Title- Monkey Crap
Author- Fidelis5588
Author Email- Oh, I'd guess PG to PG-13, on account 'O the language.
Disclaimer- Disclaimer: I don't own the WWE, the Undertaker, or John Cena. Sue me, and all you will get is one cranky teenager, a dusty pair of jeans, and enough skittles to feed China. Besides, if I owned either of them, I would have them locked away in my room!
Content- John Cena is stuck in the hospital, and he's blaming it on 'Taker...
Author's Notes: This is my second fanfiction. And my first try at something that's not serious. I don't know if it qualifies as humor, perhaps it's just nonsense fluff. you tell me. Read, and review. I would be abosulutely thrilled if my inbox was filled to overflowing with constructive criticism and the like.
And yes, i know it's very short. I just can't write long fics. I'll leave that to the pros.
Monkey Crap
"This is what happens when you watch too many violent movies."
Undertaker said as he stood by the hospital bed of his fellow wrestler, a playful grin on his face. "You see all those stunts, and you want to try them. And when you do, you end up busting your ass wide open." He almost laughed as he remembered the injury John Cena had taken earlier that day.
"This is all your fault man, you and ya stupid motorcycles." The man in the bed glared back crankily.
"What? I told you not to try to do a wheelie on it. They're not made for that kind of stuff."
"It was your bike! If you hadn't ridden it to work, I wouldn't have seen it and tried to do tricks with it!" John angrily turned from his laying position on his back to laying on his side, facing away from Undertaker. He yelped as he put pressure on his injury, and quickly had to roll back to his previous position. He glared at 'Taker and sulkily crossed his arms over his chest.
"By the way, I expect you to pay for new handle bars and saddlebags. Seeing as you twisted up the handles, and tore the bags to pieces."
"Just, shut your mouth." Oh, if looks could kill. Cena was absolutely livid by this point. Suddenly UT whipped out a small black box, and held it close to his face. "What the . . . "
"Now smile John, everyone is gonna see this tape."
"You fucker! You stop taping right now 'taker!" Cena struggled with his IV cords. "I swear to god I'll..."
"Sha! Is that anyway to talk. Tu tut. You've a bad mouth, Cena."
Undertaker turned the cam around, focusing on his own face for a moment. "This is what happens when you mess around with my bike..." he turned it back around and zoomed in once again on the injured man. "You end up in a bed, wearing a dress, and being given sponge baths by nurses who have more 'blemishes' than Jillian Hall!"
"Arrgh!" Cena cried, swiping at the Phenom in outright rage. The larger man chuckled and remained just a hairs breadth out of Cena's reach, infuriating the man all the more.'
"Yep, I can hear Vince now, ohh, this is gonna be one for the books," Undertaker got an evil day-dreamy look on his face. The champions shouts were drowned out by the sound of 'Takers voice.
"Yeah. Just wait until he hears the his RAW Champ is going to be out on injuries...and the night of a Supershow! Oh, and let's not forget that you stole my bike, rode it with a helmet or a license, not to mention pissed off his main event at Vengeance!" Said the Lord of Darkness, referring to how John had almost run over Hulk Hogan with the chopper. Taker was almost hysterical by now, and some nurses were starting to stare.
"Boy, you really iare/i evil!" John grumbled.
"Shh, not finished yet." 'Taker gave him a reproving look. "And last but not least, how in the hell are you going to explain ithis/i?" He whipped a color photograph out of the back pocket in his blue jeans, holding it close to John for inspection. It was a picture of a man's upper back. And all across it, besides angry red wounds from the crash, was a huge black and red tattoo. It was 'Taker's ministry cross symbol, a modified 'T' complete with gorgeous red fire accents and drawn-in stone pockmarks. John stopped cursing long enough to look at the picture. He tried to pretend that he didn't know who's back it was. "You got another tattoo? Since when would Vince care about that?" Deep down he had a nagging feeling though.
"It's not my back you nipple head! It's yours!" Undertaker ran a hand through his black hair, letting out a most unmanly giggle. "You and I were drunk, which is why you stole my bike. Also explains your bad attitude. And from the look of your back..." he clapped a hand over his mouth, looking like an insane giant escaped from an asylum. "We were really stoned." he managed to click the off button on the camcorder, and set it on a nearby table, before collapsing into a fit of guffawing laughter once more.
"Aw shit!" Cena grabbed the photo away from 'Taker, who had finally lost it. He was on the floor, holding his arms around his waist and laughing loudly. Those nurses who had been watching ran in at the sounds of Cena's anguished cries. They gathered around him, patting his shoulders and asking what was wrong. John just thrust the picture to one of them. By now, 'Taker was dying. Tears were running down the sides of his face, as he rocked from side to side on the floor, chortling with laughter. He was in stiches.
"Yeah, hon, I saw the tattoo, real nice looking on ya. Now what's.."
John cut her off, with intensified wails,"How am I going to tell Vince that I have The Undertakers symbol plastered on my ass for the whole world to see?"
"Actually, it's on your..."
"Shut up!" Cena glared at the nurse, his eyes blazing. "I hafta get outta here, before Vince fins out!" He tried getting off the bed, but he was to weak tp push himself up So he rolled off. He rolled of the bed, and unto the floor. Fortunately for him, he had a cushioned landing. Unfortunately for the deadman, he was that cushion.
"Arghh!" yelled Cena.
KRASH! THUMPH! John landed with a thud on the Undertaker's stomach.
"Oofh," grunted The Undertaker, holding his belly, yet somehow still managing to roar with laughter.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" It seems John took to long in getting out of the hospital, for there was Vince, standing in the doorway, face as red as a cherry tomato. It was a strange sight to say the least. Half a dozen nurses standing around, and the man with one of the most serious personas in the business, laying on the floor, laughing like a mad man. Add to that the fact that Cena was sprawled, belly down, across his stomach, and it was just plain bizarre. But Vincent McMahon wasn't yelling about that, oh no. He was looking with horror at John's back, which the hospital gown failed to cover completely. All the blood drained from both 'Taker's and Cena's faces. They exchanged 'We are going to die' looks with each other for a moment.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE CENA?"
"Vince, please stop yelling,"
"I WILL NOT STOP YELLING! YOU HAVE THE UNDERTAKER'S SYMBOL TATTOOED ON YOUR BACK. ON YOUR IBACK/I CENA!" This wasn't the Vincent they knew backstage, this was evil Vince, the Vince people saw on television.
"Uhh, we were drunk?"Undertaker offered meekly.
"YOU TWO ARE SO DEAD!"
The undertaker and John Cena looked at each other pitifully, gulped, and looked back up at Vince. Boy, were they in some deep monkey crap.