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Stacy glared at Eric Bischoff with disgust, her jaw dropping open. The perverted creep had set her up! And she should have known better and suspected something the moment this ridiculous Playboy angle was proposed.
"You want me and Jackie to do *what*?" she asked, incredulous. Her gaze traveled from her boss to Mr. Richardson, her nose wrinkled in distaste.
"We sould like to turn this storyline into a reality, Stacy," the GM spoke. "You and Jackie are going to do the exact same thing Torrie and Sable are doing." He raised one hand high above him, as though mock-writing in the air. "Imagine this - Stacy Keibler and Miss Jackie - the *second* hot WWE diva tag team to bare all for Playboy magazine..."
The leggy blonde glanced at each of the other individuals in the room in turn. Mr. Richardson, the executive from Playboy, with a smile on his face... Miss Jackie, still sitting on the couch with a big grin on hers, nodding like an idiot... And then there was Bischoff, who was actually *salivating* as he looked from her to Jackie and back again... It all made Stacy furious, not to mention sick to her stomach.
"Well...?" It was Mr. Richardson who spoke this time. "Do we have a deal, Mr. Bischoff"?
Stacy nearly did a double-take, shocked and beyond angry at how the man was so quick to disregard her and Jackie - *they* were the ones who should be making the choice as to whether or not they wanted to pose nude for all the world to see! Before the RAW General Manager could speak, the tall blonde took it upon herself to do the honors of answering the man's question.
"No, there's no deal, you slimy pervert!" All three of the room's other occupants gaped at her in shock, but she continued and didn't hold back. "I am *not* taking my clothes off for a million horny losers like you to amuse yourselves! Why don't you take your 'proposal' and shove it?" Stacy then turned on her heel in an attempt to storm out, but Eric's hand snaked out and grabbed her arm, stopping her. In fact, the man's grip was so tight, it caused her to wince and cry out softly in pain.
"Not so fast, my dear Stacy..." All traces of amusement left Bischoff's face as he stared at her, obviously not pleased with the mouthful she'd said. "You're not understanding something..."
The blonde woman jerked her arm free of the GM's tight grasp, a scowl on her face as she glared at him and rubbed her arm. What a bastard...
"You don't have any choice in this matter..."
She openly glared at him.
"What are you talking about? Of course I do-"
"No..." Bischoff said, a cruel smile returning to his smug face as he shook his head at her. "No, you *don't*... You see, Stacy - the contract has already been signed - by *me*. You and Jackie *will* be posing for Playboy."
The leggy diva stared with further shock at the man. She couldn't believe her ears. It was all like some horrible nightmare. There was no way he could force her into doing what she didn't want to do - right? Then again, he'd put her in this inane storyline to begin with, and she'd gone along with it... But damn it, this was only supposed to be an angle, which was why she *had* agreed to partake in it. There was no way in a million years that she would ever willingly agree to pose naked for Playboy or any other magazine so horny men and teenage boys could masturbate to her pictures, making the pages sticky... And ooh, what a nauseating thought *that* was... She glanced over at Jackie Gayda, who suddenly took it upon herself to put in her two cents.
"Oh, come on, Stacy! Stop being such an uptight, prissy little girl! This is a great opportunity for us!" the Tough Enough 2 winner whined.
The leggy blonde frowned as she glared at the other woman. How *dare* she contradict her and make light of her feelings!
*
Outside, in the hallway, directly in front of the closed door stood Randy Orton. The young man had reluctantly come here a few minutes after leaving Stacy with Bischoff, the unhappy look on the blonde's face stuck in his mind, bothering him terribly. Unable to resist, he'd come here to find out what that snake Bischoff was up to.
He didn't like it one bit, and his hands clenched into fists as he
overheard every threatening word...