Stepping onto the bus, Shawn Michaels, Triple H and Kurt Angle looked at each other. None of them could believe how much of a dump the bus was; the seats that did have material covering the cold metal was torn and dirty. The floor was covered in litter, some looking like it had come from the 60's with the bus!

"Where shall we sit?" Shawn asked, searching for a less cluttered area of the bus.

"How about the back seats, then all three of us can sit together?" Kurt shrugged, the three buddy's treading over old cans of coke and sweet wrappers as they made their way to the end of the bus.

Much to their annoyance, all five back seats had already been occupied...by a sleeping Hulk Hogan!

"What the fuck?" Hunter muttered "He's only just gotten on the bus! How can he be asleep already?"

"You know what they say?" Carlito joined in, peering over the seat a couple of rows in front "The older you get, the easier it is to get tired!"

"He's more than old!" Orton chimed in "He's decrepit!"

"Who are you calling decrepit BROTHER!" Hulk Hogan awoke from his slumber.

"I think I liked him better when he was passed out!" Shawn commented, his personal feelings to the 'Immortal' one known world over.

"Has anyone got any Nightol?" Kurt called out rhetorically, bringing cheeky grins to everyone's faces.

"Anyway, Hulk get up, we wanna sit there!" Hunter demanded, gesturing the multi time World Champion to find another seat.

"WHATCHA GONNA DO, BROTHER, WHEN THE HULKSTER WON'T GET UP FOR YOU!" Hogan yelled, laying firmly across the seats.

"Ummm, this?" Shawn nodded to Kurt and Hunter.

The three men grabbed Hogan and threw him aggressively onto another seat!

"Dat...dat was cool!" Carlito smirked.

"OWWW MY HIP, BROTHER!" Hogan complained.

"Shut up you old BASTARD!" Ric shouted at the top of his voice, fumbling over the top seat to slap the Hucksters chest.

"Why don't you idiots both shut up!" Foley ordered, hugging his pay check from VH1 for the 'Hogan Knows Best' Series, guarding it with his life as if it was a small, new born baby.

"FUCK YOU FOLEY!" Ric raged, sweat tricking from every part of his body.

"Hey, how come that fat, wrestler wannabe got paid before me, the Legend Killer?" Randy questioned.

"Yeah, how come he got paid more than me, cool personified? Dat...dat's no cool!"

As the insane arguing continued, Vince could hear the commotion from outside. Power walking his way onto the bus, he was less than impressed of his employees...'At least one of them should be ripped open by now!' he sneered to himself.

"BY GOD SHUT UP!" he bellowed, the bus coming to a stand still. "Now, is everyone here yet!"

"Not everyone, the Mark isn't here." Hunter sarcastically spoke, cracking an insider joke.

"Oh yes, c'mon Mark, we need to go!" Vince called, rubbing his hands evilly together.

As all of the campers on the bus stared out of the window, awaiting the arrival of Mark Henry, they couldn't all believe that he would be staying with them!

"I'd hate to have to share a tent with him!" the young Orton chuckled.

All of a sudden, Mark tried to walk in the door...tried being the key word!

"Ummm, Sir?" Coachman peered through the opposite window in an anxious manner. "He's stuck!"

"What d'ya mean he's stuck dammit?" Vince's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"He's just...stuck!" Coach told uneasily.

"Mark, just get on the bus dammit!" Vince demanded, trying not to lose his cool too easily.

"I'm sorry Sir, I can't!"

"Coach, you push and I pull!" Vince ordered, tearing his jacket from his body.

"This should be good!" Kurt whispered to Shawn and Hunter, who were now more engrossed in their boss then they ever had been before.

After a few moments of trying, frustration was beginning to build..."Get - on - you - fat - bastard!" Vince urged angrily.

Stopping to catch a breath, both the Coach and Vince couldn't believe that their master plan might be foiled already. Panting heavily, Vince felt his blood boil deep inside of him.

"DAMMIT!" Vince cried, kicking Mark in the nuts.

"I'm so sorry." Henry sobbed, partly through pain and partly through anger with himself.

"This is all I need!" Vince mumbled, rubbing his chin for inspiration.

"Why don't we just get a bigger bus?" the Coach inquired.

"Coz dammit this was the cheapest one I could get!" Vince told aggressively.

- - - - - - - - - -

An hour and 15 bars of soap, 20 buckets of water, 17 bottles of baby oil and 14 pounds of lard later (note: that is NOT Mark Henry, just the butter!), Mark was removed from the bus door, a little worse for wear but at least he was free...for now!

"You've...you've ruined everything!" Vince stuttered, his lips curled and his eyes blazing. "And you're not going to get away with this...oh no, you're gonna pay for this!"

As Mr. McMahon's insane ramble continued, the rest of the bus erupted with laughter...

For the time being at least.

"What are you going to do now, sir?" The Coach questioned hastily, wiping the sweat from his defined, dark brow.

"Never you mind!" Vince whispered to him "Just get these...these, morons and degenerates out of my hair!" he sternly spoke, watching the bus leave the ground at about 10 miles an hour.

- - - - - - - - - -

As the bus drove away from the current sight, all of the campers were becoming restless and weary as the hours past. It was now over five hours since leaving the car park with no breaks of any sorts.

"Coach!" Randy called with all of his might from one of the back seats, Jonathan being unaware as the engine was being so loud.

"What's up, Randall?" his former mentor, Ric Flair questioned. Despite the men not being too close now a days, the sixteen time World Champion still had a soft spot for the younger man. It was as if he was his own child and he'd raised him. That was a bond you could never break.

"I'm hot!" the moaned, undoing his shirt by a few more buttons.

"Open the windows then!" Triple H replied dozily, himself feeling a little worse for wear as he was jogged up and down by the rickety road on the ill managed bus.

Standing to do as the Game had suggested, Randy was supported by the well managed hands of Carlito, who he had become rather good friends with over his and DX's past, ummm, misadventures.

"They...won't...go!" he grimaced, feeling the sweat droplets tumble from his smooth forehead. The sun was beating in the un-curtained windows, no shelter from the summer month of August.

"C'mon, a big strong boy like you should get them opened with no trouble!" the Hardcore Legend shouted in encouragement.

"Here, let me try!" Carlito interjected, heaving at the metal bars as he pushed his remaining energy to the limits. However, he had no such luck either.

Squinting at the panes of glass, Shawn made a discovery. "You dummies, they are painted shut!" he exclaimed "That's why you can't get them undone!"

Groaning in disbelief, both the Legend Killer and serial apple eater slumped back into their seats in despair.

"I'm...melting!" Carlito puffed.

"Dat wouldn't be cool, right?" Triple H mimicked, much to the annoyance of the impersonated one.

"I'm not gonna sit here like this for much longer!" Kurt piped up in exasperation.

"Wait, I have an idea!" Hunter began, as if a light bulb went off over his head. "We could just break the glass!"

"Isn't that vandalism?" the Heartbreak Kid interjected, lifting his tired head up only slightly.

"Oh, stop being a wet blanket!" Hunter urged, not in a malicious way, just in a joke. "Come on!"

But how will the Coach react?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

Will the glass be broken? Plus, will there be anymore misadventures before arriving at camp?

Check back for more, soon!