"That was not my fault!"
"Batista? What are you doing here?" Randy questioned, clutching his suitcase as if he was about to clobber the intruder with it.
"I dunno, I was just looking for a hotel and hey, here's one!" the former World Heavyweight Champion replied.
"Wait a minute...how did you get past security?" Triple H glared.
"I dunno, it was pretty easy - I just walked in!"
"You know what this means, right?" Shawn asked, standing.
"That Batista is really light on his feet?" Kurt joked.
"No! That we can get out of here! C'mon Hunter, let's go!" Shawn hurried.
"It's ok Batista being able to get in, but it's another story you two being able to get out." Randy stated.
"How d'ya mean?" Hunter responded.
"Randy's right, after all, Vince will have told all of the police and army to keep on red alert for you two!" Kurt agreed.
"You'll never make it out of here." Mick Foley replied grimly.
"If we don't try, we'll never know; c'mon Hunter!"
"Hang on Shawn. If we are gonna do that, we should do it at the dead of night, not while it's still vaguely light."
"Good point." The heartbreak kid nodded.
"Besides, if we make it out of the hotel, it doesn't mean we can make it out of Detroit or the whole country." Hunter muttered.
"We need to find out where McMahon is stationed." Shawn sighed.
"I heard that he was in Detroit's town hall. That might just be a rumour though." Mick told.
'A little bit suspicious...' Kurt mused 'How would Foley, of all people, know that?' However, he kept his cynical thoughts inside his head...for now.
Meanwhile, Carlito and Undertaker were about to settle down for the night.
"Night boys, here's a blanket in case you get cold!" the drunk prison officer mocked, slinging the thin, worn rag to Carlito.
"Bastard." Undertaker murmured.
"Wow, one blanket between two of us." Carlito gasped sarcastically.
"I'm not sharing with you! Your afro will get up my nose!"
"If it comes to that, I don't wanna be sharing with a corpse! I take dibs on the blanket!"
"What gives you the rights to it?" Taker clenched his fists.
"The guard threw it to me! What are you, blind?"
With that, Carlito was grabbed by the neck and given a chock slam to hell! Undertaker rolled his eyes as he wrapped the blanket around only half of his muscular body. "Rest...in...peace!" he teased, glancing over at the unconscious Carlito.
Back in room 747, Shawn and Triple H are about ready to make their escape. They had changed their clothes and tried to disguise themselves as best as possible.
"What time is it Shawn?" Hunter questioned.
"Ten minutes to two."
"I think now's the time. Orton, if anyone asks, you are in charge, got it? Here are the keys!" Hunter told, tossing the room keys into the hands of the 26 year old.
"Thanks." he nodded cautiously.
"We're gonna get to the bottom of this if it's the last thing we do!" Shawn spoke, finding a new lease of confidence.
'It may well be...' Foley pondered.
"Guys; good luck." Kurt sincerely spoke, as the men waved goodbye and lurked into the distance.
Waiting until they closed the doors, Foley began to speak. "They'll need all of the luck they can get!" Shuffling in his pocket, Randy, Kurt and Batista shot each other a concerned expression.
"What do you mean by that?" Kurt asked, watching Mick drag a walkie talkie from his pocket. "Oh my God..."
"Mr. McMahon? Yeah, this is Foley, the traitors have just left the room...Who's with me? Let's just say, three very unlikely allies of D Generation X!..OK...talk later...bye!"
"You bastard!" Batista seethed.
"How the fuck could you do that?" Orton raged.
"Easily...Vince is paying me a hefty sum for doing his dirty work." Foley smirked.
"It's true what I said on Raw a few weeks ago!" Kurt gasped. "You really are Mrs Foley's fat, hairy prostitute!"
"Come, come now Kurt that was a little...low, don't you think?"
"No way!"
"You know, you might not like what I've done but you'll all hate me just that little bit more later!"
"How come?" Kurt quizzed.
"Mr. McMahon has requested that I report back to him who the three men are in this room. Now, I don't want to do it..."
"Of course not!" Randy sneered sarcastically.
"But, if I feel the need to, well, it's gonna happen! It's not too late for you to join us, if you want to. I'll let you mull it over while I'm in the bathroom." Mick scoffed.
"Twat!" Randy scorned.
"We are all sticking together...right?" Kurt asked, staring at the other two men.
"Of course." they both nodded in unison.
"Great, well, I have a plan..." Kurt began to whisper as the three men huddled together.
Elsewhere, Shawn and Triple H were creeping down the deserted corridors of the hotel, not speaking loudly for fear of being heard by the enemy.
"C'mon, there's the fire exit...there won't be anyone guarding that, right? There's no electrical equipment to set alight!" Shawn suggested.
"Dammit, it's locked!" Hunter scratched his head.
"I have an idea...if we set of the fire alarms, everyone will have to come out of the hotel, right? So, if we do that, the guards will be too preoccupied with that, we could escape easily!"
"Good. Let's do it!" Hunter agreed, as the alarms started to blare over the tanoy system.
"Huh?" Randy shot his head up. He had just gotten off to sleep.
"C'mon, it's a fire alarm." Batista spoke, dragging his former team mate to his feet.
"Great!" Foley scowled "You three stick with men, you understand?"
The three men followed Foley down to the vast gardens of the hotel. The chills of the night sky shooting down their spines. 'I sure hope Shawn and Triple H are ok!' Kurt thought to himself.
"Thank God!" Shawn mumbled as himself and Triple H scampered into the darkness.
"We aren't out of the woods yet." Triple H advised.
"I know. Was it me or was Foley acting...weird?"
"No different to normal!" Triple H chuckled. "What? The guy plays with a sock puppet that he keeps in his pants!"
"He was hiding something. How come he would know where McMahon was stationed, huh?"
"I seemed a little suspicious, I have to admit."
Back at the hotel, everyone was now allowed back in after the false alarm.
"You three, looks like you've all got to share that bed for tonight!" Mick stated, pointing at the king size bed. He saw unease plastered across the men's faces. "Unless you want me to tell Mr. McMahon of your where abouts?"
"No, no, of course not!" the other three mumbled incoherently.
"Who should go in the middle?" Randy questioned.
"You!" Batista demanded.
"Why me?"
"Coz you are the weediest!" Kurt spoke, shoving him under the covers.
"You won't get up till I say so in the morning, you understand? Now, if you excuse me, I'm going for a quick shower. Oh and, by the way, I'll expect an answer as to whether you three are with or against Mr. McMahon in the morning, got it?" Foley ordered. The other three men waited until he was locked inside the bathroom and the water running fast until speaking.
"Why do we have to listen to that over weight dork?" Randy quizzed.
"It's all apart of our plan, don't worry!" Kurt encouraged.
"Strange that he wanted us all in the same bed though!" Batista muttered.
"Yeah. He's more like a pimp than a prostitute!" Kurt laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
But for just how long would he be laughing for?
Next time on 'Honey, we are marooned!'...
Does Kurt's plan work? What happens to HBK and the Game? Will Carlito and Undertaker come to a mutual understanding?
Check back for more, soon!
I would just like to say thank you to everyone who is reviewing this. It's great to know that you are enjoying it so much! The next update should come either Saturday or Sunday.