____________________________________________________________

"So, what you're saying is...you're worthless..." the man said, an expression of such smugness on his face that the woman to whom he was speaking wanted nothing more than to just smack it off.

"You can't wrestle yet for another two months, so..."  He reached out with one grubby hand to finger her long red locks.

Lita cringed somewhat, not really wanting to alert Eric Bischoff as to how very disgusted she felt at that moment.  It was not the first time since the RAW General Manager had entered the ring and interrupted her that he'd touched her hair.  She felt as though she desperately needed a shampooing - in the worst possible way.

She shifted her hazel eyes, and they hardened with contempt as she met his brown ones.  His own eyes seemed to sparkle with an evil glee.  God, how this man sickened her.

A moment or so ago, the redhead had made her way to the ring after being announced by her friend and co-announcer on Sunday Night Heat, Jonathan Coachman.  Coach had been about to interview her, as she intended to make an announcement about her physical condition.  Dr. Lloyd Youngblood, who'd performed her neck surgery a year earlier, had just recently cleared her to return to training - and she would be at one-hundred percent in July to return to in-ring action altogether.

Lita had just announced the latter to the world when the GM's music had suddenly blasted throughout the arena.  She had to admit, she wasn't surprised.  The last time she'd been on RAW, the man had shown up and sent his goons Three Minute Warning on her.

But this time was actually different... He wasn't sending a couple of his cronies to attack her, nor was he doing the honors himself.  Bischoff was out here for one reason and one reason only - he wanted to thoroughly humiliate her...

"Since you can't wrestle for the next two months..." the slimy bastard continued.  "...how about this?"  He took a couple of steps closer to her, and Lita stiffened somewhat, her jaw clenched as she eyed him warily.  He was invading her personal space, and she didn't appreciate it one bit.

"I think you have other talents, Lita..." Bischoff said, and he allowed his sleazy gaze to slide up and down over her body.

The redhead shuddered inwardly, fearing she might actually vomit.  She couldn't help but recall what the man had done to Stephanie McMahon back on Halloween of last year - he'd gone so far as to dress up in a costume - as the brunette's father, of all things, and he'd ended up forcing a kiss on her.

"I think you have certain other talents that no one has seen..." the General Manager continued, and he ogled her some more.  "How about you go the route Torrie Wilson took?"

"Look...Mr. Bischoff..." the diva stressed as she finally spoke up.  "What Torrie is doing - in posing for Playboy and being on the cover and all that - that's what she wanted to do, and it's great that she's getting all this 'exposure...'"

Lita could see the lack of change in Bischoff's expression that he didn't get the sarcasm in her stress on the word 'exposure,' but she didn't care.

"If I want to pose for Playboy," she continued, her gaze hardening again, "I'd do it on my own terms - not because my boss forced me into it..."

"Whoa!  Whoa!" the GM exclaimed, and a little nasty grin spread across his face.  "I said nothing about Playboy...No, I wouldn't recommend you to Hef until I knew what I was recommending..."  He leered her up and down again, and the redhead felt sick at the way his gaze lingered on her chest - and when he stepped around her, her ass.

"I'd have to sample the goods myself before I did that..."  And there was that smile again.

It took all of Lita's willpower not to just reach out and slug the man right in his face.  At the very least, she wanted to curse him out and tell him to take a cold shower.  This was just about as bad as when Dean Malenko had been obsessing over her and harassing her.

"How about you come to my hotel room after the show tonight and give me a private showing?" Bischoff crowed, that smug grin plastered to his face.  He was very close to her again, obviously trying to bully and intimidate her into doing exactly what he wanted.  "And just so you know...I'm not asking, I'm telling...Your job is on the line here..."

"How about this?" the redheaded diva said.  "Eric...Mr. Bischoff..."  Her gaze hardened yet again.  "Since you put it that way...Go to hell!" she spat.  With those words, she slipped from the ring, away from the bastard, and started up the ramp, surprised to find that she was actually shaking in her anger.

The bastard... He probably hadn't expected her to say that - but she'd rather quit than deal with his disgusting sexual advances.

"The nerve!  You can't do that!" the GM yelled as he stared after her.  "You can't talk to me ike that!  You know what?  You're fired!  And don't expect to ever work for my show again!"

By now, Lita was just at the curtain to the backstage area, and she ran both hands through her hair at all that had just happened.  Her head was practically spinning.  Bischoff was a pathetic loser - he couldn't very well fire her after she'd obviously just quit.  Well, whatever.  She knew she could get a job on SmackDown in a heartbeat, knowing that Stephanie would be more than glad to have a diva the caliber of herself on her show.

The only problem was something Bischoff had thrown in her face - she couldn't wrestle again for another two months... Therefore, what was she going to do?

She swallowed hard as a new fear overtook her - what if Stephanie McMahon viewed her as worthless as well?