He's done it!!!

"I DID IT!" Steve roared.

Warfare has gone off air but the celebrations continue. Davids climbs up to his feet and leans against the top rope. The Championship tight in his grasp he looks out at the crowd who are cheering for some absurd reason. This was the moment he had always been waiting for.

He tasted every last moment of it, because it would not last forever.

No one expected it.

Steve always thought that the fans despised him. They were fickle though. Ricky grabbed Steve's wrist and lifted it into the air, forcing the fans to roar once again.

"Well done," he mimed. The noise was too loud for me to fully understand what he had said.

'Hello Zepp - Charlie Clouser' begins to bellow out of the booming speakers once again as Steve begins to make his exit from the ring with Ricky in toe. The competitors from the main event have already left the arena, well at least it seemed that way.

They walk through the curtain to the backstage where some members of the staff begun to applaud Steve. He could not believe it.

Through the crowd a petite girl skipped, clapping her hands as she did so.

"Steve! Steve! Steve! Well done! Well done! Well done!" The woman shouted, excitably.

"Uh.. Thanks? I guess... And you are?" Steve pondered, offering his hand.

"Iris Oppenheimer, pleased to meet you!" Steve had never seen anyone so happy to see him.

"Pleasure?" He wasn't that familiar with how to be polite. They shook hands though, Ricky looked on laughing.

"Looks like you've got a groupie," Ricky joked.

"Fuck off!" Steve responded defensively, lacking any wit.

"Groupie? No, no no no! Well," the girl sighed, and for the briefest moment her eyes shone before she shook her head and brushed some hair out of her face in an exaggerated motion. Almost as if she had something else she was trying to wipe something else out of her head. "No. Sooo-ho-ooo, I take it you don't know me, is that right to assume?"

Steve shook his head, but it was Ricky who actually opened his mouth to say something. "Well sweetheart, if you have to ask, it's far to guess that neither of us have any idea who you are."

"Oh, well." She shifted anxiously on her feet and fiddled with her hands. "Well, we had a discussion a couple weeks ago, pertaining to the Christmas-themed Shove-It. Remember? We're supposed to be tag team partners? I just wanted to congratulate you on your win, I don't think anyone expected that to happen. Not saying no one thinks you couldn't beat Theo Pryce just the circumstances leading up to it were so, surprising. If you don't mind me saying, that is."

"Ah, yes. Now I remember."

"Wait, let me get this straight." Ricky clamped his hand down on Steve's shoulder. "You willingly chose to tag with this wingbat? For what reason?"

"Ricky, if you would. Shut your fucking cunt mouth and don't even think of questioning my decisions again," Steve snarled. Not even the elation of winning the Universal Title could keep him too good a mood for too long. Iris recoiled, stumbling backwards on unsteady feet. She caught herself before tumbling to the ground, barely, and shot an uneasy smile at the pair.

"Y'know, all the arguing isn't very healthy."

“You are joking,” Ricky said, straightening his tie with a grin on his face.

“Do you see anyone laughing Ricky? Do you see her looking for someone to laugh? Does it seem like a joke? Please, for the love of God, allow us to get through this conversation before I punch someone…” Ricky shrugged his shoulders and took a step back. Steve raised his eyebrows uncomfortably.

“Yes, anyway. I just thought I had better let you know something…” Iris clenched her teeth and pushed her hands forward. She tilted forwards and backwards on her tip toes. Steve instantly knew Iris didn’t want to say what she was about to say… “Well, that tag team match we are in. We sort of have to wear over-sized Santa suits,” she glanced at the table behind her where two santa hats were.

Ricky burst into tears with laughter. He fell to the ground and begun to roll around. Steve tried not to get angry. He took a deep breath and glanced at his shoulder, where his championship was placed, and it calmed him down immediately.

“Fine,” Steve sighed.

“There is some good news… We get to wrap them up some presents…” She smiled, a cute but anxious smile.

Ricky laughed even more uncontrollably. Just as he was climbing to his knees he fell back to the ground.

“Oh my god, please stop or you’re going to kill me,” he cried, “Steve, you… presents… Santa suit… best Christmas ever.”

Steve sighed.

“The presents are weapons for their match though! Isn't that fun!?” She grinned.

Ricky stopped laughing immediately, “oh,” he said climbing back to his feet.

“Yeah, not so funny now aye Rick? That sounds much more interesting to me. The thing is, I don’t much care for Vinnie Lane, and I really really really hate Frodo Smackins. What weapon will hurt them the most?”

“Wow! That’s really mean. Are you always this sadistic?” Iris asked, her closed smile lit up the room but there was a tone of concern in her voice.

“If I wasn’t mean, I certainly wouldn’t be champion,” he said smugly, “anyway, I suppose we better go find them some gifts… Whilst you’re at it, why don’t you try and explain how you’re so nice all of the time?” He asked, a half smile coming through his usually flat face.

“And perhaps you can explain how you’re so uhm… well how do I put it? Assertive?”

“Uh… of course,” Steve was a bit puzzled, but he and Ricky strolled towards the locker room, Iris scurried behind grabbing the santa hats in the process.

On entry to the empty locker room, Ricky thought it would be hilarious to put on the oversized santa hat and dance around.

Iris grabbed wrapping paper, scissors and sellotape from her locker. Steve looked slightly confused as she begun to wrap a fruitcake. Yes, a fruitcake.

Iris looked up at him with a toothy grin, “why are you looking at me like that?” She asked.

“It’s just uh… Well… I have never given anyone a Christmas present before,” Steve said, Iris looked stunned.

“Wh...What? Why?” She stuttered.

“I don’t really know,” Steve lied.

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Ricky cackled, ”you haven’t given anyone a Christmas present before because you’re a selfish cunt,” he had a point.

“Hilarious Ricky. Keep making jokes but we all know the best joke here is your wrestling career,” Steve laughed.

“Burn!” Ricky shouted before finally shutting up.

Steve pulled out a two by four wrapped in barbed wire from his locker and lay it on the floor, next to where Iris was wrapping her present. She bit her lips and split her attention between the wrapping process and her partner.

"Wrapping that might be a little hard without a box."

She finished wrapping up the fruitcake and slid it up against one of the lockers.

"If you don't mind me asking, why a fruitcake?" Steve asked, trying to suppress a chuckle.

"Festivity. Though, there's a bit of a surprise inside of it." She leaned in close and whispered into Steve's ear, "Razorblades. Three of them."

"Can't say I was expecting that."

"Now that's a phrase I'm familiar with."

She looked around the room for a box, but alas came up empty handed. Closing her eyes for a brief moment to think more clearly, she fell back against a wall. When her eyes finally reopened, she pointed over at Ricky, who had been seated, watching the entire scene unfold with a shit eating grin on his face. "Could you be a dear and find a box to put Steve's 'present' in?" she asked with the most sickeningly sweet voice she could muster.

"I could, but what makes you think I will?"

Steve cleared with throat with authority. "Ricky," he growled.

"Fine. Jesus Steve, no need to menstruate all over the floor. It's probably just been cleaned." And with that, Ricky left the room on a new quest to find a box. Steve pushed himself up off the ground and dusted himself off, cracking his neck. Iris swayed forward and backwards, hands behind her back and pressed against the wall.

"So, about being nice?"

"Well, being nice is easy!" Iris beamed, unsure of whether she was trying to reassure her student or herself. "I mean, you just have to think 'what makes me feel good?' and do that unto others."

Steve glared. "Somehow, I don't think the things that make me feel good make others feel good."

"Oh, give yourself more credit!" She pushed away from the wall and walked closer to Steve. "You think you're so isolated but I bet you're more like everyone else than you think."

To accentuate the point, she tapped one finger against his nose. His demeanor didn't change a bit.

"Alright, what's the thing that makes you feel better than anything else in the world?"

"Hurting others."

"Okay then, maybe I was a little wrong. No matter then! You know how to compliment, right? Oh, look at me talking to you like a pre-schooler, or course you do. Honestly, the more I think about it, the harder it'll be for you to learn niceties. Not that that's a slight against you, but if hurting people makes you feel good, then I'm going to go out on a limb and say the entire concept of being nice is kind of foreign, right? Yeah. So, and I'm going to hate myself for suggesting this, but I might have to teach you how to come off as nice rather than be nice. It's something I hate, but hopefully by practicing faking it, you'll end up making it, so to speak. So, compliments."

"You want me to compliment you?"

"If you want. Really, it can be anything. The wall, me, the lockers, the XWF fans, whatever."

Steve took a step back and stood straight. Feet shoulder with apart. Shoulders down and back. Chest out. Head up. A smile slowly slithered across his face, which felt wrong to him. He cleared his throat and said, projecting as loud as possible and without any change to his voice: "I'd like to thank all the beautiful XWF fans for their support!"

Iris jumped back into the wall, smacking the back of it against the plaster. She shook her head and stepped forward once more, one hand raised slightly with her index finger pointed straight up.

"Good, but it feels like a performance. You don't need to project so much. And you don't need to have correct posture for it either." She grabbed one of his hands and used it to pull herself closer to him. "The closer you are, the quieter you have to speak so if you're just repeating the same thing to a group of people, they're less likely to hear."

She looked up and caught his eyes. "Eye contact is vital. Now, Steve, you're a huge inspiration to me."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"Was that serious or just an example?"

"Which one do you think?" She giggled and pushed herself away from him.

"I don't know. Hence why I'm asking."

"Don't you see? If you say it well enough, and the person doesn't have cause to believe you're lying, it's impossible to tell whether or not someone means it. And who knows? Maybe by the time you get really good at it, you'll start to mean it. Now, I think it's your turn to teach me something, champ."