A story that myself and my delightful sis Kase made up together one boring night. Enjoy!!!
Rating R because of language, mostly among other things.....
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone from WWF, or the screenplay from The Wizard of Oz. Those all belong to someone else, so don't sue me, k? It won't be worth the cost of lawyers for the amount of money I have.
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It had been a long day for the three of us, in Kansas City, between in-store appearances, magazine shoots and of course a SmackDown taping, we didn't have time to breathe. To make matters worse Matt and Jeff had been bitching at each other all day and I had been thrown in-between them. 'Lita, what's your opinion on this?' Matt would ask. 'Lita, what's your opinion on that?' Jeff would ask. After eight hours of it, I was happy to be thrown in a ring and get my ass kicked, just to have a rest from their bitching.
When I arrived at the hotel that night, I practically dove onto my bed. I can't even remember pulling back the sheets, all I can remember is drifting into this deep sleep and feeling more relaxed than I had felt all day. I don't normally dream, which is a pity, cause there are plenty of things I would love to dream of. A holiday in the Caribbean, a swim in the ocean, a nice cool Pina Colada.
I dreamt that night. And now that I think back on my dream, I wish more than anything that I had had a few Pina Coladas before falling asleep cause then I could blame the oddness of my dream on the alcohol. The first thing I can remember about the dream is me, sitting on a bed, holding a little dog, in a house than is mid-air in the funnel of a tornado. Oh yeah, and everything is black and white.
I rubbed my eyes. What the hell was going on? This was like a bad fifties horror, or something. Worse. It was happening to me.
"Heheheeeeheheheeeee!!!!" Okay, now what the flying fuck was that? Turning around, I see, well, Trish Stratus flying by the window on a broomstick. How ironic. In both senses. I watch out the window for awhile, and make note of the things that fly on by. An apple tree, a bicycle, a picnic basket, a blow-up doll??!!!! Dean Malenko must be around. Alright, so now what do I do? But before I process anymore information, the house crashes into the ground, and I fall on my ass. Great. My brand-new, $200 red leather pants are ruined. Someone is gonna have a black eye when I come to.
A few minutes later, I pick myself up off the ground, wipe off my pants, and lean over to inspect the damage. The back was partially ripped, exposing my thong. Oh well, nothing people haven't seen before anyway. Crap. I was holding a dog before, where did it go?
I forget about the little mutt, trying to make myself presentable. Jeez, I think a sparrow has nested in my hair.
Oddly, looking out the window, everything is in colour. But inside the house everything is still black and white. Great, who slipped something into my drink?? Take a stab, Lita, open the door.
I step out of the house, ooh the ground is yellow. This is the most retro place I have been. I am waiting for the corny 70's disco group to jump out from behind a tree and start singing.
What the hell am I wearing?? Where did my red leather pants go?? This nice little blue and white dress, just isn't me. Oh there's the dog in a basket I am holding. Thank God I am not looking at a mirror now, I would definitely freak out. Thank God Matt and Jeff aren't here, they would enjoy picking on me about this dress.
And did the dawn of time just recently loom over RetroLand?? Where is everyone?
Damn. I wish Jeff was here. He would love the multi-colouredness of this place. He could even get some new hair ideas. Alright. Now I'm pissed. Where the hell am I? I look around and see something underneath the foundation of the little house. Blonde hair and feet. "Damn. Look at that, I deflated Terri." Oh well, she needed an excuse to go back to the surgeon, anyway.
Suddenly, a tiny noise arouses from out of no where. Like a child's whisper. Damn, there it was again. Now what the hell is going on? I feel something tapping on my shoulder. Upon looking at it, I see a sparkly star. Did I fly into toothfairy land? I turn around to see Linda McMahon, dressed in a god-awful poofy thing that wouldn't be fit for a bridesmaid, waving the sparkly stick around. I spent a good five minutes staring at her, trying to decide whether or not she was drunk. "Linda? What's going on?" I ask cautiously.
"Linda? Whose Linda? MY name is Glinda, the good witch of the north. It's alright munchkins, you can come out now. The wicked witch is dead."
The Wicked Witch? Yeah, okay, you can call Terri that if you want to. Myself, I would call Trish that, or something worse. Anyway.
Oh little people. Molly? Faaroq? Bradshaw? Oh good lord, where am I? Now I wish Matt and Jeff were here, they aren't going to believe this when I tell them.
And whats with the song?? These are some wacky drugs. Yes, I am convinced I am high. No sane, normal person would dream this. Is it a dream? Oh gee, this could be my real life. Great. Lita: pro wrestler by night, queen of the munchkins by night.
Help me.
I turn to the crazy Linda. She smiles and simply says "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?" Oh No. That little gutter-snipe hosebeast did not just call me a bitch.
"Ex-cuse me?!!!"
"Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?" Okay, she's asking me if I'm a witch. Weird.
"Neither, actually. I'm with the WWF. A wrestler. I guess some people might think I'm magic, that I can fly and shit, but that's all highly complicated acrobatics which require immense training and ability." Glinda/Linda looked VERY confused. Dammit.
"So.... you're not a witch?" She asked slowly. Oh good, now she's catching on.
"No. But I would like to know how Terri got under this nice house."
"That's the wicked witch of the east. What the munchkins want to know is, are you a good witch or a bad witch?"
"Didn't we already go through this? I AM NOT A WITCH."
Linda/Glinda sighed. "Fine. Either way, the munchkins are happy because you rid them of the wicked witch." She must mean Terri. Ah, well, she was a nucence anyway. I shift uncomfortably. Last time I had this many small people staring at me was when Al's midgets got a stool in order to be face to face with my chest.
Molly and Spike Dudley approach me, with flowers in their hands, and smiles on their faces. Jeez, was everyone in this retro world drunk? Spike spoke first: "As Mayor of the Munchkin City, in the County of the Land of Oz, I welcome you most regally..." Molly soon countered that.
"But we've got to verify it legally...To see..."
"To see?"
"If she..."
"If she?"
"Is morally, ethic'ly,"
"Spiritually, physically"
"Positively, absolutely..."
"Undeniably and reliably dead!" They said together.
Oh...dear....god.
Well if they aren't drunk, I certainly am.
Two little munchkins, hang on, Bubba and D-Von Dudley are walking towards me, holding lollipops. Yeah guys, that's really gonna mesh well with your tough guy exterior. 'We represent the lollipop guild, the lollipop guild,' the brothers begin singing. Note to self: make appointment with shrink.
This is the most surreal experience I have ever had. My mother was always worried about me when I announced to her I wanted to become a wrestler, I just presumed she was talking about injuries, not bizarre dreams.
Has Linda been sucking helium?
Alright, so I've established that I'm either drunk, insane, or quite possibly both. Now what? I suddenly hear a very loud cackling behind me. Oh dear god, what now? I turn around and come face-to-face with Trish Stratus. This can't be happening. The munchkins seem quite afraid of her though. Interesting. The Dudley munchkins start grabbing the back of my dress in an attempt to hide from Trish. Gross. Now I'm gonna smell like Dudley drool for the rest of the night.
"Who killed my sister? Who killed my sister???? Answer me!!!!!" Trish screeched so loudly I had to cover my ears. Sisters? Since when? Last I checked, they were pulling out each others bleach blonde hair. Now they're sisters? Whatever.
"I guess that would be me, in that case." I was curious to see her reaction. When Trish gets mad, her face turns all red and blotchy, so this would be quite amusing. My eyes caught the flat Terri's legs. Damn, those were nice boots. Real leather? Quite possibly. I wonder where she got those......
"No matter. That means I get her boots. Now where are they?" Damn. Trish was gonna steal the boots? She was certainly sucking the fun out of this. I looked back over at the boots, but they were gone. Weird. "They're gone!!! You stole them, didn't you Glinda? Give them back to me or I'll...."
"Or you'll what? I'm afraid they're out of your reach now. They're right where they belong." And with that Linda/Glinda pointed to my feet. Who the hell put Terri's boots on my feet? Ew. And they probably smell.
"Give them back to me!!!!" She spat in a once again screechy voice.
"Dude, you're spitting on me!!!" I was getting fed up. "Take the damn boots, I don't want them!!!" I reached over to take them off, but they wouldn't budge.
"It's no use. They're magic boots. Apparently very powerful, or she wouldn't want them so badly. Keep a good hold on those boots!!!"
Magic boots? You've got to be kidding me. I have a feeling that I'm not in Kansas City anymore.
Rating R because of language, mostly among other things.....
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone from WWF, or the screenplay from The Wizard of Oz. Those all belong to someone else, so don't sue me, k? It won't be worth the cost of lawyers for the amount of money I have.
***********************************************************************
It had been a long day for the three of us, in Kansas City, between in-store appearances, magazine shoots and of course a SmackDown taping, we didn't have time to breathe. To make matters worse Matt and Jeff had been bitching at each other all day and I had been thrown in-between them. 'Lita, what's your opinion on this?' Matt would ask. 'Lita, what's your opinion on that?' Jeff would ask. After eight hours of it, I was happy to be thrown in a ring and get my ass kicked, just to have a rest from their bitching.
When I arrived at the hotel that night, I practically dove onto my bed. I can't even remember pulling back the sheets, all I can remember is drifting into this deep sleep and feeling more relaxed than I had felt all day. I don't normally dream, which is a pity, cause there are plenty of things I would love to dream of. A holiday in the Caribbean, a swim in the ocean, a nice cool Pina Colada.
I dreamt that night. And now that I think back on my dream, I wish more than anything that I had had a few Pina Coladas before falling asleep cause then I could blame the oddness of my dream on the alcohol. The first thing I can remember about the dream is me, sitting on a bed, holding a little dog, in a house than is mid-air in the funnel of a tornado. Oh yeah, and everything is black and white.
I rubbed my eyes. What the hell was going on? This was like a bad fifties horror, or something. Worse. It was happening to me.
"Heheheeeeheheheeeee!!!!" Okay, now what the flying fuck was that? Turning around, I see, well, Trish Stratus flying by the window on a broomstick. How ironic. In both senses. I watch out the window for awhile, and make note of the things that fly on by. An apple tree, a bicycle, a picnic basket, a blow-up doll??!!!! Dean Malenko must be around. Alright, so now what do I do? But before I process anymore information, the house crashes into the ground, and I fall on my ass. Great. My brand-new, $200 red leather pants are ruined. Someone is gonna have a black eye when I come to.
A few minutes later, I pick myself up off the ground, wipe off my pants, and lean over to inspect the damage. The back was partially ripped, exposing my thong. Oh well, nothing people haven't seen before anyway. Crap. I was holding a dog before, where did it go?
I forget about the little mutt, trying to make myself presentable. Jeez, I think a sparrow has nested in my hair.
Oddly, looking out the window, everything is in colour. But inside the house everything is still black and white. Great, who slipped something into my drink?? Take a stab, Lita, open the door.
I step out of the house, ooh the ground is yellow. This is the most retro place I have been. I am waiting for the corny 70's disco group to jump out from behind a tree and start singing.
What the hell am I wearing?? Where did my red leather pants go?? This nice little blue and white dress, just isn't me. Oh there's the dog in a basket I am holding. Thank God I am not looking at a mirror now, I would definitely freak out. Thank God Matt and Jeff aren't here, they would enjoy picking on me about this dress.
And did the dawn of time just recently loom over RetroLand?? Where is everyone?
Damn. I wish Jeff was here. He would love the multi-colouredness of this place. He could even get some new hair ideas. Alright. Now I'm pissed. Where the hell am I? I look around and see something underneath the foundation of the little house. Blonde hair and feet. "Damn. Look at that, I deflated Terri." Oh well, she needed an excuse to go back to the surgeon, anyway.
Suddenly, a tiny noise arouses from out of no where. Like a child's whisper. Damn, there it was again. Now what the hell is going on? I feel something tapping on my shoulder. Upon looking at it, I see a sparkly star. Did I fly into toothfairy land? I turn around to see Linda McMahon, dressed in a god-awful poofy thing that wouldn't be fit for a bridesmaid, waving the sparkly stick around. I spent a good five minutes staring at her, trying to decide whether or not she was drunk. "Linda? What's going on?" I ask cautiously.
"Linda? Whose Linda? MY name is Glinda, the good witch of the north. It's alright munchkins, you can come out now. The wicked witch is dead."
The Wicked Witch? Yeah, okay, you can call Terri that if you want to. Myself, I would call Trish that, or something worse. Anyway.
Oh little people. Molly? Faaroq? Bradshaw? Oh good lord, where am I? Now I wish Matt and Jeff were here, they aren't going to believe this when I tell them.
And whats with the song?? These are some wacky drugs. Yes, I am convinced I am high. No sane, normal person would dream this. Is it a dream? Oh gee, this could be my real life. Great. Lita: pro wrestler by night, queen of the munchkins by night.
Help me.
I turn to the crazy Linda. She smiles and simply says "Are you a good witch or a bad witch?" Oh No. That little gutter-snipe hosebeast did not just call me a bitch.
"Ex-cuse me?!!!"
"Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?" Okay, she's asking me if I'm a witch. Weird.
"Neither, actually. I'm with the WWF. A wrestler. I guess some people might think I'm magic, that I can fly and shit, but that's all highly complicated acrobatics which require immense training and ability." Glinda/Linda looked VERY confused. Dammit.
"So.... you're not a witch?" She asked slowly. Oh good, now she's catching on.
"No. But I would like to know how Terri got under this nice house."
"That's the wicked witch of the east. What the munchkins want to know is, are you a good witch or a bad witch?"
"Didn't we already go through this? I AM NOT A WITCH."
Linda/Glinda sighed. "Fine. Either way, the munchkins are happy because you rid them of the wicked witch." She must mean Terri. Ah, well, she was a nucence anyway. I shift uncomfortably. Last time I had this many small people staring at me was when Al's midgets got a stool in order to be face to face with my chest.
Molly and Spike Dudley approach me, with flowers in their hands, and smiles on their faces. Jeez, was everyone in this retro world drunk? Spike spoke first: "As Mayor of the Munchkin City, in the County of the Land of Oz, I welcome you most regally..." Molly soon countered that.
"But we've got to verify it legally...To see..."
"To see?"
"If she..."
"If she?"
"Is morally, ethic'ly,"
"Spiritually, physically"
"Positively, absolutely..."
"Undeniably and reliably dead!" They said together.
Oh...dear....god.
Well if they aren't drunk, I certainly am.
Two little munchkins, hang on, Bubba and D-Von Dudley are walking towards me, holding lollipops. Yeah guys, that's really gonna mesh well with your tough guy exterior. 'We represent the lollipop guild, the lollipop guild,' the brothers begin singing. Note to self: make appointment with shrink.
This is the most surreal experience I have ever had. My mother was always worried about me when I announced to her I wanted to become a wrestler, I just presumed she was talking about injuries, not bizarre dreams.
Has Linda been sucking helium?
Alright, so I've established that I'm either drunk, insane, or quite possibly both. Now what? I suddenly hear a very loud cackling behind me. Oh dear god, what now? I turn around and come face-to-face with Trish Stratus. This can't be happening. The munchkins seem quite afraid of her though. Interesting. The Dudley munchkins start grabbing the back of my dress in an attempt to hide from Trish. Gross. Now I'm gonna smell like Dudley drool for the rest of the night.
"Who killed my sister? Who killed my sister???? Answer me!!!!!" Trish screeched so loudly I had to cover my ears. Sisters? Since when? Last I checked, they were pulling out each others bleach blonde hair. Now they're sisters? Whatever.
"I guess that would be me, in that case." I was curious to see her reaction. When Trish gets mad, her face turns all red and blotchy, so this would be quite amusing. My eyes caught the flat Terri's legs. Damn, those were nice boots. Real leather? Quite possibly. I wonder where she got those......
"No matter. That means I get her boots. Now where are they?" Damn. Trish was gonna steal the boots? She was certainly sucking the fun out of this. I looked back over at the boots, but they were gone. Weird. "They're gone!!! You stole them, didn't you Glinda? Give them back to me or I'll...."
"Or you'll what? I'm afraid they're out of your reach now. They're right where they belong." And with that Linda/Glinda pointed to my feet. Who the hell put Terri's boots on my feet? Ew. And they probably smell.
"Give them back to me!!!!" She spat in a once again screechy voice.
"Dude, you're spitting on me!!!" I was getting fed up. "Take the damn boots, I don't want them!!!" I reached over to take them off, but they wouldn't budge.
"It's no use. They're magic boots. Apparently very powerful, or she wouldn't want them so badly. Keep a good hold on those boots!!!"
Magic boots? You've got to be kidding me. I have a feeling that I'm not in Kansas City anymore.