"I dunno man," Heath drawls one day, staring unhappily at his gear. "I'm sick'a comin' out in the same stuff day in and day out, but I dunno what to do about it." Zack's sitting in a corner of the room, playing around with his phone, and their eyes lock. "What do you think?"
The broski sighs and pockets the device, getting up and joining Heath. He examines the pants and black shirt, running a hand over his face thoughtfully. "Dolph used to slice up his shirts, maybe that could be enough of a change for you?"
Heath nods slowly, thinking it over. "Alright. How do you do it though?" Zack shrugs and the two of them stare at a pair of scissors blankly. "Would Ziggler do it for me?"
"Maybe, if I asked nicely," Zack smirks. "I'll be back."
"Uh huh," Heath says doubtfully, watching him go. "Hey! Zack, I need this done within the hour! Don't..." he groans. "... dwardle... dammit." Thankfully Zack returns with Dolph in less than ten minutes and they all look at the shirt, Dolph making a face like he's trying not to laugh. "Well, are ya gonna do it or not?" Heath finally demands, impatient.
"You're seriously gonna dress like-?" Dolph's sputtering laughter fades when Zack elbows him. "Ow! Fine, broski, I'll do it. God..." Huffing, he grabs the scissors and starts shredding the back like he and AJ used to do to their shirts, quickly losing himself in the repetitive motions and forgetting the inspiration for the deconstruction of the fabric. He's just finished, about to move to the front, when the locker room door slams shut and all of them jump, the scissors clattering to the floor.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Wade demands, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares from Heath to Zack to Dolph, to the shirt laying on the table. "Isn't that your gear for tonight?"
"Yes, it is," Heath says slowly. "It was borin', I was tryin' to spruce it some and Zack suggested maybe strippin' it like Ziggler does his shirts sometimes."
"Of course," Wade huffs, his eyes narrowing as Dolph leans over to pick up the scissors. Stepping forward, he plants his foot decisively on the blade, causing the Show Off to yelp. "Back away, Ziggler." They all watch, perplexed, as he picks the scissors up instead and turn to the shirt, examining it with a weary gaze. When he starts to shred across the fabric, it's clear Heath wants to say something but he bites his lip, waiting to see. "There." Finished, Wade turns and holds the shirt up for Heath to look at.
It's actually... decent. A little rough, sure, but all in all... "Wow, thanks, Brit," Heath mumbles, taking it from him. "This is great." He quickly puts it on and Wade examines him before snagging his fingers in the slits, tugging Heath over to him. "Hey- that wasn't the purpose for-" He shuts up when Wade grips his jaw and stares down at him. "What?"
"Next time you want someone who isn't a one of the gear designers to play with your clothes, ask me first." He quickly kisses Heath then pushes him towards the exit and follows him out, Heath's loud southern accent echoing back into the locker room as Dolph and Zack look at each other, perplexed.
"They're weird," Dolph mutters, leaning against Zack.
"No arguments here, bro," Zack laughs, kissing the top of his head.