The REAL Truth Behind and Inside the WWE Ring Chapter 8: The Underrated Drama King, a wrestling fanfic

Thanks to the VERY few people the reviewed, I was hoping for more than 2. But then again, that's better than none.

Here chapter 8. I enjoyed writing a lot of this chapter so hopefully you will enjoy reading it.

Disclaimer: I own no one. I wish I did though. That would be awesome.

Flashback:

17th April, 2005, around 8.55pm, Stacy Keibler's friend's Apartment.

"Actually, never mind." The officer said, shaking his hand, calling the search of the room off, not taking his eyes off what was in front of him.

There on the floor was what was left of a bloody and injured Randy Orton.

"Get the paramedics!" Cried one of the officers.

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17th April, 2005, around 9.30pm

An ear piercing siren quickly moved through and around the city. The traffic report helicopter for a local radio station watched the flashing blue lights swerve through all the city streets in the direction of the hospital.

At the hospital the code blue warning sirens were beeping and going off all around the emergency area. Doctors and nurses were running everywhere preparing for their newest patient who was apparently critically injured.

All of a sudden, the emergency doors burst open. Four paramedics came rushing in wheeling a highly wounded and bloody Randy Orton into the lobby. Unfortunately for the medical team, Randy had awoken from his unconscious state and was complaining and swearing continuously about his injuries. They swerved him through the hallways into the intensive care emergency room. In the room awaited several doctors surrounded by all sorts of machinery to determine if there were any potentially fatal injuries. They put him through a cat scan to make sure there were no internal injuries; they took blood samples to see if there was any blood impurity or drugs in his system and finally the doctors put him through an x-ray machine to see if he had any broken, fractured or dislocated bones.

After hours of testing, all they found were a slightly dislocated left shoulder and a few cuts and bruises. Finally, the doctors gave him the 'ok' to leave the intensive care emergency room to get washed up, bandaged up and taken to his room for a good night's sleep.

Resting happily in his hospital bed, no longer complaining about his minor injuries was the once captive, Randy Orton. Above the end of his hospital bed was a small colour T.V. which happened to be showing a repeat of the Smackdown taping that aired a few days ago. Undertaker had just gotten the 1, 2, 3; at that moment, Randy was startled as he heard someone knocking on the door which concealed him in the small, private hospital room.

But before Randy could give the 'ok' to come in, Mark Calloway barged in. Orton could see that Taker had been so worried.

"Oh Randy what happened?" He asked neurotically.

Not wanting to explain everything, he simply laughed and said smiling, trying not to sound as if he was shutting Undertaker out of his life, "Hasn't the bloody told you that yet?"

"As a matter of fact, he hasn't." Mark said crossing his arms.

"Well, ask him to." He coolly replied with a cocky smile.

"Randy, I want to hear it first hand," Taker pouted and said in a whiny voice as if he was 5.

"Fine," Randy said reluctantly as he began his long and highly detailed story of what had happened recently. (A/N: Your imagination can be put to good use in this part of the story by imagining what happened to Randy Orton in Stacy's apartment. This way, the story is an educational tale allowing little kiddies to use their imaginational skills.)

As soon as he finished his lengthy story, he was startled by more knocking at the door. This time the people outside actually waited for the 'ok' to come on in into the room. Looking out the window, Undertaker quickly whispered, "It's you parents Randy! What do I do?"

"Just pretend you're a good friend or something. Don't tell them we're together under any circumstances. Got it?" he asked.

"Got it," The Undertaker nodded as he took a seat by Randy's bed pretending to have a nice, friendly, non-queer conversation.

"Come on in," Orton yelled out to his parents waiting outside the room.

"Oh Randy we've been so worried about you! As soon as we heard the news we caught the first flight here and drove right here," exclaimed his mother as she jumped through the hospital's door running over to her 'injured baby'.

"Relax sweet heart," his father, Bob Orton Jr said, slowly gripping Randy's mother's shoulders and pulling her away from her son, reinstating the phrase, 'Personal Space' to the room. "She gets a bit over protective," he informed Mark when he finally noticed him on the chair.

"Randy, Darling, what happened to mummy's 'little Shortcake'?" She asked worryingly.

"Look, mum, it's a long story and it's getting late, and personally, I'm really worn out from today, how about I tell you some other time?" Randy asked slowly, making sure he didn't offend his mother.

Reluctantly, she slowly nodded her head in agreement and defeat, as she turned to her husband, "He's right, it is rather late, we'd better be off. We'll see you in the morning Shortcake, have a good nights sleep." She said smiling sweetly at him.

"You too mum and dad. Oh and mum, please stop calling me shortcake!" Randy pathetically pleaded with his mother who, once again, slowly nodded her head in defeat. "Thankyou, see you two later."

As soon as they had left, Randy had turned his head back to the Undertaker who was laughing his head off.

"What the hell is so damned funny?" Randy asked.

"Shortcake! Mummy's little Shortcake," Taker continuously repeated to himself, shaking his head laughing.

"Shut up," Randy yelled defensively.

"Look, it is getting late. I'd better be off too. I'll come visit you in the morning, I think the doctors are planning to start you on some rehab for your slightly dislocated shoulder," Taker laughed as he did a parody of what happened earlier when Orton was wheeled in, complaining like there was no tomorrow, "Oh God my legs! I can't feel my legs. I'm going to die man, Game Over man, Game Over!"

"Shut up!" Randy yelled defensively again, to no prevail, "I thought my legs were…umm"

"I see a white light, but I must fight it, I am strong for I am mummy's little Shortcake" mocked Taker. "Ok, ok, I'll stop," he said, looking at Randy go red in the face with anger but still laughing at his take off of what happened earlier, "look, I better be off, it's getting late."

"Yeah, you'd better go before I jump out of this hospital bed and kill you!"

"Whatever; see you later Shortcake," the Undertaker left, mocking his mother's nickname for Orton.

"You may have won the battle, but I shall win the war. I will have the last laugh." Randy said in a deep voice as if he was plotting something like the villain in a movie or show would do.

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18th April, 2005, around 10.55am, Rehab centre.

The doctors came to the conclusion that because of Randy's injury being only minor, they believed it wouldn't hurt if they started rehab. (A/N: but they were wrong. Dead wrong! Mwhahaha!) (Another A/N: I don't think you need rehab if you have a slightly dislocated shoulder but I don't care. I don't feel like being technical and accurate)

The Undertaker was watching Randy make slow progress in his rehab session from one of the rehab stands that were used for people wanting to stay and watch their loved one or family member or friend go through their rehab session. Randy's progress was going too slow though, especially for the impatient Undertaker so he decided to go down to Randy to see if he could help 'motivate' the Legend Killer.

"Come on Randy! Your shoulder was only slightly dislocated, it shouldn't hurt. Please just try stretching it!" Pleaded Randy Orton's rehab instructor.

Randy raised his forearm slightly, but dropped his arm back to his body suddenly and grabbed his shoulder with his right hand exclaiming, "Oh God it hurts!"

"Maybe the doctors haven't taken a full look at it if you're still in this much pain!" The instructor exclaimed sounding extremely worried about his patient.

Rolling his eyes, Mark stood about two metres behind Randy, and started to throw his voice, pretending to be Orton's conscious or inner voice. (A/N: When I say throwing his voice, you know people in plays and such? They throw the there voices so it travels further without increasing the actual volume of their voice.)

"Randy, Randy," Mark whispered eerily into Orton's ear which completely freaked Randy out.

"Who said that?" He said spinning around like lightning, but the Undertaker had already disappeared behind a near by curtain that had conveniently appeared. Shaking it off, he returned to his 'painful' rehab. "Ow, this hurts, I need to take five." Orton informs the frustrated but slightly concerned instructor.

"No." The man simply said.

"What? What do you mean by 'no'?"

"No as in not yet, you finish your session in 5 minutes so you don't need a break, you can wait," the instructor said sternly.

"Fine," Orton reluctantly muttered.

"Now back to 'work' because otherwise we'll have to take you back to the hospital and have the doctors take another look at your arm," the man ordered, ignoring Randy's rude remarks and comments.

When his back was turned, the Undertaker decided to play more mind games with his love.

"Randy, Randy, what are you, a tough wrestler or just an overrated drama queen?" Taker hissed, still in his eerie tone in regards to Orton's constant whinging and bickering.

Randy had begun to catch on now; he had recognised Mark's voice. "Neither. I'm an underrated drama king," he smiled as he turned around holding his shoulder, meeting face to face with the Undertaker. The remark he had just made Taker laugh,

"Hey, what ever makes you sleep easier at night Shortcake," he coolly said.

"Stop calling me Shortcake!" Orton yelled in frustration and reached for Taker's throat with his left arm.

"Hey!" His instructor yelled at Randy, the two looked over at him, "So much for your shoulder being in pain."

Randy paused for a moment wondering what on earth he meant by that. He glanced at his left arm which was still extended in the direction of the Undertaker, and then he realised. (A/N: or as my mother says: and then the penny dropped. Or as I say: and then the last horse finally crossed the finish line –but mine wasn't exactly very suited for the situation and I didn't think many would understand fully what I meant by saying mum's saying about the penny.) Suddenly Randy dropped his left arm to his side and grabbed it with his right hand and yelled out a small cry of pain. But it was too late. The gig was up. Orton had delayed his actions just a fraction too long.

"Nuts," he exclaimed in frustration, clicking his fingers. He could no longer manipulate the others around like he could before when they thought he was like super really injured.

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Now because Orton's shoulder was only slightly dislocated, in a matter of days, it was back to its old self, or so it seemed. (A/N: I hope you all realise that this LEFT shoulder thing weaves in with Randy's 'left shoulder injury' at Wrestlemania that cost him the match. Randy so should have won! But, it does have a purpose.)

Now I know the Chapter wasn't very long.

But I didn't want to ramble on forever about nothing so I decided to end it now.

I hope you enjoyed it and

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