Ken paced furiously in his living room. He STILL couldn’t believe that he was forced…that’s right, FORCED, to give up his Money in the Bank Title Shot to that no talent, worthless, little fucking QUEER, Adam Copeland. Of course, Ken didn’t think that there was anything WRONG with being gay…it was merely a title he reserved JUST for Adam.

“I’m gonna get that little fucker”, Ken growled, still pacing, rubbing at his once injured elbow. It was healed, thankfully, but the problem was that he’d been drafted to Raw.

He rejected plan after plan out of his mind, each one more ridiculous than the last. He wanted this payback to have a LASTING effect. Something wicked. Something humiliatingly horrible. Something that would last in the annals of the WWE Archives for decades to come.

The television was on, and it showed a clip of Vince. It was during the previous WrestleMania.

As he watched the clip, a slow, sick smirk grew on his face.

“Vince…you are a GENIUS”, he breathed at the television.

With a joyful shout, he pounced on his phone, and dialed.

“What?” a voice grunted into the phone three rings later.

“Mark…It’s Ken”, Ken said.

“Whaddaya want, Kid? Me and my wife are kinda in the middle of somethin’…” Mark growled, sounding very perturbed.

Ken heard a female giggle in the background.

“Hi, Ken!!” he heard Sara yell amusedly from the background.

“Tell her I said ‘hi’”, Ken said. “Listen, I want you to do me a favor…”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Adam sat in the locker room, with the World Title in his hands. He was admiring his reflection in it, fiddling with his hair.

“How do I look?” he asked to the other occupant, making him roll his eyes.

“Like ye always do. Like shit”, Finlay grunted.

Adam scowled. “Think whatever you want”, he said haughtily. “Your opinion is meaningless. Only the opinion of the World Champion matters.”

“Hmph. Ye won’t be so High and Mighty once the Undertaker comes back, that’s for certain”, Finlay said, his Irish accent prominent in his speech.

At the mention of The Undertaker, a flicker of fear was in Adam’s eyes before it was quickly masked. “THAT old goat?” he sneered. “He can’t even find his own ass with both hands half the time.”

He hardly noticed Finlay’s face stretch into an amused smirk, and fold his arms.

“’Old Goat’, eh?” Finlay asked. “And, seein’ as yer the Champion and all that, would ye have the gumption ta say it to ‘is face?”

Adam nodded. “I’d go right up to him and say ‘Mark, your time has past!! It’s time for you to step aside and let your superiors take over!!’” he said arrogantly. Every muscle in his body froze when he heard a voice behind him.

“Is THAT right…BOY??” the deep, dark voice of Mark Calaway said.

Adam didn’t turn around. All he did was reach behind him, to make sure that he was really there. And, true to his belief, he felt a body standing behind him. His hand felt around, and, satisfied that Mark was indeed standing there, a look of ‘Aww, FUCK’ came over his face. He turned and faced the man in question.

“Uh…h-h-h-hey, Mark!!” Adam said, trying hard to be cheerful, but there was too much fear and nervousness in his voice for him to pull it off.

“If yer finished feelin’ up the ‘Old Goat’”, Mark sneered down at him, making the smaller man gulp, “I gotta talk to ya.” He grabbed Adam by the collar, and dragged him from the locker room.

Both men distinctly heard Finlay’s laughter behind them.

“Uh…Mark…where are we going?” Adam asked nervously.

Mark didn’t say a word. He just kept on going, with Adam following him, until they got to the basement of the arena.

“What the-“ Adam would never finish his question, because he was knocked out from behind. The last vision he saw was Mark grinning evilly at him before his world went black.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A week went by, and Adam STILL didn’t know where he was. He’d been blindfolded, gagged, tied up, and there were earplugs stuck in his ears, so he couldn’t hear anything. All he knew was that he’d been kept somewhere secluded for the past six days, and was now being carried somewhere. By two people. One was carrying his upper body, while someone else was holding his legs. He was carried for about three minutes before he was thrown into a car trunk. Literally THROWN.

‘Fuck…that hurt’, Adam thought, his arm throbbing a bit as it hit the floor of the trunk. He’d been missing for a week. Of course, somebody would be looking for him…right?

‘Right’, a voice said in his head sarcastically. ‘If you were someone else, would YOU go looking for you?’

“I’m screwed”, Adam said to himself.

They drove for about two hours before the car slowed to a stop. He hardly breathed as the occupants of the car got out, and he felt the breeze as the trunk was opened. He felt himself getting hauled up by those two people, and carried again.

He was carried for about ten minutes until he was sat down on something hard. A bench, he realized. He tried to wriggle free, but he only fell on the floor.

It was about two hours later, when he was picked up again, and carried. This time, he was carried for about seven minutes, until he was dumped into a cushy chair. There was a dull roar in his ears from having these things stuck in his ears for so long. Then, all at once, the earplugs were removed.

Then, he realized, that the dull roar wasn’t from having the earplugs in. The dull roar had been a massive crowd.

‘I’m in the middle of the ring!!’ he realized. The blindfold was pulled off, and he blinked at the light that stung his eyes. When his vision finally focused, he gulped at what he saw.

There were two faces staring back at him. One was Mark, who was grinning evilly at him. And the other was none other than Ken Anderson.

His eyes flicked at the both of them, and then at the crowd, which was going absolutely WILD. What was worse…they were on live RAW television.

“Oh look, he’s awake”, Ken said amusedly into a mic.

“Have a good time, there, Sleepin’ Beauty’?” Mark sneered down at him.

“Now, I’d been wracking my brain thinking of a way to get some…payback”, Ken said. “And I was watching some archival footage, and I found JUST the answer. Take a look.”

To Adam’s growing horror, he was watching Vince McMahon. He was getting his head shaved.

“That’s right, Edgey”, Ken said, grinning sadistically.

Adam’s eyes flickered over to Mark, who was holding a shaver in his hand.

“Now, Undertaker, I had originally wanted the honor, but I believe that YOU have precedence”, Ken said, smirking at Mark, whose eyes glinted evilly at the bound man in the chair. He gestured his hand to Adam, who actually had tears in his eyes. “Go ahead and cry, you little bitch. But it won’t do you any good. Undertaker…have at him!!”

Mark descended, and on live television, Adam’s head was shaved bald. But Mark didn’t stop there. He shaved his eyebrows off, too. After everything, he was released, and when he was freed, he sprinted up the ring, covering his bare scalp in mortification.

When he got to the back, he ran as fast as he could out of the arena.

Ken had gotten the right idea in shaving Adam’s head. Because that one Raw segment was the most requested Raw segment in a decade.

How’s THAT for humiliating?