Hit Him Up

Distribution: Flights.
Notes: I love Blu Cantrell…

Home sweet home… after a long and boring business trip, coming home is just too sweet, you know? And seeing my baby’s car in the driveway just makes coming home to him sweeter. He usually stays in to work when I’m away but finding him at home is just nice. I leave my bags in the car and run to the house. Everything’s lit up but I can’t see him. Well, not yet anyhow. I pad down to the bedroom since I know how he loves to nap after a hard day at work. I slide off my heels and open the door to the bedroom.
I wish the sight on the bed with his lover would surprise me or disappoint me at the very least but not even… Maybe I don’t really love him… he is, was, nice to have around and very convenient. And he is, was, committed to me damn it and me to him and it’s totally wrong of him to cheat. I’d thought about cheating too but I’d never acted on it. Because I am, damn it, that should be was, committed to him and our relationship. He evidently isn’t.
Now if I were an overly emotional person, I would walk in and make an awful scene. But being an efficiency specialist and logical on top of it, I refuse to give in to useless emotions when I have a revenge to plan.

“Are the emails sent out?” I ask my best friend as I set my laptop computer on her kitchen table as we plan the cheating revenge that will end all cheating revenges.
“Oh yeah. We’ll be sending exclusive Matt Hardy memorabilia to his fans as soon as he leaves tomorrow morning.”
“Good stuff. And the Master Card expenses?”
“Matt’s pretty much buying out WWF Shopzone. Steve Austin’s going to get a good hundred Kurt Angle tee-shirts and Booker T is really going to find out what the Rock is cooking. Not to mention how Stacey Kiebler and Torrie Wilson are both getting bra and panties set from Lita and Trish respectively.”
“Good stuff. Is your brother on the Jell-O plan?”
“Yep. By midmorning tomorrow, Matt’s precious in ground pool will be filled with yellow Jell-O. Banana and lemon mix.”
I smile, I can’t help it. Matthew Moore Hardy loves lemon Jell-O and hates banana.
“Your brother’s friends will be dropping by to get themselves new clothes?”
“Yep, as soon as you make the call.”
“Good. And while they shop at CHEZ MATT, we’ll be shopping at Neimans.”

The team of personal shoppers assigned to me and my four best friends at Neimans are grinning like idiots, as well they should. Hell, we just blew an even 25,000$ on a revenge shopping spree which didn’t even include jewelry. That we got at Tiffany for a whopping 10,000$. By the time I get home, I’m totally ready to face him in my new Betsey Johnson outfit and with my present for his little hooch…
“Baby, I’m home,” he shouts.
“I’m in the living room,” I tell him, mentally preparing myself for the confrontation at hand.
“Babe? Where the fuck is all my stuff?”
“Hi honey,” I said pecking his cheating mouth, “how was the signing? Did Jeff drop you off?”
“Who gives a rat’s ass about who dropped me off?” Matt shouts, his face going red with anger, “where the fuck is all of my fucking stuff?”
“Oh… I sold everything.”
“You sold my stuff? How dare you?”
“How dare I? How dare I? You fucked your bitch on my bed, in my house! That’s how I dared!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“My plane got in last night.”
You know, guilt is more than a feeling… it’s a picture… and it’s never been portrayed better than on Matt’s face right then and there. The anger in his eyes dims and he goes from a raging maniac to a sniveling idiot…
“Baby…”
“Yes?”
“Last night was a mistake… I’ve never done anything like that before and…”
Liar… before I’d left, I’d heard his fuck friend say I was constantly improving his boudoir skills.
“Hush up,” I tell Matt, pressing my finger against his lips, “if I were you, I’d shut up and get out. The new owners are moving in tomorrow morning.”
“You sold everything? Even the house? You left me with nothing?”
“Well, not really. I left your little hooch a present.”
Matt checks out the box at my feet and I almost want to smile when he recognizes the familiar characters from Marvel’s X-Men.
“Thought your boyfriend could use some exposure to other… superheroes.”
That being said, I walk away, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. I’m almost out the door when I hear his cell phone ring. I pause and wait for him to pick up. The voice on the other end comes in loud and clear.
“You think you’re funny? Did you think that was funny? Do you know who I am Matt Hardy? I’m Stone Cold Steve Austin and I don’t need this crap!”
“Steve? What’s wrong?”
“You send me Kurt Angle tee-shirts with a note saying that he’s a real American, a real hero? You think that’s funny, you think you’re a comedian?”
I leave Matt to endure Steve’s diatribe as I walk to the car. God how I’m going to enjoy watching him get pounded come Monday Night RAW.

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