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The four wrestlers made their way to the backstage area with a combination of emotions running through each of them - relief, triumph, pride at having stood up to their tormentors... worry about what the repercussions of their actions might be.

"Whoo! I have to admit - that was a real rush!" Trish exclaimed, a grin on her pretty face. She pumped one fist high in the air above her head, glad that she'd put that idiot Chief Morley in his place. The truth was, ever since he'd turned on her back when he'd lost the Intercontinental title while under her tutelage, she'd wanted to give him what-for. Actually, what she'd really wanted to give him was a fat lip...

What she'd dished out to the man tonight was definitely more than sufficient.

Lita was slightly less enthusiastic than her blonde Canadian friend.

"I don't like this..." she admitted, her hazel eyes glancing around furtively.

"Li, there's no one comin' after us," Jeff said calmly.

The redhead looked up at him.

"I know that, Jeff...It's just that...Well," she continued with a shrug, "this just seems too easy...Know what I mean?"

Edge nodded.

"I know exactly what you mean...Those two scumbags aren't going to let us get away with what happened tonight..."

"Right..." Lita said, nodding, her gaze fixed on the green eyes of the tall blond man. "Bischoff and Morley aren't going to take it sitting down - they'll undoubtedly plan a means of revenge - and try to carry it out against us..."

Trish eyed each of them in turn, her happiness fading along with her smile. All the petite blonde had been able to see for the very moment was what they'd done, and how it made her feel - not the ramifications that would more than likely come later on...

As the four of them continued to the women's locker room, Trish pouted.

"Damn...you two are just raining all over my parade!"

"Trish, they've got a point..." Jeff said resignedly. "You know Bischoff's not gonna let us get away with what we did - especially seeing as how the Dudleys turned against them..."

Now standing just outside the door of the women's locker room, the group stood silent and pensive for a beat.

Finally, Trish's voice broke the silence.

"So, what are we going to do about it?"

Each of them glanced from one to another, then to another.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do..." Edge said, his firm jaw set, eyes gleaming with determination. "We're going to prepare ourselves..." the tall Canadian answered, then his finger pointed around to each of them. "The four of us - we're a clique...We're going to be ready for Mr. Bischoff and Chief Morley..."

Lita nodded, her expression serious.

"I like that idea...We are a clique. We're The Clique...And now you're talking sense..."

Trish nodded, then shifted her brown eyes over to Jeff. The colorful-haired young man was gazing intently into her eyes. Then, slowly, he nodded. Afterward, the four of them touched hands in a clannish way - and The Clique was born...