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I noticed that she had the tiniest bit of a shiner under her eye, like she had caught a stiff shot. When I worked with her I knew there would be some live rounds thrown and I had no problem with that. Neither did she; it was the way she liked to work.

I could tell I had interrupted something, so I thanked her again and left the office. I could feel two pairs of eyes boring a hole in my back as I did.

I wasn’t going to let her blasé attitude spoil the fact that my childhood dream had come true. I was on a high and felt like I was the king of the world. I wanted that feeling to last forever, and it did—for the next twenty-four hours or so.

Then the house of Jericho cards came crashing down.

CHAPTER 5

Green as Grass

The next day we were doing Raw in Tampa. I brought my girlfriend Jessica with me backstage for the first time and we were both a little nervous.

Even though the WWE was one of the biggest sports companies in the world, we didn’t have a trainer or a team doctor. What we did have was a strange New Age shiatsu chiropractor named François. He was French with a long ponytail, and he was famous for being the guy who tended to Mick Foley (who incidentally has never bested me in a match) during the infamous Hell in a Cell against The Undertaker. François was convinced that he could heal any ailment with his magical powers.

“Okay, your ankle is hurting, but it has feelings and it’s insulted right now. Apologize to it and your ankle will forgive you.” Ummm, okay.

A few weeks earlier, Jessica had been hit by a car while she was out for a run and her back had been bothering her ever since. When François heard this, he insisted he could make her feel better and had her lie down on his table. Somehow she ended up getting a stinger that temporarily paralyzed her. It was terrifying because she could hardly move her legs, and all I could think of was my mom, who had become a quadriplegic nine years earlier. I was consoling her when I got a message that Vince needed to see me. Like one of Pavlov’s dogs, I instantly snapped to attention.

I asked Jess if she would be okay with me leaving for a few minutes, and even though she was trying to be strong I could see the fear in her eyes, and I felt the same way.

I told her I’d be right back and rushed over to Vince’s office. I wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to talk to me about, but I was pretty certain he was going to congratulate me for stealing the show with Chyna the night before. The more I thought about the match, the more I liked it, and I was excited to hear his feedback. Was I finally going to get some prizzops from my bizzoss?

I knocked on his door and walked in to find him talking to HHH. They gave me a strange look (similar to the one HHH and Chyna had given me the day before) and Vince asked me to come back in a few minutes. I checked on Jess, who thankfully had gotten her feeling back, and after a couple of minutes I went back to his office. This time HHH was gone and Vince was with Jim Ross, the head of talent relations, and Jack Lanza. He told me to shut the door and take a seat, and surprisingly, he didn’t look happy. As a matter of fact, he looked downright pissed.

My expectations of praise were quickly shot down by feelings of dread—this wasn’t gonna be good.

Vince looked me in the eye and said, “What is your problem?”

“Pardon me?”

“ What the fuck is your problem ?”

Uh-oh. My normally calm and collected boss was now swearing at me.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“What did you do to Chyna yesterday, huh? You gave her a black eye. You were stiffing the shit out of her. How could you do that?”

Caught off guard, I tried to defend myself. “It wasn’t intentional, Vince. It’s just part of the job sometimes. You know that.”

Vince’s eyes bugged out and the veins in his neck pulsated as he said in a gravelly voice, “How could you do that, man? She’s a woman !!”

I didn’t think it was prudent at that juncture to remind him that he was the one who had told me to work strong and not to take it easy with her. Not that I had a chance