Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and I'm no psychiatrist, so there's no
one to sue around here!
A message to readers: I'm not yelling at anyone in particular, in fact, I have to go through this with my friends every once in a while about the original fiction I write. I have a sort of outline in my head of when, where, and why certain superstars will pop into a story. For example, I used Shawn Michaels in the last chapter because I've noticed he sort of preaches believing in yourself and things like that, which is similar to what I could imagine a psychiatrist saying. Because I saw that a reviewer was a Shawn Michaels fan, I put her in. I didn't put Shawn Michaels in because she wanted him there. I put him in because I needed him there. See the difference? Also, if I feel a requested superstar just can't fit into a story (ex: It's hard for me to make any Brock Lesnar jokes involving psychological problems except maybe his urge to jump around), they just won't be in it until I see something I can work with. I try my best to write with the reader's interests in mind, but I can't just act as a monkey puppet and write whatever the hell someone wants me to write. With patience and time, I will probably learn how to really entertain and please you guys. But for now, you've gotta settle with mediocre little me. :)
Now all that's said and done, I forgot to apologize to all the Victoria fans about the psycho stuff last chapter. Maybe I forgot about that because I like her too, and I don't like Trish...whatever.
All slang is being drawn from the phrases and conversations my rapper wannabe classmates use. Don't be offended, my friends can be morons.
I talk a lot. Right? I'll shutup now.
[Kylrane is busy fixing up her desk for her next appointment. There are nicks and scratches on the surface and corners, but it's still in pretty good condition. She's singing along to a Dashboard Confessional song, let's say 'Screaming Infidelities', and not really worried about her next client. How could it get any worse?]
Speaker: Young lady, singing Depressed Guy songs don't suit you. Singing doesn't suit you.
Kylrane: [stares] Shutup, I know I can't sing! And - huh? What? But...I...
Speaker: But what? Wow, for once, you've got nothing to say!
Kylrane: Shutup! Where the hell is Monkey, and who are you?!
Speaker: MWAHAHA! So your little friend here is called Monkey? Well, I didn't think you'd recognize my voice, since we've never formally met, but you will come to fear my client and I very soon!
Kylrane: Client?! ...Please don't tell me, please no.....
Speaker: Kid, get used to Paul Heyman ruling your petty little world, because the Big Show WILL reign supreme champion of the WWE!!
Kylrane: [looks up at the heavens] What have I done to anger you so? [back to the speaker] Look you middle aged pot bellied ass pimple, get the hell out of my building THIS INSTANT!
Speaker: I think not, child. You aren't exactly a threat to the Big Show, and you wouldn't want him messing up your little office, would you?
Kylrane: [silently glares]
Speaker: I knew you'd see it my way. Oh, joy, here comes your next victim, er, patient! Should I take him up now or give you a few minutes of panic?
Kylrane: Asshole. Bring him up now.
Speaker: Of course, little girl! [shuts off communication]
Kylrane: [breathing deeply to calm down] How...dare...he!!!!! [Her hands hurl a paperweight across the room, which smashes upon impact. Still furious, she checks who her client is on her trusty laptop. It says a Mr. Yo will be arriving soon.] Mr. Yo. Might as well have been called Mr. Vanilla Ice, this is so obvious.
[Paul Heyman bursts into the room with "Mr. Yo", and grins at Kylrane.]
Heyman: Here's the doctor, sir, have a good time! I'll be downstairs screwing up your life, kid. [turns his back and starts to leave]
Kylrane: [picks up another paperweight and hurls it at Heyman] Die you pig!!!! [It hits the door. Heyman had slammed it shut behind him.] DAMNIT!!!
Mr. Yo: Cue the beat. [Beat starts. I warn you now, I cannot rap!]
Listen little girl, that's not nice
And I am no Vanilla Ice.
So shut your mouth and open your ears
Or I'll be da reason for all your fears!
My name's John Cena, and I'm da best
I see you're a kid so don't be a pest
My game is wrestling, you can feel my heat
Now start da doctorin' and stop the beat! [Beat stops]
Kylrane: [Points to the red recliner] Sit. [Cena sits. Kylrane is speaking through gritted teeth.] What do you need to discuss? [Takes laptop and sits on the chair opposite the red recliner.]
Cena: Ahem.
Ain't nuthin wack here,
So -
Kylrane: DAMNIT TALK NORMALLY!!!!
Cena: [stares] Dat yellin' ain't cool, dawg. Yo...[Listens for a moment. Dashboard Confessional's 'For You To Notice' is now playing.] Dis crappy sound is WACK! Wat shit is dis?!
Kylrane: Hey! I like this guy, you just keep your little comments to yourself, I've got too much to deal with right now...[rubs forehead] Um, why did you decide to do this rapper gimmick??
Cena: Gimmick? Dat shit ain't no gimmick! Dis is for REAL! I'm da real thing! I'm down wit you not understandin' wat I'm doin', you just a kid from the 'burbs. You don't no wat it like being gangsta! You from da 'burbs, right?
Kylrane: [stares] If you really want to know, I'm more 'gangsta' than you will EVER be! I live in New York City! I grew up to the sounds of Jay-Z, 2pac, Biggie, Dre, Puffy, etc. blaring from the tenants' stereo upstairs!! But I don't act all ghetto like you, dumbass, I'm not meant to be like Eve or Missy Elliot. Do you have a freakin' identity crisis?
Cena: [whimpers] ....YEA!!! [starts crying] Eminem is so cool and he has so many fans and people fear him so I figured if I started acting like him people would react to me the same way!!!
Kylrane: But they don't. They think you're a jackass.
Cena: [buries head in his hands. sniffs] I know, I know! They think I'm Vanilla Ice, not Eminem.
Kylrane: You know why they compare you to Vanilla Ice? You changed your image. You aren't really from the streets. Be yourself damnit, even your 'bling bling' is outdated. [points to the gold plated medallion Cena wears]
Cena: Then how will people like me?
Kylrane: You don't have to be a face to gain respect, you dumbass. However, you've kinda dug yourself into a hole you can't get out of. [scratches head] Look, go to Vince McMahon for ideas, ok? I can't think that quickly. [takes out a bag of skittles and starts eating some] Go, be free, and here's your bill. [hands Cena a bill]
Cena: [nearly chokes] $1500 for a twenty minute session?! Wassupwitdat?!
Hurricane: [pops in] That's my line, get your own!! [gives Kylrane a Hurri- mask] Watch out, there's a Hurricane comin' through!! [gives a thumbs up and zooms down the stairs and out the front door]
Kylrane: [stares at the Hurri-mask] OKIE DOKIE...by the way, that bill is to go DIRECTLY to Vince McMahon. It covers all the WWE clients I've seen so far plus damages caused by said clients. I'd be charging more, but...well, he's had to deal with you sickos from the beginning.
Cena: Dat be true. Goodbye to you. [leaves]
Kylrane: .....[remembers Heyman]....Still gotta take care of that Ugly Ugly Hippo...Shit. [idea light bulb turns on above her head] AH-HAH!!! Heyman, come up here instantly!! I need you to try out a chair I have...
[Heyman comes up and sits on the red recliner. The lever behind the economy sized skittles bag is pulled and Heyman falls down the hole.
Later, a truck mysteriously leaves a ranch in Texas. A big wooden box with a red ribbon on it is left by a house. A tall figure walks to the box cautiously and reads the tag to himself.
"Undertaker-
I think you'll enjoy this gift a bit more than the other one's you've received lately. It's not the Big Show, but it may satisfy you for now.
The Doctor"
Taker steps back from the package, wonders who The Doctor is, and opens the door to the box. He grins evilly.]
Taker: Well, well, well. Looks like there ain't gonna be any singing from you, but I'll have a good time alright. [Heyman whimpers]
Ok...sorry if that one sucked...things have been stressful with around the house even with me on vacation. *SIGH* I sure could use an economy size bag of skittles. I wish they had those...do they? I dunno. If there isn't, there should be!!! Anyway, please review!
A message to readers: I'm not yelling at anyone in particular, in fact, I have to go through this with my friends every once in a while about the original fiction I write. I have a sort of outline in my head of when, where, and why certain superstars will pop into a story. For example, I used Shawn Michaels in the last chapter because I've noticed he sort of preaches believing in yourself and things like that, which is similar to what I could imagine a psychiatrist saying. Because I saw that a reviewer was a Shawn Michaels fan, I put her in. I didn't put Shawn Michaels in because she wanted him there. I put him in because I needed him there. See the difference? Also, if I feel a requested superstar just can't fit into a story (ex: It's hard for me to make any Brock Lesnar jokes involving psychological problems except maybe his urge to jump around), they just won't be in it until I see something I can work with. I try my best to write with the reader's interests in mind, but I can't just act as a monkey puppet and write whatever the hell someone wants me to write. With patience and time, I will probably learn how to really entertain and please you guys. But for now, you've gotta settle with mediocre little me. :)
Now all that's said and done, I forgot to apologize to all the Victoria fans about the psycho stuff last chapter. Maybe I forgot about that because I like her too, and I don't like Trish...whatever.
All slang is being drawn from the phrases and conversations my rapper wannabe classmates use. Don't be offended, my friends can be morons.
I talk a lot. Right? I'll shutup now.
[Kylrane is busy fixing up her desk for her next appointment. There are nicks and scratches on the surface and corners, but it's still in pretty good condition. She's singing along to a Dashboard Confessional song, let's say 'Screaming Infidelities', and not really worried about her next client. How could it get any worse?]
Speaker: Young lady, singing Depressed Guy songs don't suit you. Singing doesn't suit you.
Kylrane: [stares] Shutup, I know I can't sing! And - huh? What? But...I...
Speaker: But what? Wow, for once, you've got nothing to say!
Kylrane: Shutup! Where the hell is Monkey, and who are you?!
Speaker: MWAHAHA! So your little friend here is called Monkey? Well, I didn't think you'd recognize my voice, since we've never formally met, but you will come to fear my client and I very soon!
Kylrane: Client?! ...Please don't tell me, please no.....
Speaker: Kid, get used to Paul Heyman ruling your petty little world, because the Big Show WILL reign supreme champion of the WWE!!
Kylrane: [looks up at the heavens] What have I done to anger you so? [back to the speaker] Look you middle aged pot bellied ass pimple, get the hell out of my building THIS INSTANT!
Speaker: I think not, child. You aren't exactly a threat to the Big Show, and you wouldn't want him messing up your little office, would you?
Kylrane: [silently glares]
Speaker: I knew you'd see it my way. Oh, joy, here comes your next victim, er, patient! Should I take him up now or give you a few minutes of panic?
Kylrane: Asshole. Bring him up now.
Speaker: Of course, little girl! [shuts off communication]
Kylrane: [breathing deeply to calm down] How...dare...he!!!!! [Her hands hurl a paperweight across the room, which smashes upon impact. Still furious, she checks who her client is on her trusty laptop. It says a Mr. Yo will be arriving soon.] Mr. Yo. Might as well have been called Mr. Vanilla Ice, this is so obvious.
[Paul Heyman bursts into the room with "Mr. Yo", and grins at Kylrane.]
Heyman: Here's the doctor, sir, have a good time! I'll be downstairs screwing up your life, kid. [turns his back and starts to leave]
Kylrane: [picks up another paperweight and hurls it at Heyman] Die you pig!!!! [It hits the door. Heyman had slammed it shut behind him.] DAMNIT!!!
Mr. Yo: Cue the beat. [Beat starts. I warn you now, I cannot rap!]
Listen little girl, that's not nice
And I am no Vanilla Ice.
So shut your mouth and open your ears
Or I'll be da reason for all your fears!
My name's John Cena, and I'm da best
I see you're a kid so don't be a pest
My game is wrestling, you can feel my heat
Now start da doctorin' and stop the beat! [Beat stops]
Kylrane: [Points to the red recliner] Sit. [Cena sits. Kylrane is speaking through gritted teeth.] What do you need to discuss? [Takes laptop and sits on the chair opposite the red recliner.]
Cena: Ahem.
Ain't nuthin wack here,
So -
Kylrane: DAMNIT TALK NORMALLY!!!!
Cena: [stares] Dat yellin' ain't cool, dawg. Yo...[Listens for a moment. Dashboard Confessional's 'For You To Notice' is now playing.] Dis crappy sound is WACK! Wat shit is dis?!
Kylrane: Hey! I like this guy, you just keep your little comments to yourself, I've got too much to deal with right now...[rubs forehead] Um, why did you decide to do this rapper gimmick??
Cena: Gimmick? Dat shit ain't no gimmick! Dis is for REAL! I'm da real thing! I'm down wit you not understandin' wat I'm doin', you just a kid from the 'burbs. You don't no wat it like being gangsta! You from da 'burbs, right?
Kylrane: [stares] If you really want to know, I'm more 'gangsta' than you will EVER be! I live in New York City! I grew up to the sounds of Jay-Z, 2pac, Biggie, Dre, Puffy, etc. blaring from the tenants' stereo upstairs!! But I don't act all ghetto like you, dumbass, I'm not meant to be like Eve or Missy Elliot. Do you have a freakin' identity crisis?
Cena: [whimpers] ....YEA!!! [starts crying] Eminem is so cool and he has so many fans and people fear him so I figured if I started acting like him people would react to me the same way!!!
Kylrane: But they don't. They think you're a jackass.
Cena: [buries head in his hands. sniffs] I know, I know! They think I'm Vanilla Ice, not Eminem.
Kylrane: You know why they compare you to Vanilla Ice? You changed your image. You aren't really from the streets. Be yourself damnit, even your 'bling bling' is outdated. [points to the gold plated medallion Cena wears]
Cena: Then how will people like me?
Kylrane: You don't have to be a face to gain respect, you dumbass. However, you've kinda dug yourself into a hole you can't get out of. [scratches head] Look, go to Vince McMahon for ideas, ok? I can't think that quickly. [takes out a bag of skittles and starts eating some] Go, be free, and here's your bill. [hands Cena a bill]
Cena: [nearly chokes] $1500 for a twenty minute session?! Wassupwitdat?!
Hurricane: [pops in] That's my line, get your own!! [gives Kylrane a Hurri- mask] Watch out, there's a Hurricane comin' through!! [gives a thumbs up and zooms down the stairs and out the front door]
Kylrane: [stares at the Hurri-mask] OKIE DOKIE...by the way, that bill is to go DIRECTLY to Vince McMahon. It covers all the WWE clients I've seen so far plus damages caused by said clients. I'd be charging more, but...well, he's had to deal with you sickos from the beginning.
Cena: Dat be true. Goodbye to you. [leaves]
Kylrane: .....[remembers Heyman]....Still gotta take care of that Ugly Ugly Hippo...Shit. [idea light bulb turns on above her head] AH-HAH!!! Heyman, come up here instantly!! I need you to try out a chair I have...
[Heyman comes up and sits on the red recliner. The lever behind the economy sized skittles bag is pulled and Heyman falls down the hole.
Later, a truck mysteriously leaves a ranch in Texas. A big wooden box with a red ribbon on it is left by a house. A tall figure walks to the box cautiously and reads the tag to himself.
"Undertaker-
I think you'll enjoy this gift a bit more than the other one's you've received lately. It's not the Big Show, but it may satisfy you for now.
The Doctor"
Taker steps back from the package, wonders who The Doctor is, and opens the door to the box. He grins evilly.]
Taker: Well, well, well. Looks like there ain't gonna be any singing from you, but I'll have a good time alright. [Heyman whimpers]
Ok...sorry if that one sucked...things have been stressful with around the house even with me on vacation. *SIGH* I sure could use an economy size bag of skittles. I wish they had those...do they? I dunno. If there isn't, there should be!!! Anyway, please review!