A/N: Ah, my 80th story. Funny, I believe that's how old Jericho is... the slut that he is.

"I'm quitting the wrestling business."

Everyone just kind of stared at Chris, while he just smiled back. Mack was the first to speak up, and it was only after she just about downed her martini.

"You're serious."

He looked over at her, content as a half-retarded puppy. "Yes! I've found my calling."

Kaitlyn pressed her palm to her forehead. "Lord, here we go."

"What's... God, I'm afraid to ask." Adam gulped his beer. "What's your calling?"

"I'm going to be..." Jericho sighed dreamily. "A model."

Nobody did anything, except Cody, who just slowly put his head down and started shaking with silent laughter.

Jericho looked around. "I figured it was a disservice to the fashion community to let this beauty go to waste."

"Uh huh."

Cody just pounded his fist against the table, a screech of laughter slipping out.

Jericho frowned and patted his back. "I guess he's taking it harder than I thought he would," he whispered loudly.

Cody looked up, face red. He wiped his eyes. "Oh, yeah. I'm in tears, Chris."

"Dry those tears, child." Jericho wiped at his cheeks. "You guys will still be able to see me. You'll just need an appointment now!"

Everyone tittered awkwardly.

Jericho checked his phone. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid I have to dash. I'm getting some warm-up shots taken tonight and they expect me there in fifteen minutes! This booty's gotta get moving." He stood up and stuck a joint in his mouth, lighting it with a hundred dollar bill.

"You can't smoke in here!" Adam hissed.

"Weed especially!"

Jericho rolled his eyes and dropped the flaming bill on the table. "Tell her to keep the change. Toodles!"

Everyone watched him walk out the front door, fixing his piecy coif in the window. He waved and went off.

"Twenty bucks he's broke by Friday," Becky said quietly.

"Was that Jericho that just walked outta here?" Randy sat down in Chris's seat. "I can still smell his cologne."

"Yeah. He's leaving the business, did you hear?"

"Yeah. Wants to be a model."

"Yep."

Randy paused, beer near his mouth. "I give him fifteen hours."

"GUYS!" Jericho burst through Adam's front door, slamming it so hard it almost shattered the glass. He could hear Jay and Adam talking in his office. "GUYS!"

They were sitting around Adam's computer, and Adam was pointing at some video they were watching, laughing. But they stopped and closed the box when Chris walked in.

"Guys!" Jericho held up a manila envelope. "I got my head shots!"

"Great," Adam said nonchalantly, going past him into the kitchen. He glanced at the stove, where Mack had left a pot of something boiling, and got two beers from the fridge. "Jericho, you want one?"

"Or do you not drink anything but Dom Perignon now?" Jay teased, taking one of the bottles from Adam. He looked around the room. "Adam, you need a cat mural."

"No, thanks, Jay."

"No, really, I'm being totally serious. It brightens up the room, especially if it's a tabby cat, because they－"

"Take a look!" Jericho pulled out the first sheet and handed it to Adam, handing the envelope to Jay.

Adam held back rolling his eyes as he lifted the glossy photos, but the second he did he wished his eyes had burned out of their sockets. "AHH!"

Jericho smiled. "Aren't they wonderful?"

Adam's eyes scanned the whole page before he screeched again and tossed it into the pot next to him.

Chris dove in after it. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"I'm sorry! It was my first instinct!"

Jay's eyes scanned the pages he was holding, mouth set in concentration. "You have no hair."

"I had it removed to accentuate my tight－"

Adam's beer slipped from his hands and splintered against the floor, frothy liquid sliding everywhere.

Jay cocked his head and turned the next picture sideways. "Oh, I can really experience the length in this one."

"Look at it upside through your legs. You'll really get the feel of it, then!"

"I thought..." Adam took a deep breath and covered his eyes for a second. "I thought these were head shots."

"They are, silly."

"I THOUGHT YOU MEANT YOUR FACE!"

Chris put his hands on his hips. "Now why would you ever think that?"

"Oh, yeah!" Jay struggled slightly, holding the picture behind him while he gazed at it between his knees. "I get what you're saying! WOW!"

Adam struggled to breathe, so he just bent down to try to clean up the mess he made. But he caught a glimpse of how Chris was standing behind him, and he shot up. "DON'T STAND LIKE THAT!"

Chris had his hands behind his back, lower half pushing out. "Stand like what?"

"Don't act stupid!" Adam glanced at Jay, then looked at him again, angrily snatching the photos from his hands. "Give me those!"

"Hey, I was looking at－"

"Here." Adam stuffed them in Chris's hands. "Take these. I don't want to see them. Ever."

Chris huffed, stuffing them back into the envelope. "Fine! But when I make it big, don't come crying to me when you have no money!"

"I'M A WRESTLER!" Adam yelled after him. "I make more money for one match than you will for your entire modeling career!"

"We'll see about that." Chris ripped open the front door. "Good-bye, EX-best friend!"

"You were never my best friend to begin with!"

Chris gasped. "You bitch!"

"Just get out of here!"

"I'm already gone!" Chris slammed the door behind him.

Jay looked over at Adam after a moment of silence. "Am I your best friend?"

Adam just blinked at him. "You're an idiot."

Jay opened his mouth to say something, but he shut it and just watched Adam walk away. He followed him. "Hey, wait, is that a yes?"

"You sure you don't want to go?"

Adam glanced up from the book he was reading. "I'm perfectly fine staying here."

"Come on, Adam, Chris is your best friend."

"He's a retard."

"But we all love him for that."

"He's a fucking queen. I'm not dealing with him and his pornographic photo shoots anymore."

Mack sat down next to him and pushed his hair back. "You're trying to tell me you don't miss him, not even a little bit?"

"Nope," he said quickly, eyes on his book.

Mack sighed. "Fine. I'll be back later."

"Have fun."

Adam waited until the door slammed before he put his book down with a sigh. The house was completely quiet.

And then someone's fist came crashing through the window.

Adam just blinked as the person tried to find the lock, but gave up and just smashed the window some more, so he could get in.

"You could've used the front door," Adam said monotonously.

Chris tumbled through, landing on the glass below him. He dusted himself off and stood up. "I'm still mad at you."

"Is that why you broke my window?"

"No, I need a favor."

"I need a new window now."

"Stop making smart remarks, sir!" Chris started pacing the room. He was wearing a half-shirt that was fringed at the bottom, "Baby Cakes" stamped across his chest. His jean shorts were cut so high up that the pockets stuck out past the hem.

Adam furrowed his brow to keep himself from laughing. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"My new clothing line." Chris tapped his chin. "I need a favor, Adam."

"I'm not going to be your escort for your debut tonight."

"No, no, it's not that. I need twenty bucks."

Adam let out a sigh. "Why?"

"And I need your help with this prop plane I have outside..."

Adam looked up. Chris had pierced his belly-button. "A prop plane?"

"Yeah. I'm going to fake my own death. Before I sell out."

Adam covered his eyes, tempted to gouge them out. "You're joking, right?"

"No, I need your help. The dummy I bought is realistic, but really, it just doesn't accentuate my broad shoulders, so－"

"Chris, I'm not helping you."

"Please, Adam! I'm sorry I called you a bitch. I just can't handle this life anymore. I want to be a wrestler again."

"You don't think people will recognize you if you die and then come back to the WWE?"

"People didn't notice when you left Puddle of Mudd to become a wrestler."

"I thought I warned you not to joke about that."

"Oh, I'm sorry. It was the Phillies you left."

Adam couldn't hide his smile this time. "You son of a bitch."

"So will you help me?"

Adam sighed heavily, getting up from the couch. "I guess I have no choice."

"Oh, Adam!" Chris threw his arms around his neck. "I'm sorry I called you my ex-best friend! You're not, you're my best friend, and so is Jay－"

"Please don't hug me while you're wearing that."

Chris let go, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry."

Adam shuddered. "I could feel your belly ring through my shirt."

"Don't you love it? It really brings out the contours and valleys of my abs."

Adam looked away. "Uh huh."

Chris sighed happily, throwing his arm around Adam's shoulders. "I'm happy to get back into the business."

"Good. We could use a new diva."

A/N: I just want to point out that I do not agree that Edge looks like either of those guys. (Especially Werth... ew.) Edge is the most handsome guy on this planet, and there is no way you could ever duplicate his good looks. By the way, I have another story planned out, so 81 is going to be fantastic. I just don't know if it'll be copyright infringement or not. REVIEW.