Warnings: You may wet yourself... I will not be held responsible!
Disclaimer: I own only myself! The other non-wrestling type people who appear own themselves (or their parents own them). I have only borrowed their names and images and will give them back as soon as I'm done! Girl Scout's honor!
Prologue
"The package is in transit."
Outside a loading dock, wearing a white lab coat and plastic safety goggles, Booker T was talking on a cellular phone.
"And, just to refresh my memory, why has it been shipped out?"
"Well," he started, shifting the goggles from his face to on top of his heads, "we needed proper test subjects. And no one around here would be willing to... participate."
"That would be because of your last experiment, wouldn't it?"
Booker frowned. "It was in the name of science! How many times do I have say that?"
"Listen, you're preaching to the choir. If I had any problems with your... hobby... I would've shut you down a long time ago."
Lost in the memory of his past triumph, he ignored the statement. "It was brilliant, Linda! No one else has been able to recreate that kind of success. No one."
"I know, Booker..."
"And then they had to nerve to double-cross me and use my own invention against me."
"Calming breaths, Booker. Go to your happy place. Remember your happy place?"
"How could they do that, Linda? I am a five-time World Champion! And they... they..."
"Spanked you. Yes. I remember it quite vividly."
"But this plan... This plan is true brilliance. I'm not even gonna be there when the shit goes down. And my informant plans on giving me a full report of the experiment once it's been completed. And I don't have any of the formula left lying around so they can use it on me. I can't lose!"
"And you're sure it's non-toxic? I don't want them put out of commission."
Booker smiled, madly, as required in the mad scientist bylaws. "Oh, they won't get sick off of it. But I'm not sure how inclined they'll be to be out in front of a crowd."
"In any event, I think you'd better send some damage control. The last thing we need are some amateurs mishandling the situation."
"I'm on it. Give my love to the husband and kids."
Full of life, vigor, and Y. J. Stinger, he ended the call and placed another one. It rang four times before the answering machine kicked in.
"Hello," a male voice said, "you've reached Rogue's machine. She's not available right now. In all likely events, she's probably in the bathroom."
A female voice responded, "Oy! No adlibbing! Read the lines as written!"
"Right... Anyway, please leave a message after the beep... Chibi chibi, you wanna do the beep?"
"Beep beeeep," a younger female voice started. "Beep beep beeeeeeep."
"No, Chibi chibi. Only one beep. One. Beep."
The older female voice returned. "Beep this, you wanker!" The sounds of a scuffle could be heard.
"It's coming out of the socket!" the male voice yelled.
The automatic beep came on and Booker left his message.