Are You Ready?
by
SpiritStream17
SS17's Note: YES! It's sick, but thank god for the NWO revival. Now I have a brilliant idea to bring up my own revival fanfic. Trust me, I think the title gives it away. It all begins one night after RAW on 2/18/02 in which Rocky was hurt by the NWO, nearly ending his career forever. It is now up to three men to make the revival of the sickest, twisted, vile, and mischevious group known in World Wrestling Federation history. It is the last resort to stop this reign of terror. Can this terror known as the NWO finally be put to rest? RnR!
Chapter One - Memory Remains
***
Fortune, fame
Mirror vain
Gone insane
But the memory remains
- Memory Remains by Metallica
***
It was a night I would never forget. The pain of the hammer stricking into my back burned my flesh to a crisp. The earthquake from the impact jambled my brain, forcing my body to fall down onto the mat. They were trying to get payback. They didn't want me to have the last laugh. The three of them, the merciless bastards that they were, that they are, batter and bruise my body until I don't know if I'm in Kansas or in California. They even had the audacity, when I was losing my mind, to put their logo in black spraypaint on my back. The last straw was taken when they rammed a truck into the ambulance I was stretched into.
I was scared stiff. My bones were aching, the cuts, gashes, and wounds poured pints of blood onto the floor. I struggled to survive, to keep my mind fully focused on the people trying to pry the chain and doors open to get me out of here. Before I knew it, fuel was leaking from the ambulance, which I heard from a man outside. They needed the fire department and a new ambulance. I didn't know what to do. I was mainly paralized. All I could do was breathe and, thank God, talk. Minutes went by, which felt like hours on end, and I was still in this hellhole. The men outside tried to keep talking with me, to see if I was still alive and hanging on. I tried to talk with them, but the blood in my mouth and the headache pounding like a sledgehammer on a steel anvil made me have to respond in a whisper.
Many of the wrestlers came outside to check and talk with me. They kept giving me faith and hope which I had lost ever since the first time the truck hit the ambulance. Matt and Jeff Hardy kept rooting me on, saying to be fearless. Jeff made me laugh when he said, "Just don't be an insane, rainbow freak like me." I whispered a response of don't make me laugh. Really, just don't. It hurts. Ric Flair then came out, yelling at me that the NWO would get their's to the fullest. I smiled, whispering a faint thanks. Unconciousness was fading into my mind and the leaking problem was turning for the worst. Hunter, one of my best friends, gave me the upmost support. He said, and I quote, "NWO are a bunch of selfish bastards Dwayne. I'm one of your best friends and they had the audacity to do this to you. I mean, come on! You're the Great One! You're the People's Champion! And from the bottom of my heart, Dwayne, you have to pull through. Not just for yourself, your family, your friends, but for the fans. Cause you are the Game, and you are that damn good." I was in awe of what he said. A tear fell down my eye since he said it truthfully.
Finally, I could hear the "okay" from the firemen that the leak was stable and undercontrol. I breathed a sigh of relief, screaming inside my mind a huge thank you prayer to God. The police officers then pried the chain off the doors and the firemen axed the doors down. All my friends cheered for joy outside, knowing that I was going to be fine now. The new ambulance was waiting for me as I was helped getting out of the old ambulance. As I was placed down, many of the wrestlers came up to me to give their condolences and retribution for what happened to me. As everyone left, Hunter stayed as I was put into the ambulance.
"The NWO's days are numbered," he said, with his green eyes flaring a red blaze within them. I smiled, making Hunter smile as well. Yet the red blaze of vengence was hidden in those green eyes of sincerity of his. "Count on it," he added.
As the doors were about to close, I came up with the idea. The perfect plan to destory the NWO before they killed any more of the WWF wrestlers. My eyes went wide, and I still don't know why no one came up with the idea yet. I tried to yell out the word plauging my mind, but I didn't have enough strength to announce it to the world. I sighed in defeat, pleading to myself a sorrowful apology.
My mind entered the blackness, and I could see no more.
Only that there is a big smile on my face.
A big, big smile.
***
I HATE THE NWO!!!!!!!!! They should be called the N What? O! Grrr! Lousy, no good, lying, double crossing, backstabbing, fuckin butt-ugly son of a bitches! And that goes for Jericho too! He's one of them! I hate him too! Ditto for Kurt! But I hate the NWO more! GRRRRRRRRRR!!! How dare they have the audacity to do this me?! ME?! What?! Me?! What?! ME! WHAT?! Stone Cold! What?! Stone Cold! What?! The Rattlesnake! What?! The BMF! What?! The SOB! What?! The Bionic Redneck! What?! The guy named Jed! What?! Chrome Dome! What?! The bastard from Texas! What?! What?! What?! God, they get me so... so... so fuckin' mad! I break the toilet after kicking it repeatedly. I lost count after thirty five. What? Thirty five. What? Thirty five! What? Trente y cinco! What?! What?! What?! Hmm... I think I need some ear medication. What?
I hate them so much. I hate them with a passion. A deep passion. I SUPREMELY UTTERLY GRANDLY OH-SO HATINGLY HATE THEM!!!!!!!!!!! Especially what they did to Rocky! ESPECIALLY! The bastards just wanted to get revenge on Rocky for him getting the upper hand, and I can understand that. But THAT?! THAT?! That is fucking way too far! Not even Hunter was that mean when he runned me over! He didn't back up and run over my limp and unconcious body again and again and again! And it's all because Rocky has such a big mouth! Dammit, I told him that one of these days it would get the best of him. Fuck, it did. Dammit! Shit! Goddammit! Shit! More shit! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!
I love venting. I love rambling. I love both. I need medication. Badly.
I knock off the bed from it's hindges, slamming it onto the ground and stomping it repeatedly. The thought of murdering the NWO was becoming sweet pleasure every second. The cops here didn't mind my stomping, cursing, or roaring of absolute, murderizing anger. They know my reputation all around the police stations of the world. Hell, most of the officers here knew me from different stations. Linda, one of the officers here, was the new cheif of this sanction. I was completely happy for her situation; consequently, she made my surroundings extremely better. Within an hour after my arrest, she installed a television set, black punching bag, bed, and most important of all: beer! She knew what I liked. Everyone was able to calm down a bit when I stopped screaming and throwing pieces of the broken toilet all around the cell room. Maybe cause I got my beer.
I was able to catch the last minute of RAW in my own room than the one from Linda's desk. The last match warmed my heart greatly. Hunter beated the ass of Kurt Angle like the fuckin' asshole that he is! And he got back his title shot! Now Jericho's days are really numbered. I kinda sighed at the fact of it all for me, though. I wouldn't be in the main event for Wrestlemania... again. But that's alright. As long as one of my friends got to be Jericho's ass, it would feel as if I was the one doing it. Well, at least within an hour I'm out of his prison cell. And I was getting used to it too, no da! With the spare time I have, I think back to the days before the NWO, before the Invasion, and before my run over. Back then, the days of fighting the WCW's ratings. That's when the WWF needed me. They needed someone with a new image, a new engima... a new person that represented today! Not just the WWF, the fans mostly. The fans needed me. And they got me. The highest point of my life was when the fans cheered the most at Wrestlemania X4. That's was the day I would never forget.
Then it hits me.
And I smile immensly.
Should I say... a smirk...
***
I think Ric Flair says it best: WOO! I did it! Kurt is a pancake, and I just ate his sorry ass. The feeling that I avenged Rocky is sensational! Well... sort of. You could say I avenged Austin more than Rocky. It was the stupid Hogan and his NWO crap that did it to Rocky. The poor guy. I hope he's alright in the hospital. I quickly pick up my bags while running out the door to my Ford truck. I turn off the radio in order to concentrate. Flooring the car to 100 MPH is not my style. That's usually Austin's.
The idea kept running through my head. The sad and tormented look on Dwayne's face haunted me. I had gotten a call after Dwayne was taken away to the hospital from Austin, and boy was he pissed. He and I couldn't stand what happened to our friend. We talked for a while and both hanged up. His time was up anyways. See, this idea was driving me to insanity. It was forcing me to execute it. Maybe because it was the only way to seek revenge. After defeated Kurt, I looked into Jericho's eyes. He was cocky. He can be cocky. Cause the NWO is on his side since the sorry SOB kisses Vince's ass to death. Bastard. Must have been fucking with my former wife so much. Yeah, yeah, I had a feeling they were having an affair, but I didn't care. The bitch was getting on my nerves anyways! Let them have each other. They are both sad assed cocky asshole's. Then the idea came back, and I had to smile and taunt. Keep the cocky smile, Jericho. Soon you'll be my bitch.
I finally reach the hospital and to my surprise, Austin was in the waiting room! I walked up to him, asking why he was here. He replied very casually that he was released eariler from his arranged time at midnight. He added that the cheif of the police was a friend of his. That's all I needed to know from the crafty Rattlesnake. Heh, that guy. He could be locked up in a case full of snakes, hidden underneath sand, snow, and tons of boulders and rocks, unable to move, breathe, or think and still he would be able to get out! I think that's the true reason why I ran him down. Damned his craftiness that's what. Well, I got it in the end, didn't I? At least we set those differences aside and now best friends with each other, including Dwayne.
Before I could utter a word, someone was yelling curses in the hallway of the hospital. Nurses and doctors urged and tried to force him back into his room but he wouldn't go down. Walking with a purpose to the waiting room - IV, heart monitor, and revieling hospital gown to show his backside-birthday suit to the world (occasional "Hubba Hubba" and whistlings here and there)-- our friend Dwayne walked up to us. Inside my mind, it was screaming to Dwayne to get back to his room and rest. But inside, I had to let go of this idea I had in my head that I had for such a long time ever since Dwayne was sent into the ambulance.
It must have been fate, because we all said the same words at the exact time.
"Guys, I've got it."
We looked at each other and we grew wide eyed.
And we smiled.
And we smirked.
And we knew the end was here.
For the NWO.
End Chapter One.