Day Two

Triple H woke the next morning to find a pair of bare feet resting on his forehead. He shoved Del Rio's legs to the side and sat up, grimacing as his sore muscles protested.

"Ricardo, my feet are cold, rub them some more, mmm? "Del Rio muttered in his sleep before turning over and settling back down.

O…K. Triple H did NOT want to know.

Most of the guys were already awake; Daniel Bryan and Del Rio were the only ones still asleep. He found Shawn and Sheamus working on repairing the shelter. The pale Irishman's skin was already beginning to redden in the morning sun.

"Morning Sunshine!" Shawn said as he held a corner post for Sheamus to tie off with a piece of vine.

Triple H gave him a nod and grunted as he walked by.

"Hunter's not much of a morning person. " He heard Shawn tell Sheamus, "Especially before his first cup of coffee."

In the light of the morning their little camp looked flimsy and pathetic. Besides their pile of wood and the makeshift shelter the only sign that it was a camp was the pile of Deli Rio's luggage, rescued from the waves. Triple H especially noticed how close it was to the high tide line. That would have to be changed. A storm, one good wave and they'd be washed out.

He found Kane and Dwayne at the fire pit, throwing more wood on the fire and stoking it up.

"Well, if it isn't our fearless leader! " Dwayne said cheerfully. "THE ROCK was wondering when you were going to rise and shine."

"What's going on? Where are the rest of the guys?" Triple H asked.

Dwayne poked at the fire with a stick. A knot of wood popped and sprayed tiny sparks on Kane's leg. The Big Red Machine flinched and then growled, glaring at Dwayne. Dwayne held up a hand, "Whoa, slow your roll Big Guy! THE ROCK didn't mean to do that." He carefully put the stick down and sat back, keeping a wary eye on Kane.

"John Cena took Ricardo to get more water for the camp. Oh, and THE ROCK saw Brock Lesnar go into the woods before dawn. He said he was going to try to set some traps to catch game. And CM Punk and Show are over yonder stuffing their faces with what's left of last night's dinner."

Triple H stood up and walked over to where Punk and Show sat on a couple of large logs they'd dragged from the woods. Show was gnawing on a large bone while Punk sat with his chin resting on his fist, watching Triple H.

"Good morning," Triple H said evenly.

Punk snorted,"You call this a good morning?" he asked, "I sure don't. I don't know about you but I don't consider waking up with Del Rio's feet in my face and sand in my ass crack a good morning."

With a mighty effort Triple H quashed the urge to pop Punk's head like a zit. He wasn't just a wrestler anymore. He was the Chief Operating Officer of WWE. He had to be diplomatic.

"Fair enough," he said. "So, I'm thinking that maybe when Cena and Lesnar get back, we should gather up the boys and discuss what we're going to do?"

"What we're going to do about what?" Punk asked.

"About this whole situation," Triple H said, "About what we're going to do to survive until we're rescued. We're going to need better shelter. We're going to need to ration food." He looked pointedly at Big Show.

Big Show saw his look, "What?" he said defensively, spraying little pieces of chewed meat from his mouth. "I'm hungry."

"Yeah, he's hungry," Punk repeated. "You expect him to starve?"

"Considering that we don't know where our next meal is coming from, I'm just saying maybe we should try to make what food we have last as long as we can." Triple H pointed out.

Punk waves his hand out toward the ocean, "No worries. The Vanilla Gorilla is taking care of that."

Triple H looked out at the waves. Far in the distance, he could see Brock Lesnar, standing on some kind of handmade raft, holding a slim spear over his head and peering intently into the water. "What is he doing?"

Punk shrugged,"Spear fishing. So stop your worrying, old man. We're probably going to get rescued today anyway. Do you think Vince is going to risk something happening to me, the WWE Champion?"

"Ricardo! Where are you? Answer me at once!"

Triple H and Punk both turned to see Alberto Del Rio stomping angrily toward them.

"Where is Ricardo?" He demanded.

"He went with Cena to get more water," Triple H said.

Del Rio exploded, "I did not give him permission to leave me! He is MY servant, NOT yours! How dare you send him away from me!"

"I didn't send him away anywhere!" Triple H protested, "And at least he's doing his part to help, unlike your lazy ass!"

Del Rio's face flushed in fury, "How dare you speak to me in this way you peasant!"

"Whoa! What's going on here?" Cena appeared carrying a yoke on which were suspended two large containers about 15 gallons each. He carefully shrugged the yoke off and pushed his way between Triple H and Del Rio.

"Look guys, we are all on the same team here." He said earnestly. He put and hand on Del Rio's chest, "Aristocrat," he looked at Triple H,"Peasant, none of that matters here. Let's rise above the hate. Work together."

Del Rio and Triple H continued to glare at each other when another figure struggled out of the woods. It was Ricardo. He was shirtless and carrying a five gallon jug. He dropped it next to the water Cena had brought and collapsed in exhaustion.

Del Rio pounced on his valet, kicking him,"You! Where have you been? When did I give you permission to leave me? Where is your uniform?"

Ricardo cowered and tried to cover his head "I'm sorry El Patron! Forgive me!"

"Oh no, no, no! THE ROCK cannot stand by and let you beat this man like a government mule!" Dwayne and Kane appeared. Dwayne got between Del Rio and his valet, "Treat this man with the dignity he deserves or THE ROCK will have to layeth the smacketh down on your candy ass!"

Del Rio was non-plussed, "I am treating him as he deserves. He is my servant. How do you treat servants in America?"

"Oh, yes, yes!" Ricardo crawled over to Del Rio and prostrated himself at his boss's feet,"Yes, El Patron is right. I am the vilest vermin that ever lived. He is right to punish me!" he looked up at Del Rio with worshipful eyes.

Del Rio looked at Dwayne, "See what I mean?"

Dwayne raised an eyebrow, "THE ROCK is beginning to remember why he left the WWE to do movies," he muttered, backing away from them.

Shawn Michaels and Sheamus wandered over drawn by the shouting. By this time Sheamus's pale skin had turned the angry red of a boiled lobster. It made Triple H cringe just to look at him.

"OK, Everybody! Can I have your attention?"Triple H said loudly, "We need to have a meeting of the minds here! We need to collaborate on what we're going to do about the situation we are in!"

Lesnar was walking back up the beach carrying a large string of about a dozen fish over his massive shoulder. In his other hand he had a homemade fishing spear. He had cut his jeans off below the knee and his bare chest and back were smeared with mud.

He handed the fish to Triple H.

"Gonna check my traps," he said shortly and disappeared into the trees before Triple H could tell him they were having a meeting.

"OK, I guess I'll fill you in on everything later," Triple H yelled after him. He turned to face the rest of the guys.

"So, the first thing I think we should do is send a couple of teams out to scout the island, see if we can get our bearings on where we are."

Shawn raised his hand, "Sheamus and I can do that. I'm a wilderness expert; we can scout around the far side of the island and tell you what's going on."

Triple H looked at his friend patiently, "You're a wilderness expert?"He asked," the same way you're an expert on making shelters from branches and vines?"

Shawn looked sheepish,"Uh, that wasn't my fault. That was a temporary shelter. It was not designed for 550 pound men to roll around in."

"Hey!" Big Show protested in a hurt voice, "I weigh just under 500 pounds now!"

Shawn ignored him and turned to Sheamus. "You up for it bud?"

Sheamus was gingerly touching his fiery red burnt forehead."Uh, sure, Shawn, I guess. Hey, Del Rio, ya got any lotion or such in those bags of yers?"

Del Rio looked down his nose at the Irishman, "So what if I do?" he snapped, "They are very expensive grooming products. Not for the likes of you! Go dig some lard out of the pig carcass and use that!"

"Ah, c'mon Del Rio, ya graidy bastard!" Sheamus said.

"No! Ricardo! Go and guard my bags!" Del Rio ordered.

"Yes, Boss!" Ricardo scrambled over to the pile of Del Rio's luggage.

Sheamus started to protest when Lesnar reappeared trudging down the beach. He was carrying a trough made out of a piece of bark. In addition to the mud on his torso, he now had it caked on his face. His pale blue eyes glared from his makeshift mud mask. Wordlessly, he handed the container to Sheamus who looked at it with a puzzled expression.

"What's this fer?" he asked.

Lesnar took it back from him, scooped out a handful of dark mud and slapped it on Sheamus's sunburned back. Sheamus's expression immediately changed to one of blissful relief.

"Ah, man, that's grand! Lesnar, I could kiss you!" he exclaimed.

"THE ROCK bets you could, "snickered Dwayne.

Lesnar's eye twitched and he slowly shook his head. He shoved the container back into Sheamus's hands with bit more force than necessary.

Sheamus turned to Dwayne, "Hey be a mate and put this on me back, will ya?"

Dwayne held up a hand, shaking his head, "No offense, my lobster looking friend, but THE ROCK doesn't ice another man's strudel! "

Sheamus wrinkled his brow. "What? What are ye going on about? Why can't ye just talk like a normal man? I can't understand 'alf of what yer saying!"

The Rock's eye brow shot up, "Listen you troll doll lookin', leprechaun talkin'-"

Triple H interrupted him before he could finish.

"Shawn, put that crap on Sheamus's back before he bursts into flames, will ya?" He snapped.

Shawn reluctantly took the container and began smearing the mud on Sheamus's back. The Celtic Warrior closed his eyes, "Ahhhhhhhh, ain't that a fine thing," he said happily.

Triple H hurriedly got back to business before the guys could get sidetracked again, "Anyway, I also think it would be a good idea to move our camp up to higher ground. We're pretty close to the tideline here and it would just be a whole lot safer. So, while Shawn and Sheamus are out scouting, the rest of us can start moving camp."

"Sounds like a great idea!" John Cena said, "I'll move our water and start moving the wood right away!" He jumped to his feet and started to stack the firewood together in neat piles.

Del Rio folded his arms, "Why must I take orders from you?" he demanded, "What if I decided I will make my own camps?"

"C'mon Del Rio," Triple H said gruffly, "Stop being an ass and try being useful. We need to work together if we're going to survive!"

Punk, who had been silent so far, finally spoke up. "So basically, when you say we need to work together, you really mean you're going to give out orders and the rest of us have to follow them?"

"Alberto Del Rio does not follow orders, he gives them!" Del Rio announced defiantly.

Punk stretched out lazily, "I'm not going anywhere." He announced, "You guys can kill yourselves trying to play Swiss Family Robinson while I wait here. I'll even take a nap while you guys are hauling shit back up the island. We don't know what's in those woods and for all we know, we'll be rescued by tonight!"

"Do you really think so?" Big Show asked hopefully.

"Yeah, sure, and even if it's not tonight, it'll be soon!" Punk affirmed, "So, I think instead of jumping every time our intrepid leader here says 'frog', we'd be better off conserving our energy. Besides, the beach is a much better place to keep a lookout for any rescue ships!"

Big Show nodded in agreement, "Yeah, you're right!" he said. "Besides, there might be wild animals in those woods!"

Triple H was so frustrated he wanted to rip his hair out, "Damn it! You guys are idiots! Lesnar! What do YOU think?" he appealed to the silent and stoic Viking who was busy cleaning the fish he had caught.

Lesnar looked at him, his face deceptively calm but his eyes blazing pale fire, "Do you think you can get me off of this island and back to my family?" he asked quietly.

Triple H, hesitated a second, then nodded, "Uh, yes."

Lesnar pinned him with his unblinking stare, "Then I'll do my part as long as you do yours. But so help me God, Helmsly," he pointed a thick finger at Triple H's chest, "if you fail me…" he trailed off, suddenly grabbing his knife. Before Triple H could react, Lesnar threw the knife at him. It whizzed past his head and thunked into the trunk of the tree behind him. Triple H turned, staring wide eyed at the quivering hilt and the blade that had buried itself in the head of a large green snake, pinning it to the tree.

Lesnar strode past him and yanked the knife free. The dying snake fell to the ground with a slow twist and writhe. Lesnar looked Triple H in the eyes, "You should be more careful watching your back. "he said, "you never know what might be sneaking up behind you…"

Lesnar picked up the fish and thrust them into Kane's hands. "Cook these," he said before walking off into the woods again.

Triple H looked around at the remaining men, feeling like the wind had been taken out of his sails. Punk was smirking at him, "Better not make promises to Lesnar you can't keep," he remarked.

"Shut up, Punk," Triple H said rudely, "Enough of this crap, who's gonna help me and who's gonna sit around on their ass?"

In the end, Dwayne, Cena and Daniel Bryan elected to help while Shawn and Sheamus went to scout the island. Del Rio was busy ordering Ricardo to shore up the shelter while Kane and Big Show roasted the fish Lesnar had caught. Punk moved over to the shade of a large palm tree and appeared to fall asleep.

When the fish was done everyone took a quick break to eat. Triple H casually approached Kane, "You didn't say much during the meeting," he said, "What are you going to do?"

Kane stared at him with his mismatched eyes. As always, Triple H felt a little creepy chill run up his spine.

Finally, the Devil's Favorite Demon spoke, "I think I'll stay here."

Triple H didn't understand it. Kane did not get along with Punk and he was sure Del Rio wasn't one of his best friends either, "Why?" he demanded.

Kane glanced toward the woods and a barely suppressed shudder seemed to run through his huge frame, "I…don't like the woods, they're too…dark at night." He turned his eyes back to Triple H and glared, as if daring him to make fun of him.

Triple H just nodded and slowly backed away. Imagine, Kane, afraid of the dark!

It took them only about an hour to move half of the water and wood to a clearing well into the trees. There was a thick stand that served as a natural windbreak. Lesnar reappeared with an armful of long poles cut from saplings and began lashing them together to construct a shelter that looked far more sturdy than Shawn's.

Dwayne and Cena went over to help, "I got a merit badge for building a wigwam when I was in the Scouts," Cena told Lesnar, who merely grunted in reply and showed them how to lash the poles together.

He then picked up his handmade bow and arrows and headed off to hunt something.