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Amy leaves the locker room having spent the last hour in her gear being chewed out by a precession of management and human resources, it was nice to shower and finally change into some fresh clothes. She'd agreed to pay a fine, make a phoney apology to the crooked referee and appear a a local school to do some blah blah blah autography thing. She'd likely no-show the last part, once you reach a certain status management don't even bother to check that you turned up to these PR things unless a celebrity or a politician is involved. The arena is unusually quiet considering a show had just concluded, she's heard the sound of an explosion earlier but had assumed the pyro guys had just put a little too much "oomph" into their usual tests.
She leaves the arena and out to the car park where she sees her van utterly destroyed and surrounded by police tape. An obese Spaghettitown police officer leans against a wall paying no attention to the fans and bystanders taking pictures and videos with their phones.
>"What the FUCK happened?!"
The officer jumps as if startled awake and lazily shoos the people away. He dabs his sweaty brown with a handkerchief then turns to Amy and folds his arms.
>"This your vehicle, ma'am?"
>"It WAS my vehicle. Mind telling me why's it's CRUSHED?"
>"Some crazy bitch tried to off herself by jumping outta the window. Wrestler chick, allegedly."
Amy's blood ran cold. "Wrestler chick"? "Off herself"? She immediately recalls her conversation with Cassie Kade and begins to tremble as she pulls her phone from her pocket and switches it on. She drops to her knees as an avalanche of text messages, voicemails and Tweetstagram DM's from Jennifer fill the screen. She cursed Skelly and that bastard referee for taking her attention away from Nikki. If only she'd been there, maybe she could've done something or said something. Utterly consumed by rage Amy wrestles the mangled side door of the van open and grabs a few important items. And a baseball bat.
