It All Started With Conan O'Brien
Summary: Response to Chelli's challenge. Enjoy!
Rating: PG for language
A fairly normal day, in every universe that has ever existed, always goes strange in some way.
At least in all of the universes that the World Wrestling Federation exists in.
A fairly normal night, with normal matches between normal people, had vanished.
None other than WWF Chairman Vincent K. McMahon had replaced the fairly normal matches and fairly normal main event on this night. Indeed, Vince was quite pleased with this idea he had imagined one night while watching Conan O'Brien. (And eating a bag of Pringles potato chips… but does that really matter?) You see, Vince was just sitting in his king-size bed; alone, unshaven and beaten by his manipulative kids, still ever-nearing divorce from his wife Linda. He was lonely and depressed, so he turned on NBC.
He got even more depressed while watching Conan, and got even more depressed when he made a joke about the XFL. He flipped off the TV, angry at the snide remark, and said aloud, "Some people in this world deserve to be auctioned off."
After he said that, his eyes widened in shock. Not shock because he had said such a terrible rotten thing about poor Conan O'Brien, but because it had given him an idea.
He jumped out of bed, and fished around in his briefcase for his cell phone. He retrieved it, and dialed Jim Ross' home phone number.
It rang several times, and then a sleepy voice answered, "Gggggwhhhaaattt???"
"J.R.? Is that you?" Vince asked.
"Yes," he responded, sounding much clearer then he had before, "Vince, this is Vince McMahon, right? The only person that would call at an hour like this! What do you want? It's midnight in Oklahoma, and it's even later where you are!"
"You make matches, right J.R.?" Vince continued, ignoring J.R.'s obvious anger and sarcasm.
"You don't even know what your own employee does? And you call him at midnight? No Vince, I do not make matches. Commissioner Regal makes matches. You should really start attending more events!"
"That's right, Regal and that Tajiri thing. Well, pass this message along to Commissioner Regal: In two days on RAW, there will be a battle royal. Not a large battle royal, mind you, just a small battle royal. It will be between myself, Triple H –"
"Triple H? Triple H is injured, Vince!"
"--and Chris Jericho for the WWF side –"
"And how do you know Triple H will be on WWF contract? What if he joins the Alliance?"
"Versus Test, Booker T, and Rhyno from the Alliance side. And it will be for Stephanie. Thanks Jim; you're an all-star employee."
"For…Stephanie? Why would you want your own daughter, Vince?"
"I'll see you Monday morning." Vince said firmly.
"Vince!" J.R. shouted, but the other had already hung up.
_______________________
Which fast-forwards us to Monday morning, which is the fairly normal day that I mentioned beforehand.
Most wrestlers from both federations had just arrived at the building and didn't know what to expect that night, just as they didn't know what to expect any other night when they arrived.
However, the wrestlers may not have known it yet, but this night's show had the potential to be the best or worst in their lives.
In the Alliance headquarters, the members were doing what they did every other day – sitting around and boasting about being the number one company in sports entertainment today. (Which, in case you're interested, can be proven wrong very easily, by the simple fact that the World Wrestling Federation holds more titles within its ranks, six, then the Alliance does, four.)
Anyway, the Alliance members were happily in denial, when WCW owner Shane McMahon stepped into the room with his sister, and new silicon implant owner…er, I mean new ECW owner Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley. Right behind them was WWF champion Steve Austin, and when he stepped into the room, all of the locker room snapped up and to attention…mainly because they were afraid of him.
The one thing that scared the Alliance members more than Austin did was Stephanie's singing.
Stephanie looked scared, and she bit on her fingernails nervously as Shane began to speak.
"I'd like to call Rhyno, Test, and Booker T up here. We may have a problem."
Test, who was seated next to the Dudley Boyz, and Rhyno, who was seated next to nobody in particular, went to the front, but Booker T was nowhere to be found.
Shane sighed in exasperation. "Where the hell is Booker T? Anyone care to elaborate?"
Everyone looked around, as if he may have been hiding under a table or in the corner. Then, brilliantly, they all started shaking their heads and shrugging.
Shane threw up his arms. "If you see him, someone tell him that Shane –O Mac is looking for him."
"What's goin' on?" asked Tazz.
"Speak when you're spoken to." Austin snapped.
Shane shot Austin a glance, and said, "It's all right. If we lose the main event tonight, we may have a large problem on our hands."
"It's a battle royal," Shane continued, "And on the Alliance side it's Rhyno, Test, and Booker T. We don't know who is on the other side."
"Sounds like nothing to me," Test said, "we should have their asses in no time."
"You're wrong," Shane said bluntly, "because Vince set this up, and you know he always has something up his sleeve. And I know what it is. Whoever wins this battle royal gets Stephanie."
A gasp spread through the entire room, and Stacey Keibler fainted.
"What d'yah mean, the winner gets Stephanie?" Austin asked, seemingly disgusted. "You never told me this. Why am I always the last to know? What? Why am I always the last to –"
"Steve, just shut up. This is serious!" Stephanie cried. Austin hung his head in shame, and it could be heard around the room a little snort of glee from Tazz.
"Steph is right," Shane continued, "this is serious. I don't what it means to 'get' Stephanie, but that's what it says in the memo from Vince. It could be that if the WWF wins, they get the ECW, or it could mean for…marriage. I don't know."
Stephanie pulled up a chair from under Justin Credible, and he crashed to the floor. She ignored his moaning and crying, and sat in the chair, sobbing.
Shane patted his sister on the back, and Austin reached out and gave her a hug.
Shane walked away from Stephanie's side, and muttered, "What are we going to do?"
_______________________
The morning passed into afternoon, and the Alliance still hadn't formed a plan to triumph in the battle royal.
(Man, what a brilliant bunch of people. This author thinks that the Alliance should just do what they do in every main event – send out Austin or somebody to interfere in the outcome. It's what they do every night! Duh!)
They were sitting around, talking in soft whispers, trying to figure out ways to have the match completely stopped, when Justin Credible spoke up suddenly, "Hey! Why don't we just have Steve interfere at the very end!"
(Great. The stupidest of the lot figures it out.)
"Yeah! That's a great idea!" Austin yelled.
The locker room burst into wild cheering.
"Wait!" yelled Shane. The noise stopped. "We can't have anybody interfere or the other side wins right away!"
The locker room burst into wild booing.
"That sucks!" Justin yelled. "That's the best plan I've ever had in my life!"
_______________________
Later that night, after the afternoon had passed, night came, and several matches on RAW had already happened, it was time for the main event.
The WCW team came out first – Test and Rhyno. Booker T hadn't been seen all afternoon. Stephanie and Shane McMahon accompanied the less-than-stellar team to the ring. They waited nervously to see what the WWF had to offer.
Stephanie's mouth dropped in horror when she heard a familiar sound play – her father's music. He appeared from behind the titan-tron, wearing his wrestling gear. Shane's mouth dropped too. They dropped to the floor actually.
Stephanie's mouth quivered (it must have gotten up off of the floor or something) as Vince passed her by and threw her a devious look.
He didn't bother to talk; he must have decided to let the outcome of the match speak for itself.
Out of nowhere, Spike Dudley's music started to play. Shane laughed openly. "The WWF will never beat us with that shrimp on their team."
However, Spike was with his girlfriend Molly, and they didn't appear to be dressed for a wrestling match. They made their way down to the announcing table, where Paul Heyman sat alone. (J.R. didn't want to commentate on this match…um, I know lame explanation… but you'll see what he's up to later. Or maybe he just wanted to take the match off. Jeeez, let that guy alone! It's none of your business anyhow.)
"Well, well, well; if it isn't the little Romeo and Juliet!" Paul Heyman cackled in glee.
"Shut up Paul," Molly and Spike said in unison, "your commentating skills are quite lacking and they're annoying. Bring back Jerry Lawler, Vince!"
"Aww, isn't it sweet. They're talking together." Heyman continued.
"We're gonna overpower you Mr. Heyman." Molly said importantly.
"Whatever." He scoffed as he straightened his hat.
Meanwhile, Stephanie was perched on the ring apron, half-looking at the titan-tron to see who was coming next and half-shouting at her father, who was shouting back at her.
A countdown began on the screen that Stephanie knew so well.
"No…no…NO! It can't be him! I can't marry him!" Stephanie shouted.
"Yes…yes it IS!" Vince shouted. "Who says he'd marry you anyway?"
After his intro was finished, Jericho stepped out onto the stage, grinning like a homicidal maniac. (Or as he usually does when he knows something's gonna happen to insult Stephanie.)
He made his way down to ringside, waited on the ring apron with Vince, and made smoochy noises towards Stephanie.
Stephanie was crying loudly by this point, and Molly said, "Boy. I feel sorry for Steph."
"Even if she's a sl—"
"Spike!"
"Well, you've got to admit that it's true!"
"No! It's not right to say that about anybody…even Steph."
Paul Heyman looked angry.
"Time to play the gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaammme." The speakers blared. Stephanie turned from the ring in horror. It was Triple H!
She turned back to the ring and shouted, "What is Hunter doing here?"
"He's here to teach you a lesson!" Vince shouted.
"What does Vince McMahon know about morality?" grumbled Heyman.
Triple H made his way down to the ring dressed in his street clothes.
"This is just going to be a brawl," Spike observed.
"What are you doing at commentary anyway?" asked Heyman.
"Taking J.R.'s place," said Molly as if that was obvious.
"And this brawl is under way!" Spike said. "It's Rhyno and Jericho starting it off. Oooh, right hands from Jericho to Rhyno, and Rhyno throws Jericho into the corner. Hard right hands by Rhyno!"
"Jericho still seems a little disoriented from that concussion he got at Summerslam," Molly said, concerned.
"Yeah, he doesn't seem to be doing well," Spike agreed.
"Jericho tags Triple H, and Rhyno runs to the corner – quickly I might add – and tags Test in!" Molly shouted.
"Triple H looks as good as ever, hitting test with right hands and…ohhh, a pedigree!" Spike said.
"With Jericho having Rhyno distracted at ringside, it looks like Triple H has this match easily won…but he's not going for the pin! He's tagging in Mr. McMahon!" said Molly quietly, amazed.
"Vince has the pin!" Spike roared along with the crowd, jumping to his feet. "1…2…no! Test barely kicks out!"
"How did he do it?" asked Molly.
"I don't know, Molls, but Vince looks just as amazed as I feel," Spike said.
"I'll tell you how he did it," Paul Heyman snapped, "he did it because he's better than McMahon. He's better than the WWF!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah Heyman." Spike grumbled.
"Whatever," Molly agreed.
"Vince is kicking Test, but to no avail…he's getting back up…." Spike said vaguely.
"Look, Triple H has left the ring apron…he's coming over here!" began Molly.
"What the hell do you want?" Heyman demanded.
He passed by the table, and picked up the ring bell. He walked casually back to the apron, and when the referee's back was turned, nailed Test in the back of the head with it.
As this was happening, the crowd started to jeer. At first, the wrestlers inside of the ring weren't sure why…something good had just occurred.
"What in the blue hell is he doing?" Shane McMahon shouted. It was Booker T running down to ringside that had made the jeering from the crowd begin.
Booker T walked by Shane, as if oblivious that he was even standing there. He went directly to Stephanie, grabbed her by the hair, and kissed her.
Shane spluttered incoherently, not even able to get a sentence out. Stephanie was trying to push Booker away, but Booker wouldn't budge.
During all of the commotion that had the crowd's attention, Vince had scored a pin over Test, meaning that he had won Stephanie, not Booker T. But even Paul Heyman wasn't commenting on that. He was just wondering what his former-WCW champion was doing.
Booker was still making kissy-face with Stephanie wen Vince McMahon figured out what was going on. He watched in utter amazement as he kissed and Stephanie squirmed.
Finally, after what seemed like five minutes, Booker T let go of Stephanie. He walked to the announce table and grabbed a microphone.
He turned to Vince McMahon and Triple H, who were the only Team WWF members at ringside (Rhyno and Jericho were nowhere to be found) and grinned. "I got the girl, suckas!"
Vince raised an eyebrow, and grabbed the microphone right out of the ring announcer's hand. "Oh, really?" was all he said.
"Yeah." Booker nodded.
Stephanie was sitting on the steps, wiping her mouth off with her hands. Shane still had a look of horror on his face. Paul Heyman was still silent…not that anyone minded the lack of commentary on his part.
"I think not," Vince began, "because you may not have noticed, sucka, but Team WWF and Vince McMahon just won this match!"
"But…wasn't…the point…to get Stephanie?" Booker asked, obviously confused.
Shane shook himself out of his stupor; walked to where Booker T was standing, and exploded, "Are you a complete idiot or what, Booker T?"
Booker blinked. "No…I just read on the sheet…it was for Stephanie…so I came down here and…uh, got some of Stephanie!"
"Didn't you see, Booker, on that sheet that you were supposed to be in this match?" asked Shane.
Booker didn't seem to have a reply, so Vince interjected, "Well, the fact is that I – and the WWF – have won the match. Therefore, we won my daughter."
"You're sick!" Shane said. "How can you auction off your own daughter?"
"You're sick!" Vince mocked. "How can you turn your back on your own father and your heritage?"
"This is pointless," Shane said. "What do you want with her?"
"This isn't pointless, I assure you, this certainly has a point. The point is to strike a serious blow to the Alliance, by taking the ECW factor out of it completely!"
Booker T grumbled something, and walked away, bored.
Vince grinned slightly. "If you smelllllll…what the Vince…is cooking."
THE END