Disclaimer: I don't own them, they don't pay me. No idea what they do, not trying to offend or anything. If I did own them, I would be having some one-on-one training with the Viper ;)

A/N: So, this is another little story, requested by QueenofYourWorld .

Miz/Orton friendship.

K+, because Mike has a potty mouth.

ONWARD!!

Crap on the Locker Room Floor

"Ouch, crap that hurt!" Randy shook his foot, glaring at the bag on which he had just stubbed his big toe. "Who left their friggin' bag in the middle of the friggin' floor?"

"Oh, that's mine, sorry." Miz replied nonchalantly, and returned to lacing up his boots.

"Why is it here?"

" 'Cause I'm the MIZ… and I'm… AWESOMMEE!" he blared, making Randy wince in annoyance. A dull smack to the back of the head, followed by a muffled "Ouch!" from the Miz.

"Well, I'm the Viper, and you're ANNOYING!" retaliated Orton, playfully smacking his friend again.

"Whatever, abusive Grand-Wizard of the Baby Oil Club, or whatever the hell Cena said."

"Shut up and get your junk out of the friggin' walkway."

"Come on, Orton, you're a big boy. You can say it." Suddenly Mike's head met the cold locker room wall, Randy's forearm pressed painfully against his throat. Miz's smirk vanished.

"I choose not say it, because I cannot have my daughter dropping the f-bomb at my mother-in-law's during Sunday dinner. Someday, when you're lucky enough to find a woman dumb and blind enough to marry your sorry ass, you'll realize just how important that stuff is. Now, pick your crap up out of the middle of the floor."

"Damn, man! PMS much?" the Miz grumbled, rubbing his slightly reddened throat, grabbing his bag. Randy laughed, chucking a tube of forgotten muscle cream at him.

"Nah, you're the only guy that I can mess with that won't call me gay," Randy said, ticking off his fingers, "hit me, sit on me, get offended, or stare stupidly at me. I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Mike grinned. "Oh, come on! Call you gay? Everyone knows that you and Cena have something going on," he said, glancing at Randy. Slowly and deliberately, the Viper turned to stare at him, and once again the smirk vanished.

"Oh, shit," whispered Miz. He sprinted out of the locker room with a very pissed-off Randy close behind him, yelling something about removing "that ugly ass faux-hawk" hair by hair.

-Please review! Thanks!-