"Oops...Oh, sorry," she said, the smile briefly waning as she realized she'd stepped on the foot of a pretty petite blonde.

Trish Stratus arched a brow as she glared up at the taller woman.  "That's okay..."  Even though she knew it had only been an accident, she was still annoyed.

"These guys are gorgeous!" the newcomer exclaimed.  "You trying to get one of them for the night, too?"

Trish rolled her eyes, but when she turned to fully face the tall blonde, she openly glared at her.  "I don't have to," she said with annoyance.  "The drummer happens to be my boyfriend."

"Ahh..." the other blonde said, and she raised a hand to twirl her forefinger through her long platinum hair.

Trish eyed her warily.  Who the hell was this annoying woman?  She decided to find out.

"I'm Trish," she said, not bothering to put out her hand to shake.  "I manage Sweet Misery.  And you are...?"

"Torrie Wilson," the woman replied, giving the little blonde a winning smile, displaying her perfect white teeth.

"Are you new around here?  I haven't seen you before."

"Yeah...yeah, I am," Torrie said, her gaze riveted to someone on the stage.  Trish followed her line of vision and saw that the woman's focus was Edge.  In a surprising move, she turned back to Trish.  "Hey, you know - I know that redhead!  Who, by the way, looks very out of place with these guys..."  She giggled.

"You know Lita?  How?"

Again, Torrie giggled, and she twirled the same lock of hair around her finger.  Trish couldn't help but wonder if it was some type of nervous habit.

"I broke up her and her boyfriend..." she answered, and the smaller woman's brown eyes widened in shock at her sheer candidness.  "That's how I know her..."

*

Just before their set was done, Amy caught a glimpse of a rather familiar but despised face.

Torrie Wilson, the blonde slut, was standing beside Trish on the side of the stage. What in hell was she doing here at In The Raw?

She tried to concentrate on her guitar playing, feeling quite relieved that she was no longer singing lead. There was no doubt in her mind that she wouldn't be able to concentrate or get out the lyrics as long as she had this annoying distraction.

The redhead glared at Torrie for a few long moments, hatred coursing through her toward the tall blonde. Torrie Wilson was the reason she and Batista had broken up - she was the floozy with whom Dave had cheated on her...

She couldn't help but wonder why the platinum blonde was here now. What could she possibly want?

At that thought, Lita sneered and told herself there was only one thing the woman would want - actually, maybe not just one, seeing as she was the biggest slut walking. She wouldn't be able to walk with the amount of screwing she did. Hell, her name should have been 'Whorrie!'

The final song of the set finally, mercifully, came to an end, and Amy removed her guitar in a hurry, too agitated to even acknowledge the crowd. She turned to the guitar stands a few feet behind her and placed the instrument on one, then, before Chris, Edge or Christian could even react, she bolted to the backstage room, practically slamming the door on her way in.

Edge and Jericho exchanged confused glances.

"I wonder what that was all about?" Chris said.

A handsome African-American man neared the group, an equally concerned expression on his face. Booker T had been behind the consoles tonight, as Rob Van Dam, their usual sound engineer, had been indisposed for the night.

"I dunno, but she sure looked pissed up there during the last couple of songs," he said, responding to the blond man's question.

Edge turned to gaze toward the door through which the redhead had disappeared.

"Maybe we should go and find out what's bothering her..."

Christian joined his friends, a grin on his face.

"That was some set, huh?" he asked, evidently guileless about the current situation.

"Yeah, it was, Junior..." Jericho replied, his face still serious. Then, turning toward the backstage room, he said, "But at the moment, we've got a little situation to take care of..."