A Selfie Stick Is Not an Instrument
(note: original idea by NazOwl Takashi. Read the original. It's awesome!)
(Vince is in his office playing his recorder. It sounds just awful.)
Stagehand: (knocks on door) Um, excuse me, but is there a wounded animal in there?
Vince: No! You're fired, damnit! (Throws office chair at stagehand; stagehand barely ducks in time and runs in fear; grumbles to himself) Stupid critic. (Phone rings, sees caller ID, groans and picks up phone) What do you want, Hunter?
Triple H: (from other end of line) Oh, I'm just calling to brag about my NXT Band. We sold out the past three shows AND we're going to play the Grapplebowl next week.
Vince: (stunned) The gra-gra-gra! The Grapplebowl?!
Triple H: Yep. Unfortunately, during last night's performance, Hideo Itami injured himself...again...which forced us to pull out of the event. So, I was hoping that the main roster could perform instead.
Vince: (nervous) Um...well...
Triple H: Hah! I knew it! You didn't turn the roster into a band like I did with the NXT roster! And even if you did, they would sound just like how XFL went for you; horribly! Well then, I'll just let you get back to your sagging ratings on Raw while I go have Tyler Bate perform another five-star xylophone solo.
Vince: (angrily) Hold it! It just so happens that the roster IS a band and WE WILL play at Grapplebowl! How do you like that, Mr. I-Jobbed-To-Warrior-At-Wrestlemania-12?
Triple H: Good luck with that, old man! But after hearing your band, the audience will need more than a Z-Pak. (Snickers, hangs up phone)
Vince: (gulps; to himself) I'm gonna need to drum up a marching band fast! (Chuckles) Heh, drum. Band humor.
(Cuts to multiple members of the roster reading a flyer that Vince posted throughout the building)
Becky Lynch: (reading flyer while working out) Looking for a purpose for your dull meaningless life?
Bray Wyatt: (reading flyer while in promo room filming his latest pre-taped promo) Then come be a part of the greatest band that ever lived.
Carmella: (reading while in catering) And be adored by thousands of people who will buy our tickets because we'll have Micheal Cole not shut up about it until the event sells out.
Randy Orton: (reading while on toilet) Not to mention, free food!
Seth Rollins: (reading while showering) Practice begins tonight at 8:30 sharp.
(Cuts to later that night, where Vince is riding to the practice hall he rented out with a plethora of instruments he rented stuffed in his limo. He looks down at his watch, which reads 8:35)
Vince: (to himself) Stupid rental guy made me late! That moron wouldn't know the difference between an oboe and an elbow! (Chuckles) Heh. More band humor. (Thinks) Hmm, maybe I could call Kassius Ohno up and give him this gimmick where he's a band geek and he makes a bunch of music puns! And his finisher could be called "The Diving Oboe Drop"! Then, when he actually starts to get the gimmick over, we bury and release him! (Laughs maniacally) Hah, brilliant!
(Cuts to inside, where the wrestlers are sitting in chairs and talking to each other. Vince goes to the front of the room )
Vince: Ok, everyone! Shut up! (Wrestlers quiet down) Now, how many of you have played an instrument before?
Bray Wyatt: (raises hand) Do instruments of torture count?
Vince: (disturbed) Uh...no.
Tyler Breeze: (Raises hand) Is a selfie stick an instrument?
Vince: I have no idea what that is, but no. (Tyler raises hand again) And Instachap-
Fandango: You mean Instagram?
Vince: That's not an instrument either! (Tyler lowers hand) That's fine, none of you have experience. Luckily, I have enough talent for all of you! (Laughs. Continues to laugh until he realizes that no one else is laughing)
Randy: (calls out) When do we get the free food?!
Vince: (ignores him) Ok, now repeat after me! (Plays six notes on recorder) Short people-I mean brass section, go! (Entire section all glares at Vince. Cedric Alexander, Enzo Amore, Noam Dar, Kalisto and Mustafa Ali all repeat the notes on their instruments) Now, the jobbers-I mean the wind section! (Zack Ryder, Bray Wyatt, Curt Hawkins, R-Truth, Tyler Breeze, Fandango, Rhyno and Heath Slater sigh as they repeat the notes) And the big, muscular, meaty (starts to salivate. Realizing that everyone is staring at him, snaps out of it) I mean the drum section... (Jinder Mahal, Big Show and Braun Strowman misinterpret his directions and try to blow on the sticks, resulting in the sticks being launched and pinning Vince to the wall; with a sigh) Too bad that didn't kill me.
(Cuts to later in practice)
Vince: Let's just try stepping in rhythm! Now, I want everyone to get up and stand in straight rows of five.
Seth Rollins: Is this where we all start kicking?
Vince: No, Seth, you're thinking of a chorus line.
Tyler: Kicking? I want to do some kicking! (Turns to Becky Lynch and kicks her in the shins)
Becky Lynch: Oww! Why you little- (Becky chases Tyler outside, where one can hear a bunch of crashing, then a long scream from Tyler. Everyone's eyes are widened)
Tyler: (sticks head out of door) Whoever owns the red Toyota, you left your lights on. (Steps out, where we can see that a trumpet has been wrapped around his throat. He calmly walks back to his seat. When he sits down, he emits a honk)
(Day Two)
(The band is marching down the street, all playing their instruments. In front of them, Tony Nese and Akira Tozawa are twirling flags)
Vince: (conducting the band as they all march) Guys, really twirl those flags! (Tony and Akira start to twirl the flags faster) Tozawa! Nese! If you don't spin faster, I'll rehire Hornswoggle and have you job to him, damnit! (Akira and Tony spin the flags so fast, they become airborne. They fly up and crash into a nearby billboard and explode. Everyone gasps. Noam Dar plays "Taps" on the trumpet while everyone bows their heads in respect. Meanwhile, Vince lies on the floor and curls himself into a ball.)
(Day three)
(Everyone is back in the practice center)
Vince: Ok, everyone, this is our last night of rehearsal before the show. And I know we haven't improved much since we began. (Everyone looks at Fandango, who accidentally poked himself in the eye with his flute) But, I have a theory! People talk loudly when they want to act smart, right?
Bray: (shouting) CORRECT!
Vince: So, if we play extremely loudly, people might think we're good! Everyone ready? (Everyone picks up their instruments) And-a-one, two, three, four! (The ensuing noise from the band causes all the windows in the practice hall to shatter. Vince is even knocked to the floor from the sound blast; picks himself up) Okay, new theory: maybe we should play so quietly, no one can hear us.
Enzo Amore: Well, maybe we wouldn't so bad if (turns to Randy Orton) SOME PEOPLE didn't try playing with big meaty fingers!
Randy Orton: (pokes Enzo in the chest) What did you say, shorty?
Enzo: Big! Meaty! Fingers!
Randy: Well, these fingers aren't just for grabbing people and RKOing them!
Enzo: Bring it on, old man! Bring it on!
Seth: (stepping between the two of them) No, people. Let's be smart and bring it off.
Carmella: Oh, so now Mr. Buckle-Bomb-Of-Doom is gonna preach to us?! (Everyone starts to argue with one another)
Vince: (shouting over the crowd) Guys! Wait! I know tensions are high, but-(everyone starts brawling with one another. Jinder Mahal and Zack Ryder are arguing with each other. Kalisto sneaks up behind and bashes Mahal over the head with a drum mallet) There's a deposit on that equipment! (Enzo and Randy charge towards each other with flutes, only to be smashed together with a pair of cymbals by Braun Strowman.) Settle down, please! (Becky Lynch knocks a tuba out of Carmella's hands and locks her in the Dis-Arm-Her. Tyler Breeze comes up to Lynch and kicks her. Becky lets go of Carmella, grabs a trumpet and chases Tyler with it. Everyone continues to brawl until the clock hits 10. Everyone stops.)
Heath Slater: Hey! Practice is over. (Everyone cheers. Everyone turns to leave, only for Vince to be in front of the door)
Vince: Well, you did it. You took my chance of happiness and you crushed it. Crushed it into tiny, bite-sized pieces. I truly expected better of you people. I guess I'm a loser for thinking that! Don't bother showing up tomorrow! I'll just say that you all died in a marching accident. So thanks! Thanks for nothing! (Walks out the door sadly)
Tyler: You're welcome.
Seth: What kind of animals are we?! That poor man turned to us in his hour of need, and we failed him. Vince has always been there for us when it was convenient for him! (Turns to Curt Hawkins) Curt! When you got lost on the way to the hotel that one time, who guided you there?
Curt Hawkins: My phone's GPS.
Seth: (turns to Randy Orton) And Randy! When your head was busted open after you fought Brock Lesnar, who stapled your head closed?
Randy: A medical trainer.
Seth: Right! So if we pretended that Vince was Curt's GPS or a medical trainer, then I'm sure that we pull together and discover what it truly means to be in a marching band!
Cedric Alexander: Yea, for the GPS! (Everyone cheers in agreement)
Seth: Now let's make Vince proud! (Prepares to conduct everyone) A-one! A-two! A-skiddly diddly do!
(Cuts to the next day where Vince is entering the stadium)
Vince: (forlorn) I guess they'll have to find another band. I just hope that-(See Triple H. Triple H gives him a smug wave; screaming in a panic) HUNTER DOESN'T FIND OUT! HUNTER! AGH! What are you doing here?
Triple H: (laughs smugly) I came to watch you bomb! So, where's your band?
Vince: (nervously) Umm, they couldn't come. They...uh...died.
Triple H: Oh? Then (points behind Vince) who are they?
Vince: (turns around and sees his band behind him; panicky) AGH! THAT WOULD BE MY BAND!
Seth: (eagerly) We're ready to perform, Vince!
Triple H: Well, Vince, this is exactly how I pictured this band would look (points to Fandango and Tyler Breeze taking selfies in their band uniforms and to Braun Strowman bench-pressing several drums)
Vince: Uh, they're very...eager (sighs. He, the band and Hunter go onto the platform that rises the band onto the stadium field)
Vince: (depressed) I guess this will be the last time I ever go out in public.
Seth: (cheerfully) That's the spirit, Vince! (The platform rises up and brings the band into to the stadium
Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the WWE Superband! (crowd cheers)
Tyler Breeze: (looking at crowd)These are some real uggo people.
Fandango: Maybe we're near one of those toxic waste dumps.
Vince: (sighing deeply) Ok, everyone...(looks back at Triple H, who's smirking at Vince)...let's get this over with. One...two three...four...(closes eyes and looks away, bracing for the worst. However, instead of a blast of horrible music, he hears a great-sounding trumpet piece from the Cruiserweight Division. Bray Wyatt plays a great piano solo. He and everyone step to the side to reveal Seth Rollins holding a microphone)
Seth: (singing) The winner takes all, it's the thrill of one more kill.
The last one to fall will never sacrifice their will.
(Tyler Breeze plays a drum solo. Everyone in the band rocks out on their instrument)
Don't ever look back on the world closin' in.
Be on the attack with your wings on the wind.
Oh, the games will begin.
(Triple H stares in shock, Vince gives him a smug grin and throws his baton away and uses his arms to conduct.)
Seth: And it's sweet, sweet, sweet victory, yeah.
And it's ours for the taking, it's ours for the fight!
(Triple H faints and gets carried away on a stretcher by two paramedics. Vince waves a smug goodbye to him and runs to the middle of the stage.)
Seth: And it's sweet, sweet, sweet victory, yeah. And the one who's last to fall. We will have sweet, sweet victory...
(Vince jumps up in the air in victory)
The end.