed my head onto the table and started to cry. Why does he keep calling me a slut? I am fed up. Tomorrow, they are all going to pay.
