Mankind: Hello people, it's here at last, chapter 3 in the increasingly
erratic "Under the Ring"!
Mr Socko: You mean the increasingly awful.
Mankind: We hope you all enjoy reading it.
Mr Socko: I am going to take over your body Mick.
Mankind: I'm Mankind.
Mr Socko: You belong to me now.
Mankind: ARRRRGH! No, help me someone this sock is possessing me!
Mr Socko: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
The journey on the yellow brick road was difficult. Many failed WWE superstars had been banished to the side of the road, and lived their lives now jumping out at travellers and trying to rob them. Perry Saturn and Godfather, who by freak coincidence had been fired in both realities, had jumped Kurt and Brock from behind and stolen Brock's lion outfit. Brock had been weeping uncontrollably ever since.
"Neweughew lion outfit," sobbed Lesnar.
"Pull yourself together man, you're not making any sense," snapped Kurt.
"Imnegah lion outfit."
Kurt waved his hand dismissively and pressed on, ignoring Lesnars's crying. Honestly, imagine a growing man crying like a baby, thought Kurt. He was still annoyed that Godfather and Saturn had been able to surprise him like that. If only Kurt hadn't been distracted by Godfather's ho's... but they HAD asked him to tell them about his gold medals, which had proven too much for Kurt to resist. While his back was turned, Lesnar's lion outfit had been stolen. leaving Brock wearing only a pair of black trunks as if he was Stone Cold or Albert or something.
"Boomshakalaka lion outfit."
"Will you stop?" asked Kurt.
They were both just walking now as they were much too tired to run. They had been on their feet for several hours now and needed to rest. Also, it was getting dark and they needed a place to stay the night.
"Is there a hotel or anything around here?" Kurt asked Brock.
"There's the Mae Young hotel not too far from here," replied Brock. Kurt winced at the mention of that name.
"I don't think we're that desperate."
"A bit further down is the Wonderful World of the WWE, which has some rooms."
Kurt screwed up his face.
"Why does no-one else realise that 'the' World Wrestling Entertainment makes no sense?"
Brock looked confused.
"I dunno. But there's a bar there, so I reckon it's our best bet."
They headed off to the Wonderful World of the WWE, while Kurt told Brock about how drinking alcohol was unnecessary and gave Bradshaw as an example of what it could do.
"Bradshaw is a Harvard graduate and I've never seen his lips touch a drop of booze," said a confused Brock.
"So that makes Chris Nowenski..." began Kurt.
"An alcoholic young man with suspicious facial hair who dropped out of school at fifteen," explained Brock. "He scares me. So does Bradshaw. So does this yellow brick road. So does your baldness."
At this point they passed the Mae Young hotel. While some people in this reality were vastly different to their counterparts in Kurt's reality, some were exactly the same.
"You want to see my puppies!" screamed Mae as she ran out of the hotel. Kurt and Brock had thought that they were too tired to run any more. They found out that they were incorrect.
The Wonderful World of the WWE was a huge building situated on the side of the yellow brick road. Outcasts of the world (Maven fans) came here for a good time when they couldn't (be bothered to) go anywhere else. Kurt and Brock ran inside. Molly Holly was at the main desk. At least, an older, fatter, alcoholic, divorced, chain-smoking version of the Molly Holly Kurt knew was there.
"What the hell do you want?" she asked angrily. Brock stood behind Kurt with one hand on his shoulder, shaking horribly.
"That woman scares me Kurt," he said with his voice noticeably shaking. Kurt hit Lesnar's hand in order to have it removed from his shoulder.
"We want a room for the night," said Kurt.
"One bed?" asked Molly.
"TWO beds!" said Kurt quickly.
"And how will you be paying for this room, jackass?" asked Molly.
Kurt realised he had no money and that Lesnar's had been stolen. He tried to think of something.
"How much is Brock Lesnar worth?" asked Kurt.
"He is worth nothing whatsoever," replied Molly before having a coughing fit. This gave Kurt time to think of an idea.
"Well, we're going to see the Wizard of the WWE. We could ask him to give you whatever you want if you'll just let us stay the night.," beamed Kurt. Molly thought for a moment.
"Well, I've always wanted my cousins to die in a really horrible way..." she said. Kurt looked a bit horrified at first, then realised the only alternative was to try the Mae Young hotel.
"Consider it as done!" he said enthusiastically.
"And I want a knife!" she added.
"Consider it as done!" said Kurt.
"And a big axe!"
"Consi..."
"And a Rocket Launcher!"
"C..."
"And a pony!"
"Maybe you could write this down," sighed Kurt.
Kurt and Lesnar managed to secure the room and went to the bar. They still had no money, but Kurt thought he could get them some drinks for free. The barman was D-Lo brown after all.
"Hi, I'm Olympic Gold medallist Kurt Angle. All Olympic heroes drink for free, but of course a smart man like you would know that already."
"That man scares me," whispered Brock.
"I don't remember hearing anything about that. And I don't remember you from the Olympics," said D-Lo.
"I think you'd better recognise just who the heck I am!" snapped Kurt.
"I think you'd better recognise? Hey, that would make a great catchphrase!" said D-Lo.
"You can have it if we can have free drinks," offered Kurt.
"No way," said D-Lo.
"Darn," said Kurt under his breath. He looked around the place. "Well, in that case... just put it on that guy's tab over there. He's known me for years, he always lets me do that."
D-Lo looked sceptical.
"The Undertaker let's you put stuff on HIS tab? But he's always telling people not to disrespect his tab," said D-Lo. Then he shrugged. "What the hell, what are you both having?"
"What's the least scary drink you have?" asked Brock. D-Lo shook his head about madly.
"Water!" he said.
"Your head is scary. I'll have that. Water, I mean, not your head," said Brock.
"I'll have a glass of milk," said Kurt. D-Lo looked puzzled.
"We don't serve milk in this bar," he said.
"He's not milk - he's Kurt Angle," said Lesnar as he took his water.
"You don't serve milk?" queried Kurt. "What kind of bar is this?"
Kurt had failed to notice that The Undertaker had walked over and was standing behind him.
"This is MY bar!" he said angrily, and in a strange high-pitched voice.
"They said to put their drinks on your tab, sir," said D-Lo nervously.
"Oh they did, did they? YOU DO NOT DISRESPECT MY TAB!"
Taker hurled Kurt over the bar and smashed a glass off of his bald head. Then his wife Sarah ran over and delivered an F-Five to Brock through one of the tables.
"I am the next big thing!" she yelled.
Taker left her and strolled out of the Wonderful World of the WWE.
"I don't sing, I don't dance, and I don't get disrespected," he said before setting off down the yellow brick road on his tricycle.
To be continued...
Mr Socko: You mean the increasingly awful.
Mankind: We hope you all enjoy reading it.
Mr Socko: I am going to take over your body Mick.
Mankind: I'm Mankind.
Mr Socko: You belong to me now.
Mankind: ARRRRGH! No, help me someone this sock is possessing me!
Mr Socko: HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
The journey on the yellow brick road was difficult. Many failed WWE superstars had been banished to the side of the road, and lived their lives now jumping out at travellers and trying to rob them. Perry Saturn and Godfather, who by freak coincidence had been fired in both realities, had jumped Kurt and Brock from behind and stolen Brock's lion outfit. Brock had been weeping uncontrollably ever since.
"Neweughew lion outfit," sobbed Lesnar.
"Pull yourself together man, you're not making any sense," snapped Kurt.
"Imnegah lion outfit."
Kurt waved his hand dismissively and pressed on, ignoring Lesnars's crying. Honestly, imagine a growing man crying like a baby, thought Kurt. He was still annoyed that Godfather and Saturn had been able to surprise him like that. If only Kurt hadn't been distracted by Godfather's ho's... but they HAD asked him to tell them about his gold medals, which had proven too much for Kurt to resist. While his back was turned, Lesnar's lion outfit had been stolen. leaving Brock wearing only a pair of black trunks as if he was Stone Cold or Albert or something.
"Boomshakalaka lion outfit."
"Will you stop?" asked Kurt.
They were both just walking now as they were much too tired to run. They had been on their feet for several hours now and needed to rest. Also, it was getting dark and they needed a place to stay the night.
"Is there a hotel or anything around here?" Kurt asked Brock.
"There's the Mae Young hotel not too far from here," replied Brock. Kurt winced at the mention of that name.
"I don't think we're that desperate."
"A bit further down is the Wonderful World of the WWE, which has some rooms."
Kurt screwed up his face.
"Why does no-one else realise that 'the' World Wrestling Entertainment makes no sense?"
Brock looked confused.
"I dunno. But there's a bar there, so I reckon it's our best bet."
They headed off to the Wonderful World of the WWE, while Kurt told Brock about how drinking alcohol was unnecessary and gave Bradshaw as an example of what it could do.
"Bradshaw is a Harvard graduate and I've never seen his lips touch a drop of booze," said a confused Brock.
"So that makes Chris Nowenski..." began Kurt.
"An alcoholic young man with suspicious facial hair who dropped out of school at fifteen," explained Brock. "He scares me. So does Bradshaw. So does this yellow brick road. So does your baldness."
At this point they passed the Mae Young hotel. While some people in this reality were vastly different to their counterparts in Kurt's reality, some were exactly the same.
"You want to see my puppies!" screamed Mae as she ran out of the hotel. Kurt and Brock had thought that they were too tired to run any more. They found out that they were incorrect.
The Wonderful World of the WWE was a huge building situated on the side of the yellow brick road. Outcasts of the world (Maven fans) came here for a good time when they couldn't (be bothered to) go anywhere else. Kurt and Brock ran inside. Molly Holly was at the main desk. At least, an older, fatter, alcoholic, divorced, chain-smoking version of the Molly Holly Kurt knew was there.
"What the hell do you want?" she asked angrily. Brock stood behind Kurt with one hand on his shoulder, shaking horribly.
"That woman scares me Kurt," he said with his voice noticeably shaking. Kurt hit Lesnar's hand in order to have it removed from his shoulder.
"We want a room for the night," said Kurt.
"One bed?" asked Molly.
"TWO beds!" said Kurt quickly.
"And how will you be paying for this room, jackass?" asked Molly.
Kurt realised he had no money and that Lesnar's had been stolen. He tried to think of something.
"How much is Brock Lesnar worth?" asked Kurt.
"He is worth nothing whatsoever," replied Molly before having a coughing fit. This gave Kurt time to think of an idea.
"Well, we're going to see the Wizard of the WWE. We could ask him to give you whatever you want if you'll just let us stay the night.," beamed Kurt. Molly thought for a moment.
"Well, I've always wanted my cousins to die in a really horrible way..." she said. Kurt looked a bit horrified at first, then realised the only alternative was to try the Mae Young hotel.
"Consider it as done!" he said enthusiastically.
"And I want a knife!" she added.
"Consider it as done!" said Kurt.
"And a big axe!"
"Consi..."
"And a Rocket Launcher!"
"C..."
"And a pony!"
"Maybe you could write this down," sighed Kurt.
Kurt and Lesnar managed to secure the room and went to the bar. They still had no money, but Kurt thought he could get them some drinks for free. The barman was D-Lo brown after all.
"Hi, I'm Olympic Gold medallist Kurt Angle. All Olympic heroes drink for free, but of course a smart man like you would know that already."
"That man scares me," whispered Brock.
"I don't remember hearing anything about that. And I don't remember you from the Olympics," said D-Lo.
"I think you'd better recognise just who the heck I am!" snapped Kurt.
"I think you'd better recognise? Hey, that would make a great catchphrase!" said D-Lo.
"You can have it if we can have free drinks," offered Kurt.
"No way," said D-Lo.
"Darn," said Kurt under his breath. He looked around the place. "Well, in that case... just put it on that guy's tab over there. He's known me for years, he always lets me do that."
D-Lo looked sceptical.
"The Undertaker let's you put stuff on HIS tab? But he's always telling people not to disrespect his tab," said D-Lo. Then he shrugged. "What the hell, what are you both having?"
"What's the least scary drink you have?" asked Brock. D-Lo shook his head about madly.
"Water!" he said.
"Your head is scary. I'll have that. Water, I mean, not your head," said Brock.
"I'll have a glass of milk," said Kurt. D-Lo looked puzzled.
"We don't serve milk in this bar," he said.
"He's not milk - he's Kurt Angle," said Lesnar as he took his water.
"You don't serve milk?" queried Kurt. "What kind of bar is this?"
Kurt had failed to notice that The Undertaker had walked over and was standing behind him.
"This is MY bar!" he said angrily, and in a strange high-pitched voice.
"They said to put their drinks on your tab, sir," said D-Lo nervously.
"Oh they did, did they? YOU DO NOT DISRESPECT MY TAB!"
Taker hurled Kurt over the bar and smashed a glass off of his bald head. Then his wife Sarah ran over and delivered an F-Five to Brock through one of the tables.
"I am the next big thing!" she yelled.
Taker left her and strolled out of the Wonderful World of the WWE.
"I don't sing, I don't dance, and I don't get disrespected," he said before setting off down the yellow brick road on his tricycle.
To be continued...