Dedication: To Stephanie, aka Sassy Lil Scorpio. For being such a sweetie about my fics, and well…she asked for this!
The Rock's New Clothes
Once upon a time, many years ago there lived a wrestler named The Rock who loved wearing beautiful new clothes so much that he spent all of his money on being finely dressed. His only interest was in going to the theatre to catch his latest movie, or in riding about in his glass limousine where he could show off his new clothes to the common jabronis. He loved wearing beautiful clothes so much that he had a different set of clothes for every hour of the day. Indeed, when it was said of other wrestlers that they were in the ring, it could only be said of The Rock that he was still in his dressing room!
One day, two brothers named Edge and Christian came to The Rock's arena. They said that they were weavers, and that weavers totally rule! Edge and Christian claimed that they knew how to make the finest cloth imaginable. Not only were the colours and the patterns were of great magnitutions but also in addition, this material had the most amazing B-R-Utality because it was to be invisible to anyone who sucked, or was just so totally stupid, and was stinktatude-able.
'It would be wonderful for The Rock to have clothes made from that cloth,' thought The Rock. 'Then The Rock would know which of The Rock's millions and millions of fans are unfit for their positions, and The Rock would also be able to tell the clever marks from the stupid ones.' So The Rock immediately gave Edge and Christian a great sum of money to weave their cloth for him.
Edge and Christian then set up their looms and pretended to go to work, although there was nothing at all on the looms. They asked for the finest silk and the purest gold, all of which they hid away, continuing to work on the empty looms, often late into the night. All this was done amidst unaccountable high-fives, which they claimed so helped in the working process.
'The Rock would really like to know how those two numbskulls are coming along with the cloth!' thought The Rock, but he was a bit uneasy when he recalled that anyone who was unfit for his position or so totally stupid would not be able to see the material. Of course, The Rock being The Great One had nothing to fear, but still The Rock decided to send someone else to see how the work was progressing.
'The Rock will send his honest old tag team partner to Edge and Christian,' thought The Rock. 'Mick Foley is the best one to see how the material is coming along. He and his sock are very sensible, and no one is more worthy of his position than the sock.'
So good old Mick Foley was sent into the hall where Edge and Christian sat working at their empty looms. 'Goodness!' thought Mick Foley, opening his eyes wide. 'I cannot see a thing!' But he did not say so. After all, The Rock so deserved what he had coming to him for having thrown his – Mick Foley's – bestseller in the bin! Yeah, so there!
Oh…didn't they find out later it was jealous Al Snow? But Mick Foley just grinned, because he was a practical joker, and boy, people would so want to see the People's Strudel.
So, Edge and Christian invited Mick Foley to step closer, asking him if it wasn't a design of super fantasticity, and if the colours weren't of absolute outstandingness. They pointed to the empty loom, and good ol' Mick Foley opened his eyes wider and wider. He still could see nothing, for nothing was there.
'Gracious,' Mick Foley thought. 'Is it possible that I am stupid? Of course not! Is my sock unfit for it's position? No! No one must know this. No, it will never do for me to say that I was unable to see the material. Rock and Sock will live forever!'
'Dude, you are so not saying anything!' said Christian.
'Yeah, dude! What's with that?' Edge demanded.
'Oh, it is magnificent! The very best!' declared Mick Foley, trying his hardest not to laugh. 'This pattern and these colours! Yes, I'll tell The Rock that I am very satisfied with it!'
'That so makes us feel like surfing on cloud nine!' crowed Edge and Christian. They then called out the colours and the unusual pattern by ridiculous names and Mick Foley listened closely so that he would be able say the same things when he reported back to The Rock, which is exactly what he did.
Edge and Christian continued to ask for more money, more silk, and more gold, all of which they hid away. That was for having lost all that money to the so not cool Hardlyz during the Terri Invitational! They then continued to weave away as before on the empty looms.
The Rock sent other officials as well to observe Edge and Christian's progress. They too were startled when they saw nothing, but they too reported back to him how wonderful the material was, advising him to have it made into clothes that he could wear in a grand procession. The entire locker room area was alive in praise of the cloth. 'Magnifique! Exceptional! Excellent! Main eventer!' they all said. Of course, Mick Foley had made sure to get everyone clued in onto his little prank.
The Rock then awarded Edge and Christian with medals of honour – DOUBLE GOLD! – bestowing on each of them the title of Fightingest Lord Weavers. The Rock also promised them several successful title reigns as WWF Tag Team Champions.
Edge and Christian stayed up the entire night before the day of the pay-per-view was to take place, burning more than sixteen candles. Everyone could see that they were in a great rush to finish The Rock's new clothes. They pretended to take the material from the looms. They cut in the air with large scissors. They sewed with needles but without any thread.
Finally they announced, 'Behold! The clothes are so finally finished!'
The Rock came to them with his most distinguished cavaliers. Edge and Christian raised their arms as though they were holding something and said, 'Just look at these totally rad sweats! Here is the jacket of that just reeks of awesomeness!' and so forth. 'They are as light as feathers! You might think that you didn't have a thing on, but that is so the cool thing about them. Feathers rule! Yeah, they do!'
'Yes,' said the cavaliers, but they couldn't see a thing, for nothing was there. Well, duh!
'Would his imperial pain-in-the-ass, if it please his humungous grace, kindly remove his clothes,' instructed Edge and Christian. 'Then we will fit you with the new ones, here in front of the large mirror. Ooh! Mirror! Let us check out our fantastic hair and fantastic smiles first!'
The Rock took off all his clothes, and Edge and Christian pretended to dress him, piece by piece, with the new ones that were to be fitted. The Rock was totally not in the know, having been fitted with big, crazy-ass sunglasses. Edge and Christian took hold of his waist and pretended to tie something about him. It was the train. Then The Rock turned and looked into the mirror.
'Goodness, they suit you well! What a wonderful fit!' everyone agreed. 'What a pattern! What colours! Such luxurious clothes!'
'The canopy to be carried above your Rockiness awaits outside,' said the grandmaster of ceremonies, Scottie 2 Hottie (since Grandmaster Sexay himself wasn't around).
'Yes, you candyass, The Rock ready!' said the Rock. He turned once again toward the mirror, because it had to appear as though he were admiring himself in all his glory.
The chamberlains who were to carry the train held their hands just above the floor as if they were picking up the train. As they walked they pretended to hold the train high, for they could not let anyone notice that they could see nothing.
The Rock walked beneath the beautiful canopy in the procession, and all the people in the arena said, 'Goodness, The Rock's new clothes are incomparable! What a beautiful train on his jacket. What a perfect fit!' No one wanted it to be noticed that he could see nothing, for then it would be said that he was unfit for his position or that he was just so stupid. None of The Rock's clothes had ever before received such praise.
'But he doesn't have anything on!' said a woman in the audience, her eyes growing wide as she focused on the People's Strudel.
'Goodness, let us hear the voice of a beautiful woman!' said the man beside sitting beside her, his eyes focused on…the area just beneath her neck, and whispered to another what the woman had said.
'A beautiful woman said that he doesn't have anything on!'
Finally everyone was saying, 'He doesn't have anything on!'
The Rock shuddered, for he knew that they were right, but he thought, 'The procession must go on, for The Rock is the People's Champion!' He carried himself even more proudly, and the chamberlains walked along behind carrying the train that wasn't there.
And giggling uncontrollably.