A/N: The events here take place before JR stopped doing the Ross Report.
Also, I apologize for the slowness of updating this fic, I'll try and be a
bit quicker with the rest of it.
"Damn fine coffee you have here at The World, and d*mn good cherry pie," I heard myself saying.
"The Rock prefers a different kind of pie," said The Rock, who for some unknown reason had a log tied to his head.
I saw Ivory walk into the room. Much to my surprise, she had the head of a horse, and I mean that quite literally in this case.
"Neigh," said Ivory.
I looked down and saw that I was apparently being eaten by a piece of lettuce.
"THE RATTLESNAKE!" I yelled as I came back into the land of the conscious. For some reason I always yelled that whenever I woke up. For some reason I yelled it most of the time in fact. As I began to recall what had happened though, the thought of Austin vanished and I realised I was tied to a chair, and the only yelling I was going to be doing was of the "HELP ME" variety. I yelled and yelled, but apparently no-one could hear me. Either that or they were ignoring me. That happened sometimes. In fact, it happened rather a lot. Just the other day I had seen Chris Jericho out in the parking lot and said "Hi Chris" to him, and he had looked around as if he hadn't seen me, and said nothing as if he hadn't heard me but I know he had. Just because I call him a jackass and an egomaniac and insult him every chance I get. I mean, that's no reason to be rude.
I knew that somehow I was going to have to get myself out of this. I still had this weeks Ross Report to write, in my usual ridiculously enthusiastic way, where I act as if the WWE actually has a promising future and that I actually care. I also act as if the time I brought in the fake Diesel and Razor Ramon never happened, and that I'm really a nice guy, which I'm not. One day I will bring in a fake Austin and Hogan. Then the WWE will be sorry.
I blinked rapidly as I tried to clear my head. The evil thoughts that had haunted me in my short time as a heel in the past were returning, and I had to get rid of them. After all, I was Good Ol' JR now, and I wanted to remain that way forever. I struggled with the ropes but to no avail. I threw a temper tantrum then, and I accidentally caused the chair to tilt over. From my new vantage point I could see a single piece of broken glass lying on the ground. I began awkwardly crawling (awkwardly since I didn't have the use of my hands and had a chair stuck to me) on my side and I managed to manoeuvre so that I could cut the ropes and free myself. I know that may have sounded improbable, but if Big Show can be champion. then I think you can accept that. Besides, anything can happen in the WWE. Apart from Billy Gunn becoming World champion. That will never happen.
Now I was free (at least from the chair, I still wasn't free of my WWE contact or anything) I realised it was time to get back on the case. Someone had attacked me, in fact I was lucky to still be alive. I didn't know if Stacy and King had been quite that lucky.
I headed back to Stacy Kiebler's place. I had to break the door down, which no doubt caused some unwanted attention, but I knew Stacy's neighbours were all male and all perverts, so I knew they would not get involved less I expose them.
Inside, there was no sign of Stacy, King, or the SOB who had attacked me from behind like a gutted fish, or perhaps a gutless coward would be more accurate. I began looking for clues in Stacy's underwear drawer, before remembering that I wasn't King and I wouldn't do something like that.
I looked where I had met Stacy, and I found a note lying on the table. I mean, I hadn't met Stacy on the table, I mean I was in the general vicinity of where I had met her, and from there I could see the note laying on the table. I was glad the attacker had left a note, it was so much easier than doing real detective work. The note read:
Dear JR,
I see you managed to escape. Well, I can't actually see it, but if you're reading this note then it is safe to assume that you escaped. If you are not JR, please do not read this, it is private. If you have not escaped then you cannot possibly be reading this. Anyway, if you want to see the girl or the old perv again, drop the HHH case.
I didn't like what the note had to say, but at least now I knew Stacy and King were alive. Trouble was, now I not only had to find HHH, but King and Stacy as well. So a few hours into the case and instead of reducing the amount of work left to do I had managed to triple it. I wouldn't get paid extra for tracking them down (no-one else would really miss either of them) but I needed to know what Stacy had seen when HHH had been abducted and King was still my friend.
There was only one real option left to me, unless I actually wanted to do a lot of work, which needless to say I didn't. I headed off to the Smackdown arena to find The Undertaker and ask if I could borrow his invisible crystal ball.
When I walked into the arena, I began sweating nervously. I hadn't been in a Smackdown building since the time I got caught by backstage cameras during a Brock Lesnar segment. Boy, I had gotten into trouble for that. Bischoff had called me a turncoat, and Michael Cole had ran about the building nervously yelling something about me being after his job, and saying he remembered the time I kicked him in the groin. I closed my eyes as I remembered that incident, from my kind of heel who gets cheers period when I brought in Dr Death and built my own announce table. No, no that wasn't me anymore. I put my hand against the wall to steady myself when I saw Jamie Noble walk past me with a bottle of beer in his hand.
"Hey, have you seen The Undertaker?" I asked him.
"You're my best friend," he replied before staggering away. I appreciated the sentiment, but it didn't help me find Taker.
Just then, I heard the sound of a motorbike behind me, and I turned to see Undertaker riding towards me. I waved to him, but he ignored me and just kept riding towards me. I remembered calling him a son of a bitch a few months back, and I guessed he remembered it as well. I turned and ran (well at least did a very fast waddle) down the corridor as he came after me. Unfortunately I tripped and I turned to see Taker's bike about to run over my head as my cowboy hat fell off...
To be continued...
"Damn fine coffee you have here at The World, and d*mn good cherry pie," I heard myself saying.
"The Rock prefers a different kind of pie," said The Rock, who for some unknown reason had a log tied to his head.
I saw Ivory walk into the room. Much to my surprise, she had the head of a horse, and I mean that quite literally in this case.
"Neigh," said Ivory.
I looked down and saw that I was apparently being eaten by a piece of lettuce.
"THE RATTLESNAKE!" I yelled as I came back into the land of the conscious. For some reason I always yelled that whenever I woke up. For some reason I yelled it most of the time in fact. As I began to recall what had happened though, the thought of Austin vanished and I realised I was tied to a chair, and the only yelling I was going to be doing was of the "HELP ME" variety. I yelled and yelled, but apparently no-one could hear me. Either that or they were ignoring me. That happened sometimes. In fact, it happened rather a lot. Just the other day I had seen Chris Jericho out in the parking lot and said "Hi Chris" to him, and he had looked around as if he hadn't seen me, and said nothing as if he hadn't heard me but I know he had. Just because I call him a jackass and an egomaniac and insult him every chance I get. I mean, that's no reason to be rude.
I knew that somehow I was going to have to get myself out of this. I still had this weeks Ross Report to write, in my usual ridiculously enthusiastic way, where I act as if the WWE actually has a promising future and that I actually care. I also act as if the time I brought in the fake Diesel and Razor Ramon never happened, and that I'm really a nice guy, which I'm not. One day I will bring in a fake Austin and Hogan. Then the WWE will be sorry.
I blinked rapidly as I tried to clear my head. The evil thoughts that had haunted me in my short time as a heel in the past were returning, and I had to get rid of them. After all, I was Good Ol' JR now, and I wanted to remain that way forever. I struggled with the ropes but to no avail. I threw a temper tantrum then, and I accidentally caused the chair to tilt over. From my new vantage point I could see a single piece of broken glass lying on the ground. I began awkwardly crawling (awkwardly since I didn't have the use of my hands and had a chair stuck to me) on my side and I managed to manoeuvre so that I could cut the ropes and free myself. I know that may have sounded improbable, but if Big Show can be champion. then I think you can accept that. Besides, anything can happen in the WWE. Apart from Billy Gunn becoming World champion. That will never happen.
Now I was free (at least from the chair, I still wasn't free of my WWE contact or anything) I realised it was time to get back on the case. Someone had attacked me, in fact I was lucky to still be alive. I didn't know if Stacy and King had been quite that lucky.
I headed back to Stacy Kiebler's place. I had to break the door down, which no doubt caused some unwanted attention, but I knew Stacy's neighbours were all male and all perverts, so I knew they would not get involved less I expose them.
Inside, there was no sign of Stacy, King, or the SOB who had attacked me from behind like a gutted fish, or perhaps a gutless coward would be more accurate. I began looking for clues in Stacy's underwear drawer, before remembering that I wasn't King and I wouldn't do something like that.
I looked where I had met Stacy, and I found a note lying on the table. I mean, I hadn't met Stacy on the table, I mean I was in the general vicinity of where I had met her, and from there I could see the note laying on the table. I was glad the attacker had left a note, it was so much easier than doing real detective work. The note read:
Dear JR,
I see you managed to escape. Well, I can't actually see it, but if you're reading this note then it is safe to assume that you escaped. If you are not JR, please do not read this, it is private. If you have not escaped then you cannot possibly be reading this. Anyway, if you want to see the girl or the old perv again, drop the HHH case.
I didn't like what the note had to say, but at least now I knew Stacy and King were alive. Trouble was, now I not only had to find HHH, but King and Stacy as well. So a few hours into the case and instead of reducing the amount of work left to do I had managed to triple it. I wouldn't get paid extra for tracking them down (no-one else would really miss either of them) but I needed to know what Stacy had seen when HHH had been abducted and King was still my friend.
There was only one real option left to me, unless I actually wanted to do a lot of work, which needless to say I didn't. I headed off to the Smackdown arena to find The Undertaker and ask if I could borrow his invisible crystal ball.
When I walked into the arena, I began sweating nervously. I hadn't been in a Smackdown building since the time I got caught by backstage cameras during a Brock Lesnar segment. Boy, I had gotten into trouble for that. Bischoff had called me a turncoat, and Michael Cole had ran about the building nervously yelling something about me being after his job, and saying he remembered the time I kicked him in the groin. I closed my eyes as I remembered that incident, from my kind of heel who gets cheers period when I brought in Dr Death and built my own announce table. No, no that wasn't me anymore. I put my hand against the wall to steady myself when I saw Jamie Noble walk past me with a bottle of beer in his hand.
"Hey, have you seen The Undertaker?" I asked him.
"You're my best friend," he replied before staggering away. I appreciated the sentiment, but it didn't help me find Taker.
Just then, I heard the sound of a motorbike behind me, and I turned to see Undertaker riding towards me. I waved to him, but he ignored me and just kept riding towards me. I remembered calling him a son of a bitch a few months back, and I guessed he remembered it as well. I turned and ran (well at least did a very fast waddle) down the corridor as he came after me. Unfortunately I tripped and I turned to see Taker's bike about to run over my head as my cowboy hat fell off...
To be continued...