Merry Christmas! WOO!
By the Angel
*
Vince McMahon was not in the Christmas spirit. Stone Cold Steve Austin, his enemy, was a fan favorite, and his right hand man, Booker T was not well. However, the Big Boss Man's return did put a satisfied smirk on his face.
"I hate Christmas," He muttered. "Ah…Humbug." He wrapped his wool scarf around his neck and attempted to leave the arena, but was met by the last person he wanted to see.
"Whatcha doing, Vince? WOO!"
Vince's left eye twitch. "On my way home to a nice warm house for Christmas…And trying to get away from you. …Woo…"
Ric Flair grinned. "Well, I was just about to do that, too. Why don't we walk out together?" Vince blinked. "Do we have to?" Ric put a tight arm around Vince's neck. "Yep."
Trying to make small talk, Vince opened the exit doors and…A pile of snow came rushing in. "Oh yeah," Ric said, scratching his chin, "it's a blizzard out there. We're snowed in."
"W-Which arm tingles when you're about to get a heart attack?" Vince stuttered.
"Uh…The left? WOO!" Ric said. "Hey, Vince, lighten up. Think of the possibilities. We're snowed in! In an arena, no less. We can do whatever we want! WOO!"
Vince took his gloved hands and sobbed into them. "Hey, Vinny," Ric said, trying to sound caring, "being snowed in with you in an arena is not the first thing on my 'fun Christmas' list, either."
"Well, you're just going to have to deal with it," Vince said through clenched teeth.
"Exactly! Follow your own advice." Ric said merrily.
Let's see, Vince thought, shove eggnog down his throat now, or…Shove eggnog down his throat later…
Vince sighed and slid into the ring. He wanted to stay as far away as possible from Ric, who was now sitting in one of the seats. "Let's talk business, Vince," Ric said, now bouncing up and down on the chair.
"…Not right now…" Vince said.
Ric nodded. "Okay, Vince. I respect that." He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. "It's being too look a lot like Christmas, WOO! Everywhere you go…" Ric sang.
Vince massaged his head, wondering what the heck he did to deserve this.
"Come on, Vince, you old grouch. Get into the spirit Christmas!" Ric said.
So what? Vince thought. I'll be an old grouch. I'll be the Scourge. Or the Grinch. Old traditions, them people are. People like them. There are stories about them! I just want to go home…
"Uh…When do you think the blizzard will clear up?" Vince asked, wanting to kick himself for starting a conversation with Flair.
"Don't know. These things usually last two to three days."
"DAYS?"
"Vince, it's a blizzard."
"Well," Vince snapped, "you're no meteorologist."
"Don't be too sure, Vince," Ric said, "I am a man of many talents. WOO!"
Relax Vince, he said calmly, it's not going to be that long…
Ric stood up and stretched his legs. "Well, that was interesting. WOO! What time, WOO! Is it?"
Vince took a peek at his watch, but found that it was dead. He tapped it repeatedly. "My watch is dead," He mumbled.
"We're stuck…TOGETHER, and we don't know what time it is," Vince sighed. "Can this day get any worse?"
"Lighten up, Vince. WOO!"
"Stop saying that!"
A light, fainted ring came out of nowhere. "My cell phone," Vince breathed, "MY CELL PHONE! Why didn't I think of this before? I'm saved! I'm saved, I'm saved, I'm saved…I'M SAVED!" Vince giggled giddily.
Ric blinked. "Why don't you just answer the phone?"
"Right! Good thinking, Buddy!" Vince giggled like a madman.
"Hello?"
"Dad? Where the hell are you?" Shane asked.
"SHANE!" Vince screamed happily. "Thank god you're here! I am stuck in an arena with Ric! We're snowed in! You got to come save us!"
"Sorry, Dad," Shane said, stifling his laughter, "but the news reports says no one can go out. There's three feet of snow out there. You're stuck."
Vince hung up the phone, all his color drained from his face. "…I am stuck…" He whispered. He glanced at Ric.
"Woo."
