AN- Well........another chapter!!! I apologize a thousand times over for
the long wait. I lost all privelages (Is that spelled right?) to the
internet..so, I can only get on at school or when my mom lets me on here.
Plus, with Scott Hall leaving the WWE.....it was double depression. But,
after seeing my fans continue to write reviews....not giving up on
me.....well, that brought me out of my depression (It was before Hall
leaving...but still, it brought me out). Anyway, I'm back!!! Since about
99% are already reading the story....well, lets get to it, shall we?!
BOOYAKA!
AN2- Guess What?! Annoying AN's are back too!! Oh it's true, it's STILL true!!! If you've e-mailed me, and are wondering why I haven't replied back....I apologize again. I'm grounded from e-mail for a while. :( Anyway....even though Scott Hall left......he WILL LIVE in this STORY!!!! With that being said.....I doubt MY story will follow the WWF/E storyline from WX8...but, you all didn't want my story to be a clone of their storylines any old ways, kee-rect? *nervous* Well, I hopes so! So...(finally)...onto the story! And the last you have to read the word "story"! LOLOL!! *laughs crazily*
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While the camera was on the two "icons", Scott Hall and Kevin Nash raced down the rampway. Scott was the first to enter the ring while Nash climbed over the ropes on the right side. Hall glared at Hogan menacingly, which was joined by Nash's own sexy glare. Hogan, thinking they were after the Rock, shook his head no. He started to step through the ropes, but Hall tapped his shoulder, bring the exhausted Icon back in the ring. Hogan looked at him, confused.
Scott Hall then "branded" Hogan as an nWo enemy: He flung his toothpick at him, blinding the "Immortal One" for a brief second. A second was all they needed. Kevin shoved Hogan into the back ropes, and when Hogan bounced back, he was met by a hard punch from Kev.
At that moment, Rock ran back in the ring, wanting to help Hogan. He too was met with a punch from Big Daddy Cool. While the crowd booed wildly, Scott delivered a Razor's Edge to Rock, while Kevin delivered a Jacknife Powerbomb to Hogan.
As the nWo left the ring, they took one last look at the carnage they had left behind. Both Hogan and Rock were unconcious, with Hogan bleeding profusely from the forehead. While the camera was on the ring, Scott whispered to Kevin:
"Now....time to capture us a Dead Man."
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A certain blonde Canadian was oblivous to all of this. He was wearing black jeans (slightly, annoyingly, tight), his fishnet-type wrestling shirt, and black boots. Christian ran through the long, twisty hallways of the Sky Dome with a huge smile on his face. Occasionally, he would laugh and shout out: "I'M A WINNER!!!!"; much to the annoyance of the other WWF superstars.
His happiness soon faded, however, as he found himself.....lost. Christian looked around for a friendly face; one that would help him out. Well, he didn't find that. So, he'd go for the next best thing: a fellow Canadian!
"Hey, Test! Uh....can you show me the way to the parking lot?"
Silence from Test. Test, by the way, was working out. He sat on a stool, one hand lifting a weight, the other resting on his knee. He was wearing pleather black pants, heavy-looking boots, and a sleeveless black wife-beater shirt; why they called those shirts "wife-beaters", Christian was just confused about. Test just gave an evil glare to the younger Canadian and then turned back to lifting his weights. Christian knew he sounded dumb, but decided to ask again.
"Ahem. Just tell me if it's left or right....." A pause. "You may not like me, Test, but you can help a fellow Cana-"
"Ya know, you're the Hardcore Champion. If you want to *remain* the Champion, I'd suggest you leave me alone."
With the anger behind those words, and the heated glare he was receiving, Christian decided to follow his words. He started to walk quickly down the left hallway....but was stopped by Test's playful voice.
"Besides, kid, it's down this middle hallway, to the left, take a few more rights, and then you're there." Christian looked nervously at Test's mischevious smile.
"Uh....thanks." Christian replied, and then ran quickly down the hall by Test before the older Canadian changed his mind about taking the Championship.
Meanwhile.......
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A confused Scott Hall followed his nWo partner back to the lockerroom.
"Uh...Kev? Shouldn't we be looking for the Undertaker?"
"No need. I already know--DAMN! Where the keys to the room?" Kev exclaimed, digging through his pockets.
"Oh, right here." Scott replied, handing him the keys. Kev said 'thanks' and then opened the door to the lockerroom. Scott plopped down on the sofa, while Kev dug through his luggage bag.
"So....you were saying?"
"Well, according to a sell-out, Christian just called a cab after...." Nash looked pointedly at Scott, "winning the Hardcore title." Scott put on his best innocent-looking smile....knowing his partner could see right through it.
"I wonder how he got that, Kev." Kev rolled his eyes, and then turned his attention back to his bag. Scott continued, dropping the smile, "So....who's the sell-out?"
"Who else? Chris Jericho. That little weasel is willing to do anything, squeal on anybody, to retain the title." Scott laughed.
"The bastard. He hasn't realized yet that the only reason we helped him at No Way Out is because of orders from Vinny Mac. The little prick should know: nWo only look after nWo; noone else."
"Exactly."
"Well....what's the plan?" Scott asked impatiently. Kev sat down at a nearby chair, bag still in hand, as he continued casually.
"Wherever the pretty boy goes, the Dead Man goes. Thus, we follow Christian."
"Okay, I'm clear on that. But, what's in the bag that is so important?"
Kev smiled. Scott's confusion disappeared as his eyes widened in surprise. Kev, however, appeared oblivious to the sought-out items he held in his hand as he continued, still using a casual tone.
"You see, Jericho also informed me that Maven's hot on the blonde's trail. Now, Scott, do you see what I am getting at?" Scott nodded, and sneered evilly.
"Yeah. We trap us a Dead Man!" They stood up, and Scott grabbed his leather jacket. Kev just replaced his short-sleeved nWo shirt with a long sleeved shirt. Kev pocketed the well-crafted knife, while Scott placed the gun in a holster, hidden beneath his leather jacket. They both then walked out of the nWo room and headed towards the parking lot.
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Finally, Christian arrived at his destination: the parking lot. He excitedly threw his suitcase into the trunk of the cab and then opened the door to the backseat. He admired the belt for a moment when he got an idea.
"Hey!" He shouted to the driver. He leaned far over the opened door to show off the belt. "You see this? That means I'm a Champion!!!" The chumpstain driver just rolled his eyes. "Ah, what do you know?! You're just a loser....." Christian retorted bitterly. He was about to get in when he felt himself grabbed from behind. Startled, he tried to free himself, but he was unable to do so from the the damned rookie. He heard the terrible sound of a ref counting ....1...2...3.
Christian shouted his rage as the rookie jumped in excitement. But, adding insult to already insulted pride, Maven jumped in the Canadian's cab and drove it away. Christian shouted his rage to what he thought was an empty parkng lot. He fell to his knees, still shouting, and began punching the ground.
After one punch, of course, he was shouting in a mix of pain *and* anger. The pain, however, is what cleared his senses...sorta. He decided to concentrate on that instead of his anger. DDP, although he hated to admit it, was right about one thing: he needed to get rid of his tantrums.
Christian stood up, and dusted himself off. Well, in review, his luggage was in the cab, along with HIS Hardcore Championship belt. Christian still considered it his,even though---
His thoughts broke off abruptly as he felt himself roughly grabbed from behind, a hand clasped over his mouth. He struggled against his unknown assailant...until he felt the coldness of what could only be a knife, pressed against his throat. He ceased immediately.
"Well, chico, what a great title defense." Scott Hall said, sauntering slowly into Christian's line of view. "I help you out of the kindness of my heart, and what do you do?" Scott feined a hurt look. "You lose it! Tsk, tsk." Christian couldn't respond from both fear and the hand (whom he guessed to be Kevin Nash) that held him. He held his hands down at his sides, breathing deeply, hoping the nWo's intent would be made clear soon. Scott must've seen the look of confusion in his eyes.
"Ah...you're wondering what we want with you, right?" Scott's smile disappeared slighlty, as he frowned in annoyance. "Big Kev....is there a way you can hold him without obstructing his mouth? I hate takling to myself." Kev must've nodded, for Christian instantly felt the hand move away from his mouth. Before he could get relaxed, though, he felt both of arms trapped between his and Nash's bodys, held by Nash's arm. Plus, he still had the knife at his throat. Christian ventured, with a shaky voice however, to answer Scott's question.
"R-r-right....." he felt the knife move ever-so-slightly away from his throat so that he could speak.
"Well, chico. I'll answer your oh-so-obvious question with another one." He moved closer to the young blonde, so they were just a few feet away. "Where's your Bad Ass boyfriend, the Undertaker?" At Christian's shocked expression, Scott just smirked. "Yes, I know about you two. You see...."
Scott's sentence was cut off abruptly as he whirled around in surprise. Undertaker, with a look of near-satanic fury, came speeding towards them on his mortorcycle. Scott recovered quickly, reached within his slightly open leather jacket, and with an evil sneer, he quickly placed the gun directly at Christian's forehead.
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AN- So......do I still have the Gift that has all my fans entranced? I hope so. Anyway, reviews or no, I'll have the next chapter up soon. And this....I do promise. It's about 50% completed....I'll post it Wednesday? Why not Tuesday, you ask? Simple....this week my Comp Class is on Mon. Wed. and Fri..... Tues. and Thurs, I can get on the compy....but only a MacO! (Or whatever those comps are with the flat keyboard, odd-shaped mouse, hardrive and the screen all in one.....you know what I'm talkin' about.)
AN2- Guess What?! Annoying AN's are back too!! Oh it's true, it's STILL true!!! If you've e-mailed me, and are wondering why I haven't replied back....I apologize again. I'm grounded from e-mail for a while. :( Anyway....even though Scott Hall left......he WILL LIVE in this STORY!!!! With that being said.....I doubt MY story will follow the WWF/E storyline from WX8...but, you all didn't want my story to be a clone of their storylines any old ways, kee-rect? *nervous* Well, I hopes so! So...(finally)...onto the story! And the last you have to read the word "story"! LOLOL!! *laughs crazily*
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
While the camera was on the two "icons", Scott Hall and Kevin Nash raced down the rampway. Scott was the first to enter the ring while Nash climbed over the ropes on the right side. Hall glared at Hogan menacingly, which was joined by Nash's own sexy glare. Hogan, thinking they were after the Rock, shook his head no. He started to step through the ropes, but Hall tapped his shoulder, bring the exhausted Icon back in the ring. Hogan looked at him, confused.
Scott Hall then "branded" Hogan as an nWo enemy: He flung his toothpick at him, blinding the "Immortal One" for a brief second. A second was all they needed. Kevin shoved Hogan into the back ropes, and when Hogan bounced back, he was met by a hard punch from Kev.
At that moment, Rock ran back in the ring, wanting to help Hogan. He too was met with a punch from Big Daddy Cool. While the crowd booed wildly, Scott delivered a Razor's Edge to Rock, while Kevin delivered a Jacknife Powerbomb to Hogan.
As the nWo left the ring, they took one last look at the carnage they had left behind. Both Hogan and Rock were unconcious, with Hogan bleeding profusely from the forehead. While the camera was on the ring, Scott whispered to Kevin:
"Now....time to capture us a Dead Man."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
A certain blonde Canadian was oblivous to all of this. He was wearing black jeans (slightly, annoyingly, tight), his fishnet-type wrestling shirt, and black boots. Christian ran through the long, twisty hallways of the Sky Dome with a huge smile on his face. Occasionally, he would laugh and shout out: "I'M A WINNER!!!!"; much to the annoyance of the other WWF superstars.
His happiness soon faded, however, as he found himself.....lost. Christian looked around for a friendly face; one that would help him out. Well, he didn't find that. So, he'd go for the next best thing: a fellow Canadian!
"Hey, Test! Uh....can you show me the way to the parking lot?"
Silence from Test. Test, by the way, was working out. He sat on a stool, one hand lifting a weight, the other resting on his knee. He was wearing pleather black pants, heavy-looking boots, and a sleeveless black wife-beater shirt; why they called those shirts "wife-beaters", Christian was just confused about. Test just gave an evil glare to the younger Canadian and then turned back to lifting his weights. Christian knew he sounded dumb, but decided to ask again.
"Ahem. Just tell me if it's left or right....." A pause. "You may not like me, Test, but you can help a fellow Cana-"
"Ya know, you're the Hardcore Champion. If you want to *remain* the Champion, I'd suggest you leave me alone."
With the anger behind those words, and the heated glare he was receiving, Christian decided to follow his words. He started to walk quickly down the left hallway....but was stopped by Test's playful voice.
"Besides, kid, it's down this middle hallway, to the left, take a few more rights, and then you're there." Christian looked nervously at Test's mischevious smile.
"Uh....thanks." Christian replied, and then ran quickly down the hall by Test before the older Canadian changed his mind about taking the Championship.
Meanwhile.......
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
A confused Scott Hall followed his nWo partner back to the lockerroom.
"Uh...Kev? Shouldn't we be looking for the Undertaker?"
"No need. I already know--DAMN! Where the keys to the room?" Kev exclaimed, digging through his pockets.
"Oh, right here." Scott replied, handing him the keys. Kev said 'thanks' and then opened the door to the lockerroom. Scott plopped down on the sofa, while Kev dug through his luggage bag.
"So....you were saying?"
"Well, according to a sell-out, Christian just called a cab after...." Nash looked pointedly at Scott, "winning the Hardcore title." Scott put on his best innocent-looking smile....knowing his partner could see right through it.
"I wonder how he got that, Kev." Kev rolled his eyes, and then turned his attention back to his bag. Scott continued, dropping the smile, "So....who's the sell-out?"
"Who else? Chris Jericho. That little weasel is willing to do anything, squeal on anybody, to retain the title." Scott laughed.
"The bastard. He hasn't realized yet that the only reason we helped him at No Way Out is because of orders from Vinny Mac. The little prick should know: nWo only look after nWo; noone else."
"Exactly."
"Well....what's the plan?" Scott asked impatiently. Kev sat down at a nearby chair, bag still in hand, as he continued casually.
"Wherever the pretty boy goes, the Dead Man goes. Thus, we follow Christian."
"Okay, I'm clear on that. But, what's in the bag that is so important?"
Kev smiled. Scott's confusion disappeared as his eyes widened in surprise. Kev, however, appeared oblivious to the sought-out items he held in his hand as he continued, still using a casual tone.
"You see, Jericho also informed me that Maven's hot on the blonde's trail. Now, Scott, do you see what I am getting at?" Scott nodded, and sneered evilly.
"Yeah. We trap us a Dead Man!" They stood up, and Scott grabbed his leather jacket. Kev just replaced his short-sleeved nWo shirt with a long sleeved shirt. Kev pocketed the well-crafted knife, while Scott placed the gun in a holster, hidden beneath his leather jacket. They both then walked out of the nWo room and headed towards the parking lot.
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Finally, Christian arrived at his destination: the parking lot. He excitedly threw his suitcase into the trunk of the cab and then opened the door to the backseat. He admired the belt for a moment when he got an idea.
"Hey!" He shouted to the driver. He leaned far over the opened door to show off the belt. "You see this? That means I'm a Champion!!!" The chumpstain driver just rolled his eyes. "Ah, what do you know?! You're just a loser....." Christian retorted bitterly. He was about to get in when he felt himself grabbed from behind. Startled, he tried to free himself, but he was unable to do so from the the damned rookie. He heard the terrible sound of a ref counting ....1...2...3.
Christian shouted his rage as the rookie jumped in excitement. But, adding insult to already insulted pride, Maven jumped in the Canadian's cab and drove it away. Christian shouted his rage to what he thought was an empty parkng lot. He fell to his knees, still shouting, and began punching the ground.
After one punch, of course, he was shouting in a mix of pain *and* anger. The pain, however, is what cleared his senses...sorta. He decided to concentrate on that instead of his anger. DDP, although he hated to admit it, was right about one thing: he needed to get rid of his tantrums.
Christian stood up, and dusted himself off. Well, in review, his luggage was in the cab, along with HIS Hardcore Championship belt. Christian still considered it his,even though---
His thoughts broke off abruptly as he felt himself roughly grabbed from behind, a hand clasped over his mouth. He struggled against his unknown assailant...until he felt the coldness of what could only be a knife, pressed against his throat. He ceased immediately.
"Well, chico, what a great title defense." Scott Hall said, sauntering slowly into Christian's line of view. "I help you out of the kindness of my heart, and what do you do?" Scott feined a hurt look. "You lose it! Tsk, tsk." Christian couldn't respond from both fear and the hand (whom he guessed to be Kevin Nash) that held him. He held his hands down at his sides, breathing deeply, hoping the nWo's intent would be made clear soon. Scott must've seen the look of confusion in his eyes.
"Ah...you're wondering what we want with you, right?" Scott's smile disappeared slighlty, as he frowned in annoyance. "Big Kev....is there a way you can hold him without obstructing his mouth? I hate takling to myself." Kev must've nodded, for Christian instantly felt the hand move away from his mouth. Before he could get relaxed, though, he felt both of arms trapped between his and Nash's bodys, held by Nash's arm. Plus, he still had the knife at his throat. Christian ventured, with a shaky voice however, to answer Scott's question.
"R-r-right....." he felt the knife move ever-so-slightly away from his throat so that he could speak.
"Well, chico. I'll answer your oh-so-obvious question with another one." He moved closer to the young blonde, so they were just a few feet away. "Where's your Bad Ass boyfriend, the Undertaker?" At Christian's shocked expression, Scott just smirked. "Yes, I know about you two. You see...."
Scott's sentence was cut off abruptly as he whirled around in surprise. Undertaker, with a look of near-satanic fury, came speeding towards them on his mortorcycle. Scott recovered quickly, reached within his slightly open leather jacket, and with an evil sneer, he quickly placed the gun directly at Christian's forehead.
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AN- So......do I still have the Gift that has all my fans entranced? I hope so. Anyway, reviews or no, I'll have the next chapter up soon. And this....I do promise. It's about 50% completed....I'll post it Wednesday? Why not Tuesday, you ask? Simple....this week my Comp Class is on Mon. Wed. and Fri..... Tues. and Thurs, I can get on the compy....but only a MacO! (Or whatever those comps are with the flat keyboard, odd-shaped mouse, hardrive and the screen all in one.....you know what I'm talkin' about.)