A sudden betrayal.

Alexa's horrified screams ring through the air as the topless blonde hugs the shredded fabric of her top to her exposed breasts. Mickie James gapes at Alexa, silently mouthing the words, "Oh my God, sorry, sorry, sorry". The men and women in the crowd, whom could no longer collectively contain themselves, broke into a round of spontaneous applause at the sight of Little Miss Bliss's pert, ample, sunkissed tits.

As Alexa's brain tried to process the humiliation welling up inside her, Little Miss Bliss' body telegraphed for all to see her acute embarrassment and shame. While her left hand clutched the torn top to her breasts, her right hand was flying back and forth between her scantily-clad, thong-covered ass and the small triangle of black fabric covering her womanhood, trying to prevent the audience from seeing her sensual cuves. She was also trying to block the cameramen from pointing their massive, HD camera lenses at her half-naked, 5'1" frame. Her eyes, meanwhile, were the size of saucers and her mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

Torrie Wilson stood a few feet behind, covering her mouth and softly snickering at the distraught, topless, Wicked Witch of the WWE. Alexa stared vacantly at the laughing crowd but then her eyes landed back onto the shocked face of Mickie James. "YOU!" Alexa screamed, launching a hard punch that slammed into Mickie's jaw, sending the underwear-clad brunette straight to the ground. "Maybe if you stopped stuffing that fat face of yours with food, you would remember to pack your own underwear! And speaking of fat, my panties are going to be stretched beyond repair by your gross, fat, pudgy ass!" Bliss squeals at James and, still using her left arm to hug her ripped top against her bare breasts, begins stomping Mickie into the ground, brutally drilling her heels into her teammate's toned abdomen, shouting and delivering a stomp between each word, "you . . . little . . . bitch . . . this is all your fault . . ."

The crowd rains down jeers, booing Alexa for her treacherous ****. "You think you can rip off my top infront of all of these losers?! I'm not like you! I'm NOT a diva! I'm a Goddess! I don’t have to get a Playboy deal to make up for a lack of talent in the ring like your generation!" Alexa screeches before drilling the toe of her black, thigh-high boot between Mickie's thighs. Alexa sneers down at James, watching her writhe and cry with sadistic glee. "I don’t compete in bra and panties matches, or pillow fights, or lingerie fights, or bikini contests! And you wanna know why? It's because I'm not a slut and I'm better than you! Hell, I'm better than the entire generation of Divas from the 90's and 2000's! These creeps in the audience don't deserve to see my body!" Alexa verbally berates Mickie, whom is sobbing in pain, cradeling her sore, abdomen and groin.

"But they certainly deserve to see yours. Now, give me back my bra!" Alexa growls before pushing James' shoulder with her foot, forcing her to roll over. Reaching down with her free hand Alexa grabbed onto the clasp of the bra and, with a quick snap of her fingers, Alexa unhooked the bra and whipped it out from under Mickie's body. With lightning-fast speed, Alexa successfully pulls her bra back on, covering her breasts, giving the audience only a small glimpse of her exposed breasts in the process.

The arena is filled with boos as Alexa's mouth curls in an arrogant smirk. Five Feet of Fury proceeds to stand over Mickie's body, rolling the blubbering diva onto her back, revealing her freed tits. Alexa delivers a final stomp to Mickie's face, knocking her out and leaving her spread-eagle. "Even though I don’t want these anymore, you still can't have them!" Bliss petulantly shrieks, hooking her fingers into the waistband and ripping the panties down Mickie's spread, limp legs, exposing the **** diva's thin, meticulously shaven landing strip. With her former friend stripped completely naked, Bliss can't help but smile in satisfaction.

The Wicked Witch of the WWE is so elated from getting her **** that she has almost forgotten that she, herself, is merely clad in a skimpy, black thong, lace-trimmed, leopard print bra and thigh-high, black boots. With a condescending wave goodbye to the ****, spread-eagled, stripped naked Mickie James, Alexa turns on her heel, her hands instinctively covering her buttcheeks as she takes a step forward to leave. But Alexa's areogant smirk is suddenly replaced with a look of shock. Before her stands Torrie Wilson, fully clothed and seething with rage.

"You think you're better than me?" Torrie growls, taking a menacing step forward, causing Alexa to take a step back and shake her head, pleading with the towering blonde. But Torrie only continues walking forward, taunting the short blonde, "You think just because I posed for Playboy that I can't wrestle? You think that you're above MY generation?! I may not have a fancy list of moves and I may not be as young as I once was, but I'm good enough to kick your little ass!"

As Torrie verbally assaults and rapidly walks closer toward Alexa, the 5 foot blonde hastily backpedals while waving her hands in mercy.