ACT 6- Bishoff's Hotel Room
The hotel room is surprisingly run down, as a matter of fact, nobody had seen Bishoff that night. He wasn't too hot on the whole 'dance' idea, and it looked as if some things had been going on in his hotel room lately. But either way, the ladder out in the back yard under his window led up to the now open window where some of the Raw gang sat waiting. Chris Jericho was playing solitaire on Bishoff's personal laptop while Eugene was reading some of his comic books.
"Hurricane would like this one." He said as he read.
Jericho rolled his eyes, "How did I get stuck watching the baby?"
Trish bangs Bishoff's stereo, "Damit it must be broken."
"Or not plugged in." Jericho smiled. "But then again, I'm sure you know…"
"It's late, don't even start." Trish takes in a deep breath, cutting him off.
The atmosphere is tense and jumpy, Randy Orton comes through the window, hitting it accidentally causing it to slam, jumping everyone's hearts for a beat, "Where the hell are they! Are we having our little meeting tonight or what!?" He slams open the window.
"We don't wanna use knives and guns. The guys in my comic don't."
"Comic book heroes are just that, comic book heroes!"
"I dunno, Batman is pretty cool." Jericho started to sing the Batman song.
"It's no wonder I can't find a good man." Trish looked around the room.
Jericho smirked, another opening, "Finding a good man isn't the problem, your ugly face is."
"It must be getting late, the little boy is getting tired. He can't even make up a good cap."
"Let's see you make one up better sis."
"Don't relate you to me!"
"You were the accident of the family, I guess that's a hereditary gene."
"At least I've had sex."
"Meh."
"Meh?"
"I stand by my remark."
"Bang, bang!" Eugene imitates Cactus Jack.
"Lay off the crack, Jerko." Orton slaps Jericho upside the head, then kicks Eugene's comic to the floor. "Down with a teenage hoodlum and a slow witted toddler."
"Now I lost my page." Eugene opens it back up. "Oh no wait I remember this part, he's attacked by the ray gun. See if we could fly, then we wouldn't have a problem."
Jericho looks over, "Eugene, we can fly, don't you watch cartoons?"
"We can!?"
"Yea, just jump out the window."
"You're high enough to fly Jericho, but the kid's a blockhead, he'd fall to the ground face first." Orton shut down the computer.
Jericho gasped, "OH!"
Just then someone else slams up through the window, "I'm here!"
"Ah!" Everyone cries out and there's a moment of silence.
Edge looks around, "What?"
Orton growls, "What the hell is wrong with you!?"
"I figured I'd come anyway, nothing on tv." Edge shrugged.
"What about Christian?" Eugene asked.
"We aren't joined at the hip!"
"That's what I thought." Orton smirked. "Seeing as how he was on Raw before you were."
"Hey!" Edge stands up.
"Chill out." Jericho got between them.
"Stay outta this and lay off the crack Jerk…."
"Don't even finish." Jericho holds up a finger.
"Listen." Edge jumps him. "I can kick your ass twice before you hit the ground."
"He can remain in the air, he's high remember?" Eugene cuts in and everyone laughs.
"Hey!" Jericho growled.
"HEY!" Everyone gasps and turns around as Eric Bishoff enters and turns the light on. "What the hell is going on!? Why are you in my room and not your own!?"
"I don't suppose 'because' would suffice?" Jericho stepped up, gulping.
"Didn't McMahon imply a curfew?"
"Yea, but we're not kids." Edge eyed Jericho and Eugene. "I can't speak for them though."
"Hey!" Jericho was over the top now.
"We're gonna have a meeting with SmackDown here Uncle Eric." Eugene smiled.
"Oh really."
"To decide on a battle date and time to start, oh and what weapons we use! But I don't wanna use any cause I'm scared."
"Look, all we're going to do is meet up with JBL and some of his guys." Orton stepped forward.
"Weapons? Come on, couldn't you guys just fight in the ring like normal people?"
"Come on and get with it, you've been denouncing our rivalry this whole time. You can't say that you didn't see all this coming, they have to be stopped and you know it."
"Yea but a war…"
"Don't start boss."
"Orton…"
"Eric…"
"When I was your age…"
"When you were my age, yea like you can even remember."
"Hey." Now Bishoff's boiling point rose.
"It doesn't matter what our age is or what generation we grew up in, what does matter is what's going on right now. The sooner we start it, the sooner it ends. Plain and simple math, Eric, even you had to learn that in dinosaur school."
Bishoff sighed, puffing out his cheeks with rage, "Fine, I'll go dig your graves, but that's all, I won't pay a dime for your tombstones."
"Pizza? I can help you dig." Eugene stood up. "I like to get dirty."
"Oh!" Jericho beamed. "You hear that Trish? You found a perfect match."
"Jericho, open that big mouth again and you'll be eating those words." She shook her fist.
"Just like you open your mouth to…."
"Don't you dare say it…!"
He just opened his mouth, "Ah!" Trish fumed.
Bishoff sighed, "When are you ever going to grow up and stop fighting?"
"She grew up long ago." Jericho pointed to Trish.
"Yea, he's still got the brains of a child… if one at all." She put her hands on her hips.
"I bet I'm smarter than you." Eugene taunted Jericho. Just then there was a bang, everyone looked up to see Triple H finally arrive with Victoria.
"Hey Trips." Edge smiled.
"Are they coming?" Orton asked.
"Chill out. Hey Eric, is Flair here?"
Bishoff blinked, "No Triple H, I haven't seen him all night. Then again, I didn't attend the dance. Stupid idea."
"Yea, yea it was." Triple H cleared his throat. "Anyway, is it cool if we use your hotel room? You like to keep out of these things and the hotel is neutral territory."
Orton spoke up when Bishoff was silent, "What do you think they'll ask for H?"
"Oh, a rubber hose maybe!" Eugene jumped up.
Triple H sighed, "Cool it I said."
"Hey look who finally arrived." Victoria turned to Batista as he came through the window along with Lita.
"They're coming any minute now." He informed.
"Bam." Eugene punched the air.
"Oh oohh!" Victoria and Lita were getting giddy
Lita turned to Trish, "Hey skank, in the team yet?" Victoria laughed at the angry Trish.
Jericho turned to Trish but Edge cut him off, "Lay off the crack…"
"Enough!" Triple H spoke sharply.
"No Trips." Orton said. "We're in a tight spot, you need every man you can…"
"Now when the SmackDown guys come in, you girls get out." Triple H wasn't listening.
"We might, then again we might not." Lita wore a tough face.
"This isn't a game." Batista replied.
"And Victoria and I aren't kids either, that's why we're in the gang. Isn't that right Vic?"
"That's right Li, thank you."
"And you can lay that in the glue, period."
They giggle as Orton turns to Triple H, "Why did we even admit girls to the gang?"
"Cause we're tough, beautiful, and smart." Victoria posed.
"We've got important business coming." Edge turned to Lita.
"Making trouble for SmackDown." Bishoff chimed in.
"Hey, they make trouble for us." Jericho remarked.
"Look, he almost laughed when he said it. For you, Chris, trouble is nothing abnormal."
"You wanna talk abnormal…" Jericho began, but Trish covered his mouth.
"We've got to stand up to SmackDown, Eric, you know how important that is." Triple H approached him.
Bishoff sighed, dropping his arms to his side, "Fighting over territory? Come on, you're acting like you're from South Central here."
"Well, that's not how it is to us." Edge pointed out. "Maybe to Jericho and Victoria though."
"I'm from New York." Jericho frowned. "Not LA."
"Same thing." Lita shrugged.
"See, dumb broad." Orton pointed at her. "What did I tell you?"
"You are nothing but hoodlums, is what you are." He turned to go.
Eugene ran to stop him, "No uncle, don't go tell me on mom that I'm a hoodlum!"
"Easy, Eugene." Triple H pulled him off. "Save it for SmackDown."
"He may be our GM, but he can't relate, he doesn't understand cause he's not in the loop with what we want." Orton folded his arms.
"I wear my hat like this, and everyone thinks I'm a gangster." Eugene takes off his cap.
"I swear, the next time you say 'hoodlum'…" Orton begins to tense.
"You'll laugh, yea." Triple H snaps sarcastically, then turns back to everyone. "Now you all better be in with this. No matter who says what, no matter who does what, you show that you're a Raw superstar, but if you tell anyone about all this, you're a dead man. You're digging your own grave without Bishoff's help." He turns to Trish by the stereo. "You want music? Then play it." He hits it
and music plays.
"Cool, it's live." Jericho smiles at the tunes.
"Hey." Triple H gets in his face. "You're in, open up wide and stick to it."
Jericho stands up, "I wanna get even just as much as everyone else does!"
"Just be cool."
"I wanna bust some heads in!"
"Just do it cool."
Jericho starts to sing:
Go cool boy
Be cool
Pull your fists from our pockets
We're decked out in red
Strike like a rocket
Boy, crazy boy, play it cool
Keep it easy and lay low
If you don't stay calm
Then our cover will blow
Just play it cool
Be cool
Don't buzz
Just flow with the breeze
Easy as it does
Just play it cool boy, play it cool
"That's taking it easy Chris, easy and cool." Triple H smirks, chuckling to himself.
Everyone nods as the music changes to another song, and as it does, Christian jumps through the window and whistles. Everyone turns except Triple H and Victoria. There's a pause, then JBL, Orlando and the Basham's enter the window, thudding it so that it eventually falls shut once Doug makes his way in behind Danny. Triple H taps Victoria and she leaves with Lita. Trish is still back by the stereo, she looks at Triple H with a pleading face but he motions for her to go, so she slinks past them all and out the door. Victoria and Lita ignored Bradshaw, but when Trish past him, she shoved him.
Bishoff comes back in, "I take it that the girls left that the SmackDown boys are here."
"Let's set this up Eric, get the boys a drink." Triple
H instructs.
"Let's just get down to business." JBL takes off his hat.
"JBL hasn't learned the true luxuries of being a champ I see."
"I don't think you're good either, so cut to the chase."
"Alright then, forget them Eric."
Bishoff turned around, "Guys, please, couldn't you make talk it out somewhere else….?"
"Forget it!" Triple H barks. "Just go." Bishoff leaves as Triple H and JBL meet in the middle, each superstar there standing behind their champion. "We challenge you to a rumble." He shoots a glance at Eugene, and he sees and chooses not to start in. "We're in, are you? This is gonna be all out, for all the marbles." He shot Eugene another glance, but he was staring at the floor. He looked back up at JBL, "Do you accept?"
JBL rubbed his chin thinking, "What are the conditions?"
"Whatever terms you're calling by. You've crossed the line one too many times, and I can speak for everyone here and away that we're sick of it."
"You started it."
"Who jumped Eugene, huh?"
"Who jumped me as soon as Farooq left the APA?"
"Who asked you to choose greed over friends? You're a lousy SmackDown champion, and that's saying something because SmackDown is lousy to being with."
"Well… who asked you!?"
"You did." Jericho growled.
"Chris." Triple H held up a hand. "Stay outta this."
Jericho pouted, "I just think that if they're happy where they are, they shouldn't complain and stay where they are, rather than trying to run people out of territory or loot and cause crimes, like jumping Eugene."
"We accept." JBL finally blurts out.
Triple H nods, "What time?"
"Tomorrow?"
"Where?"
"Under the highway." JBL extends his hand.
Triple H shakes it, "Weapons?"
"Weapons…?"
"You call."
"Your challenge."
"Oh?" Triple H cocked an eyebrow. "Afraid to call?"
"Anything."
"Anything?"
"Anything you can get, anything we can get, it's no holds barred, an all legal no go."
Flair nods, "That sounds fine. We'll even bring a kitchen sink." They stare at him. "What?"
"Whatever. You could brink a chicken coup if you wanted, throw spoiled eggs."
"You calling us chickens? We'll throw you in the oven and cook you on 400 degrees for 45 minutes." It was Jericho that time, everyone turned to him. "What!?"
"You obviously know nothing about cooking." Orlando smirked.
"Oh yea and you do?" Jericho muttered under his breath. "Pansy."
Flair continued, "Looks like the tough big boys are soft. Are you afraid to come over here and let your fists do the talking? Are you afraid of the pain so you just throw words?"
"I could throw garbage. Royal Rumble!" Eugene smiled, but Triple H shot him a look.
"So."
"We're talking weapons."
Flair spoke up, "A fight can be won only through a fair fight. We're willing to put it all on the line, only if you have the guts to take the same risk that is. We all fight, everyone, and the best of the best will remain standing and reveal what brand deserves to be true in the WWE."
JBL turned to Flair, "I'd enjoy taking that risk. Alright then, we'll fight fair."
"What!?" Orlando gasped.
"No!" Orton growled at the same time.
Triple H frowned, "Only the champions say yes or now." He turned to JBL. "So we fight fair." They shook hands.
JBL turned to Flair, "I know it'll be hard for you old man, you'd last two minutes less than a fish outta water."
"We'll start with our best man vs. your best man, end with the champions in the street fight." Triple H patted Batista on the shoulder.
"But I thought it would be…"
"We shook on it Bradshaw."
"Yes, I shook on it."
Orton spoke quickly, "Look JBL, if you wanna change your mind, maybe we all should…"
Christian, standing by the cracked open door suddenly whistles and instantly everyone mingles closely, showing no sign of separation. There's silence as Bishoff comes in being followed by Shane McMahon. Every superstar is quiet and stands still.
"So you're all still here? I'm sorry Shane I had no idea, we were all just finishing up for the evening." Bishof laughs.
Shane takes a can of beer from his mini bar, "Do you mind?"
"No I don't, mi casa es su casa… apparently." He shot a glance at the superstars.
Shane popped it open and looks around, "I have this silly little fetish about never drinking strait out of the bottle or can. Do you have a glass anywhere by you?" Triple H looks around, JBL eyes him. "No? Oh well. Looks like you were having a little party, thought you might have some left, heh. But, ah, I've got to speak in private with Mr. Bishoff if you don't mind." There's a slight pause. Triple H nods to Raw, as JBL does to SmackDown and they slowly leave. Christian whistles to himself as he creeps in the back to close the window, then follows the others out. Shane smiles pleasantly once they're all gone. "From their tone I'm sure things are peachy around here. So, ahem, when's the rumble gonna be?" Bishoff is silent, he just blinks. "Come on, you know I know. So where is it going to be?"
"I wouldn't know."
Shane smirks, "Oh well, maybe some other time then?" He gets up. "Thanks for the drink." He leaves and Bishoff sighs.
"Forget him." The voice startles him, but it's only
Flair. "From here on out, it's my way or the highway." He helps Bishoff clean up his messy hotel room.
"Do you think it'll really be a fair fight?"
"Yea."
"What have you been up to? You were missed earlier, so I take it you aren't close on terms right now?"
"No, no, it's not that, its' just…. Well, can I tell you a secret? I've been taking a little trip at night to visit someone."
"Who is he?"
"Not he, she."
Bishoff smirked, "So, that's why you made it a fair fight." Flair smiled. "As if things aren't tough enough as it is, eh Ric?"
"Tough? Come on Bish, I'm in love."
"Oh? And how do you know this harlot isn't like all the rest you use as currency?"
"Because, that's another way I feel, this feeling I've been searching for, for so long, and finally now I've found it. Maybe I can't explain it, I just figured you might understand."
"And you're not at all worried?"
Flair opened the door after finishing cleaning, "Should I be?" He closed it behind him.
Bishoff sighed as he looked around his now clean room, "Why not, I guess I'm frightened enough for the both of us…" He went onto his bed and turned out the light.
DARKNESS!