O.O Whoa. Damn. Wow. 15 reviews for one chapter? And five favorites? Ten alerts? Da-AMN. That's more than I expected. I hope all you wonderful people like this chapter as much as the last, and I hope you'll continue to grace me with your comments. :D
OK, I hope this chapter is funny. My brothers thought Rey in this story was positively hilarious. I thought, at the very least, he's so cute it hurts. Enjoy and please review!
General Manager of Smackdown, Theodore Long, had decided—at the last minute, of course—that he needed a vacation. If he didn't get away soon, all these obnoxious wrestlers would drive him insane. He was sure of that. Thus, he had gone to Mr. McMahon—rather nervous, naturally—and asked for some time off. Say, a week. Maybe a month. Or possibly forever. Personally, Long liked the sound of the latter.
Shocking everyone in the WWE who knew Vincent Kennedy McMahon, the Chairman had—albeit begrudgingly—allowed Long a week off. Teddy Long had been gone before you could say "lucky bastard".
And in his place, Vince had appointed General Manager of Raw and his Executive Assistant, Jonathan Coachman. Personally. Meaning there was no escape for Coach.
And so, Jonathan Coachman sat in Teddy Long's office, typing randomly on his laptop, bored. It had turned out to be a rather uneventful day for Smackdown, and there had been no part for him to play in the day's script.
Thus, he was dying of boredom.
But that wouldn't last long.
Very suddenly, startling Coach, the door to the office opened. Coach jumped a little, almost causing his brand-new laptop to take a potentially devastating tumble to the ground. He managed to catch it just in time, and absently put it aside, his eyes on the door.
He nearly fainted when he saw who it was.
A small boy walked in, his large eyes sparkling under a mask which looked curiously like Rey Mysterio's. He was tiny—barely half the size of Coach's leg, and Coach's bewildered mind guessed he couldn't be much older than three. The boy smiled broadly when he saw the GM of Raw, and hobbled quickly over to the sofa. Then, much to Coach's bewilderment, locked his arms around the much bigger man's leg.
"Helwo, fwend!" he greeted cheerfully, and clutched Coach's leg.
Jonathan Coachman's jaw had by now dropped open. What was a child—especially one so young—doing in here? He guessed the boy must belong to one of the superstars—how else could he have gotten in here?—maybe even Mysterio, judging by the mask. He briefly contemplated what Mr. McMahon would do if he discovered there was a child—or possibly children—wandering around, and abruptly stood, forcing his mouth shut.
He carefully pried the boy off him—his own hands seemed very big compared to the child's tiny arms, and it seemed if he held those arms to tightly he'd crush them—and kneeled. Even on his knees he had to bend a little to be eyelevel with the boy. "What's your name?" he asked, hoping if he had a name he'd be able to bring the child back to his parents.
The boy giggled. "Siwy," he said, and Coach guessed 'siwy' meant 'silly', "I Wey Mystewio!"
It took Coach a moment to translate this, but when he did his jaw dropped once more. "Mysterio?"
The boy who claimed to be Rey Mysterio nodded enthusiastically, and wrapped his minute arms around Coach's neck. "You my new fwend!" he chimed, his smile never faltering in the slightest.
"Rey?"
Coach and the child Rey Mysterio looked around, and saw another boy, this one much larger than Mysterio, standing in the doorway. He looked frantic, scanning the room. When he saw Rey, his frightened expression turned relieved. "Rey…" he said, and smiled.
Mysterio immediately released Coach, and went to the new boy. He locked his arms around the new boy, and chimed his greetings in his high-pitched, child's voice, "Helwo, fwend Batistwa!"
The other boy held Rey briefly. "What did I tell you about wandering?" he said in a would-be scolding voice, looking like he was trying to be stern.
Mysterio's smile never faltered. He turned, and pointed at Coach, who was still on his knees, mouth agape, staring at the two boys. "He my new fwend!" he said, his large eyes alight.
The other boy nodded, and said, "That's very nice, Rey, now come on—"
He was cut off by a loud wail that suddenly broke out, slightly muffled, coming from down the hall. Minutes later, yet another boy, this one with long black hair pulled behind him in a ponytail, came in the doorway. This one seemed exasperated and annoyed. "Batista, JBL pooped again," he recounted rather indifferently, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
The boy who had come in looking for Rey turned to this new boy, his back to Coach now. Coach could see a large tattoo on his back, of what looked like a dragon.
Batista, he thought, bewildered. Batista is a child, too, and probably JBL. What is going on here?
The boy with the tattoo—Batista—slapped his forehead with his palm and sighed. "Again? Oh well. Watch Rey, will you?"
The boy with the ponytail nodded, and Batista hurried off, presumably to whomever was wailing—JBL, Coach assumed.
Rey, still smiling, now hugged this new boy. "Helwo, fwend Mwatt!"
The boy only glanced indifferently down at him, and looked around at Coach. "Who are you?" he asked, not sounding particularly interested.
Coach opened his mouth to say something, but at first nothing came out. Then, finally, he heard his own voice recount his name.
"Woach!" Rey cried at once, "Fwend Woach!" He grinned and gestured behind him at the boy with the ponytail with one tiny hand. "Fwend Woach, dis fwend Mwatt Hawdy!"
Coach was not terribly surprised to hear this, but he still felt weak. "Matt Hardy?" he said in a small and shaking voice. Hardy only nodded apathetically, and glanced around at the hall. The wailing had stopped, and now Coach thought he heard muffled scolding and sniffling.
Hardy snickered. "Sounds like JBL's getting his daily lecture, eh, Rey?"
Rey looked up at him, that sparkle in his large eyes never dimming. He nodded cheerfully. "Wotally!" he agreed.
There was a few moments of silence, and Rey seemed to be getting restless. He looked around the room, smiling still, and his eyes settled on the sofa where Coach sat. Only he wasn't looking atCoach, but past Coach, at the laptop. Mere seconds after he saw it, he began hobbling toward it, without so much as a glance at Coach as he passed the bewildered GM of Raw.
He jumped onto the couch in a fashion Coach recognized as the same way he jumped onto the top rope in his wrestling matches. He sat in front of the laptop, which was on—Coach had forgotten to turn it off when he set it aside after the door opened and this very boy had walked in.
He studied the screen for a moment, his expression that an archeologist might wear after he has made what had the potential to be another important discovery. Then he began randomly pressing buttons, taking a second to giggle joyfully after the experimental pressing of each.
Coach only stared for a moment, blinking, then realized what the child was doing. "Hey!" he shouted, and lifted the small boy away from the computer. It took only one arm, and wasn't very hard—Rey was as light as he was small.
Matt looked around from his spot in the doorway, and started when he saw Rey in Coach's lap. He immediately ran to them, sparing one glance to the hall to make sure Batista hadn't come out yet.
Coach hastily shut off the laptop while Mysterio giggled in his lap. "Siwy," he said, and burst into another fit of giggles.
Matt hastily took Rey from Coach, lifting the smaller boy with only a trifle more difficulty than Coach had. "Rey!" he said, "Don't do that!"
Rey only smiled up at him. "Siwy," he repeated. The tiny boy turned and hobbled to the doorway, saying over and over, "Siwy, siwy, siwy…"
"Sorry," Matt mumbled his apology to Coach, but he kept his eyes on Rey. "He's like that. Batista usually watches him."
Coach nodded, not sure how else to respond. He hesitated, then asked slowly, "How old are all of you?" But he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
"Five."
"All of you?" Jonathan Coachman was beginning to wonder if he would faint after all.
"Yes." Hardy stuffed his hands in his pockets again, his eyes never leaving Rey.
Coach was about to say something else, but he was interrupted by Rey. "Fwend Batistwa, fwend Waybeewell!"
Matt quickly went to Rey's side, and Coach followed.
Batista, looking annoyed, was walking down the hall. Now he was accompanied by a rather stout boy, this one wearing only a diaper and a shirt that was a trifle too small. Coach was reminded absurdly of the baby in that cartoon "Rugrats".
Rey, as Coach had expected, ran to this new boy immediately to hug him. "Fwend Waybeewell!"
The boy's face twisted in disgust and he pushed the tiny boy off. "It's JBL, you freak."
Rey looked mildly confused for a moment, and then giggled. "Siwy," he said yet again, "dat's what I said! Waybeewell!"
Coach blinked. JBL in a diaper? At five years old? He covered his mouth with his hand to suppress a snort. This was getting to be rather amusing, albeit shocking. Not to mention impossible.
It was then Coach came to a decision: this had to be a dream. There was no way this could actually be happening for real. There was just no way.
Meanwhile, Batista had wrapped a protective arm around Rey's shoulder's, scowling at JBL. Matt's hands were in his pockets again, and he was looking at JBL apathetically from beside Coach, JBL himself still looking at Rey with obvious distaste. Rey had begun to hum, taking no notice of any of them.
And Coach decided he should call his boss. Dream or no dream, he could not take care of four five year old children by himself.
He would soon find out said boss was having the same trouble as he was.
So…what do you think? ;) I hope you found this amusing…
Next chapter: the rest of the wrestlers (and the divas) who have been turned into children are introduced, everyone meets, Edge gets kicked in the groin, Vince has to change a diaper, hair gets pulled, people get whacked with a spoon, a certain someone gets RKO'd, and someone else wants a smoothie.
Review and it'll be up in no time!