I WON'T STAND FOR THIS!

[Randy Orton]

FCW camera crews are backstage where an interview is set to take place that will air on FCW.com. Todd Grisham is standing by with former world champion Randy Orton. Orton does not look pleased. Grisham cautiously begins the interview,

"Well, Randy you do not look happy with the way things turned out for you at Last Resort..."

Orton grabs the mic."Don't look happy? That's a new level of stupidity even for you Grisham. The fact that I am not standing here the undisputed champion of the world is nothing less than an absolute travesty. The fact is I was the favorite going into that match. I have done more damage than any superstar in FCW history. I have climbed to new levels of brutality."

"I single handedly destroyed the competition, claiming the world title. Then it was stolen from me. I lost it without being pinned. To top it all off, I get my rematch having to face three opponents. And what happened in the match? I took out Edge. I took out Gimmick. And make no mistake about it, it was me that took out Gimmick not Parise."

"And after all that, Parise that little maggot, took advantage of my hard work to blindside me. The whole world knew I would emerge with that world title. Me not being champion is tantamount to the person with the most votes not being president. Everyone knows that I am the best here. I am the best in the world. I am the most dominant athlete of my era. And now somehow, I'm ranked number four in the phony ratings? So you tell me Todd, do I not look happy?"

"Well, I didn't mean to offend you Randy. I guess the next question is, where do you go from here, what's next for the legend killer?

Before he can answer, Orton notices a look of surprise in Todd's eyes, as he jumps back. Too late.

[Jimmy Gimmick]

*He had been watching, waiting, lurking furtively through the darkness in the dimly lit backstage area. Creeping like a spider allowing Randy to get caught in his web, the prey he stalked talked, empty words that’s all Gimmick heard. Randy hadn’t beaten him, he hadn’t beaten him at Last Resort, much like he hadn’t beaten him at Second Coming. The condescending prick stood focused on Grisham, the camera, the spotlight, why did they always want to hear from Randy Orton anyway? What was it that allowed Orton to effortlessly captivate the media? He always had people watching his actions, always had people acknowledging him, than again so should Gimmick.
It was Orton who had stolen the FCW World Heavyweight Championship from him on two occasions, it was all a fucking conspiracy. Parise and Orton they were working together, the apprentice played his part to perfection deceiving a great mind, Gimmick’s own for that matter. Parise was the rat, Orton was the snake…the viper.*

“If you weren’t happy before I’d hate to know how you feel know.”

*A low whisper, but Gimmick’s rebuttal to Orton's final statement had it's intended impact, Todd had seen him, but he was too stupid to give much of an indication. Orton had been standing before him, preaching his usual brand of insolent bullshit, he had it coming. The arm of Gimmick wrapped around the throat of the off-guard Legend Killer, Gimmick used Orton’s jump backwards as momentum to drag him into the shadows in which he had been concealed.*

“This is your fault Randy!”

*Gimmick shouts as he struggles to choke Randy Orton out, the face of his enemy was turning a dark shade of red as he jabbed an elbow into the rib cage of Gimmick loosening his grip. With Gimmick caught momentarily weakened Orton took advantage pinning his attacker against the wall, the camera crew had now filled the once dark area with light, spit flew from Gimmick’s mouth as he writhed to escape the grasp of the former World Champion. Than came a swift kick, right below the belt Gimmick had forced Orton to his knees, breathing so heavily he was nearly hyperventilating Gimmick moved around his prey shoving Grisham whilst prying the mic he carried with him from his hands.
On his knees Orton tried futilely to return to his feet or escape the web Gimmick had enticed him in. A rapid movement by Gimmick at first that was all the audience saw, again, now it became clear the mic of Todd Grisham was being drilled into the skull of Randy Orton. Gimmick whimpered as the sound of static filled the broadcast, a final shot with the mic and Orton slowly dropped from his knees to the floor.*

“Look what you made me do Randy… look what you did to me!”

*Gimmick’s nonsensical rambling proves barely audible over the sound of static as he looks to his hands, there’s spots of blood. The camera pans over to Orton who lays face up on the floor, no more than a thin trickle is running down from his forehead, but the deep crimson is unmistakable it’s blood. He had never drawn it before, there was something about seeing the damage he had done to another man in this form, it was startling. Shaking, his hands lose their grip on the microphone and it drops to the floor allowing one final sound of static to erupt. A chill runs down the spine of Gimmick, he visible trembles before turning and storming off down the hallway away from Orton, away from the cameras, away from the blood.*

(End of RP)