It's been a couple months since I update this because I just could not get into a crack mood. Well, I'm glad I got back to it finally! I hope some of your are still reading this. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last. I hope you enjoy this. Some of the things in here were inspired from my wild and crazy friends. Lol.
Death to Het
Chapter 11: The Chickens Are In My Pants
"Now listen here." Shawn growled. He had been watching Hunter and Underhardy Lord of Skittles arguing with each other for far too long and he was highly annoyed. The small blond wedged himself between the two larger men and shoved them apart, both of them still hurling stupid insults and threats. Underhardy threatened to tombstone Triple H from a thirty foot ladder. Now that would not be a good thing, at all. "I'm tired of you two fighting!" Shawn barked. "We all keep getting way too distracted. Don't you idiots remember that we have a job to do? We have a mission!"
Shawns' blue fiery gaze bore into each man in turn, and they both dropped their heads in shame.
"Now, make up." Shawn demanded, scooting out of the way and watching as the two of them stalled. "Sometime before the rest of my hair falls out please?" Shawn rolled his eyes.
"We better hurry up then." Mark smirked.
"HEY!" Shawn waged a finger at him, glaring.
"Fine." Underhardy sighed, pushing some of his colorful hair out of his face. "Triple Asshole, I'm sorry for fighting with you. Kind of. Not…really."
The Enigmatic Phenom offered his hand reluctantly and just as begrudgingly Hunter took it shaking it with the enthusiasm of slash Cody Rhodes in a female strip club, because clearly, slash Cody would be highly confused at the numerous boobs wagging around the place.
"Alright you genetic freak of nature. I'm sorry too for um, fighting."
"And?" Underhardy shouted.
"I'm sorry for blowing you up and therefore causing you to get mutated with Jeffs' DNA from his pinky finger. "From the bottom of my heart, Markfro—I'm sorry."
"Markfro?" Underhardy and Shawn both asked both raising their brows with the question.
"Yeah." Hunter shrugged. "Mark and Jeffro…Markfro."
Underhardys' expression clearly morphed into that of a pissed off Undertaker.
"Do not call me Markfro, or I will shove you in a coffin and then Swanton your ass, and THEN my brother will burn you alive!" Underhardy bellowed.
"Wait, whose going to burn me alive Kane or Matt…cause you know--"
"Enough!" Shawn hollered. "We need to get to work. We have a big abduction lined up for today." Shawn pulled out a small notebook from his back pocket and flipped through it. "Het Triple H, Steph-O-Mac, and Jericho."
"Ew!" Triple H shuddered, feeling creepy crawly all over. "Stephanie is so fucking gross. I don't know how my het-self can bed that. Ugh!"
Shawn sympathized, patting his partners shoulder.
"It's okay Tripsy, we'll take care of all three of them. The only thing worse than Stephanie and Hunter is Stephanie and Jericho. I wanna slap a kitten every time I see that pairing."
"Well, lets stop talking and get going then." Underhardy growled. "Oh, wait guys. Lemme go put my face paint on first. I have to look presentable ya know." Underhardy bounded away and locked himself in the bathroom. Shawn grumbled and sank down onto the couch.
"Why do I get blamed for everything, why?" Hunter started in, turning his face towards Shawn, the saddest puppy dog look in his eyes.
"Hunt, that's a very easy question to answer." Shawn patted his knee. "Because EVERYTHING IS YOUR FAULT!"
Triple H fell quiet and leaned back against the couch cushions.
*******
"Hey!" Slash Chris Jericho ran down the street dragging Christian behind him. "There they are!" He panted, finally catching up to slash Shawn, H, and…what looked to be a very large, pissed-off looking version of Jeff. Chris stopped and blinked.
"What are you lookin' at Canada?" Underhardy growled to Chris, who shrank back into Christian.
"I wasn't looking at anything. It was Christian!" Chris shoved the younger blond forwards as he protested.
"What do you two want?" Hunter asked as Shawn tried to shush them all.
"I heard you guys were hunting down my het-self and I wanna see!" Chris hopped up and down excitedly. "I don't like that guy. He's a real assclown." He added, his face puckering into a displeased scowl.
"Guys, quiet!" Shawn waved his hand trying once again to shush them.
"Jericho, take Christian and go home. We don't need you messing up our plans." Underhardy put in. Chris frowned.
"I'm not the one that's trying to impersonate Jeff Hardy, and doing a very poor job of it." Chris snorted.
Underhardy took one huge step forward and leaned over Chris, his dark shadow falling over the blond man.
"Guys! No more fighting!" Shawn was once again between Underhardy and someone else. "Listen Chris, don't piss him off. He's in a bad mood because he got blown up, remember? Well, Jeffs' finger became involved and now Mark is part Jeff."
"Huh? Jeffs' finger became involved…what?" Christian blinked, confused.
"Just go with it." Hunter advised.
"You two can hang around if you be quiet. We're stalking here. We need silence." Shawn ducked down behind a bush and watched the house they were nearest too.
"Stalking huh? You should call up the TNA musi and ask for Angle." Christian put in. Chris stepped on his toe.
The five of them hid away behind a row of shrubs and watched the house for what seemed like hours. Underhardy had his urn stashed under his arm as usual and started to pop candy into his mouth—he'd started to full his urn full of Skittles as a habit. Jericho whined because he couldn't have any, and Underhardy threatened to make slash Jericho a human—well a muse—sacrifice on a flaming Hardy Boyz symbol. Chris pouted and Christian petted him offering to buy him as much candy as he wanted later.
"You know Jericho, I thought you were with Matt now." Hunter whispered.
"Sometimes. I'm with Christian this week." He answered, attempting to be sneaky and steal some of Underhardys' Skittles.
"You're going to get yourself maimed!" Christian hissed, knocking Chris' hand away before his fingertips could crawl over the lip of the urn.
"Gee Chris. You were with Matt, and now you're with Christian 'this week'?" HHH shook his head. "You're a whore!"
"Hey! I'm not Cody Rhodes!" Chris defended, his voice rising in pitch. "I just like variety!"
It was Christians' turn to frown now, not really pleased with Chris' remark.
"What is this Chris, Baskin Robbins?"
"Ice cream!" Chris whipped his head from side to side looking all around. "Where!"
Hunter laughed.
"You don't need any, Chubby." Triple H reached over and patted Chris' belly, earning a hateful sneer.
"At least when I eat it doesn't all go to my nose!" Chris shouted. "That thing is so huge it has fuckin' love handles!"
"JERICHO!"
"Shut up!" Shawn called.
For a while, the group was silent again. But it didn't take long for boredom to set in once more. Chris was in Christians' lap making out with him and Christian was groping at his moobs and ass as Underhardy watched with an unsure expression, partially intrigue and partially disgust.
"Whats' wrong?" Shawn asked, noticing Underhardy with tears in his eyes.
"I—I don't know what I am anymore." He sniffled.
"Don't worry Marky Mark, we'll get you back to normal. I promise." Shawn took Underhardys' hand and squeezed it, smiling at the chipped, painted nails.
"I don't even know if I like men anymore. I have het blood in me now, from Jeff, I'm tainted. I'm so conflicted!" Underhardy wailed, leaning on Shawns' shoulder.
"Hey, shhh calm down…" Shawn felt a bit awkward, but tried to offer comfort.
"Hold me!" Underhardy cried. Shawn wrapped his arms around the big man, and then was promptly pushed away. He tumbled back into the grass looking up at Underhardy questioningly. "Ew don't touch me you fag!" He turned to Chris and Christian and yanked them apart. "And you two, stop doing that! It's—it's…nasty. And its hot! And, it's disgusting that I find it hot…yet it's really hot that I find it hot…AGH!"
"Chris, maybe you should share your Midol with Jeffark." Hunter teased.
"Why would I have Midol?" Chris asked, clearly not comprehending the joke. Triple H snorted.
"Don't call me Jeffark!" Underhardy screamed.
"Okay then. I'll call you Marf."
"It's Underhardy, Lord of Skittles!" The rainbow-haired deadman pouted, stomping his feet.
"Hunter, just let him be!" Shawn said, trying to calm the poor guy. "Look Hunter, I'm going to take Mark—erm…Underhardy back home. You stay here with Chris and Christian and bring het Hunter, Steph, and Chris back home." Shawn fished out a walkie-talkie and handed it to Triple H. "Keep in contact with me at all times, using this. Kay?"
Triple H nodded and Shawn led a sobbing Underhardy away.
******
Hours seemed to pass by as they waited for the het musi to come out of the house. Chris and Christian had sex on the front lawn, and Hunter recorded it on his phone and put it on Youtube, unbeknownst to either of them. The best part was when Christian started to fuck Jericho with a yard gnome…or was that the worst part? Triple H had even tried to entertain himself by prank-calling Shawn with the walkie, but somehow, Shawn just KNEW that it was him. It was kinda creepy, Hunter thought to himself.
Anyway, they were all getting bored and were thinking of leaving, or maybe closing their eyes and playing 'whose in my mouth' when the distinct sound of a door was heard. The three of them cowered behind the bushes and peeked out, seeing their het targets exiting their house. HHH fumbled with his walkie-talkie immediately.
"This is Toucan to Kitten. Come in Kitten!" Hunter gasped, his excitement overwhelming him. There was some static, and then a hesitant reply.
"Hunter? What the hell are you doing?"
"This is Toucan to Kitten! The chickens are leaving the coop! I repeat, the chickens are flying the coop!" Hunter latched his talkie onto his belt loop and nodded to Chris and Christian. The three of them flew out from the bushes, each tackling one—Hunter and Chris both tackling their het-selves as Christian took on Stephanie, who raked at his eyes and kicked him in the groin.
"Get her!" Hunter yelled as he restrained his het-self by Pedigreeing him into the sidewalk. Seeing Christian in the fetal position, clutching his goods, slash Triple H ran after Stephanie. She turned back and glanced at him.
"What about Chris!" She wailed.
"Huh?" Slash H looked confused.
"Honey, they still have Chris!" Oh, so Stephie-poo thinks I'm her het Hunter. Triple H smirked, and as Stephanie ducked behind a dumpster, he did too.
"Oh sweety! I can't believe they got Chris!"
Fighting off the urge to throw up, slash HHH curled his arms around Stephanie and held her, her chest rapidly rising and falling as she panted from running.
"That's okay Snot Muffin! You'll be seeing him again very, very soon." Hunter tucked her under his arm and carted her back to his comrades as she screamed and yowled like an enraged feline.
He sat her on her feet, and slash Chris promptly Codebreaker'd her.
"Damn!" Slash Chris rolled his eyes. "I hate it when people run their mouths non-stop. What a jibber-jabbing little parasite."
"You hate it when people run their mouth all the time?" His het-self snarled, trying to get up, but his back was paining him too much from The Slash Walls of Jericho.
"Shut up. You disgust me, parasite!" Slash Chris grimaced, kicking his het-self in the face. "And I am much, much better looking than you." He added, turning to Christian for confirmation, as the other blond finally got back up to his feet. He limped over to Chris and pulled him in for a hug.
"Of course you are baby." He gasped.
"Shawn—I mean er--Kitten!" Hunter yelled excitedly into the walkie. "The chickens are in my pants!"
"What?" Shawns' voice crackled.
"I said, the chickens are chewing the bubble gum!"
"Hunter, what the hell are you doing using some stupid code? We didn't make up a code. Speak English, you sound like you're trying to speak in Wingdings or something."
The three slash musi exchanged glances of confusion.
"Wingdings?" Christian asked.
"I dunno." Chris shrugged. "I think it's for blind people or something."
"Listen Kitten, the chickens are--" Hunter started again, but was quickly interrupted with a shout from the walkie.
"HUNTER! The farmer is about to throttle the damn chicken, pluck it, and cook it for dinner! Get your ass home if you have the hets. Over and out!"
"Will do!" Hunter chirped happily. "Over and under! I mean, out and in. Um…ten-four."
The slash musi dragged their next victims back home to Shawns' basement, and waited impatiently for them to revive. The fun was just beginning.
Next chapter…I can't say how long it will be before I update again. Depends on what the musi are doing and what state of mind I'm in lol. Next chapter, more fun with het HHH, Jericho, and Stephanie. Heehee *evil laughter*