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~~~~
"How did you get one of Sandman's canes?" Tazz was astonished.
"He gave it to me."
"He did what; normally
he's got those canes locked up tighter than McMahon's wallet."
"He said it was for 'shits and giggles', he never thought
I'd figure out how to use it." There was a short pause. "And that I'd never have the guts to use it on a PPV."
"Never underestimate
Michael Cole." It had been surreal. ECW had won but Angle had run away towards the back before Tazz got to him, when Cole
had come out, Singapore cane in hand, like Nemesis in bad, boring clothing - editorial comments care of Raven who really shouldn't
have been there but was.
Angle had been somewhat confused, and tried to get past Cole, which had been the wrong thing
to do, since Cole smacked him and then Tazz came up behind Angle and pulled him back into the ring.
Tazz won the so-called
match, which was basically a brawl with an intermittent referee, by tap-out. Angle tapped to the Tazz-mission. Cole really
hadn't had any effect on the result, it hadn't been the first run in by people on either side, FTW rules being firmly in place,
and Angle was bleeding like a stuck pig by the time the match was over. Tazz was in another place, an unhappy, angry, very
Tazz place that he went to for matches, but he'd calmed down now and was just as confused as everyone else had been, with
the exception of Sandman who was sitting on the other side of the locker room, smug grin firmly fixed into place, though that
could have had something to do with the cigarettes and beer.
"But why?"
"Because you've done the same for me before.
Plus, I would never get the chance to get Angle back at any other time."
"Means, motive and opportunity, and you took them.
You're going to turn into a real hoodlum one day."
"Only after a lot more coaching from you."
"In that case I would
like to introduce you to the concept of the after-show drink." Sandman threw a few cans over.
"I'm going to hate myself
in the morning, aren't I?"
"Only if we do this right."
~~~~
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