Title: Welcome to the Playgirl Mansion!
Characters: Many. And a few Ocs, only because...well, because we needed Bunnies! And a female Hugh Hefner. XP
Disclaimer: Weirdness. Just..weirdness.
Summary: I don't even really know what to say about this one...I was sick, and so I went to chill out—literally!—by watching a movie. So, on campus, "The House Bunny" was playing. I watched it with mild interest, and then, as I'm writing my paper the next day, I think, 'Wouldn't it be awesome to have a Playboy mansion...only full of wrestlers?!' And, thus, this was story was born. Oi! I intend for it to be very short, and not at all serious...And OMG, doing research was...I've never actually read Playboy or Playgirl... *blush* Again, this is another weird result of a fever. Anyway, onto the story~!
Every mile the tour bus managed to pass without breaking down brought a simultaneous sigh of relief and groan of despair from the WWE Superstars trapped on board.
"Dammit, Vince, will you just tell the man to pull over?!" Paul, otherwise known as Triple H, yelled up to the Chairman of the WWE, whose face was set in a hard scowl.
"She'll make it home," was Mr. McMahon's short answer, referring to the bus. There was another group groan. The bus had needed repairs for years, and, simply put, that just wasn't money Vince was willing to spend. So, now, here they were, watching the nearly-barren landscape pass them by as black smoke literally poured from the exhaust pipe. Even their ever-faithful driver was sweating, but he dared not say a word to the irate Vince. He valued his job far too much.
"Mark, make him stop the bus!" Glen groaned as he sat back in his chair, folding his arms angrily. "I want to get home in one piece!" The man known as the Undertaker turned to him with an incredulous expression.
"What the hell do you want me to do?" he asked, shaking his head. "If Vince won't listen to Helmsley, his own son-in-law, what makes you think he'll listen to me?"
Glen shrugged. "I don't know...You're more threatening, maybe?" he said sarcastically, earning himself an angry glance from both the Game and the Deadman.
Hunter sat down heavily in his seat, arms folded across his chest. "We're not going to make it another mile," he mumbled. "And then we're going to get stranded in the middle of nowhere and miss our rides home!"
Shawn Michaels gave his friend a pat on the shoulder, although he himself wasn't very optimistic either. "Hey...don't worry. Whatever happens, it'll work out. We'll get home...eventually...and then you'll get to see Steph and the girls, and I'll get to see Becca and the kids."
"Well ain't that sweet!" Edge taunted from a seat behind them. "So sweet I'm going to throw up!"
Shawn rolled his eyes and, in one motion, pushed his chair back as far as it could go, squashing Adam's legs in the process. He looked up and saw Randy, who was sitting next to Edge, barely holding back laughter as Adam screeched in pain.
"Hey! Shut up over there!" Beth Phoenix yelled, startling her seat-partner Santino Marella out of his nap. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"
"Not with you yelling," Maria muttered, instantly regretting it when she received a dirty look from the Glamazon.
"Shut up, bitch," Beth said shortly, which in turn got her a dirty look from Mickie James, before turning her attention back to Adam, who was now begging Shawn to pull his chair back up. "Edge, shut the hell up!"
"Tell him to get off me!" Adam groaned, trying now to pry his legs free. "His fat ass is going to paralyze me!"
"Fat?!" Shawn gasped, blue eyes going wide with shock. He sat up—luckily for Edge bringing his chair up with him—and stood over Adam looking furious. "Did you just call me...fat?"
Hunter sighed. "You're fucked now," he whispered to the Rated-R Superstar. "It was nice knowing you."
"Did you call me fat?!" Shawn demanded again, fists clenching at his sides. Adam rolled his eyes.
"I did. What are you gonna do about it?"
With a battle cry, Shawn grabbed Edge by the hair, pulling him up and out of the chair before slamming him hard onto the ground. Without giving him a chance to catch his breath, Shawn pounced on Edge, throwing lefts and rights as he straddled the younger man's waist.
"I'm. Not. Fat. You. Jerk!" Shawn was yelling, words accentuated by punches.
Some of the other guys began cheering the two on, while Hunter sat, shaking his head. Kane sighed and turned away from the battle, and 'Taker put his pillow over his head. Chris Jericho began cheering for Shawn very loudly...at least until Randy tried to shut him up by putting a pillow-case over his head, which inevitably lead to another fight. Beth started yelling at Santino to shut everyone up so that she could sleep, and the poor guy could only shake his head helplessly. Somehow, Cena, Victoria and Natalya were all asleep in the cacophony, their snores only adding to the noise.
"ALL OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Vince screamed from the front of the bus, cell phone all-but-crushed in his fist. He stood up and started to say more when, suddenly, the bus jerked to a complete stop, sending him stumbling forwards and everyone else tumbling back.
"What the hell happened?" he demanded, turning to the driver, who was shaking his head sadly.
"She's...dead," he said solemnly. "My bus...is dead..." he lowered his head on the steering wheel and began sobbing as Vince's eyes widened. He turned slowly to look at his employees...and every last one of them was giving him a death-glare.
Without a word, he ran off the bus, with several angry Superstars right behind him, clamoring for revenge.
"Alright, now that that's settled," Vince announced between coughs, trying to straighten out his torn suit and disheveled hair. He looked like he had just stepped out of a dryer. "Let's take role, to make sure everyone's still here." He glanced down at his list. "Hunter?"
Triple H raised his hand comically. "Here, Teacher!"
Vince rolled his eyes."Shawn?"
"Right here!"
"Taker?" No answer. "Taker? Mark?"
"Open your damn eyes, old man, I'm right in front of you!"
"Kane?"
"Sadly, here."
"Beth?"
"Right here."
"Santino?"
"I am present, but I--"
"Edge?"
"Here...and going to kill Shawn Michaels for giving me a black eye!"
"That's nice," Vince continued. "Randy?"
"Here to stay."
"Jericho?"
"In the flesh."
"Maria?"
"Present!"
"Mickie?"
"As always."
"Natalya?"
"Right here...yeah baby."
"Victoria?"
"Always here, and ready."
"Cena?" Again, no answer. "Cena? Cena, where the hell are you?!"
"I'm up here," the World Heavyweight Champion called from his precarious perch in a tree. "And I think I see a big house not too far down the road!"
Vince nodded. "Excellent." He scanned the small crowd in front of him. "Now then, ladies and gentlemen, I want you all to be on your best behavior when we knock on this person's door. I hope that the owner will accept us into his home while we wait for the bus to be fixed, and I don't want him getting a bad impression of you idiots." His eyes narrowed. "Understand?"
Some nodded, some rolled their eyes, other snickered, but Vince took the sound and movement to be generally positive. So, with great reluctance, he led the group in the direction Cena had pointed. It wasn't long before they came upon what indeed was a very large mansion, surrounded on all sides by trees. It was very well hidden, and many of the Superstars stopped walking just to stare at the beauty of the place. There were flower gardens everywhere, and wide open space in the back. A huge water fountain sat in front of the mansion, which seemed more like a castle the closer they got to it.
Mr. McMahon slowly walked up to the stairs to the door and knocked briskly three times. He could hear some noise from behind the door, and, suddenly, it was opened by a very clean-shaven young man with long black hair and similarly dark eyes. He was dressed casually, but beautifully, with white lounge pants that were almost sheer in the light and a white, long-sleeve, button-down shirt made of the same material. His hair was neatly combed and held back with a white ribbon, a few stray stands framing his face, and his feet were wrapped in ancient Greek-style sandals that were also white.
He was quite literally breathtaking, and every eye that fell on him either immediately looked away or stayed fixed to his perfect form.
"May I...help you?" he asked with a slight accent, although his English was excellent.
Vince stared a moment longer before coughing once. "Um, yes...My name is Vince McMahon, and I was traveling with these fine men and women when our tour bus broke down...If you please, will you allow us to stay in your home until our only mode of transportation is repaired?"
"Since when did McMahon get so nice?" Orton asked with a roll of his eyes, earning a few snickers.
"Since he laid eyes on the most beautiful human male on Earth," Victoria whispered with a laugh.
The young man smiled brightly. "I would say yes, of course, but this isn't my house." He opened the old door wide. "However, I'm sure that my Mistress will be glad to receive you all into her home."
"Mistress?" Shawn whispered, looking over to Triple H, who shrugged. "That can't be good..."
"Please, come in, come in," the beautiful youth encouraged, taking Vince by the arm while motioning to the others. "My name is Andrei, and welcome to the Mansion!"
One by one, as the Superstars stepped inside, their jaws dropped to the floor and their eyes nearly fell out of their heads as they took in the sights around them.
The entire house seemed to be decorated in a very old, early Medieval style. And everywhere one turned, there was a handsome male sitting or standing, talking or laughing, or interacting with another beautiful male. From what they could see, the house was full of men, hundreds of them, some fully dressed, and others wearing precious little. It was like paradise...if heaven was full of beautiful men in various states of undress.
"I...I've died and gone to heaven..." Maria muttered before fainting into Natalya's arms, only to be promptly dropped on her ass as the 3rd generation Diva gawked along with everyone else.
"What the hell...is this place?" the Undertaker asked aloud, green eyes wide.
Andrei, who was walking a little ahead, turned to the group with a smile. "Oh, how rude of me, I should have been more specific in the beginning." He bowed formally, dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "Welcome, one and all, to the Playgirl Mansion!"
Review? (laughs)
