Debra dubiously eyed the board member as she sauntered over to her desk and struck a pose but
suspiciously remained standing.
DEBRA: What can I do for you Pam?
PAM: It’s Ms. Anderson to you. Now, try it again.
DEBRA: Excuse me?
PAM: You can address me as Ms. Anderson only. Now try it again.
DEBRA: Pam, I’ve known you for fifteen years. Hell, once upon a time, I even liked you. But now-
PAM: Now you work for me. And if you want to continue being employed, you will address me as Ms.
Anderson.
Debra’s eyes narrowed into slits as her pulse began to race and she fought every urge she had to leap
over the desk and tear into the pompous blonde. Instead, the Hall of Famer took a deep breath and
spoke.
DEBRA: Alright. We can play your little game Ms. Anderson…….for now.
PAM: That’s better. Now just because you left the wrestling world behind for the (cough, cough) high
brow world of monster trucks doesn’t make you better than anybody. You are still the low class, trailer
park whore you always were.
DEBRA: I guess you should know……Ms. Anderson.
Now it was Pamela’s turn to fume as her face began to turn a shade of red while she clenched and
unclenched her hands.
PAM: Insult me one more time and I will kick your ass all over this office.
DEBRA: (rolling her eyes) Alright Ms. Anderson, what do you want? I have work to do.
PAM: I’m here to let you know that my good friend Trish Stratus and Lisa Marie Varon want two specific
opponents for their tag-team match.
DEBRA: And I want to bitch-slap you right now. I guess nobody is getting what they want tonight.
PAM: Yes, they are. You are going to give them their match and inform their opponents about…….both
of who are here tonight.
DEBRA: I think you are mistaken Ms. Anderson. I run this show. That’s why I took this position. I
wanted to make sure at least one show was run the way it’s supposed to be. Besides, with the crap they
pulled earlier, what makes you think they deserve to wrestle tonight? But just for my morbid curiosity,
who did they want to face?
PAM: They ARE going to face Nora Greenwald and Joanie Laurer. They are ex-co-workers and Trish
has a score to settle with both of them.
DEBRA: Hahahahahahaha. You ARE delusional. I’m not going to-
PAM: You are going to do exactly as I say or you can pack up your stuff and leave. It will be the shortest
gig you’ve ever had. Even shorter than the gig you had in WCW with your ridiculously pumped up fake
tits.
DEBRA: You should talk about anything fake Pam.
PAM: MS. ANDERSON BITCH! I won’t tell you again. Now, tell Nora and Joanie to get ready.
DEBRA: I don’t think so. In fact, I think I am going to call the Chairperson of the Board to ask her why
one of her board members is here trying to tell me what to do.
As Debra reached for the phone, Pamela stepped to the edge of the desk and grabbed Debra by the
wrist.
PAM: This is a career decision you’re making Debra. I can promise you that you’ll never even sniff
another job in this sport. If it’s the last thing I do, I will ruin you.
DEBRA: If you don’t get your hands off me, it will be the last thing you do. I see you don’t want to get
your superiors involved so I know they don’t know anything about this.
PAM: Maybe. Maybe not. But you won’t be around to find out. Let me tell you how this will go. You’ll
call and maybe Zeta-Jones agrees with you and says she will look into this. So you’ll win tonight.
Tomorrow however, I will be at a special emergency board meeting where we’ll go through the motions
and they will reprimand me. But then I will gather all my friends on the board and call in all my favors to
force a vote on whether to keep you on as General Manager. And guess what, you’ll lose. I guarantee
it. So, in the end, you may keep Trish and Lisa Marie off tonight’s show, but they will wind up a part of
this roster and you’ll be on the unemployment line. And the second you are out the door, I will be waiting
with some friends to kick your ass. So, go ahead and pick up the phone. I dare you.
Debra grabbed the phone receiver, lifted it up to her ear and then hesitated for a second. The sudden
idea of being forced from the business that made her rich and famous a second time shot chills down
Debra’s spine and a second later, she replaced the receiver on the cradle and took a deep breath,
resigned to a fate she had no control over.
DEBRA: Fine. You win.
PAM: What was that? I didn’t hear you. Speak up.
DEBRA: (through gritted teeth) I SAID YOU WIN.
PAM: I win what?
DEBRA: You win Ms. Anderson. Your girls can have their match.
PAM: Ahh, you finally know your place.
DEBRA: Don’t push it Pam. I can’t fight you on this, but keep pushing me and you could have an
‘unfortunate accident’. And guess what? You won’t be able to prove it was anything but an accident.
PAM: You wouldn’t dare.
DEBRA: Try me and find out. So, if that’s all, why don’t you go tell your friends, they better get ready
quickly. They’ll be on after the next match.
PAM: Watch your back Madusa. When the time comes, you won’t see me coming.
DEBRA: Then bring your army with you…..you’ll need ‘em.
With that, Pam stormed out of the office. Anger welled up inside Debra as she tried to take a sip from
her bottle of Pellagrino. The blonde reached her boiling point and hurled the glass bottle across the
room where it shattered against the wall. A second later, the phone rang and Debra took a deep breath
before she answered the call.
suspiciously remained standing.
DEBRA: What can I do for you Pam?
PAM: It’s Ms. Anderson to you. Now, try it again.
DEBRA: Excuse me?
PAM: You can address me as Ms. Anderson only. Now try it again.
DEBRA: Pam, I’ve known you for fifteen years. Hell, once upon a time, I even liked you. But now-
PAM: Now you work for me. And if you want to continue being employed, you will address me as Ms.
Anderson.
Debra’s eyes narrowed into slits as her pulse began to race and she fought every urge she had to leap
over the desk and tear into the pompous blonde. Instead, the Hall of Famer took a deep breath and
spoke.
DEBRA: Alright. We can play your little game Ms. Anderson…….for now.
PAM: That’s better. Now just because you left the wrestling world behind for the (cough, cough) high
brow world of monster trucks doesn’t make you better than anybody. You are still the low class, trailer
park whore you always were.
DEBRA: I guess you should know……Ms. Anderson.
Now it was Pamela’s turn to fume as her face began to turn a shade of red while she clenched and
unclenched her hands.
PAM: Insult me one more time and I will kick your ass all over this office.
DEBRA: (rolling her eyes) Alright Ms. Anderson, what do you want? I have work to do.
PAM: I’m here to let you know that my good friend Trish Stratus and Lisa Marie Varon want two specific
opponents for their tag-team match.
DEBRA: And I want to bitch-slap you right now. I guess nobody is getting what they want tonight.
PAM: Yes, they are. You are going to give them their match and inform their opponents about…….both
of who are here tonight.
DEBRA: I think you are mistaken Ms. Anderson. I run this show. That’s why I took this position. I
wanted to make sure at least one show was run the way it’s supposed to be. Besides, with the crap they
pulled earlier, what makes you think they deserve to wrestle tonight? But just for my morbid curiosity,
who did they want to face?
PAM: They ARE going to face Nora Greenwald and Joanie Laurer. They are ex-co-workers and Trish
has a score to settle with both of them.
DEBRA: Hahahahahahaha. You ARE delusional. I’m not going to-
PAM: You are going to do exactly as I say or you can pack up your stuff and leave. It will be the shortest
gig you’ve ever had. Even shorter than the gig you had in WCW with your ridiculously pumped up fake
tits.
DEBRA: You should talk about anything fake Pam.
PAM: MS. ANDERSON BITCH! I won’t tell you again. Now, tell Nora and Joanie to get ready.
DEBRA: I don’t think so. In fact, I think I am going to call the Chairperson of the Board to ask her why
one of her board members is here trying to tell me what to do.
As Debra reached for the phone, Pamela stepped to the edge of the desk and grabbed Debra by the
wrist.
PAM: This is a career decision you’re making Debra. I can promise you that you’ll never even sniff
another job in this sport. If it’s the last thing I do, I will ruin you.
DEBRA: If you don’t get your hands off me, it will be the last thing you do. I see you don’t want to get
your superiors involved so I know they don’t know anything about this.
PAM: Maybe. Maybe not. But you won’t be around to find out. Let me tell you how this will go. You’ll
call and maybe Zeta-Jones agrees with you and says she will look into this. So you’ll win tonight.
Tomorrow however, I will be at a special emergency board meeting where we’ll go through the motions
and they will reprimand me. But then I will gather all my friends on the board and call in all my favors to
force a vote on whether to keep you on as General Manager. And guess what, you’ll lose. I guarantee
it. So, in the end, you may keep Trish and Lisa Marie off tonight’s show, but they will wind up a part of
this roster and you’ll be on the unemployment line. And the second you are out the door, I will be waiting
with some friends to kick your ass. So, go ahead and pick up the phone. I dare you.
Debra grabbed the phone receiver, lifted it up to her ear and then hesitated for a second. The sudden
idea of being forced from the business that made her rich and famous a second time shot chills down
Debra’s spine and a second later, she replaced the receiver on the cradle and took a deep breath,
resigned to a fate she had no control over.
DEBRA: Fine. You win.
PAM: What was that? I didn’t hear you. Speak up.
DEBRA: (through gritted teeth) I SAID YOU WIN.
PAM: I win what?
DEBRA: You win Ms. Anderson. Your girls can have their match.
PAM: Ahh, you finally know your place.
DEBRA: Don’t push it Pam. I can’t fight you on this, but keep pushing me and you could have an
‘unfortunate accident’. And guess what? You won’t be able to prove it was anything but an accident.
PAM: You wouldn’t dare.
DEBRA: Try me and find out. So, if that’s all, why don’t you go tell your friends, they better get ready
quickly. They’ll be on after the next match.
PAM: Watch your back Madusa. When the time comes, you won’t see me coming.
DEBRA: Then bring your army with you…..you’ll need ‘em.
With that, Pam stormed out of the office. Anger welled up inside Debra as she tried to take a sip from
her bottle of Pellagrino. The blonde reached her boiling point and hurled the glass bottle across the
room where it shattered against the wall. A second later, the phone rang and Debra took a deep breath
before she answered the call.
Debra Miceli had just sat down at her desk when the door to her office slammed open and in strode
Pamela Anderson.
Pamela Anderson.
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