The show came back to the ring, a table covered with red cups standing dead center and the Tag Team Champions next to it, looking proud of themselves. Bryan and Jericho stood opposite of them, the Oregon native looking suspicious of the team as Lucky just grinner benignly. Gesturing for a microphone, Bryan spoke first.
“We’re supposed to have a match…”
“Yeah, cuz, I know, but beer pong is more fun,” Devon replied quickly, nudging tHURTeen with his elbow who then nodded his agreement.
Daniel looked dubious as he picked up a cup of beer and smelled it, “How do I know this beer is vegan?”
Before he blink, Lucky dutifully stepped up and snatched the beer from him, tossing it back without stopping then grabbing the mic from Moore, “It’s vegan. Definately. Most vegan beer ever. Sure.”
“Alright, assclowns, if you’re all done fooling around, can we get this over with?” Jericho griped, grabbing a ping pong ball from the basket next to the table and bouncing it, landing in a glass with a small splash, “You, loser with the funny hat, you’re drinkin’ that one.”
Moore shrugged and grabbed the cup, drinking the beer then bouncing two balls at once, landing them both, “I think I want Greenpeace to shotgun’m.”
Bryan was hesitant, but he reached over to grab the beers nonetheless only to have Moore grab a handful of his trunks and the back of his shirt and sweep him across the table, cups and all. Jericho reacted on instinct alone, going to nail Lucky who’d gone on the attack, but the smaller man ducked, letting the Canadian veteran stumble straight into Dev’s right hand. With Jericho stunned, Lucky toed him in the gut, Dev doing the same to a recovering Bryan as they set them up for suplexes on opposite sides of the table. At the same time, they brought them both back and over, putting them both through the beer soaked table, then standing tall over the dysfunctional team before slapping hands in celebration as the show drew to a close.
"Unfortunately I was not medically cleared tonight. That’s the sad outcome of head smacking off concrete the way mine did. The good news however is that I won’t be sidelined beyond this week. I will be in the ring on the next TNR and I will be proving that I deserve my title." Stepping into frame the pint sized champion smiled softly at the camera eyes still darkened from the broken nose she also received at the hands of Shelly. "The bad news, well, there really isnt any unless your name is Shelly."
She shrugged lightly as the corners of her smile twitched almost as if the perpetually happy diva was fighting back a sneer but refused to concede it. “I know a few people probably applauded what you did Shell and maybe a few more thought I deserved what happened and that’s something I can live with. People aren’t always going to agree with the choices I make in life. That’s the fun of life ya know? But if you think I’m just gonna get blindsided by someone who’s proved that while they can run their mouth and promise non stop amounts of violence they’re completely incapable of getting things done in the ring, you’re crazier than I first imagined.”
"Nothing about your response is in proportion but you clearly don’t care about that. Dev isn’t ever going to give two hoots about what happened so you can’t lash out at him repeatedly but you can at me. You think because I’m small and bright that I’m an easy target or that I’ll just accept what you’re doing, that you can get away with pushing but you can’t. I’ve beat you in the ring and in the long run I’m going to beat you at this game. You might be holding my belt right now but it is still MY belt. I am still the champion and I’m going to get my title back whether I have to pry it from your fingers or you toss it at my feet and flee." She stepped closer to the camera determination setting into her features.
"People think because a person is always nice or always smiley they can’t dislike someone. People like to throw around lines like "nice people don’t do that!" or "they have to be hiding something!". Well let me share with you a couple facts Shelly. Nice people can do everything anyone else can and it doesn’t change who they fundamentally are. I’m nice. I’m one of the nicest people you’re ever gonna meet. I try and live each day with a smile and kind words for all of those around me but I have the capacity for un-nice moments and come the next TNR, come the next time I see you Shelly? I’m going to prove exactly that."
Ringside, Layla and Maryse had both settled in next to the announce table, chatting in a friendly manner with one another as Punk and Gargano stood across from each other in the ring. The two men were smirking at each other, the atmosphere making it clear that this contest was between friends despite both men having participated in the Superstars Money in the Bank match at the pay-per-view. Nodding to each other, the two men slapped hands in the middle of the ring as the bell rang.
It started off playfully, Johnny coming out on top of a lock-up and managing to get in a wristlock that he used to twist Punk’s arm behind his back. The straight edge male grimaced, but only took a moment to reverse it and hit and arm drag to flip Gargano onto the mat before hopping to his feet with a grin. Shaking out his arm, he waited for Johnny to climb back to his feet as well and shook a finger.
“Gonna have to do better than that!” His taunt was met with a shake of the head from Gargano, the two circling before going for a lock up again. This time Punk came out with the advantage in the form of an armbar. He looked to be going for an arm wrench but it was Johnny’s turn to counter out, yanking Punk down in an arm drag much like he’d been before and promptly going for a headlock which the wrestling vet managed to escape.
The two men continued in this fashion for a few minutes, passing back and forth between each other in a series of submissions and counters. It was clear they were trying to show the other up as well as get a chance to use their signature submission holds with little success. Eventually, Punk came out of no where with a roundhouse kick to Gargano’s head to end the cycle of holds and counters. As the younger superstar dropped to the mat, he stared down at him before shrugging and leaning down to pull him back to his feet.
Halfway up, Johnny surged forward to drive Punk back into the nearest corner, the wind being knocked out of him by the impact. Gargano quickly pulled back, catching Punk’s arm to whip him across the ring to the other turnbuckle and running after him. Instead of hitting the turnbuckle, however, Punk lifted himself up and jumped back over the top of Gargano’s head. Dropping to the mat, he used the other’s brief surprise to his advantage and went for a roll-up, which Johnny then kicked out of, rolling over onto his feet.
As Punk took his time to get back up from the mat, Gargano hit the ropes and came back with a running cutter. The crowd cheered as he went for a pin, only for the other to kick out at the count of two. Punk could be seen shaking the effects of the move off as Johnny got back to his feet, the cameras blinking to the outside of the ring to show Layla and Maryse engrossed in watching the match and nudging each other as they betted on their men.
Climbing to his feet more quickly this time, Punk was quick to counter another incoming attack from Johnny, hitting a rolling neckbreaker. Instead of going for a pin like the other had, however, he headed for the turnbuckle and started to climb. Clearly intending to do a little showing off, Punk was unaware of the other getting back to his feet until Johnny’s formarm slammed into his back. As he dropped to shit precariously on the top rope, Gargano jumped up to his a double knee backbreaker that layed Punk out for another pin attempt, the ring veteran kicking out yet again and shoving Johnny away before rolling out of the ring entirely, gripping his back.
“Where ya going?” Johnny could be heard calling after him, not receiving a response and only giving the other a brief moment for recovery before going for a suicide dive over the top rope. Punk saw it coming, however, dodging out of the way and leaving Johnny to connect with nothing other than the ground and barrier around the ringside area.
Seeing his chance, Punk dragged Johnny up from the matted floor and over his shoulders. The crowd, sensing what was coming next as he moved nearer the ring barrier, began to exploded in a mixed reaction of boos and cheers. Punk ignored all of them, hitting the GTS with the barrier in place of his knee. He caught Johnny onto his shoulders again as the man reeled a moment, turning and repeating the process using the ring apron before catching his opponent to throw back into the ring and sliding in after him.
Dusting his hands off, Punk stared down at the younger man before shrugging at the crowd and dropping down for a lazy pin. Gargano managed to kick out right before the count of three, prompting Punk to immediately roll back to his feet and drag him up as well. As he set up for another GTS, Johnny managed to counter out of it and hit his own finisher, going for the pin.
Punk’s foot lifted onto the rope right before the three count, but the referee was unaware of the action and called for the bell. As both men sat up, the younger beaming with his victory and the older frowning at the clear slight of the official, the girls slid into the ring. A moment passed before Punk’s expression cleared into a smirk and he shook his head at something Maryse was saying, rolling out of the ring and waiting for her to slide out as well before heading up the ramp as RAW faded away from ringside.
The audiences’ eyes were allowed to follow the neat row of beer cans as the camera panned the shot, slowly getting to the end after some ten or eleven cans, each placed more crooked than the last. A loud belch was heard, followed by the obnoxious laughter of Devon Moore, who the camera now focused on. Moore looked smug, pointing to the camera with one half of the tag belts across his shoulder, slapping the broad face of it to get the attention of whomever, but only causing Lucky13 to jump to attention, looking around bleary eyed as though he expected someone to attack.
“What’d you do that for?” he asked him, a pronounced slur in his words, focusing hard on Devon despite only being inches from him, even reaching out to steady him with a hand on his belt-free shoulder, “Oh! The people! The people are here.. to do the thing, the what d’ya call it? The kajigger?”
“Dude, you’re fuckin’ wasted,” Moore laughed raucously, looking down at his wrist only for there to be no watch there, bringing it to his ear to listen for a second before shaking his head, “It doesn’t matter… Told ya you couldn’t hold your booze, midgetfuck! Where’s my fiddy bones?”
“I’m good for it, man, I’ll get it after the show… I just gotta get some bubble gum to Ol’ Haitch and the wife,” he waved him off, going to stand and swaying terribly.
Devon stood, too, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, “You fuckin’ short me my scratch, I’mma come after you and get you, you hear me? Fuckin’ no good, broke ass li’l bitch lovin’ fuck…”
Lucky stumbled as Devon shoved him away, blinking hard as he caught himself on the wall, using it to regain his balance, “Man, you fuckin’ know I’m good for this shit! Don’t start your shit tonight… Oh, fuck, wait… Don’t we have a match? Fuck.. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Devon looked at his ‘watch’ again, getting angry when hear heard no ticking, “Goddamn thing’s broken, man, I don’t fuckin’ know!”
Lucky began to pace, though it was crooked and uneven due to how inebriated he already was and he actually began to feel motion sick from it, so he stopped and braced himself against the nearest wall to hyperventilate.
“We can’t fuckin’ wrestle like this, Dev! Ain’t no fuckin’ way!”
“Just shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Devon barked back, glaring at him before his face brightened considerably, but that could be potentially dangerous with a man like Devon Moore. “I got an idea, but you need to shut the fuck up, calm the fuck down, and get fuckin’ straight… and get me some goddamn red solo cups and ping pong balls.”
Devon was out of the room before Lucky could question him, but he looked to the camera with a shrug and mouthed “beer pong?” before leaving as well.
As TNR moved to ringside the never afraid to be vocal Veda Scott was already standing inside the ring with a microphone in hand and a sneer on her face as she watched Su make her way down the entrance ramp, a sneer of her own in place. Stopping at the bottom of the ramp she waved one of her chopstick shanks in Veda’s direction visually reminding her of the threat she’d made leading up to their match but whatever response she’d expected it wasn’t the one she got because instead of lifting the microphone to run the other woman down Veda took off at a sprint and dove between the middle and top ropes and tackled Su to the ground with a suicide dive before climbing to her feet and then chucking the microphone she still held in hand at the other woman’s body.
Not one to simply take that kind of abuse Su quickly scrambled to her own feet and launched herself at Veda and both women crashed back to the floor again before each attempted to gain control of the situation. As the cat fight continued the referee slipped from the ring and attempted to pull the two women away from each other. Instead of accomplishing this task though all he got was a wild elbow from Veda and a chopstick to the hand from Su leaving him to recoil away from the two women as they continued to heave blows at the others face.
Landing a hard shot to Su’s nose Veda pulled herself away from the violent Asian and stood to her feet looking ready to continue the assault when the sudden boos of the crowd caught her attention. Turning towards the ramp in confusion the red heads eyes went wide before her jaw set and she took a step back, her body bumping into the ring apron, as Dean Ambrose made his way slowly down the ramp.
Knowing better than to engage him Veda had turned to roll inside the ring to put more distance between them when Su suddenly snatched onto her and kept her in place a smirk on her face as she did it. Trying to kick free made sure to keep her attention on both of them and only just managed to get free of Su by the time Dean hit the bottom of the ramp. Scrambling into the ring she moved to the far side of it only to let out a relieved breath when Dean suddenly went stumbling as the lanky frame of Chuck Taylor barreled into him from behind before sliding into the ring himself after his girlfriend. Snatching her by the arm he rolled out of the ring from the far side and tugged her with him waisting no time before grabbing her by the waist and lifting her up and over the barricade and then hopped it himself. Now far enough from the demented twosome to breathe easily Veda put a hand on the small of Chuck’s back trying to calm him before tugging at his hand as they moved farther into the crowd the camera’s just close enough to hear her promise that things between her and Su weren’t done yet.
The camera shifted to the backstage area, catching Jake Carter as he walked out of the locker room. Now he was in his street clothes, duffel bag in hand. Jake shot the camera a grin then winked as he looked to either side before starting to walk toward the parking garage. A few steps into his brief journey and Renee Young was hot on his heels. “Jake!” She called out, jake simply lifting his free hand to acknowledge her. “Walk and talk yo.” Renee caught up and she began walking backwards to interview the generational star. “So Jake, tell us about Money In The Bank.” Jake shrugged as he continued to walk. “I could tell you a lot of things, Ziggler won the title, as everyone knows by now, Punk won the case, Rhodes lost, the nation of Drunk won the tag titles, Bliss kept her belt, and AK won her brief case.”
Renee nodded as they continued down the long cluttered corridor. “That’s true but what we want to hear about is YOUR Money in the bank.” Again, Jake shrugged. “I lost. Par for the course really, I mean, pretty common thing for me to go in, DOMINATE and still lose. Guy with a tablet.”
Jake pushed Renee to the far side of the corridor as a stagehand walked by consumed by his work on his touch screen device. “You should probably walk facing the right way.” Renee took the advice now facing forward and trying to walk in step with him. “Jake, you performed incredibly well at the pay per view, but in the middle of you match, you lifted Sami Callahan’s shoulder for him. It was evident that you had the match won, care to elaborate on that incident?”
“Nope.” Jake responded flatly. “Renee, we’ve had plenty of talks right? This way…” Jake took a sudden right and Renee followed. “So you gotta think, you probably understand at least SOME of my motives. I didn’t like that ending. Sure I woulda won, but what good is a story where the hero wins that quick. I wanted to cement that I was better. I did that. I tore Callihan from one side to the other. Guy had to go to the back and put a death grip on his title. He knows I can take it from him now.”
Renee shook her head as Jake began to dig in his pocket producing a car key, pressing the key fob causing a car to honk a short distance away.
“Jake, you gave up the title because you’re prideful, because you didn’t want to win a certain way? Isn’t that a bit… dumb?”
“Yea, probably but everyone’s got their hubris Nea.” They arrived at the back of a white Dodge Challenger as the trunk opened, Jake tossing in his bag. “People without flaws are boring.” he said as he closed the trunk and walked to the driver’s side. The adjacent parking space was empty so Renee and the cameraman followed as Jake entered his vehicle and lowered the window.
“Money in the Bank doesn’t matter anymore. You gotta realize that if you can beat the guy on top, he isn’t the best. Sami knows that, I know that, pretty sure that Rhodes, Dolph, and Chuck know that. Champs have the advantage for a reason. Cuz you can stay at the top cause of luck. The dudes chasing you, they gotta be stronger, faster and smarter just to catch up. So….”
Jake put the car into gear and backed out of the parking space. “I proved I’m all those things, Now Sami’s gonna clutch his belt like its his only lifeline, rocking back and forth like a mental patient. I’m not even mad, Later Renee.”
Jake gave an off handed wave and drove away, honking as he rounded the curve.
Renee turned back to the camera. “Jake Carter Ladies and gentlemen, back to you.”
The match begins rather evenly, with Summer and Britani fighting it out back and forth before a tag is made to Maryse. Buggy gets tagged in shortly after. Buggy and Maryse battle with each other for a few minutes before Buggy gets the hot tag on Britani, who levels Maryse with a clothesline.
Summer comes in and breaks a pin attempt, then is forced back to the outside by the ref. Maryse fights out of a headlock and gets the tag in. Summer manages to pin Britani for a two count, but Buggy breaks the pin. Maryse runs in and the match breaks down to the point that all four women have to be separated and the match ends in a no contest.
“It’s really not meant to be a make up kit, you know.” Punk’s exasperated yet amused voice could be heard as cameras turned backstage, showing him leaning up against the wall as the French-Canadian beauty Maryse sat atop a storage container. In front of her was the Money in the Bank briefcase, open wide as she stared with intensity at something inside, touching up her make up.
“Well, what else are you supposed to use it for until you want to be champion, hm?” She asked smartly, glancing up at him with a thin smile as he just shook his head. “It doesn’t really bother you does it, monsieur?”
“Not nearly as much as I know it probably bothers half a dozen others.” Punk smirked, winking at the blond. “Which is the only reason I put up with your insistent demands to ‘make use’ of it.”
“But really it is because you want me to look my best, no?” Maryse asked with a returning smile, straightening up and gesturing at her features. “A man destined to make history again needs a beautiful and powerful woman at his side.”
“I’m sorry, Maurice. The position as my wife has been filled already by the not-so-Jamacian.” The statement earned a laugh from the blond as the alluded to male walked into the frame, Kofi Kingston looking between the couple with a puzzled expression as Punk looked back at him before breaking down into laughter himself.
“…Did I catch you two at a bad time, or—?”
“No, you have perfect timing man.” Punk reassured the high-flyer once he’d recovered from his amusement. “I was just telling Maurice here that I only have room enough in my life for one wife.”
“Ahhh, yeah. Hands off there, blondie.” Kofi winked at Maryse before shaking his head with a laugh and turning to clap Punk on the shoulder. “Why aren’t you warming up yet, man? Don’t you have a match against Johnny?”
“I am warming up. Do you see this woman? Plenty warm.”
“Oh, mon ami. You flatter me.” Maryse smiled, brushing her hair over her shoulder with a little flair as she closed the briefcase. “Please, continue.”
“Maybe later,” winking at the Diva, Punk reached over to pat the briefcase, “the wife has a point, I need to do some warm ups. Will you keep this beauty safe in the meantime?”
“Oui, if you must…” Maryse sighed dramatically, a smile playing at her lips as she slid off the crate and picked up the briefcase. Pressing a kiss to Punk’s cheek on her way by, she winked herself. “We’ll stay in earshot in case you decide you want it.”
“…Dude.” Kofi muttered in appreciation as the two men watched the French Canadian beauty leave. Punk’s head tilted a little to the side and he smirked before clapping the high flyer on the shoulder as the cameras turned away.
“I’ll succeed in teaching you my ways sooner or later, young padawan.”
Allysin Kay made Shelly Martinez submit with a modified gogoplata.