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> Chris Benoit's Family Circus, Another WWE Threepeat of Awful
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truthordeal


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post Mar 19 2016, 07:29 AM
Among wrestling fans, there are a few topics you just don't bring up in polite company. Among these are steroids, kayfabe, and Chris Benoit. Until last year when Hulk Hogan's racist tirade was leaked, Chris Benoit was probably the most infamous name in the history of professional wrestling. And bear in mind, the WWE Hall of Fame currently houses a woman who set up a very elaborate child prostitution ring, a promoter who planned a hit on a wrestler that ended with him being stabbed in the showers, and Donald Trump. So what exactly did Chris Benoit do that earned him such infamy among such infamous people?

Well, in July 2007, over the course of a weekend, he brutally strangled his wife Nancy, his son Daniel, and then hung himself on a weight bench. What made Benoit's crime especially heinous was the fact that he was an active competitor--in fact, he was scheduled to fight for a championship the Sunday night that he killed himself. Whereas with a retired wrestler like Hogan, you can kind of hand wave it away because he's not on the show regularly. But with Benoit, the WWE looked singularly guilty for allowing a murderer to appear on their programming. What made matters worse was that the media took this incident and made it one of the most bizarre and publicized cases since the OJ Simpson trial. WWE responded by essentially making Benoit an unperson; he was never to be mention on WWE programming again.

Wrestling fans today are violently split on what to do with Benoit. Some say that due to his history of concussions causing a psychotic break, he should be absolved of his actions. Some say that you should separate the person from his art and appreciate his body of work, regardless of how much of a scumbag he was. Some say that Benoit should just be put into a vault and only be mentioned when historically necessary (for example, mentioning his title reigns).

And of course, this being the Internet, and this being 2016, some jackasses have decided that the best way to approach the Benoit double-murder-suicide is by writing goddamned self-insert fanfiction about it!

A while ago I did a thing where I mockedthree fanfics centered around the fanfic-friendly trio of the Shield. While those all obviously left a foul taste in my mouth, they were very expected. Females love good looking dudes and want to make them gay. Big deal. That's 90% of Fanfic.Net's readerbase. It's stupid as hell, but I can understand that. What I can't understand is the mentality of people who want to write fluffy, shitty fanfics about a guy who viciously murdered his wife and kid.

So here we are. Three fics, all different brands of shit, all celebrating the person that was Chris Benoit, professional wrestling's turd in the punch bowl.

But first, wrestling being such a niche hobby, I'll assume again that no one here knows anything about the people involved, so here is an overview of our protagonist, ladies and gentlemen:





Chris Benoit


Real Name: Chris Benoit.

Occupation: Chris Benoit.

Nicknames: The Crippler, the Canadian Crippler, the Rabid Wolver-Yeah, how did people not see this coming?

Accomplishments: World Heavyweight Champion, US Champion, Tag Team Champion, Stole Someone Else's Wife Despite Being Ugly as Sin, 2004 Royal Rumble Winner, Member of the Four Horsemen, Single Handedly Made the Piledriver Illegal, Intercontinental Champion, WCW Television Champion.

Relationship Status: Widowed

Finishing Move: The Crippler Crossface, the Diving Headbutt.

Likes: Doing steroids, killing his wife and ten year old son.

Dislikes: Long walks on the beach, his wife and ten year old son.

Misc.: Has two other kids from his first wife. They're still alive and reasonably happy. They will never be brought up again.



Now without further ado, let's all lose what dwindling faith we have in humanity by reading the sports entertainment equivalent of Eric Harris fanfiction (which I'm sure exists).

This post has been edited by truthordeal: Mar 19 2016, 07:30 AM


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watdakstomp


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post Mar 19 2016, 07:40 AM
Well then. I think I'm going to have nightmares about these things now. Anyway, hope you have a good time during your mocking truthordeal.

And now I am off to find something that can make me forget what I just learned about wrestling.

This post has been edited by watdakstomp: Mar 19 2016, 07:43 AM
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truthordeal


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post Mar 19 2016, 08:03 AM
When bad things happen, people's first instinct is to ask why. Why did Chris Benoit kill his wife and son? He seemed like such a good person when he was beating the shit out of people on TV! How could a guy that so many people admired and saw as a friend do something so evil? Of course, this being a wrestling scandal, the first things the media jumped to were roid rage and the fact that wrestling is violent. Talking heads like Nancy Grace and Sean Hannity were of course all too willing to wag their fingers at such barbaric entertainment and pooh-pooh parents who let their kids watch it. After that came accusations of alcohol abuse and people brought up the fact that on prior occassions Benoit had been arrested for domestic violence.

But of course, just like with OJ, just like with David Koresh, and just like with the Teletubbies, a few nutcases assumed there was some giant conspiracy at work. The government killed Benoit, the WWE killed Benoit, the mob killed Benoit, etc. One of the most pernicious theories was that former wrestler and Nancy Benoit's ex-husband Kevin Sullivan had killed the Benoit family. The supposed motive was revenge for Nancy cheating on Sullivan with and then marrying Benoit. This of course, being almost ten years after, reasonable people wondered why he would bother waiting. The main proof of this accusation? Kevin Sullivan played a Satanic character in the 80s and therefore is a Satanist. Which is stupid, and like saying that the Undertaker is actually a zombie wizard, that Yokozuna was actually a sumo wrestler, or that Hulk Hogan is actually a decent human being.

Tonight's fic is one of the many, many crazy ramblings that indicts Kevin Sullivan in the Benoit murders. Since Sullivan is a bit obscure, even for wrestling fans, here is your introduction:






Kevin Sullivan with Woman, the character Nancy Benoit played as his valet


Real Name: Kevin Sullivan

Occupation: Satanist, Shrimp Boat Operator, Leader of an Evil Cabal Dedicated to Killing Hulk Hogan.

Nicknames: The Taskmaster, The Gamesmasher, The Great Wizard (Not the KKK kind).

Accomplishments: WCW Tag Team Championship

Relationship Status: Single...laaaadies....

Finishing Move: The Devil Stomp (It's like a regular stomp, but filled with evil)

Likes: Satan, Clam Digger, Chris Benoit's wife and ten year old son.

Dislikes: Jesus, Chris Benoit, Chris Benoit's wife and ten year old son.

Misc.: Once held creative control over an on-screen feud between himself against Chris Benoit. He booked himself to lose a retirement match in this feud. People still think he's aggressively bitter.




As a Murder Does, by Rainbow Haired Girl

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone but Christina Benoit.

Thanks in no short measure to Abraham Lincoln. Emancipation my ass!

Summary: When a father's love goes much father from the grave.

Much father. So daddy. Wow.

Christina must help her grandpa understand that his don didn't do the murders and it was Kevin Sullivan. Even if it means putting her young life in danger.

Christina must do this through visual cues and obscene gestures because Christina evidently can't speak properly.

Christina ran a hand through her brown hair. It's almost been three full months since they found half of her family dead in their Atlanta home. She only was down the road from her parents house and Daniel would come over to swim in her pool when she was there healing from her knee surgery.

I don't know if he'd be swimming so much as floating.

She was currently on the phone with her friend of the past year CM Punk.

Oh of course she's friends with CM Punk. Punk is essentially the Sesshomaru of wrestlers, i.e., he's everyone's favorite character, and therefore everyone's best friend in fanfiction.

"So how are you holding up?" asked the ECW champion.

"Holding up as the best I can CM. I mean… I've been hunting for answers for months. I can't seem to find any reasonable answers. You know, besides that he actually did it, but actual evidence be damned, I want answers! I mean I miss him, but… I… you know."

There was a knock on the door.

"Hold on CM someone's at the door."

"Ok."

so ur with ur honey and yur making out wen the door noks.
U anser it n the vioce is "wut r u doing wit my daughter?"
U tell ur girl n she say "my dad is krispen wah".
THEN WHO WAS DOOR!


She limped over to the door and opened it. She looked in shock at CM. "What are you doing here with my grandpa?"

”Well the gays can get married now, so we figured we'd drop in before leaving on our honeymoon.”

CM hung up his phone and smiled at the young diva. "I called up your grandpa and he told me that you haven't been sleeping and seem to have found an answer to your dad's death."

Christina nodded her head. "Yes, I found something on my desk in my office."

Hold on a minute. Christina just said on the phone that she couldn't find any answers despite searching for months. Did the author just not pay attention while writing her own story?

"Can I see it?" asked CM.

She nodded her head. "It will take me some time to get it. It's in the basement. Can't walk very good as you can tell."

"We'll just follow you then." Said her grandpa.

"Ok grandpa." She slowly led them into the kitchen so they could go down into the basement. She led them down to her basement which had weights that she used for her therapy.

Her physical therapy for her leg. The leg that's apparently hurt because she can't walk well. Downstairs in the basement. Where she has her weights for her physical therapy for her leg, that she can't walk well on.

"Just stay here. I'll go and get it."

Both men nodded their heads and watched her disappear into a room that had a dark wooden door.

Spoooooky~!

Christina hunted for the letter that was left in her office. She put her hand on it. She remembered when she had found it just a few days ago.

-Flashback-

"Ugh rehab sucks ass. Why can't I just return to the road and be with the SmackDown and ECW rosters." She limped into her office. She saw a letter sitting on her desk. She knew right away it was Kevin Sullivan who wrote it because she knew it was his writing.

-End of Flashback-

What the hell was that flashback? Not only was it stupidly useless exposition that could have been done through dialog, but it brings up more questions than it answers! How did she know Kevin Sullivan's handwriting? How did the letter just magically appear there when she's there all day rehabbing her leg? Why did Kevin Sullivan write a letter to her if he's the villain?

She came out. She limped over to them.

Giggety.

"Baby do you want to read it to us?" asked her grandpa.

”No.” said Christina, trying to hide the fact that she was illiterate.

Christina looked at the letter in her hand. "I don't mind reading it to you grandpa. It's a little morbid though."

"Alright I understand that baby."

She opened it. "It says 'So you're trying to figure out a mystery of what happened to your dear old dad, step mother Nancy, and little Daniel. You thought your support for Nancy and Chris' love was a big deal. Well sweetheart you have no idea what really happened bringing your dumb ass father and his slutty ass wife together. I believe the storylines are all to blame. He ruined my marriage to Nancy. I told your father he was going to pay dearly for what he has done to me, but he had a choice. Four children, three to his previous marriage and Daniel. He had a life changing choice. It was either you or his family. He could have either given you up to me and be with Nancy and Daniel or keep you and give up Nancy and Daniel. If he didn't do one of those your family was in danger. Your dad. Step mom, and Daniel were to die. You support your dad and step mom's marriage. You're next you whore ass bitch. Sincerely Kevin Sullivan.'

...oh my god. Oh my god.

Excuse me. I need to go wipe tears from my eyes. I have just witnessed the single most sincerely retarded paragraph written in existence and it's making me a bit emotional. Wew lad.


It's stupid I know, but god he hated dad more than anyone else. He had nothing to gain from this."

It's stupid that Kevin Sullivan sent you a letter claiming that he killed the Benoits and now he's going to kill you. Yes, that I agree on. It's also stupid that he sent you a letter explicitly outlining his motives and calling you a whore ass bitch repeatedly. But the most stupid thing in this entire situation is that someone decided that the best way to introduce the evil Satanic character Kevin Sullivan is...this.

I wish this were a parody. I wish this was, because you would have made the most unintentionally funny thing I've ever read if you weren't wasting precious Internet resources on a mindnumbingly trite conspiracy theory.


Her grandpa put his hands on her slim shoulders. "Baby girl you should be able to sleep better and eat better when this man is put behind bars."

"Grandpa I should've called the cops. They will classify this as withholding evidence from them."

Yes, you very well should have. In the pretend world where Kevin Sullivan sent you a very explicit letter delineating his crimes, this is perfect evidence that Kevin Sullivan killed your dad.

"Baby girl put Kevin Sullivan in jail. They know you well enough."

"Of course, but what if Sullivan tries to link me with the murders? That man is smart."

Not in this timeline.

"Don't worry. They'll believe you."

CM nodded his head. "Your grandpa is right Chrissy. There is no way Sullivan can take you out. You have the note that tells them that he's after you next."

They heard clapping. "Bravo bravo. You pretty much cracked the case." Said a voice that Christina knew well enough.

HAHAHA, what the fuck? How the hell did she crack the case? She spent months searching for answers but only got one when you sent her a letter telling her who did it! And it was you!

I think Rainbow Haired Girls' rainbow hair dye caused her to have some kind of stroke, because only a braindead vegetable could have come up with this.


They turned around.

"Sullivan. What the hell are you doing here? You caused my family enough pain."

"You read the letter. You're next doll face."

"You son of a bitch. You took my son and grandson away from me and you want to kill my granddaughter next? I don't think so."

Fuck Nancy though, right?

"Ah Michael it is good to see you too old man. Your son was a sorry excuse for a father. He didn't save his wife or bastard son's life by giving up his eldest daughter."

And in the real world, he killed his wife and bastard son. So, you know. Still not exactly father of the year over on this side of Cuckooland either.

"You son of a bitch. My dad told me the truth you cocksucker. He knew you wanted to make you yours. He didn't want me to lose my virginity to you."

Alright, so we have just introduced a new wrinkle of idiocy. Chris Benoit apparently told his daughter exactly what Sullivan was planning to do before he killed him. That is, Kevin Sullivan wanted to rape Chris Benoit's daughter, and if Chris Benoit didn't let him do that, then Sullivan was going to kill Benoit's entire family. Then when he, Nancy and Daniel were all killed, none of this jogged her memory. And then, when Kevin Sullivan WROTE HER A FUCKING LETTER EXPLAINING THAT HE KILLED THEM, she still didn't have the wherewithal to bring any of this up to the police.

The moral of this story is that it's very easy to commit crimes against mentally handicapped people.


"Oh you still may lose your virginity still."

Christina crossed her arms. "Sorry about that Sullivan. I have already lost my virginity. Besides you wouldn't want to kill someone who is three months along now would you? Instead of four murders there would be five. Wouldn't think you would want to do that Sullivan."

He already killed a kid. I don't think murdering a fetus is outside his wheelhouse.

"Oh you're wrong. Who ever's baby your carrying will die too. You're just a slut like Nancy was."

"You son of a bitch you aren't harming my fiancée." Yelled Punk.

See, I thought CM Punk was her friend for the past year. That's the least egregious plot hole in this story, but I'm still laughing about the sheer tow-headedness of it all the same.

"CM." She whispered.

"Besides cops are on their way." Said her grandpa who was waving his cell phone in front of his face.

Grandpa Benoit unfortunately forgot that he needed to turn the cell phone on and dial the number for 911 before the cops would come.

Sullivan pulled a gun out. "Well then they'll only find all of you dead!" Yelled Kevin. He clicked the gun and aimed it at her grandpa.

You are THE worst murderer, Kevin Sullivan.

Christina knocked him down to the floor. "You son of a bitch. You're not killing anyone!" She yelled.

"You risk your baby's life to save another's? Foolish whore."

”You put yourself in danger to stop a guy who was about to shoot you? Foolish whore.” - Kevin Sullivan.

The cops came and arrested Kevin Sullivan on three murders and four attempted murders.

Well that was...wow. That was uh...I'm not sure “anticlimactic” is a strong enough word. He just kind of got knocked over and his plan was foiled. No wonder the Dungeon of Doom failed.

Michael looked at his granddaughter. "You did a good job m granddaughter. *tips fedora I am sure Nancy, Daniel, and your father would be proud of you."

Christina saw Chris', Nancy's, and Denial's forms out of the corner of her eyes and she smiled softly.

Denial being the first stage of grief, the plot twist here is that the above events were all a representation of Christina Benoit's overactive and shallow imagination as she tries to cope with her father's death and murders.

"You know they would be proud of you and CM for standing up for what was right."

"They would be proud of you too grandpa. You stood your ground."

I mean, he WAS the only one who actually did something proactive to stop Kevin Sullivan, so I guess I'm proud of your senile old grandpa too.

"But you kept your baby safe too." Said her grandpa smiling at her.

She put her hand on her stomach. "Growing instinct grandpa."

Her grandpa said his good bye and was off to the home again.

It's a shame that Sullivan's dastardly scheme prevented his and CM Punk's honeymoon.

CM looked at Christina. "As long as your baby is ok."

"Our baby CM."

"Your father must be proud if he saw you stand up to Sullivan in your condition."

Christina saw them smiling at her. She smiled. "You absolutely have no idea CM. They all would be proud of me."

I would imagine that Chris Benoit is pretty much the last person in the afterlife who gets to pass judgement on people, but even I agree that he should be very disappointed in the person who wrote this.

"They would've wanted to see their grandchild through." He said putting her arms around her waist.

"I have a feeling that our baby will be well watched over. They'll have a lot of people watching over them as they grow up. Including spirits."

Jedi spirits, if I'm correctly interpreting what Christina is seeing.

"Let's get you upstairs so you can rest."

Christina smiled. "And I am taking a guess that you are going to get back on the road."

"Estrada gave me some time off since he knew you were still hooked on phonics your dad's death. I explained every single thing to him."

They headed up the stairs together.

"Ah good. How many days?"

"Seven."

Seven days. That's as many as two plus five, Christina. Can you count to seven?

"Ah good."

CM gave her a kiss. "Besides he knew you were pregnant and on rehab for your knee any way honey and he's happy that you're feeling so much better."

I feel like the pregnancy thing was supposed to be an emotional and shocking twist in the middle of the story, but really, it just makes everyone look stupid for pretending not to know earlier.

Also, it's very unlikely that anyone would allow her to wrestle while pregnant, so the rehab thing is even more pointless in retrospect.


"Excellent."

The end.







It's sad. Some people don't want to deal with harsh realities so they come up with these completely ridiculous theories to explain away the fact that ostensibly good people can do evil things. The Kevin Sullivan conspiracy has been around for years, and it's been debunked over and over again. Some people, like Rainbow Haired Girl still cling to that hope that Chris Benoit wasn't a bad person. It is sad.

But this fic, wow. Any sympathy I might've had is gone. I would've liked to have used a longer, more substantial fic about Kevin Sullivan being the evil mastermind behind the Benoit double-murder suicide, but I mean, look at this. There's no way I could've passed this one up. Apart from the fact that it's written like any fourteen year old's creepypasta, it's wish-fulfillment of the most insufferable kind. Not only is there a shoehorned, and really unnecessary romance with CM Punk, but the exploitation of this conspiracy for your own fantasy is basically like peeing on the Benoit's graves. It's sacrilege, in a very real sense. Real people died, real families were torn apart, and all you're doing is using that to play pretend that you're married to your favorite wrestler.

I'd like to think that with the terrible grammar and overall illogic of the plot that this was written by some dumb kid who was willing to believe anything. I only hope that in the 6 years since this abomination was posted that Rainbow Haired Girl grew up and made her peace with the fact that Chris Benoit murdered his wife and son.

Next time, a bit more of the same.


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SeinenNinja


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post Mar 19 2016, 01:11 PM
...I didn't know this existed. I knew the fans are divided on Benoit being honored in the WWE or just in general but I did not know that they're were conspiracy theories about it. My gods...

Good work so far, and great work on the prologue with all the info about the incident.
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N. Harmonik


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post Mar 21 2016, 02:49 PM
This is about as bad as the fan girls claiming Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, one of the Boston Marathon bombers, is innocent because he's hot and writing fanfics about him becoming their boyfriend.


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truthordeal


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post Mar 23 2016, 08:16 AM
QUOTE (N. Harmonik @ Mar 21 2016, 06:49 PM) *
This is about as bad as the fan girls claiming Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, one of the Boston Marathon bombers, is innocent because he's hot and writing fanfics about him becoming their boyfriend.

Even weirder than that is all of the fanfic writers wanting to be his son or daughter. I guess you can chalk that up to him being a bit older and not being traditionally handsome like Tsarnaev. Regardless, I don't get it. It's like these people don't even know what Benoit does to his kids.

The best supported theory behind the Benoit murders is that Chris Benoit suffered a psychological break caused by Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy(CTE), a disease often found in sports where concussions are common. This is the disease that the NFL has just recently admitted wrong doing about. After medical examiners did an autopsy on Benoit's brain, they found that it resembled the brain of an eighty year old Alzheimer's patient with how much damage had been done. It certainly didn't help his cause that one of his finishing moves was him jumping off the top rope and smashing his head into people.

The reason I bring that up is because Benoit having what was essentially a psychological disorder is popular rhetoric for people who want to absolve him of all guilt. The logic usually goes “Well if he had been tried, he'd have been found not guilty.” They're not wrong, but I have trouble getting rid of any sense of wrongdoing when a woman and ten year old boy were murdered in cold-blood. The WWE agrees, and it's one of the reasons why, even after finding out there were mitigating circumstances, Chris Benoit is never mentioned on modern WWE shows. Despite the fact that WWE has left Benoit's matches up and unedited on their network, and doesn't take drastic steps to edit him out of old footage in promo packages anymore, there is a great wailing and gnashing of teeth about him being an “unperson.” Some people don't understand that a publicly traded company doesn't want to be associated with a murderer, regardless of the circumstances. “Fantasy bookers” and fanfic writers love to dredge up inane fantasies to “reinstate” Benoit, all ripe for fanfiction.

So that sets the stage for tonight's fic, in which another female imagines herself as Chris Benoit's daughter and creates an impossibly dumb situation to rectify the grave injustice that was WWE not promoting Benoit after he murdered his wife and son.

At this point I'd normally do a character introduction, but since the author loves namedropping people without bothering to have them influence the plot any, I don't think it's necessary.



Wolverine's Cub, by xAracnaeX


JAuthor's Note: Okay so this is something that I've had on my computer for a few months now...I've written and re-written it several times now, and I've decided hell with it, it's gotta be posted.

In the ancient prophecy, it was said that should a Chris Benoit fanfic not be posted on April 12th 2011, a meteor would fall from the skies and destroy most of northwestern Canada.

It was a sacrifice many of us were willing to make, but then you went and fucked it up.


This story means a lot to me, and anyone whose been a long term fan should understand why. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do, and please let me know what you think.

That's what I'm here for.

~Aracnae

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone you recognize, just Aiden and the plot.

Kudos for coming up with a name that's not as generic as “Christina Benoit,” the fact that Aiden is probably the author's real name notwithstanding.

August 8th 2001

Chris Benoit carried his ten year old daughter through the maze known as the backstage area of an arena. Tonight was a special night, it was her birthday, and he and his buddies had planned a surprise birthday party for her.

Hopefully it'll be better than last year's party, when her father had to be pulled off Dumbo the Clown because he refused to make a dickwolf-shaped balloon animal.

"C'mon Daddy, I don't like surprises and you know it." she whined.

Benoit's surprises were notoriously awful, and usually ended in more than one class E felony charge.

"I know baby, but do you think you can make an exception just this once? For your old Dad?" Chris smiled though he knew she couldn't see it.

"Daddy, you aren't old. But I guess I can wait a few more minutes."

Chris shook his head, but continued walking.

He finally got to the door where his friends were waiting to surprise his little girl.


With baseball bats.

Most people didn't quite understand how much of a family the WWF was, but on days like this, Chris was damn glad for it.

Sure, it may not be a “traditional” family like the Bradys or the Mansons, but if nothing else, 2001 WWE just screams “family” to me.

"Alright baby, I'm gonna put you down now. Are you ready for the surprise?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Come on Daddy, I wanna know what's going on!" she clapped her hands together. Chris just smiled and opened the door.

"SURPRISE!" came the combined voices of Chris's friends.

He knew that he'd done the right thing when his little girl squeaked and jumped up and down. Before running into the room to greet her many uncles and aunts, she turned around and hugged her father around the middle.

"Thank you Daddy." she said.

"Your welcome baby. Happy birthday sweetheart."


Wait, so was the surprise just that she was celebrating her birthday with other wrestlers? Wouldn't that have been obvious since she was backstage on her birthday? Chris has really come off his game.

As she ran into the center of the room, Chris found himself with Dean Malenko on one side of him, and Eddie Guerrero on the other.


Now the REAL party's about to begin. 8====D

"Your little one is getting big." Eddie said.

"Yeah, I know, I feel old." Chris laughed.

"You are old Chris." Dean grinned, punching Chris in the shoulder.

"Oh shut it man. I wish this day could last forever."

"What, you don't wanna see your baby become a mini you?" Eddie asked.


Let's not wish that upon anybody.

"Not really. I know she's going to, she talks about it all the time. She even wrestles with some of the other kids. I just don't want this to strain what relationship I have left with her mother. You both know I barely get to see her as it is."

Oh cool. The author actually seems to be aware that Benoit had other kids, which is a fact that's not often brought up.

Except he had two kids, of course, and neither of them were named Aiden, but .5 points for trying, I guess.


"Yeah but your daughter is stubborn just like you. If she wants to wrestle, you better believe she's going to wrestle." Dean pointed out.

Chris sighed. He knew they were both right. "Yeah yeah. Alright let's go enjoy this party. It's not every day your only child turns ten."


...It appears I was too quick to give praise. Again, he had two kids prior to marrying the woman he killed. And hell, this taking place in 2001, Daniel Benoit would have already been four years old.

The three men laughed and Chris went on a search for his little girl.

She ended up drinking beer with Stone Cold and vomitting in the Rock's gym bag. Man, was that awkward to explain to Nancy.

June 24th 2011

Aiden Benoit was walking similar hallways to the ones she had ten years before, the day of her surprise 10th birthday.

A frown crossed her lovely features as she thought of that day. It wasn't that she hadn't had wonderful time, but it was one of the last times she'd gotten to see her father. In the six years between her birthday, and the day that Chris Benoit died, Aiden had only seen her father maybe 12 times.

And in retrospect, maybe that's a good thing, right?

She knew it wasn't his fault, anymore then it was hers. The blame all landed on her mother. When Aiden turned 12, she had signed up for the schools wrestling team, and that was when everything had gone downhill.

Aiden was kicked off the team for german suplexing all of her teammates before wrenching their necks and yelling at them to tap out.

Lisa hadn't wanted her daughter to have anything to do with the sport anymore then she wanted her to have anything to do with her father.

Which probably wouldn't be a huge issue since pro wrestling is different from the Greco-Roman stuff you do in high school.

So Lisa forbid her to wrestle, but Aiden did anyway, and just kept it hidden. She trained every day, before and after school, under the pretense of having extra help for some of her classes, and Lisa was never any the wiser.

...Is the author not aware that Greco-Roman is different from “professional” wrestling? Because I doubt she'd be training to take bumps and actually do shit that would help in a WWE career in high school.

The one thing she did manage to do was keep Chris away from Aiden. The two still managed to keep in contact through phone calls, texts later on and letters, always sent to her best friend's house. It wasn't the same but it was all they had.

And you would think that a child of Chris Benoit might think that this was a good thing in hindsight due to, you know, the murders.

This had put a serious strain on the relationship between Aiden and her mother. As of now, Aiden hadn't talked to Lisa in almost a year and a half, and she couldn't be happier about it.

I've just now realized that the author invented a person named “Lisa” to fill in as the stereotypical evil mother figure.

See, this is a thing that wrestling fics apparently do a lot, and it's irritating because they're writing about real people. Like, people exist, and have set pasts in real life, so the whole “here's Hulk Hogan's long lost lesbian sister” schtick baffles me. It's one thing to have an Original Character pop in on a fictional plot, but on this side of the screen, it doesn't work really well. I mean, it never works well, but in this case it's kind of insulting to your readers.


Today was four years since Chris had died, and it just so happened that it was going to be her debut on Monday Night Raw. Aiden's dream was finally coming true and she wished that her father was still around to see it.

He'd have probably been half brain-dead by the time you debuted, so maybe it's a good thing that he didn't.

She let a few tears fall from her eyes as she made her way to the Diva's locker room. Aiden stopped to get her bearings before entering the room to face the women she would be working with.

She thought back to the conversation she'd had with Vince McMahon after Chris died.

Vince: What do you mean he's going to no-show Raw too?! Being dead is no excuse, damnit!

At first the man was dead set against her coming into the company when she became of age, but a lot of convincing from the many uncles and aunts and Aiden herself had finally gotten McMahon to see things from her point of view.

When everything first happened, it seemed like Chris had just gone crazy and killed his new wife and little boy, but Aiden knew deep down that this was not something that her father would do.

In spite of all of the evidence to the contrary.

And when someone who used to work with Chris convinced her grandfather to have the brain scans done, Aiden's theory would prove correct.

Her theory that he hadn't gone crazy and killed his wife and son. The one that the diagnosis of CTE definitely confirmed. Sure.

With the help of Dean Malenko, Chris Irvine, Trish Stratus, and several others, Aiden had what she'd always wanted.

I don't really mind that you used Chris Jericho's real name, but I am confounded that you did that and then didn't use Malenko's or Stratus'.

When she turned 18 (she was only 16 when Chris died), Vince made sure to contact her and let her know that she was to begin further training with Florida Championship Wrestling and as soon as she'd hung up the phone with him she began to pack her bags. She remembered the fight it caused with Lisa as well.

Lisa walked into Aiden's room and saw her daughter packing her things into a suitcase.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Over to your mom's house. Oooooh get 'em!

"I'm going to Florida. I'll be living there and working for FCW." Aiden replied, not even bothering to look at her.

"I don't think so. We've talked about this and-"

Aiden cut her off. "No Mother, you talked about this and you decided that I wasn't going to wrestle. I talked about this with my family and friends and I've known this is what I wanted to do since I was a little girl. You never could accept that I would take after Dad instead of being the perfect little girl you wanted me to be. I hope you know that even though you kept us from seeing each other, every time the WWE came through, I was there. I went and watched him and then I would stay with him until he had to leave for the next show. We always stayed in touch, no matter what you choose to believe. He loved me, and nothing could have changed that."


A simple “YOU'RE TEARING ME APART LISA!” would have been fine.

Lisa saw red. "You ungrateful little…I cannot believe you would lie to your own mother for all of these years. After all I've done for you…"


”I birthed you, and I can UNBIRTH YOU!”

Pro tip: Don't google “unbirthing.”


"All you managed to do was teach me how not to raise a child. You kept me from my father and in doing so you made it nearly impossible for me to be comfortable here. I'm sorry Mom, but you brought this on yourself. I love you and I always will, but I'm doing this. If you can't accept that, then I'm sorry but I won't be able to stay in touch with you." it pained Aiden to have to say these things but she couldn't think of a better way to explain it all.

This is written less like a conversation and more like a suicide note. Are you ok, Aracnea?

All Lisa could do was stand in the doorway and watch her daughter walk out of her life.

Not true. She also could've beaten her. That wouldn't have solved anything, but given this story has set her up to be Satan Kevin Sullivan incarnate, I wouldn't put it past her.

Aiden wiped her eyes, and checked her make up in the mirror before pushing open the door to the Diva's locker room.

All the chatter that had been going on before Aiden walked in ceased instantly and most of the eyes in the room turned to look at her.

"Oh my god…Aiden?" Aiden turned to see who'd spoken and a smile spread across her face.

Warren Beatty? Justin Bieber? I don't know. Who are young girls attracted to these days? Sting?

"Hey Nattie."

Nattie Neidhart was one of Aiden's closest friends. The girl was nine when Aiden was born and despite the age gap the two were always close. The most common bond was the fact that both of their fathers were wrestlers.

Natalya's father, Jim “the Anvil” Neidhart, never quite matched up to Chris in the Father of the Year category. He did assault a police officer while drunk though, so it's not like he didn't put in the effort.

Nattie crossed the space between the two and grabbed Aiden in a tight hug. "I missed you little sis."

"I missed you too Nat. You have no idea."

"Does this mean you're finally here? Like for good?" Nattie pulled back to ask.

"Yeah it does. Unless I get traded to SmackDown that is." Professor Oak's Aide teased.

"Not even funny. I guess I should introduce everybody huh?"

"Might be nice Nattie." Aidan laughed.

"Alright, listen up everybody. It's my pleasure to introduce you to someone I like to think of as my little sister. This is Aiden Benoit." Nattie said loud enough for everyone to hear, and put her arm around Aiden's shoulders.

"Hi guys." Aiden said.

"It's nice to finally meet you Aiden, Nattie here talks about you all the time. I'm Eve." Aiden smiled, happy that she wasn't going to be treated differently because of who her father was.

After about twenty minutes, Aiden had met Gail Kim, The Bella Twins, Melina, Alicia Fox and Maryse. All of them had been nothing but nice to her and she hated to say it but it shocked her seeing Maryse being nice.

I promise you that none of these people have any relevance to the story outside of a cheap name drop.

"Well ladies, I've got to go with Teddy to the ring. I'll see you all later." Maryse spoke up.

"Wait, Teddy who?" Aiden asked.

"DiBiase." came the unanimous response.

And by Ted DiBiase, they are not referring to the Million Dollar Man, a dude that was so awesome that he basically owned a black guy and everyone was cool with it, but rather his much more disappointing son, whom I'm assuming Aracnea included because he was handsome.

"Oh geez, I have to put up with his ass again? Please tell me that I don't have to deal with Runnels too?" Aiden sighed.

"So you know Teddy?" Maryse laughed. "He's married now you know? And no, Cody is on SmackDown now."

"Theodore DiBiase is married? I never would've thought it. Well I'm glad he's happy then. I'll have to catch up with him later. It was nice to meet you Maryse, tell Ted that his pain in the ass is back for me would you?" Aiden grinned.

What a delightful bit of character building that served no purpose.

"Can do. Later girls." with that, Maryse exited the locker room.

"Alright, tonight is your debut chica, what does Vince have planned for you?" Nikki asked her.

Implying that Vince ever has anything planned for the women.

"Well apart from you guys, nobody knows I'm here. Vince made me swear not to tell anyone, which is why I didn't even tell Nattie." Aiden started.

"So wait, none of your uncles know you're here?" Brie was curious.

"Not a one of them. Most of them will probably be angry but there was nothing I could do. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about what they have planned for me tonight but I guess we'll see how the crowd reacts. I know tonight is special." Aiden finished.

Because it's the anniversary of the Benoit DOUBLE MURDER SUICIDE. Just in case that was too subtle.

"I hate to bring up such a touchy subject, but I know today makes four years since Chris passed. Up until recently, it was pretty much against the law to talk about him, and I heard some of the guys talking about how tonight all of that was going to change. Do you know what they meant?" Melina had to find out what was going to happen.

It meant that after tonight it would no longer be illegal to talk about Chris Benoit.

Because it totally was that way before, you know.


"I honestly don't know exactly what's going on except for when I come into play. I hope you don't hold it against me for not telling you guys it's just…I feel like I need to keep this a surprise. I know something's planned with the Nexus 2.0 or whatever and I will tell you Punk isn't going to run his mouth." Aiden smirked. She had nothing against Phil, they actually got along quite well, but this whole heel thing was getting old.

”Heel” is the wrestling term for “villain.” You can tell that the author is the coolest because she uses insider terms casually.

The girls continued talking until there was a knock at the door and one of the crew members stuck their head inside the door. "Aiden, Boss Man wants to see you to run over some last minute things before you go out. And he said that Natalya can come along with you."

I'm sorry, what does 2016 WWE Hall of Fame Inductee The Big Boss Man have to do with any of this mess? I hope it involves a nightstick and a murderer's daughter's kneecaps.

"Alright, thanks. I guess I'll be going girls. I'll see you after my debut." Aiden smiled genuinely at all of them. She knew that she could find real friends in these girls.

XXXXX

Y was the superior Sixth Gen Pokemon game. Admit it or be wrong.

Nattie and Aiden easily found Vince's office for the night with no one spotting them which was for the best. She'd come all this way, she didn't need her cover blown now.

Aiden knocked and heard a muffled come in through the door. Both girls entered and when Vince looked up and saw who was standing before him, a smile crossed his face.

"Aiden, it's so good to see you again, damnit!" the older man said, coming around his desk and pulling the girl into a hug.

"Same to you Vince."

He broke the hug and waved cheerily to Nattie who smiled back.

"Have a seat girls, we need to have a chat before Aiden's debut damnit!"

"What's the plan Boss Man?" Nattie asked.

Please quit bringing Big Boss Man into this. The Big Boss Man was probably the coolest dad ever. Not only does he automatically gets points for not killing his children, but he was also genuinely a nice dude and did a lot for charity after he retired.

Why aren't there more people writing fanfics about being his kid?


"Well we have it planned that Rey Mysterio, Chris Jericho, Randy Orton, Hunter, and Dean Malenko are going to be standing in the ring when we come back from commercial break. Now King, and Cole are going to be confused as to why they're all out there, and all of them will be wearing Benoit shirts. Dean is going to start off talking about how none of them think that it's fair to not be able to talk about Chris anymore and before Rey gets his turn to speak, Nexus is going to come out and interrupt. Are you with me so far damnit!?" Vince asked, reaching behind him to grab a box of tissues to hand to Aiden and Nattie who both had tears in their eyes.

No, okay. We've finally gotten to Kevin Sullivan letter levels of craziness here. This is fun.

So the plan for debuting Chris Benoit's daughter is not to try and disassociate her from her murderer father, but instead to embellish the fact that apparently the wrestlers have been forbidden from talking about him. Which is bad because...praising murderers is apparently considered ill-mannered in polite company? Yeah, of course. So they're all going to be wearing Benoit t-shirts, which contradicts the above, because Lord knows they wouldn't be allowed to wear those on TV if it was forbidden, and they're going to demand to be allowed to talk about Chris Benoit.

Okay, Vince, I'm with you.


"We're with you. Go on." Aiden urged, not sure how much longer she was going to be able to handle this.

"Well Punk, is going to start talking trash about your father Aiden, and I want you to know that nothing he says comes from him damnit!."

Aiden nodded, "I know, Phil and I were pretty good friends back in FCW."

No you weren't, because “Phil” was never in FCW.

It's a detail that only I would care about, but come the fuck on. If you're going to make yourself BFFs with your favorite wrestler, you can at least do a tertiary amount of research into their past.


"Good, well he's going to start talking, then the rest of Nexus is going to agree, and it's going to turn into an impromptu wrestling match ordered by the Anonymous GM. A five on five tag match damnit!."

At this point, Theodore Long ran into the room and shouted the word “playa.”

See? I can namedrop irrelevant people too, bitch!


"Wait, you mean to tell me that Uncle Dean is going to wrestle? He hasn't wrestled in a few years." Aiden asked.

"His participation was his idea fully. I offered to let one of the other guys take his spot but he wouldn't back down damnit!." Vince assured her.

"Alright, then where do Nattie and I come into play here?" Aiden asked.

"Well during the match, Nexus is seemingly going to get the upper hand, then Chris's entrance music is going to hit, and you're going to run down to the ring, and hit the flying head butt on Mike McGillicutty damnit!." Vince explained.

Why the hell would you allow the daughter of Chris Benoit to do the headbutt that caused the mental problems that lead to him KILLING HIS WIFE AND SON?! What kind of cultural blindness do you have to have to even consider that?

"Yeah…wow I haven't seen him in a long time. This is going to be weird. It's my debut, yet I know all of the men in the ring." Aiden shook her head.

"Well your distraction is going to cause a disqualification, but it then turns into a battle royal.



Nattie, this is when you run down to the ring as well. You're going to help Aiden here get out of being thrown from the ring, and this part of the match is completely up to you Aiden, alright flibbertygibbet!?"

"What do you want me to do Vince?"

"You and Nattie are going to take down David Otunga and you're going to lock him in the Crossface. If you aren't okay with that, then Nattie can hook him in the Sharpshooter gosh darn it gee willikers!."

The Crossface is fine. It's a relatively painless move so long as you don't suffer a psychotic break and actually hurt someone. Why the hell is she doing the headbutt though?

Aiden took a minute to think about it. "I'll do it. I know Dad would love if I took Raw by storm and kicked ass using his moves. So I'll do it. What happens after this?"

If there's any justice in the world, the entire spectacle gets booed out of the building.

"Mason Ryan is going to pull you off of David and attempt to hit you but Randy is going to RKO him and Chris is going to pull you away, while Nattie gets 'saved' by Dean. How does this all sound to you two dagnabit!?" Vince asked.

Nattie reached over and grabbed Aiden's hand. "If little sis is ok with it then so am I. I just expect someone to tell DH and Tyson so they don't come out and ruin anything."

Because, as trained professionals, two wrestlers would jump into the middle of a scripted segment and ruin it.

Do you understand that wrestling is fake? I'm only about half sure you do at this point.


"I've already planned this out and the two will be in a meeting with me so they know nothing of what's going on gadzooks!." Vince replied.

The meeting will consist of Vince staring them both down while they fidget awkwardly. It's how McMahons assert their dominance.

"Alright then. What do you think Aiden?" Nattie asked.

"It's a lot to take in, but I've done both of those moves hundreds of times and I know we can pull it off Nattie. So Vince, this sounds good. Is there anything else you need me to do beforehand?"

"Try to keep your face as much out of sight as possible, it's going to make next Monday even more exciting. You go get ready with Nattie and we'll have somebody round you up when it's time to head to the ring fudge!."

Everything was now settled and the girls said goodbye to Vince before hurrying back to the Diva's locker room to get ready.

"Okay, I need to change into something appropriate for the ring." Aiden said as soon as the door closed behind them.

It took her a few hours, but Natalya finally convinced Aiden that her Jeffrey Dahmer cosplay may not make the best impression.

"You and me both. Let's do this. I swear I feel like we're getting ready for a match in FCW again." Nattie laughed.

"Me too Nat, me too."

Aiden changed into black tights with blue claw mark designs in them similar to the ones that Chris once wore, along with a black tank top and her black wrestling boots. She was finishing pulling on her pads when Nattie got her attention.

Thankfully the stereotypical fanfiction dress up montage was mercifully short.

"What do ya think about the new ring gear?" she asked, doing a twirl.

"Sexy as always. What about me?" Aiden did a similar twirl and Nattie laughed.

"You always look good my dear. Now, what are you going to do with your hair?"

Oh dear, did I speak too soon?

"Uhm…have it down? It's up to my shoulders now to it's not that much to deal with and hair pulling isn't legal remember?" Aiden teased.

You know what else isn't legal? Murder. That didn't stop some people from doing it though.

"Alright, alright, I give up." Nattie shook her head. "You never change do you?"

"Nope, but that's why you love me." Aiden reminded her and pulled a brush through her dirty blonde hair.

Hold on a minute. Guys, I think I just found the only person in the world who is delusional enough and hates change enough to date Mykan!

"Yeah I do. Oh I just thought I should say, I love how we both have weird colors in our hair."

OMG I soooo care about that~!

"I figured it was time to do something crazy with mine. I like it though, on both of us." Nattie nodded and finished up her last minute things.

Another knock sounded on the door, and the same crew member stuck their head in again. "Vince says everything's about to start and he wants you to hear what's being said."

"Alright, thank you." Aiden stood and took one last look at her appearance before she and Nattie linked arms and followed the crew member.

There was a time when the two would tell everyone that together, they were invincible and they would be the greatest tag team ever. Maybe Aiden would have to bring this up to Nattie after the nights festivities had ended.

Pft. Women aren't given screen time, you silly girl.

XXXXX

Keep your shitty ass fighting type Mewtwo to yourself.

"The men here in this ring before you are here to remind all of you of a fallen wrestler who left us four years ago today." Dean Malenko began to address the crowd.

Dean Malenko never was one for promos.

"Chris Benoit, The Rabid Wolverine, whatever you called him he was an amazing talent in the ring and a great guy outside of it. The five of us, we've decided that we aren't going to stand for not being able to talk about our friend anymore without worry of getting suspended. It's total bull, and it stops right here."

Vince McMahon literally kills people who even bring up the fact that Chris Benoit existed.

Which is why he allowed this promo to happen.

And is setting up this whole scenario to debut his daughter.

Wait a minute...


Dean stopped speaking and motioned to Rey that it was his turn.

As Rey lifted the microphone towards his lips, CM Punk's music hit and out walked the five members of the new Nexus.

You don't need to know who any of those people are. Just pretend that NSync is getting into a gang war with the Jackson Five, except in this incarnation Michael didn't diddle any kids.

Punk waited for his music to stop playing before lifting his own microphone, sneering at the men in the ring.

"So you wanna talk about Chris Benoit huh? Hmm, I think that's funny. I don't see why anyone would want to talk about him. It wasn't as though he was any good in or out of the ring-"

Before Punk could continue, Chris Jericho stepped forward. "I seem to recall Stephanie McMahon saying that if Chris had faced you for the title, he would've won it."

Context: Benoit was scheduled to face CM Punk for the ECW Championship the weekend he killed his family. I did some digging, and couldn't find anything confirming that Stephanie McMahon said that, but I assume it's true. Either way, I'm dumbfounded that the author could dredge up such an irrelevant detail, when she couldn't even recall that he had kids before he married Nancy Benoit.

"Ah, bringing that up. That's real cute Jericho. As I remember it, we won't know if that would've happened because…oh right, because he didn't show up that night." Punk smirked, along with the rest of his followers.

Rey let out a string of colorful words in Spanish and Randy Orton had to physically restrain him from leaping out of the ring at the Nexus.

Vaguely mentioning that someone didn't show up to a show? Unforgivable. Killing your wife and son? Hey, who's the real victim here?

Before things could carry out any further, the sound of the Anonymous General manager was heard throughout the arena.

"If I could have your attention please," Michael Cole started, as Jerry "The King" Lawler rolled his eyes. "I have just received an e-mail from the Anonymous Raw General Manager."

He walked over to the podium where the laptop sat, and settled his glasses onto his nose before opening the computer. "And I quote; 'Before this little showdown goes any further, I'm going to step in and have it finished where it needs to be settled. There is going to be a five on five tag team match between the Nexus, and Team Malenko. It's going to happen right now, and if Nexus loses, they must publicly apologize to Chris Benoit's family.'"

”What's left of it, anyway.”

The Nexus of course protested saying that it was unfair, but Punk held up a hand and quietly spoke to them.

The five men in the ring pulled off their Chris Benoit shirts and tossed them out into the crowd, ready to beat Nexus within an inch of their lives. They stood in the corner, figuring out who would start out the match.

"I'll do it. They won't expect it from me, I haven't wrestled in a few years, and they'll think I've lost my touch." Dean decided.

...To repeat my comment from earlier, you do know that it's fake, right? I'm really having a hard time telling.

"Alright man, just be careful." Hunter told him.

"I'm still wondering what the surprise towards the end of the match is gonna be." Randy said what everyone was thinking out loud.

"None of us know dude, and Nexus doesn't either, so let's hope it's going to work in our favor." Chris replied.

Haha...You're serious? None of the people actually involved in the heavily choreographed physical encounter know what the plan is? That's insanely dangerous. That's “Chris Benoit in a daycare” dangerous.

I hate to sound like every person I've ever told I like wrestling to, but you know it's fake, right?


"Good enough for me." Rey was bouncing up and down slightly, getting ready for the match. Nexus had made their way to the ring, and it was decided that David Otunga would start off against Dean.

"You sure you wanna do this old man?" David taunted.

"I'll make you wish you'd never been born kid." Dean growled as the bell rang.

The match started off in the favor of Team Malenko, but Nexus quickly turned the tables on them when the ref wasn't looking.

They literally rotated a bunch of tables they found under the ring. It confused the shit out of Dean Malenko, and gave the Nexus the advantage.

This went on for about ten minutes, Mason Ryan squaring up against Rey and keeping him in the ring for as long as he could. He had tried to pin the much smaller man several times to no avail, which only caused Punk to yell at him.

"If you can't get the job done, tag somebody else in!"

Mason glared at the self proclaimed leader of Nexus but did as he was ordered. He tagged in Mike McGillicutty and watched as he started to further beat Rey down off.

This was not meant to be as entrance music hit that nobody had heard for four long years. Everybody in and around the ring stopped in their tracks and stared up the ramp.

BAH GAWD! It's Anna Nicole Smith! She's back from the dead and is threatening to marry everyone who doesn't like Chris Benoit!

King and Cole were trying to explain to the people watching at home what exactly was going on but even this was a shock to them.

A girl came tearing down the ramp with a purpose and slid into the ring. She was sure Rey was out of the way before grabbing McGillicutty and forcing him down onto the canvas.

Like father, like daughter.

She quickly scaled the ropes and hit her target with the flying head butt and grinned in satisfaction as he rolled out of the ring, obviously in pain.

The next person into the ring was Otunga and he charged at her for a clothesline but missed by a mile when she ducked easily under his outstretched arm. When he turned, she planted a boot into his chest, using all her body weight to make him tumble over the top rope.

Pft. Diva's getting in offense against men. Next thing you know they'll want to vote.

Punk now walked into the ring, ignoring the protests from Eric Harris, and Ryan from Gym class and stood even with the girl.

"I don't know what you think you're doing out here interfering in a match like this, but you obviously don't know who runs this show. Now I suggest you get back to wherever you came from and we can forget that this ever happened." Punk pointed towards the ramp.

"You don't own this show, and you sure as hell don't tell me what to do." she shoved Punk hard, and when he was far enough back, she kicked him in the side of the head.

In all of the confusion, the bell had been rung, signaling a DQ but nobody was sure of what was going to happen now.

Well, generally in a disqualification situation, people head to the back while looking angry at each other. For some reason though, this is supposed to become a battle royal, or something.

Good thing the performers knew nothing about it beforehand!


Husky, and Mason, along with David and Mike weren't sure exactly what to do.

Fuck. This author just made me realize that everyone in the New Nexus had terribly bland names. Forget Cactus Jack and the Undertaker, I'm going to be intimidated by the team of David and Mike.

David took it upon himself to start towards her while Team Malenko busied themselves, rushing and taking out the other standing members of Nexus.

David was about to attempt to get the girl off her feet when he heard music he knew very well from the early days of Nexus. He should've expected something like this from the Hart Dynasty, but he was floored to see Natalya running for the ring.

'The hell is going on here' he thought to himself.

Very good question, David. It seems as if Vince McMahon finally lost his mind from all the steroid abuse and booked a segment where no one who's supposed to know what's going on does.

Natalya wasted no time in getting in the ring and helping the girl beat the crap out of David. Natalya hit him with a Russian leg sweep and sent him to the canvas on his back. She and the girl flipped him over and the girl applied the Crippler Crossface.

Within seconds, David was tapping out but he soon realized that it wasn't going to help him seeing as this wasn't an actual match and there were no rules.

Rules are for fools, and people who don't care about the safety of others.

Big Boss Man wouldn't have let this shit slide...


He stayed locked into the submission hold for what felt like forever until he felt the girls hold release him.

Somehow, Mason Ryan had managed to slide into the ring and grab the girl up. He threw her into the ring post and went to swing on her, but before he could connect, Randy hit him with the RKO and the girl slid out of the ring before her face could be clearly seen.

Stupid, sexy Randy Orton, screwing up Mason's keybowl party.

Because, you know...swinging.


Jericho had all but shoved Natalya out of the way before executing the Code Breaker on Otunga who couldn't seem to take the hint of give up.

Natalya grabbed the girls arm and raised her arm in victory before the two fled up the ramp and fled backstage.

XXXXX

I bet you kiss your Aggron when no one's looking and cry yourself to sleep pretending that Tyranitar wasn't objectively the better trade off.

As soon as Nattie and Aiden made it past the Gorilla position, both girls broke into a fit of giggles.

Context: Gorilla is the area right before the stage/entrace. It's where most of the producers and Vince McMahon orchestrate the broadcast of the event. I could have ignored that detail and made a sexual joke about Natalya and Aiden being in the “Gorllia position,” but I am far too sophisticated for such lowbrow humor.

Hehe, keybowl party.


"My god that had to be the most amazing thing I've ever been a part of." Nattie smiled.

"Oh I think I may have made a slight impact on the WWE Universe tonight." Aiden looked up and sighed. "I love you Dad, I know you're watching, and I hope you're proud. I miss you."

At that moment, the camera pans down into the center of the Earth. A bewildered Chris Benoit looks up and wonders where the hell she's looking.

Nattie just drew her friend into a hug. "He would have thrown a shit fit had Vince brought that whole thing up to him you know that right?"

"Yeah, but he knew how stubborn I am. He wouldn't have put up too much of a fight." Aiden grinned.

Ironically, those were Chris Benoit's last words.

"This is true. So are you ready to face Team Malenko or would you like to get changed first?"

"No time like the present I guess. I just hope they aren't mad."

"Mad wouldn't quite be the word to describe it kid. More like confused…mostly confused. What the hell was that?" Dean asked from behind them.

Aiden slowly turned around. "Well Uncle Dean, that was my WWE debut. I think I did pretty well."

"Aiden Christine Benoit, how dare you not tell me you were going to be the one out there tonight?" Dean demanded.

Well shucks. It appears I gave Aracnea too much credit in picking a name for Chris Benoit's daughter that wasn't some variant of Chris.

Shame on me.


"I was sworn to secrecy, and hello to you too, it's not like it hasn't been a few years or anything."

Aiden picked up her promo skills from her uncle Dean.

Dean picked her up and spun her around in a hug. "I'm sorry kiddo, I was just angry. I didn't know it was you at first, and then I was, oh hell, forget it. You did great tonight."

"I think we all have to agree on that one." Chris added.

"Aiden, you're taller than me now, this is not fair." Rey teased, going to give the girl a hug as well.

"I kinda couldn't help it Rey, I'm sorry." Aiden laughed.

Team Malenko travels by clown car, I see.

She then hugged Chris, Hunter and Randy. "I am sorry I didn't tell you guys, I was just doing what Vince told me to do. Tonight's been in the works for about two months now."

"Understandable. So you're finally in the big leagues. I'm proud of ya sis." Randy laid a hand on her shoulder.

"I knew you would be. I'm so happy I made it. I never thought I would. Not with Lisa anyway."

Aiden shook her head, and leaned against Randy's tall frame.

Randy always treated her as a sister, much like Nattie, and DH did.

Never would have guessed, considering he called her “sis.” You showed and didn't tell, and then you told. Come on.

"Here's the deal, you go get cleaned up, and then we have a standing date with the SmackDown! roster. You'll be going with and saying hi to everyone over there." Chris suggested.

"Who all's on the blue show now?" Aiden wondered aloud as they began walking back towards the locker room.

"Well, Edge and Christian, though they don't tag together anymore. Taker, Kane, Big Show-" Rey began to list.

"Uncle Paul…oh I hope he didn't see what I just did…he's gonna go all overprotective bear mode and I won't be allowed to leave his side for a month." Aiden groaned.

Once at the Big Show's side, no one can leave for a month anyway.

He's fat.


"That's all on you kid." Dean laughed, ruffling her hair.

"Ugh, ok who else?"

"Well, I am, I was only here tonight for obvious reasons," Rey continued. "Three of the guys from the original Nexus are over there now. Callin' themselves The Corre along with Ezekiel Jackson. Don't you watch SmackDown anymore chica?" Rey asked.

No one watches SmackDown anymore.

"I haven't really had time to lately. I always made a point to watch Raw because that was the show I was going to debut on but I've been so busy training and such, Friday's are pretty busy for me." Aiden explained.

"We've all been there. But now you're here and the little free time you have left is spent in hotels all over the place." Hunter laughed.

Is Triple H trying to make a move on her? I think he'd have to get in line behind Natalya, Randy Orton and everyone else in this fic.

"It's something I remember from when I was little and I still actually got to spend time with Dad. I think I'll adjust ok." Aiden told them.

"Well we'll let you two get changed, and then you should meet us out back. Sound good?" Chris asked.

"Yeah we'll be there." Aiden gave a round of hugs and then waved goodbye before walking into the locker room with Nattie.

"I wonder how exactly Chris would be taking this if he was here today." Randy said.

Probably as well as a chair shot to the head.

I don't know what I'm implying, but I love wrestling.


"I don't know. I remember her 10th birthday, me and Eddie were talking to him about it and he seemed to not want it then. But he understood why she wanted to and when she did start wrestling he was so supportive of her. I think he'd be happy for her." Dean told him.

"All he wanted was for her to be happy and have everything she wanted. Now she has that. I can see him and Eddie freakin' out about it though." Rey laughed.

The guys continued talking amongst themselves while making their way to the locker room.

I have decided to end this story with a poem I plagiarized from none other than the late, great, Big Boss Man himself. I feel it is relevant, and I dedicate it to all of the imaginary children of Chris Benoit.

Ahem.

'With the deepest regrets, and tears that are soaked
I'm sorry to hear that your dad finally croaked
He lived a full life on his own terms
Soon he'll be buried and eaten by worms
But if I had a daughter as stupid as you
I'd have wished for brain damage so I would die too
So be brave, and be strong, get your life on track
'Cause the old bastard's DEAD and he ain't never comin' back!'

The end.






I'm not sure this is actually fanfiction. It's more of a fantasy. A day dream from some teenager that just really loved Chris Benoit. I still find it hard to believe though, that a thinking person wrote this all down, and thought to themselves, “Yeah, this is good. This isn't totally self-indulgent wank. People need to experience this.” It'd almost be forgivable if it were just some Inuyasha self-insert. But it wasn't. It was someone literally fantasizing about getting pushed as Chris Benoit's daughter. How delusional do you have to be at that point?

If you're really that interested, the Chris Benoit story may have a happy ending. His death triggered a very deep look at how WWE treats it's employees. They're still not perfect, but the wellness polices they enacted and the way they treat major injuries had improved by leaps and bounds. Accidents still happen, but at least we'll probably never see another Dynamite Kid situation. Moreover, his older son, David, is also trying to break into the business. The difference between his story and what Aracnea dribbled off her chin is that David will have a hard time because of what his father did. People aren't going to magically forgive him and hoist David as a hero. He'll have to earn his way in, and who knows, maybe he'll be able to get to WWE and redeem the Benoit name. It's cool stuff to think, and it doesn't involve pretending to be CM Punk's best friend, or the WWE doing some ridiculous volte-face.

Oh well. The final story in this trilogy will be something a bit more standard. Less “morally dubious” and more “irritatingly stupid.” More comfortable and normal. And by “normal,” I mean, of course, gay. Yay wrestling!


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Post #7
truthordeal


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post Mar 30 2016, 04:39 AM
Let's end this by returning to something a bit more familiar. Something that makes sense.

Wrestling and gay love stories are basically made for each other, and Chris Benoit isn't lucky enough to escape that line, even in hell. Benoit's most commonly paired butt-buddy is a dude named Eddie Guerrero. Eddie is, to this day, probably one of the WWE's most beloved performers, generally regarded as one of the most charismatic and lovable wrestlers of all time. He died in 2005 from heart failure, which was caused by an addiction to drugs he had worked years to overcome. Unlike Benoit, Eddie died as a victim of circumstances and is generally revered by fans and the WWE alike. He was also one of Benoit's closest real life friends, the two of them being brought up together in WCW. It's often speculated that Benoit's mental health deteriorated even futher following Guerrero's death, making the breakdown that led to the Benoit double-murder-suicide come that much sooner.

To fanfic writers, this is basically proof that Chris Benoit was secretly gay for Eddie Guerrero. You'd think, “hey, writing about potential illicit affairs between two wrestlers might be in bad taste given our subject,” but then again, if fanfic writers ever thought anything, fanfiction probably wouldn't exist. Tonight's fic also has the double indemnity of being an Alternate Universe fic, in which Benoit and Guerrero don't actually fight anyone, so much as squabble at each other in very mundane circumstances. Yay!



Eddie Guerrero


Real Name: Eddie Guerrero.

Occupation: Liar, Cheater, Stealer, Professional Mexican.

Nicknames: Latino Heat.

Accomplishments: WWE Champion, US Champion, Once Stole Ric Flair's Balls, Defeated Brock Lesnar, WWE Hall of Fame Class of 2006, Is Actually Rey Mysterio's Son's Father.

Relationship Status: Deceased.

Finishing Move: The Frog Splash, The Lasso From El Paso, Three Amigos Suplex (that's not a joke).

Likes: Lying, cheating, stealing, Rey Mysterio's wife and ten year old son.

Dislikes: Fanfiction. Because Eddie's cool and fuck you, ese.

Misc.: After his passing, his wife ended up holding a longer tenure with WWE than he did. She was so despised that a fan once made a sign declaring that the wrong Guerrero died.


Blank Space, by synystermoxley

Chapter 1: Beautiful Brown Car


Chris’ car was what most people would call a piece of junk, but to him, it had a class all its own.

That class wasn't autoshop, however.

Sure the backseat door on the driver’s side didn’t open. Sure, the back passenger’s side window didn’t roll down. Sure, there was a mismatched patch of paint on the front passenger’s side. Sure, The Horn blared every time he opened the driver’s door. But he loved his car. Why?

Because he, like this author, enjoys terrible things?

Well if you were to ask him in the presence of his father. He’d say, “It’s the small flaws in things that make them beautiful” Which was mostly true. But if you were to ask him about when his father wasn’t around, he would add, “And it makes my father crazy that his only son would drive something like this.”Hey, if he couldn’t rebel against the Benoit Family business, he reserved the right to rebel against the Benoit family image.

Well...I think that's been thoroughly accomplished.

He smiled at the thought, lazily pulling his arm up to start the engine. It started fine and he started to pull out of his spot, but suddenly, a loud incessant clanking noise startled Chris bolt upright in his seat.

“Don’t do this to me…” He said, slowly rubbing the steering wheel as if it would do somehow soothe his car. But the clanking continued. Chris stopped and dropped his head onto the steering wheel, knowing he was going to have to take it into a mechanic shop. He sighed. He didn’t know any mechanics. A friend of his father’s (Who had so many cars, he need four garages) had suggested a shop called Guerrero’s, saying it was the best shop.

And he should know. He was personal friends with every auto mechanic in the world.

Chris frowned. He did not want to deal with this right now. He wanted to drive home and drink a cold bear.

That's not a typo. If Chris Benoit wants to drink goddamned bears, what are you going to do to stop him? Nothing, that's what!

Watch a late show. But he had to be at work early the next morning; he’d have to ride with his father. He shuddered at the thought. The mechanic’s shop was definitely starting to sound better. And maybe he could leave it in the shop and go get a bear while the mechanic worked on his car! Now that was a plan he could get behind.

Hell yeah, I love drunk driving. Vehicular manslaughter gets me hard as fuck!

Chris was wary as he pulled up to the shop. There were dozens of cars in the parking lot; each of them with dazzling paint jobs…cars that, if he owned one, would make his father beam.

Sounds like a good mechanic then. Quit being a bitch.

He wrinkled his nose as he pulled into a space and shut off his engine next to a robin's-egg blue '57 Shelby Cobra, which he recognized as belonging to his father's friend (Boy, he hoped he wouldn't run into him here). He was so caught up in his thoughts as he watched the mechanics polish the Shelby, he didn't notice a man in a dirty blue denim shirt walking up to him, wiping his hands on a red mechanic's rag with an eyebrow raised.

"Evening'. Car trouble? I heard you driving up from a mile away, ese."

Startled, Chris whipped his head around to look at the man. He had a dirty mess of dark hair and was chewing on a toothpick. Chris straightened gayed himself up and opened his door, standing up and addressing the shorter man. The mechanic was surprised by the sound of the horn when the door was opened, so Chris stepped aside and shut it.

"Uh, yes. It started fine, but when I turned to get out of the parking lot, it started making a clanking noise…"

The mechanic made a face at the car and walked right past him toward the other side. He leaned over, examining the vehicle up-close like he was a jeweler or something. Chris stopped talking, a little irked that the mechanic wasn't listening to him. Suddenly, the mechanic stood up and nodded at Chris.

"What's a pretty blonde like you doin' drivin' an old piece of trash like this?"



Man, look at this blonde bombshell with the brunette hair.

Chris glared. He decided he did not like this mechanic.

God, don't you just hate it when your mechanics talk to you?

"First of all, it's not 'a piece of trash', and second of all, I don't remember asking you for your opinion on my car!"

Yeah you did. You brought your car to his place, didn't you?

The mechanic smirked. "Oh, but you did. You brought your car here, didn't you?" he said, taking the toothpick out of his mouth and gesturing at Chris with it.

Shut the fuck up, Eddie, no one asked you.

"Can't fix a car unless I got opinions, and the important ones are gonna cost you. Señor …"

Chris narrowed his eyes. "Benoit. Chris Benoit."

The mechanic raised a brow. "Oh, Señor Benoit, son of the lawyer." He curtsied jokingly. "Eddie Guerrero, at your service."

The Benoit Law Firm, specializing in domestic violence and infanticide cases.

Chris rolled his eyes. Oh, boy…just another place where his reputation preceded him.

And this little pipsqueak was Guerrero? Honestly, he'd thought he'd be taller.

If my mechanic isn't 6 foot 4 and roided to the gills then they're just not good enough.

"What can I do ya for, Benny?" said Eddie, smiling and putting the toothpick back into his mouth.

Chris glared some more. "Please don't call me that. I didn't come here for you to patronize me, I came here for you to fix my car."

Guerrero chuckled. "Calmate , blondie, I'm only kidding you!"

I still don't know where the blonde thing comes from. Even in his earlier days when he had a mullet, he was never blonde.

Chris got in Guerrero's face. "Well, sorry if I'm not in the mood for your jokes! Now, will you please fix my car!?"

Guerrero seemed taken aback and pointed a finger into Chris’ chest.

His back will be a-taken, I assure you.

"Sorry, pendejo, but I don't like your tone or your ugly car! Now if you're gonna keep shouting at me like that, you can take your attitude and that piece of junk off my lot and forget about me fixing anything!"

Chris was seething, but he really needed his car. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. It's…been a long day, and I guess I'm just...a little grumpy from work."

Plus, he's incredibly sensitive about people trying to be friendly with him.

Guerrero scoffed. "A little grumpy?" He raised a brow at the blonde as he walked past him.

"Now. You said you started your car, went to turn out of the lot, and she started making a clanking noise, am I right?"

Chris was surprised. The guy had been listening to him after all. He nodded and they both walked over to the car.

It's almost as if people are capable of listening while holding a conversation.

Men, am I right?


"Would you pop the hood?" Guerrero said.

Chris did as he was told.

Guerrero ducked his head under the hood and started looking around. Chris craned his neck trying to see what Guerrero was doing under there, but all he could see as he leaned out of the window was the mechanic's back end.

I do believe that Mr. Guerrero is giving Mr. Benoit the vapors.

He uncomfortably leaned back into his seat and listened to Guerrero mutter as he dug around the engine block, checking fluids, rattling things...after a while, he got out of the car and walked around to the front, watching Guerrero as he bent over the engine block. Guerrero's behavior and his messed up hair reminded Chris of stories he'd once read about mad scientists. He swallowed back a laugh.

Finally, Guerrero stood up again, clicking his tongue and wiping his hands on that red rag. "Well, I'm sorry to say this, Benny, but this car is a mess. You have a power steering fluid leak, you need a new fan belt, you need an oil change, and that's only the stuff I've noticed so far. I still have to raise 'er up and take a look at your differential to see if it's the cause of the clanking noise."

”Also the paint job needs more badass flames on the side. It makes your car go faster, ese.”

Chris shook his head and handed Guerrero the car keys. "Ok, but…I just want the clanking fixed. It was driving fine before that started, and I have to be at work early tomorrow."

Guerrero raised a brow. "Sabes, Benny, if we don't fix the rest of this stuff, you'll have to come right back when something else breaks. And with a piece of junk like this, it won't be long."

Chris felt himself getting angry again, but he forced his voice to be calm. "Please, just fix the clanking noise. I'll deal with the rest of it later."

You know, if you wanted a piece of shit car to embarass your parents with, you could've just bought a slightly more usable piece of shit car.

Guerrero shrugged a shoulder and saluted. "Esta bien, Benny. Just the clanking noise. You'll have to give me about five hours, holmes."

Silly Eddie. Chris Benoit isn't Sherlock Holmes. He's not smart enough.

Chris' shoulders sagged. "That'll be after 10 pm."

Brilliant deduction, Watson.

Guerrero nodded. "That's right. Lucky you. I usually close at nine." He walked past Chris, winking at him as he went.

Chris felt uncomfortable again, though he wasn't sure why.

Any sort of social interaction makes Chris uncomfortable. You gotta wonder why he's a lawyer.

Chris watched as Guerrero opened the door, grimaced at the horn sound, got in, quickly shut the door, started the car, struggled to turn the car around, and finally drove it into his garage. He walked into the garage just in time to catch Guerrero muttering "You call that a turning radius bicameral legislature? Sheesh."

Chris cleared his throat. "Uh, is there a…bar or…something like that around here where I could get some food?"

Guerrero was attaching chains to the car and didn't look up. "Yeah…there's a bar down the street called Austin's, as a matter of fact…" He stopped to sniff and wipe his nose on the back of his hand. "They've got good beer and great hamburgers; if that's the kind of stuff you're into."

Chris furrowed his brows. "And just what kind of stuff do you think I'm into?"

8====D

Guerrero stopped to look up at Chris. "Don't worry. With a tub like this, you sure don't strike me as the fancy type."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Just tell me what direction it's in."

Guerrero chuckled. "North down 28th. It's got a big orange sign. You can't miss it."

”It's right next to the Anoa'i Family Gaykery. It's like a bakery, except gay. You would love it.”

Chris frowned and started to walk away.

"Hey, Benny, if you get a chance, bring me back some of the meatloaf. It's the best."

Chris looked back to see a big lopsided smirk on the mechanic's face. He turned around and kept walking.

"What does he think I am?! Some kind of…" He sighed.

...Guy who's willing to do a favor for a dude who's been nothing but nice to him? No, Chris. I don't know how he could've gotten that impression.

Getting all worked up over a mechanic he'd never see again after that day was just not worth his time. He took a deep breath and walked off down 28th, soon seeing the big orange sign Guerrero had told him about.

Chris walked into the bar and sat down at one of the round tables. Soon, a pretty waitress walked up to his table.

"What can I get for ya, sugar?"

Chris took great offense to this remark.

Chris smiled a dopey smile. "Uhh…I'll take a hamburger and the lightest bear you have."

She smiled back and wrote something down on her book. "Lettuce, tomato, mayo and mustard alright?"

Don't forget all the salt and vinegar.

Chris nodded the dumb smile still on his face.

"Fries or onion rings?" She asked.

"Surprise me," Chris blurted.

The waitress then stabbed Benoit's hand with a fork and shouted “surprise!”

She laughed and closed her book. "Okay, sugar. That'll be right out."

He appreciatively watched her backside as she walked over to the bar and said something to the bartender.

He could distinctly hear her mutter something about “onion rings for the pussy.” Chris didn't know what to make of that.

The bartender nodded and walked over to the taps, pouring a light bear. He walked out to Chris’ table and set the bear down.

"Welcome to Austin's. I ain’t ever seen you around here before, what's your name?"

"Uh, Chris. Nice to meet you, Mr…"

The muscular man smiled and shook Chris’ hand. "Steve Austin himself, owner of this establishment; It's a pleasure, Chris."

I'm kicking myself for not having made this connection earlier. Good going, me. I totally Benoit'd that situation.

Chris smiled at him. It was nice to meet someone for once who didn't associate him with his father.

It's almost as if not mentioning your last name makes people not know who your family is.

"So, what's a fancy dude like you doing on this side of town at this time of day?" Austin said, gesturing to Chris’ suit. Chris looked down; he'd almost forgotten that he was wearing it.

It's like he was wearing nothin' at all...nothin' at all...nothin' at all!

"Oh…I'm getting my car fixed. I walked down here from Gue—"

"Guerrero’s!" Austin finished the sentence for him with a big smile on his face. "How's that cat doing? He must be busy, I ain't seen him in here in a long time!"

Chris blinked. How could anybody like that joker so much?

It's not anybody, Chris. It's just anybody who doesn't have a rancid, rusty spoonful of daddy issues rammed up their ass that can like him.

"Uhh he's…just as…crass as ever."

Austin laughed aloud. "Ah, that's real special! You tell him Austin said hello when you go pick up your ride, huh? Enjoy your food."

”Or else,” he mysteriously added.

Austin patted Chris on the shoulder as he walked off to meet another customer.

Chris recoiled at this affront to his personal space and freedom of movement.

Chris rested his elbow on the table and dropped his chin into his hand. It seemed like that rude mechanic was well-liked. Chris smirked. Maybe it was because he was the only one who liked this place's meatloaf.

One delicious hamburger, sixteen onion rings, two bears, one piece of apple pie a la mode, three and a half glasses of water, and a solo game of darts later, Chris looked up at the clock. 9:16.

Austin 9:16 says “I just wiped that glass!”

Cleanliness and sanitation are both very important to being a bartender, after all.


He sighed, contemplating whether or not to get another bear. He decided against it; it was too close to the time that Guerrero had promised he'd be done with his car, and he had to drive home. He sat back down at his table, frowning.

The table had splintered on one side. How dare it accost Chris Benoit in such a way?

He scratched an itch he had on his chest and his thoughts returned to the rude mechanic named Eddie. Where did he get that attitude? What made him think it was ok to talk to potential customers like that? If Chris were to disrespect potential clients like that, he'd get heavily reprimanded.

Which wouldn't be a big deal, except that Benoit Sr. was especially fond of the cattle prod to keep his employees in line.

Chris shook his head. It didn't matter. In a little less than an hour, this would all be over and he could go home, go to bed, and forget all about that rude, messy-haired mechanic.

The phone rang and Austin answered it, a big smile spreading across his face after a second. Chris didn't pay much attention; he just decided Austin must be talking to an old friend.

Chris felt insulted. How could Austin flaunt the fact that he has friends right in front of him like that?

He busied himself with drawing smiley faces in the condensation on his glass of water, an absent-minded grin on his face. He didn't notice Austin hang up the phone, walk into the back, and walk back out with something wrapped in tin foil. He was almost startled when Austin walked up to his table.

"Hey, Chris , that was Guerrero. He says he's done with your car."

Chris blinked and looked at the clock. 9:24. "Really?"

Austin chuckled and put the thing wrapped in tin foil on the table.

"Yeah, he's a real miracle worker, that Guerrero. Fixed my motorcycle in two hours once…"

”Turns out you gotta put keys in the sumbitch before it'll run. Who knew?”

But Chris wasn't paying attention. "What is that?" he said, pointing at the tin foil.

"Meatloaf," said Austin. "You wouldn't mind taking that back to him, would you?"

I think Chris would mind doing literally anything helpful to anyone, including himself.

Chris frowned, but...he was going back that way anyway…

"Sure, why not?"

Austin smiled. "Great. Thanks. Be safe, brother," and with that, Austin walked back behind the bar.

Chris picked up the meatloaf, frowning at it. He was a little irked that he hadn't even protested about taking it to Eddie.

Stupid Chris, making things inconvenient for Chris. God, Chris hated Chris.

He shrugged. Guerrero had finished his car early. Maybe he deserved a little extra.

Chris walked back south on 28th toward Guerrero's shop, noticing as he got there that all of the cars with the shiny paint jobs were gone, except for a red chevy impala 1964 lowrider parked in the corner. He frowned at it. The color made it look like a tomato.

I wish Chris would learn to judge cars by the content of their character, not the color of their body.

Suddenly, the garage door opened, and out drove his beautiful brown car…except it didn't whine when it turned anymore and the clanking noise was gone.

If only Eddie could do the same for Chris.

Chris approached the car as Guerrero shut it off and stepped out, wincing at the horn noise and shutting the door as soon as humanly possible. He smiled when he looked up at Chris and saw the foil in his hand.

"Is that my meatloaf?"

Chris held it out to him. "Yeah, yeah, here's your meatloaf."

"Thank you, Benn—sorry. Benoit." Guerrero said, shaking his head as he dug in.

Chris frowned and looked down.

Eddie furrowed his brows and swallowed the bite he had taken.

Meatloaf is not a hand food, Eddie.

"What? You don't like that, either? What am I supposed to call you?"

Chris opened his mouth, but he couldn't think of anything to say.

I have a few suggestions, most of which aren't appropriate for a business environment.

"Just…just not Benoit. My father calls me Benoit,."

The entire Benoit family just calls each other by their last name. It makes things awkward around Christmas time, but Chris did love the lingerie that his father bought for his mother.

Eddie nodded and shrugged. "Ok. Benny it is."

Chris rolled his eyes, but this Guerrero guy did seem a little nicer now that he had some food.

"Alright, how much is this opinion of yours gonna cost me?" Chris said, taking out a checkbook.

About...tree fiddy.

Eddie took another bite of his meatloaf.

"Well," he said with his mouth full, taking a piece of yellow paper out of his pocket and unfolding it. "Looks like you're set back…236.66." He paused to swallow. "That's for the work on the differential and replacing your right front wheel, cos it was bent pretty badly, holmes."

Chris glared. "I thought I told you just to fix the clanking noise."

Quit whining you insufferable prick. It's your damn fault for driving a piece of shit car just so you can passive-aggressively spite your dad because you're too much of a wimp to do anything about it.

Eddie didn't even look up at him, he just kept eating his meatloaf.

"Since you brought me this meatloaf, I'm not even gonna charge you for changing the oil. You know, it's really unsafe driving above 45 miles an hour with a wheel bent like yours was. I mean, I'm sure you felt it start to shimmy as you got up to about 45-55 miles an hour, right?"

Chris was speechless for a second. Maybe this Guerrero guy was actually nice under his ornery exterior.

Maybe Eddie's been cracking jokes about Benoit's mother this whole time and the author just hasn't shown it. I don't get how he's been all that rude otherwise.

"Right...w—You-you're not gonna charge me for changing my oil?"

Are you going to bitch about that too?

Eddie snapped his fingers. "Oh, cierto , and I filled your power steering fluid tank. You're gonna need to keep an eye on it, though, a leak like that drains fluid fast."

Chris blinked at him, then shook his head and filled out the check.

"Hate to say this, Benny, but you're gonna be back, and soon, too. You're lucky this piece of basura lasted this long—no offense intended, just...a statement of fact."

Certain ticks like “ese” and “pendejo” I understand, but the random Spanish the author throws out just seem like cheap ways to remind people that Eddie is Latino.

Chris glared at Eddie as he handed him the check. Then again, maybe he was just rude.

I'm beginning to see why you killed your wife and son. It was to save them from having to listen to you, wasn't it Chris?

"We'll see about that…" Chris said, and then he got into his car and drove home. Four days later, however, he regretted his skepticism.

"Hey," Chris said as he walked up to Eddie  in the garage. "I'm, uh…back."

[Audience Laughter]

"Would it hurt to say I told you so?" Eddie asked, not even looking up from his work.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Ah, stuff it…" he muttered, but Guerrero heard him and laughedeagerly obliged.

"A little frustrated, are we, ese?"

Chris just glared at him.

"Alright, what's wrong with her this time?" Guerrero asked. "Wait, let me guess…" Eddie rubbed his chin with a dirty hand, leaving a black smudge on the right side of his face. He snapped and pointed at Chris

"It's making a shrieking noise when you hit the gas, it's smoking, and it smells like burnt rubber."

That's a very astute assesment of Chris' personality in this stor—Oh you meant the car.

Chris blinked.

"H—how did you know that?"

Eddie just laughed and stuck out his hand for the car keys. "How did I know that?! Hasn't anyone ever told you I'm the best in my field?"

Yeah, a soccer field maybe.

Because he's Mexican, you see.


Chris furrowed his brows and handed over the car keys. Eddie grinned at him.

"You can head over to Austin’s for about four hours this time. I should be done with her by then." He started to walk over to the car, but then stopped. "Oh, and if you bring me some apple pie, I won't charge you for the power steering fluid."

The only pie he should be bringing is grape pie, because he's so full of whine.

He winked and walked over to Chris’ car, entering it from the passenger's side door and scooting over into the driver's seat.

Chris frowned and watched the mechanic drive his car into the garage, much in the same manner he had the previous time he'd been there. He shook his head and walked north toward Austin’s. Something about the way Guerrero winked at him made him wonder about the guy. He was sure he was just imagining things, but…the way Guerrero looked at him, it was almost like he was…hungry?

Yeah, for meatloaf and apple pie. Get him his food and quit being a bitch.

Chris wasn't even sure if that was the right word, but it was the only one he could come up with that remotely fit. It bothered him, sure, but he was positive it was just his imagination, so he stopped thinking about it.

Ah, the same strategy he employed when his granddad was diagnosed with cancer. A classic.


Chapter 2: Unusual You


When he got to Austin’s, he was surprised when the pretty waitress recognized him…and even more surprised when she addressed him as "Benny". So Eddie had been there…and he'd talked about him.

”This pendejo came to my shop hoy. He was a real burro, ese and I want to jodi his kulo, como esta?”

The waitress didn't seem any less nice than she had been the other night, so maybe he hadn't said anything bad? He shook his head and put it out of his mind. This was the last time he'd need Eddie's services, right? So why should he worry about it? Still…He couldn't stop himself from being a little curious as to what Guerrero had to say about him.

”Right up the fucking kulo, amigo!”

He had only been at Austin's for two hours when Austin showed up at his table, this time with a cardboard takeout box.

"Guerrero's pie," Austin said.

"He said he asked you to bring it to him."

Chris was about to say something about not being a delivery boy, but he bit back the comment when he remembered that Eddie had agreed not to charge him for power steering fluid if he brought it to him pussied out like always.

"Yep," he said through his teeth. "He did that."

Austin smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"You're a saint. Take care, ok?"

My only real complaint about Stone Cold's involvement in this story is that he doesn't call people sumbitches enough. If he had just laid one Stunner on Benoit at any point, this fic would be instantly redeemed.

Chris nodded back at Austin as he left to go visit his other customers.

Chris walked south, back to Guerrero's shop, passing Seth Rollins' S&M Crossfit Gym along the way, with the cardboard takeout box in his hands. There were still other shiny cars in the parking lot, but none of them were the same as last time…except that red tomat—Lowrider—was still in the corner parking spot. He wondered what was wrong with it, if it was still there after four days. He was still looking at it when Guerrero walked up to him.

"That my pie?" he said, nodding to the box.

Chris handed it over. "Yep, Austin warmed it up for you, too."

Come on now, I just said that this story's depiction of Stone Cold was fine. Don't make him gay too.

Eddie smiled and opened the box, taking a second to smell the pie.

"Mmmm smell that? That's a welcome change from breathing in motor oil and rubber all day, I can tell you that…"

"How much, Guerrero?"

$69. That's the discount price for fags.

Eddie stopped smelling his pie and looked at Chris for a second with a new, unreadable look on his face that made Chris just as uncomfortable as the winks. Eddie smiled and closed his takeout box, taking a piece of that yellow paper out of his pocket and unfolding it.

"That's...124.82 for replacing the fan belt and cleaning up a bit, and one slice of pie," He held it up, "for filling your power steering tank."

I wish I could find a mechanic that's that cheap.

Chris filled out the check and handed it to Guerrero, sticking a hand out for his keys.

Eddie looked at Chris' hand before placing the keys in his palm.

"You know, Benny…You really ought to let me replace the power steering system. It's in pretty bad shape, holmes."

Chris shook his head. "You just want me to spend more money."

I hate to be the voice of reason, but you're pretty much asking to spend more money by driving a piece of shit car.

"You could've spent less if you'd done it all at once," Eddie countered.

Chris frowned. "But then it would've taken you longer."

Guerrero shrugged. "Woulda stayed up all night if that's what it took,papi."

Random Spanish gibberish aside, Eddie Guerrero is the coolest mechanic in the world. It's a shame that Chris “Waaaah My Dad's Rich” Benoit can't appreciate that.

He looked at Chris, smiling softly, and Chris almost forgot he was that rude, crazy mechanic/thorn in his side. Chris started to feel uncomfortable again as those brown eyes held his gaze and he quickly looked down. Eddie leaned against Chris’ car.

"Well, unless you like the idea of coming here every week, I at least suggest you buy some power steering fluid so you can fill it every few days until you get the system replaced."

Chris was still trying to shake off Eddie's gaze. "Maybe later," he said, opening his car door and smiling when he heard the horn.

Doctor: You should probably get your stomach pumped. All that dick you've been eating is going to give you an infection.

Chris Benoit: Maybe later.


Eddie was grimacing. "You like that?" Washington Redskins Quarterback Kirk Cousins shouted over the horn.

"What? I can't hear you," Chris said, smiling at him and getting in the car.

Guerrero looked perplexed for a second...and then he started laughingfarting.

Chris closed the door and rolled down his window. "What's so funny?"

"I get it," Eddie said. "You like it because when you open your door and get into your car, you don't have to listen to your father, right?"

Nah. He probably does it so he doesn't have to listen to himself.

Chris was surprised at the mechanic's insight.

"What are you, a shrink now, too?"

Eddie smirked. "Si. And I'm working on becoming a doctor, a lawyer, and a plumber."

Aww. It's nice to have goals, sweetheart.

Chris couldn't help but laugh.

"What, no mad scientist?"

Guerrero put a hand to his chin. "I hadn't thought of that. I'll have to add it to my to do list."

I can't wait for Mechanic Eddie Guerrero to make a cameo in the next season of Rick and Morty.

Chris smiled back. Maybe this Guerrero guy wasn't so bad after all. Chris planned on going in next week for the power steering fluid as he drove away, leaving Eddie in the parking lot with his pie

Eating his pie, all alone. Naturally.

Chris sat in his small office in the law firm where he worked.

Located down the street from Edge and Christian's Edgy Christian Bookstore and right across from the Kevin Sullivan United Church of Satanism.

He was supposed to be working on a brief but he was staring off into space thinking about Eddie Guerrero. For three days Chris hadn't been able to get the mechanic off of his mind. The way those big brown eyes had watched him. So close and direct, almost like Eddie had been studying him. Was Eddie attracted to him? If so, he had no idea how to react to that, because he was definitely uncomfortable each time the mechanic winked or gazed at him for too long. Was he actually uncomfortable or was it him not knowing how to exactly describe how he felt? He hadn't really been attracted or interested in anybody for years. He looked at the wall clock in his office and realized he'd been thinking about the man for a good ten minutes.

The Ray Rice brief was just going to have to wait.

He needed to get his mind on work. He wasn't going to get anything done by day dreaming.

I was waiting for the generic “Character ponders his own navel about whether or not he likes Other Character and if he could be gay” segment. It's such a dumb plot device. It's like, yeah, the character is just sitting by himself wondering if he's gay, and the author thinks that that's worth taking up real estate for. Just show, don't tell. That's a rule for a reason.

"You know, you've been coming here a lot lately," Eddie said from under a vehicle.

Chris furrowed his brows. "How did you know it was me?"

"Nobody else around here wears fancy leather shoes like that, papi."

Chris frowned at Guerrero's legs.

They were too dark.

"So I've been coming around a lot. So what?"

Eddie rolled himself out from under the vehicle.

"Sabes, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were starting to like me or something, papi" he said with a smirk.

”Sabes” is literally “(you) know”. Just say “you know.” We know that Eddie is Latino. You don't need to beat us over the head with it.

Chris felt himself flushing a bit. (´・ω・`)


"I'm here for that power steering fluid," he said flatly.

Eddie smiled, got up, and brushed himself off.

"Why don't you let me fix the system so you don't have to deal with me anymore?"

Chris narrowed his eyes. "How much is that gonna cost me?"

$50 and your self respect.

So $50.


Guerrero smiled, his eyes never leaving Chris’. "My estimate? 100 bucks and a beer or two."

Chris looked back at Eddie. "A beer or two?" he repeated.

Eddie nodded. "That is, if you can stand being seen at Austin's with a grimy guy like me."

Ayaaaaaa kore wa datto desu ka?!

I'm like 70% sure that means something.


He held a hand out for the car keys. "I'll meet you there in three hours after I'm done with your car."

Chris blinked and, without thinking, gave Eddie his car keys.

Damn. I was hoping that the power steering being ruined was a plot set up to where Chris crashes his car and dies at the end. The author would try to make it as sad and tragic as possible, but naturally, they would fail worse than Chris Benoit's second marriage.

Just fucking devil stomp all over my heart, why don't you?


He wondered why he hadn't given Guerrero's offer any thought as he headed off to Austin's. He finally decided that, for his own safety, he needed to get the power steering fixed, and why not do it now? But even that felt like an afterthought; like he was making excuses for something.

Man I hate this. The entire series of interactions between these two has Eddie being a lackadaiscal mechanic and Benoit getting mad because he experimented with a broom stick in law school. There hasn't been any actual chemistry built up, just Chris constantly flip-flopping about whether he thinks Eddie is rude or nice. That's not relationship building. That's just dull, and if I have to read homosexual non-smut, I should at least be entertained by good writing, right? That's not so much to ask from supposed “writers.”

Chris shrugged off the feeling as he walked past Austin's big orange sign. He supposed, with Guerrero's track record, that he could trust him to be done soon and then he wouldn't have to worry about coming back anymore. The thought almost made him stop walking. He hated to say it, but the messy-haired mechanic had really started to grow on him.

When? During all of those times you pouted about Eddie being slightly more frivilous in his demeanor than you would have liked? Just two pages ago you accused him of trying to overcharge you.

He had spent the whole day on Friday thinking about going to get the power steering fluid, like it was the most important thing on his plate at the moment. He'd tried to tell himself that it wasn't that important, that he should focus on his work, but the thought kept popping up in the back of his mind like a target from one of those shoot-'em-up carnival games. And here he was on Saturday, sitting at a table at Austin’s bar, sipping a bear, while Eddie replaced his whole power steering system. What was so special about this place that he wanted to keep coming back? He thought about it as he ordered a Hamburger, with fries this time.

The waitress's surprises were getting more and more cruel as time went on. Chris knew he needed to break the cycle.

He looked around the bar. This was the first time he'd been there in jeans and a t-shirt, and it felt great. He didn't feel like he had to pose a certain way to get people to like him. He wasn't "the laywer's son" or "the rich kid" here; nobody cared what he was or did. For the first time in a long time, he felt…normal.

After a while, Austin walked up and gave him a little punch on the arm.

Chris fell to the ground in pain and threatened to sue Austin, ending his streak of normalcy.

"Benny, you're really gettin' to be a regular around here. What happened to your fancy clothes?"

Chris smiled. Maybe it was ok that they all called him "Benny".

Doesn't quit ring as well as “Norm,” but why not.

"It's Saturday. I'm off work."

Austin nodded. "Ah, I see. So that monkey suit is your uniform."

No, those are his casual clothes, Steve.

Chris nodded back and took another sip of his bear.

"Where do you work, anyway? At a bank, or something?"

Chris shook his head and frowned. "Benoit Law Firm."

”You may know us from our Yellowpages ad. We're listed right above Big Boss Man's Big Dick Bail Bonding.”

Austin chuckled. "Ohh, so that's why Guerrero calls you Benny."

Chris nodded and frowned some more.

Austin patted Chris on the arm. "Hey, don't worry about it. What you do doesn't define you."

Yes, I realize that being a lawyer isn't quite as prestigious as being a mechanic, or a bartender, but I'm sure you can learn to overcome such adversity, Benoit.

Then, somebody called Austin back behind the bar and he left. Chris smiled. Austin was right…he wasn't defined by the job his parents wanted him to do…not any more than he was defined by the Benoit family image. Maybe his parent's social circle thought it defined him, but…he wanted to figure out his own definition.

”Double murder suicide” seems like an adequate replacement definition.

Chris wasn't even done with his second bear when Eddie walked into the bar. He looked like he'd at least cleaned his face and hands up a bit before walking down there, though there was still a line of black under his fingernails. He spotted Chris and walked over to him, putting his car keys on the table and taking a seat.

Not sitting mind you, but literally taking a seat. Eddie Guerrero's whole gimmick was stealing shit, after all.

"All fixed up. You still have a backlog of problems with that poor tub of yours, though. Your shocks are in bad shape, one of the control arms is starting to rust, and that's not to mention the brakes—"

"You just want me to keep coming back to see you," Chris said, surprised at his sudden lack of inhibition.

Alcohol tends to loosen any good judgement you may have. Not that you'd have much to be drinking bears as often as you have.

Eddie smiled. "Or maybe your car wants you to keep coming back to see me,papi."

Chris smiled and stared into his bear, just so that he'd have something to look at other than Eddie's face.

Soon, the pretty waitress lady came over and asked Eddie what she could get for him.

"A few hours might be nice, but I'll settle for a hamburger with fries and an IPA, mamsita."

Hipster Mechanic Eddie Guerrero is my favorite addition to the Bastardized WWE Action Figure series.

Also it's spelled “mamacita,” you fucking scrub.


She smiled, shook her head at him, and hit him on the head with her book. "Oh Eddie, you watch your mouth! I'll be right back, ok?"

He smiled at her and watched her walk away. Chris raised a brow and took another sip of his bear. This mechanic really was rude...

But is he a rude enough dude to save the president?

"I've known her for years," Eddie said, shaking his head, as if he'd heard Chris mentally calling him rude. "It's just a joke anymore. I know she isn’t interested."

Chris nodded, one eyebrow still raised. "You seem to really like to joke with people."

It's called “being friendly.” It's an integral part of customer service.

Eddie smirked. "You don't seem to like jokes at all, ese."

Chris frowned at him. "Not really, especially not when a mad scientist makes dry ones at my expense."

”I'm gonna need you to take your opinions, and shove them wayyy up into your butthole, Benoit.”

Guerrero laughed. "Better that than wet ones." He ate a couple of peanuts from the bowl on the table. "Ok, Benny. I'll lay off the jokes about you, then…" He paused. Except for when they're really funny."

Not good enough. No jokes ever. No fun allowed.

Chris gave him a look. Eddie just smiled at him and ate another couple of peanuts.

"You're just too easy to get to, papi. You gotta lighten up a bit."

Chris frowned again. He supposed Guerrero was right…but he didn't have to like it.

That's part of the problem, d-bag.

Guerrero wasn't as talkative after he got his hamburger. In fact, he ate it in what Chris would consider record time. He was already polishing off his fries before he spoke again.

Avid fry enthusiast that he was, Eddie found a rare two spud mulligan in this batch and needed it to be spotless before adding it to his collection.

"Tell me something," he said, licking ketchup off his finger. "Where'd you find that piece of junk, anyway?"

He was looking for food in a garbage bin, and it was just sitting there next to a soiled copy of every anime ever.

Chris gave him a look, but he answered anyway. "I found her at a used car lot, if you must know."

Eddie snorted. "Don't tell me: it was love at first sight."

"Hey, I do love that car, alright? And I don't appreciate you calling her 'tub' and 'junk' all the time!"

If you love your car so much, why don't you marry it?

Seriously, that's probably legal in Canada.


Eddie put up his hands. "Right, right, perdoname." He ate a couple more fries. "What I guess I'm really wondering is, why that particular car? Out of all the ones you could've picked, why that one?"

He wanted one that looked as shitty as he always felt. Simple enough.

Chris put down his glass of water, a hundred explanations running through his head. "She just happened to be the second cheapest. And I like the way she handles. And...I bought her with my own money, not my parents'."

Guerrero looked at him expectantly as if he knew there was more.

"And...well, to be perfectly honest...she was the only one in that lot that I knew my father would absolutely hate."

Eddie nodded; slowly, like a wise man who had it all figured out.

Now hopefully he very slowly but firmly backs away. Like a wise man, he knows that daddy issues are the last thing you want in a prospective partner.

"If you don't like your old man that much, why are you working for him?" Eddie asked, suddenly as serious as if he had Chris on the witness stand. Chris opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, and then realized he didn't really know.

"I...guess...I guess it was always...expected of me, so—"

"Do you like being a lawyer like your old man?" Eddie interrupted.

Chris opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

Damn, I hate when he does that.

"Well...no, but—"

Eddie shook his head. "Then what are you wasting your time for?"

Money. Like, you know, everyone.

Chris shook his head. Why didn't this crazy guy understand? "Because I have to—I-I don't have a choice—"

Eddie put a hand on Chris’ shoulder. "You always have a choice. You know what my father wanted me to be? A doctor.

”And I fucking showed him, didn't I?”

I get squeamish at the mention of blood, and he wanted me to operate on people with little knives, a needle and thread. I told him to stuff it, and I left."

Chris looked at Guerrero with wide eyes. "What? You just...left? You just...got up and walked away from your family?"

Eddie nodded.

”I never looked back to Tiajuana either, por favor.”

Chris shook his head. He couldn't imagine doing that...except...he wanted to. He wanted to walk into that law firm and put in his two weeks notice, if for nothing else, just to see the look on his father's face when he walked out those pristine, engraved glass double-doors.

I'd enjoy seeing Benoit be homeless too. At least then he'd probably only kill another homeless person.

"What do you want to be? If you could do anything, right this second, what would you want to do?" Eddie asked.

Chris blinked. This was overwhelming. He hadn't given this any thought at all.

"We—I...I don't know."

Guerrero cocked his head. "Oh, come on, Benny, think back...to when you were a little kid watching TV; riding your bike outside. Playing tag and what not. What did you want to be? Even if you always kept it a secret?"

He always wanted to be a firetruck, but his grades weren't high enough.

Chris closed his eyes and thought. He thought about it as hard as he could, and suddenly, he was 12 again, playing with his best friend's pop gun on the green front lawns of their estate. He smiled.

"I...wanted to be a cop," he said softly.

So he could kill people, but legally?

Eddie smiled. "There, you see? Ahora, why can't you quit your job at that sleazy law firm and march yourself up to the police academy and drop in an application, huh?"

Shit, with a law degree you'd probably be shoved right up the food chain. That's the best idea I've heard in the past...30 something pages.

Chris blinked. He stared off into space. Oh, how he wanted to do that. But he knew it wouldn't fly. He shook his head.

"I couldn't...I couldn't do that, I...it would break mother's heart...and dad put so much work into getting me where I am today..."

i.e., being a miserable asshole with a piece of shit car.

Eddie took his hand off Chris’ shoulder and sighed, putting a napkin over his empty plate.

"Sounds like excuses to me, papi."

Chris glared at Guerrero and opened his mouth to say something, but Guerrero said something first.

He explained in great detail his idea for a pilot for ABC. He called it, “Two Goys, a Jew and a Pizza Oven.”

"Why don't we go back to the shop and talk payment, huh?"

Chris nodded, now feeling angry and unsure of himself. He hated the mechanic for shaking him up like he did! He didn't know what life was like as a Benoit! Much less about being the only son in a long line of Benoits!

The last son, as it turned out.

A guy had a responsibility to his family! It wasn't just a matter of what was good for him! Every decision he made affected his family.

I'm guessing the whole “wanting to do a dude” part also wouldn't fly very well? Who knows. Maybe Benoit Sr.'s cool about gays and that also pisses off Chris.

He silently cursed at the mechanic as he followed him back to the shop. Good thing he'd never have to come back after today.


Chapter 3: Set Me Free


Breakfast with his parents was never one of Benoit’s favorite things to do, but it was a long-standing Saturday tradition that couldn't be avoided unless somebody was practically dying. At least the food was good; he'd never had anything against his parent's cooks. They always made good, creamy oatmeal and nice, crispy bacon.

Five star meal you've got going there. Hopefully you're at least getting some good, quality bear bacon.

Chris was halfway done with his oatmeal when he heard his father clear his throat; the way he always did before he was about to ask a question. His father dabbed his mouth with a cloth napkin before setting it back into his lap.

"You've been spending much too much money on that horrible car of yours, Christopher. Why?"

By my math, he hasn't even spent $500 on it yet. For a good mechanic, and that piece of shit car, it's really not that bad.

Chris sighed. He hated it when his father just went rummaging around in his personal finances without so much as a warning or a 'please'.

Are you leaving grease-stained receipts around or something?

"Dad, I'm slowly getting her fixed, ok? There's just one more problem I need to get taken care of and then she's—"

"Benny, why haven't you liked any of the cars we've offered you?" His mother interrupted, looking honestly perplexed as to why he didn't take a shine to any of the little sports cars they'd tried to buy for him two weeks prior.

I'd hate to have supportive parents like that. God being a Benoit is so hard.

"Because, mother, I like this one. I bought her with my own money. I earned her, and that means a lot to me," Chris said, setting down his spoon.

"Christopher, that car you drive is just atrocious. Why don't you at least get it painted a decent color?"

Chris shook his head. "I don't want to argue with you about this, dad. I'm 25 years old. I can make my own decisions now."

You're 25, working at a high-end law firm, and still living with your parents. I don't think your decisions up to now have been all that great, Chris.

"Christopher, you may be an adult, but you work for our firm, and we have a certain image we like to uphold. We serve a lot of high-end clients, and when that…car of yours is in the parking lot…"

Why, it makes you look like a normal law firm! The shame!

Chris found himself trying to drown out what his father had to say by thinking of something else—anything else—and that something else just happened to be his mechanic's brown eyes.

Odd. Whenever I want to not think of my dad, my last recourse is other men.

Those looks he thought Guerrero was giving him…were they in his imagination, or was Eddie really giving him looks? Looks that made him nervous and gave him butterflies. Was he doing that on purpose? Could he tell that he was making Chris nervous? He suddenly couldn't wait to go back.

"Christopher? Christopher, are you listening to me?"

Chris shook his head. "I'm sorry, dad, I just…can't think about this right now."

”I'm too busy thinking about fucking my mechanic.”

He grabbed his keys and walked out to his car, reveling in the sound of the horn when he opened the door. He got in and headed towards Eddie's shop.

Would you like to go out to dinner with me?

...Well, this is unexpected. I'm sorry Fanfic. I'm afraid I'm just not that interested in you. And besides, there's someone else. Someone much cooler. It's called, “Anything But Fanfiction.” I hope we can remain friends, though.

Oh wait. No I don't.


"So formal. Are you also going to bring me a corsage? My favorite color is red. That should help you pick out the ribbon."

Oh Eddie. I wish everyone in this fic were dead but you. Now I'm sad that you're actually dead.

Benoit's face tightened and his blue eyes quickly went from soft to snapping with anger. "Forget I asked."

Haha, you look foolish for making this excusion then.

He started to turn around but Eddie grabbed his arm before he could leave. Chris had a temper. He shouldn't be surprised. He remembered how Chris had snapped at him when they first metkilled his wife and ten year old son. He liked that. It would take more than a pretty face and a tight body to hold his attention for more than one night. "Don't go.Estaba jodiendo contigo" Chris relaxed so Eddie let him go. "Yes, I'll go to dinner with you." Chris smiled and Eddie brushed a thumb over his lips. Chris shivered.

A small smile touched the corners of Eddie's mouth and his eyes sparkled with amusement. Chris felt like Eddie was laughing at a secret joke. But he didn't get the joke and he sort of felt like he needed to explain himself.

I'm glad this dull ass story is ending with a sudden and high school-esque confession.

He licked his lips. Suddenly Eddie's hand slid into his hair gripping it tight. Chris froze. He watched as Eddie's tongue darted out and ran over his bottom lip. His skin prickled with anticipation. Was he about to be kissed?

NO! ANYTHING BUT THAT!

He licked his lips again more out of nervousness. Eddie's eyes tracked the movement before he looked directly at him. Chris was taken aback by the intensity he saw in his brown eyes. They were bright with heat and sharp with hunger. He'd never had anyone look at him like that before. His heart pounded with an exhilarating mix of fear and desire. Maybe he was right. Maybe he just felt uncomfortable.

I for one, feel very uncomfortable.

Eddie could feel his blood racing under his skin, thick and hot as it shot straight to his cock. He wanted to kiss Chris, pull the pretty boy onto the ground so that he could be fucked by the blond right there on the garage floor. His fingers clenched on the strands of hair in his fist as he seriously considered doing exactly that.

...Well then. This has become unexpectedly violent and dark.

But although there was definitely desire in the wide eyes that stared back at him, there was also hesitation. Chris wasn't ready for the furious passion he would unleash on him.

Furious passion, by the way, is not an acceptable defense in a court of law.

Normally with his partners he didn't give a fuck if they were nervous. He just did whatever was necessary until he got them to give him what he wanted.

Jesus fucking Christ, author. How did you take Eddie Guerrero from being the only likeable character in this fic to being a potential rapist that quickly?

But for whatever reason with Chris, he was willing to take his time and put him at ease. Closing his eyes to the sight of those pouty lips, he ruthlessly pushed back his desire. Eddie untangled his fingers from Chris’ hair and opening his eyes he took a step away from temptation.

Take a fucking lap around the block away from temptation, please.

"Friday at 8:00." Chris nodded. "Alright, I'll see you then." He took another step back, watching as Chris got into his car. He waved in response to the hand Chris raised in goodbye. After he was gone Eddie reassured himself he'd done the right thing. Good things came to those who waited, right?

I feel confident that Eddie did the right thing in not raping Chris Benoit. Of that I am certain, yes, fic.

The End.





Yeah. So that ending, huh? Thought this was going to be a bit lighter, just some bland homo fluff. Guess anything with Benoit's stench on it has to turn super dark at some point.

I don't understand the point of AU fanfiction. Why not just write an original story? You could've gotten rid of the subtle wrestling references, changed the names and it would have been a passable writing exercise. Instead, it's Chris Benoit and Eddie Guerrero way out of character and gay. I mean, why do that to them? By which I mean, why do that to Eddie? I don't give a shit about Chris, but I like Eddie. Just write this same story about two guys named Tom and Dick. It's still boring, repetitive shite, but at least it's not creepy shite.

And yeah, the idea's still creepy to me. The author (and several others) saw these guys wrestling on TV and drew a few very broad characteristics to turn into gay stereotypes. And the worst part is, the story I culled for this was written in 2015. I could understand something pre-2007, before Benoit went postal, but after the fact it's doubly creepy. You're brushing aside a heinous crime to make some fluffly homo shit. Say nothing of the quality of writing, because, well, I'd be repeating myself. Anyway, I think I'm going to need to avoid wrestling and murder for a while after this.

Oh fuck, Wrestlemania's this weekend. So much for that...

Until next time!


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Lo-Fi Version Time is now: 25th March 2017 - 05:28 PM