Carlito's Bad Day
Hey there, folks! L1701E here! I'm a wrestling fan, so I thought I would provide a good laugh by torturing WWE's resident Razor Ramon-wannabe, Carlito Caribbean Cool, the arrogant apple-spitting wrestler. Besides, most of the wrestling fics are just a bunch of dumb fangirl romances, so I thought this would be a nice change. Enjoy the story, and I hope you all get a good laugh out of this!
Disclaimer: All characters are property of Titan Sports. And here's a quote: "B'le dat, playa!" - Theodore Long
Author's Note: Thanks to Haretrigger for ideas for Carlito torture!
A hotel in Los Angeles
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRING!
"Ugh…" A Caribbean-accented voice grumbled as he turned off the alarm clock and got up from his bed. His brown hair looked like a bizarre hybrid of an afro and a palm tree. His arm was in a cast. This was Carlito Caribbean Cool, an arrogant second-generation wrestler and former United States Champion. He was dressed in a white muscle shirt and boxers.
"Carlito too cool for this." He grumbled as he got to his suitcase. He opened it and pulled out some clothes, a loud Hawaiian shirt and a pair of jeans among them. Carlito had to be careful because he had a bum arm. He went into the bathroom and closed the door. The sounds of a shower running could be heard, as well as screaming. "YEEEEEOWWWWWWW! TOO COLD! TOO COLD! OWWW! TOO HOT! TOO COLD! HOT COLD HOT COLD HOT COLD HOT COLD HOT COLD HOT COLD HOT COLD!" After 45 minutes of trying to avoid getting scalded or frozen, the sounds of a grumbling Carlito were heard. The grumbling wrestler walked out of the bathroom fully dressed. He eyed a fruit bowl and raised an eyebrow.
"Hmmm…" Carlito, with a smug smile, took the apple out of the bowl, and bit into it. His face formed an expression of disgust. He slowly pulled the apple out of his mouth. A worm crawled out of the bite mark. "Augh!" Carlito dropped the apple in shock. "I gotta get out of here."
A McDonalds
Carlito, in his infinite coolness, decided it'd be cool to McDonalds for breakfast. He loved their Hash Browns.
"McDonalds' hash browns are cool." Carlito smiled his smug smile as he parked in front of the restaurant. He walked in, thoughts of hash browns dancing in his head.
"Are you Carlito?" A little voice piped up. Carlito looked down and saw a little kid, around eight, staring up at him, dressed like John Cena. Externally, Carlito raised a eyebrow, but internally, he was seething. Why did this kid have to dress like that thug John Cena?
"Yeah, what do you want? An autograph?"
"You suck!" The kid yelled, then punched the wrestler in the groin. The Caribbean howled as he fell to the ground and clutched himself.
"AWWWWWW! Stupid kid!" He yelled at the kid as the kid ran away. "That's not cool! Ow…" After a few minutes, Carlito managed to get to his feet. The wrestler hissed and grunted as he staggered to the counter.
"May I help you, sir?" The pimply-face kid behind the register asked Carlito. The wrestler smirked and tried to maintain his aura of cool.
"Yes, you can help Carlito, you pizza-faced bug. Get Carlito a Number 1 with hash browns." The kid blinked.
"Uh sir…it's 11:02."
"So?" Carlito scowled.
"So…breakfast ends at 11." The kid replied.
"That's not cool." Carlito scowled. He magically produced an apple from his coat pocket. He bit on the apple, chewed it up a little, and spit it in the face of the kid. He then grabbed the kid by his shirt front and started yelling at him in Spanish.
"HELP!" The kid yelled. A couple cops who happened to be there for breakfast got up, walked over to Carlito, and grabbed his shoulder.
"Huh?" The Caribbean wondered. He quickly let go of the kid and straightened out his shirt. "Is there a…problem…officers? Heh heh." He tried to look innocent.
"Let's go, pal." One of the cops said. Carlito yelped, protested, and screamed in Spanish as the cops dragged him out of the McDonalds, and threw him into a pile of garbage cans. "OW!"
The gym, later that day
"Ahhh…the gym. The gym is cool." Carlito smirked as he walked into the gym. He flexed his arm. "The perfect place to flex Carlito's cool muscles." He sat down on a bench when he grabbed a barbell. He noticed a pretty brunette woman using barbells. The Caribbean wrestler smirked and strutted up to her. "Hey pretty lady." The woman looked up.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
"You look cool." Carlito told her. The woman blinked.
"Uh…thanks…I think."
"How'd you like to get with Carlito Caribbean Cool? He King of Cool." Carlito offered. The woman sneered.
"Get lost, creep!" She nailed Carlito in the groin with a barbell. The wrestler howled as he clutched himself, stumbling backwards. He knocked over a couple bodybuilders and stumbled into a rack of barbells.
"OW! Ohhhhh…" Carlito moaned. The bodybuilders he knocked over stomped over to the afro-packing wrestler angrily. They hefted him up from the pile of barbells he was under. "Is there a problem, officers?" Carlito mumbled dizzily. The two bodybuilders started wailing on the wrestler. "AAAAAAARGH! HELP ME! SOMEONE SAVE CARLITO! HE TOO COOL FOR THIS!"
A local collectibles shop
Carlito walked into the collectibles shop. He was looking for some geeks to make fun of. After all, Carlito was cool, and it was required for cool people to make fun of comic and collectible geeks. At least he thought so. He eyed a comic book geek reading a comic. Carlito smirked and walked over to the kid. "Hey geek!" The kid looked up.
"Yes?" The kid asked.
"What you reading?"
"X-Men." The kid replied. Carlito shook his head.
"That's not cool." Carlito shook his head. He produced an apple out of his pocket and took a bite.
How does he do that? The kid thought. Carlito chewed the apple. He then spit it at the kid. "Hey!" Carlito snatched the comic and took a look at it. He smirked and repeated his actions, spitting on the comic, and then smacking the kid in the face with it.
"Wolverine ain't cool." Carlito chuckled as he walked away. The kid growled. He took a bat with Sammy Sosa's signature on it and he started wailing on Carlito. "HEY! OW! THAT HURTS! AIE!" The kid nailed a downed Carlito in the groin with his bat. "AAAIEEEEEEE!"
In town
Carlito was walking down the street when he noticed a stand on the street manned by four girl scouts. The Caribbean wrestler raised an eyebrow.
"What's this?" Carlito asked as he walked up to the stand. The girls grinned.
"Hello, sir? Would you like to buy some cookies for charity?" One scout asked, holding out a box of cookies. Carlito scoffed.
"No. Girl Scout Cookies aren't cool."
"Pleeeeeeeease?" The girl did the 'puppy eyes' face. Carlito was not impressed.
"No!" Carlito whacked the cookies out of the girl's hand. The wrestler chuckled and walked away. The girls stared at him and produced four weapons: A bat, a taser, a pair of brass knuckles, and a crowbar. The girls ran toward Carlito and started wailing on him. "OWWWWWWW! HEY! HELP! OW! MAMA! NOT THAT ARM! OOH! AIEEEE! OKAY! OKAY! CARLITO BUY COOKIES! CARLITO BUY COOKIES!" Carlito screamed girlishly. The girls stopped their beating, smiling. One girl took his wallet. And for good measure, the taser-wielding girl gave a taser shot to Carlito's groin, causing the wrestler to scream like a girl while getting into the fetal position and flopping like a fish.
The bar
Carlito walked into the bar. He needed a drink to get his mind off the fact that he was beaten up by a bunch of girl scouts. They were wielding weapons and they were bloodthirsty money-hungry little monsters, but they were still girl scouts. The wrestler sat at the bar, and he happened to notice a pretty redhead sitting at the bar, dressed in a tight black WWE t-shirt, tight blue jeans, cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, and a denim jacket. Carlito smirked and sauntered over to her.
"Hey, pretty lady." Carlito smirked. The woman blinked.
"Hey, I know you." The lady pointed at the wrestler. "You're Carlito Caribbean Cool."
"That's me." Carlito chuckled. "You look like someone who knows about cool. I'm sure you'd be the perfect cool girl for Carlito, who is cool. You being with Carlito, that's really cool." The girl scrunched her face. "Carlito is a United States Champion."
"No way, loser." The girl scowled. "John Cena smashed your face in for the US Title. He also smashed in the face of your little boyfriend Jesus. Not to mention you're a jerk."
"That's not cool." Carlito scowled back. He magically produced an apple from his shirt pocket.
How does he do that? The woman thought. She got chewed-on apple all over her thanks to Carlito.
"I spit in the face of people who don't want to be cool!" Carlito snapped.
"TODD! THIS JERK JUST SPAT ON ME!" The woman screamed. Carlito laughed happily until he felt a hand grab his throat. The wrestler found himself staring into the eyes of a six-foot-six, 360-pound mountain of pure muscle dressed in an army uniform. The muscle man hefted a gibbering Carlito up in the air.
"Y-y-y-you wouldn't hit a man with glasses, would you?" Carlito whimpered as he fumbled on a pair of glasses and a huge wet spot grew on his pants. The man then started beating the unholy snot out of the wrestler. "MAAAAAMAAAAAA!"
The Staples Arena, that night
The Staples Arena in Los Angeles was the latest site for SmackDown, the WWE's Thursday night program. Carlito walked into the office of SmackDown's General Manager, Theodore Long, who also worked as a ref and a manager back in the day. The Caribbean groaned. He knew that Theodore Long was going to make him do something embarrassing.
"What do you want, Long?" Carlito asked the bald glasses-wearing African-American. "Carlito had a bad day, and Carlito still has a bit of a limp from that girl scout tasering Carlito in the groin!"
"Man Carlito, I don't need to hear what you do in your personal time, playa! Dat's your business!" Theodore exclaimed. "But since you had a bad day, I think the news I'm gonna give you just may brighten it up a little bit." Carlito raised an eyebrow. "Since you've done a good job, I'm giving you a chance to earn yourself a shot at the US Title. All you have to do is beat Booker T."
"You mean it?" Carlito blinked.
"Of course, playa!" Long grinned. Carlito whooped.
"Alright! That is cool! Very cool!" Carlito grinned.
"There's just one condition, playa." Long pulled out a box from his desk and gave it Carlito. "You have to wear this special ring gear." Carlito blinked. He opened the box and his eyes widened.
"No way! Carlito not wearing that! That's not cool, man! Carlito had a bad day! Carlito don't need this!"
"You wearin' it, you ain't gettin' a shot at a shot for the US Title! B'le dat, playa!" Long snapped. "Sorry about your day, and take it easy on dat arm, playa."
"Grrrrr…" Carlito groused as he snatched the box and stomped off.
SmackDown, later that night
Booker T waited in the ring. The winner of the match would get a shot at the United States Championship. Carlito's music then hit. However, there was no sign of the wrestler.
"Where could Carlito be, Tazz?" Michael Cole asked his broadcast partner.
"I have no idea, Cole. He probably is out getting his apple or something." A scuffle could be seen at the entrance ramp, and Carlito was shoved out. "What the?"
"Oh my!" Michael Cole laughed. Carlito was dressed as a ballerina, complete with pink tights, ballet shoes, tutu, and even a tiara on his head, and some wings on the back for decoration. The fans laughed in delight. The referee and Booker T also burst out laughing.
"Cole, did he raid your closet?" Tazz laughed at the sight. Carlito stomped slowly to the ring, scowling.
"And coming to the ring…heh heh…at 5'10" hee hee…and weighing in at 234 pounds…haha…" The ring announcer said, trying not to laugh. "…The Magic Fairy Princess, Carlito!" The ring announcer started laughing, as did everyone in the arena. Carlito growled.
Carlito is going to get a gun and shoot everyone here. Carlito is a second-generation wrestler! He don't deserve this! Carlito walked into the ring. However, his bad night got even worse. Booker T, despite laughing his head off, nailed Carlito with the Book End, and got the win, and the title shot.
After the match
Carlito moaned as he walked around backstage.
"Oh God…Carlito just wants this bad day to end so he can go to bed." Carlito moaned, walking into a shower room, not noticing the "Divas' Locker Room" sign. "Hey…what're you ladies doing here?" Carlito could be heard asking from behind the door in the midst of the Divas screaming.
"GET OUT OF HERE, YOU PERVERT!" The Divas screamed. It was followed by the sounds of Carlito screaming accompanying the sounds of the Divas beating the snot out of him.
"Maybe he'd like a scrubber brush where the sun don't shine!" The voice of Torrie Wilson could be heard from behind the door.
"OWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCHIEEEEEE! OH MAMA! " Carlito howled.
The Staples Arena parking lot
A whimpering Carlito limped onto the parking lot, sporting a black eye, a tattered costume, a bloody mouth, among other injuries. He also had a tail that suspiciously resembled the handle of a scrub brush.
"Help Carlito…" Carlito whimpered. "Save Carlito…Carlito in pain…Carlito want his mommy…" He heard a screeching noise. "What AARGH!" Carlito got hit by JBL's limo racing out a high speed. The limo was on fire, and a screaming Carlito was sent flying into a pile of boxes. The limousine crashed into a WWE Truck, and John Bradshaw Layfield kicked his way out of the limo. The arrogant businessman was ablaze.
"Help me! I'm on fire!" JBL screeched, running and jumping around, flailing his fiery arms about like a lunatic. "It hurts! Someone help me!"
"Carlito should've stayed in bed today." The second-generation wrestled muttered to himself.