Oh shit and shinola! I am SO sorry this took so long. I had like the Wall of China of writer's blocks…but I finally got it done. It's pretty long, I know (fifteen pages in Word o.o;;) and I apologize about that, too. I kinda got a little carried away…XD

Anyway, this isn't a real 'ROTFLMFAO' chapter…more like a 'lol' and 'awww…' chapter. There will be a few laughs, mostly with the DX/Edge/Cena part, I suppose (my brothers damn near laughed themselves into a hernia over it, but they're easy)…and maybe the ending…-shrugs- I dunno.

Kudos to all who reviewed! I honestly never expected to get this much love…thank you all so much! Rey Mysterio gives each of you a hug!

Enjoy! XD

Coach smiled once again when his six young companions began to cheer as he pulled into the almost empty parking lot of Toys-R-Us. He glanced in the rearview mirror as he parked the van, and saw Cena, Shawn, Triple H, Randy, and Undertaker all exchange numerous high-fives. Undertaker jammed his hat on Orton's head, and then Orton turned and placed it on Cena. Cena passed it on to Shawn, who then placed it on Triple H. H then returned it to 'Taker, while they all cheered. Edge raised a hand to Coach, and Coach struck it with his own, amused.

Coach glanced out the window just as a black limousine pulled into the parking lot, followed closely by a much smaller, older car—the ones the McMahon's were driving. "The rest of them are here," he announced, and turned to look around the seat at the others. "Ready?"

"Yeah!" all six of his young companions exclaimed at once, and immediately proceeded to hastily unbuckle their seatbelts and jump out of the car.

Coach freed himself from his own seatbelt and opened his door, stepping out into the cool day. Shawn, Cena, H, Edge, Undertaker, and Randy were at his side in a matter of seconds, excitedly regarding the limo and the much smaller car which Vince McMahon and his son had driven here.

Shane was the first to emerge, followed closely by Matt Hardy, Batista, Rey Mysterio, and Rob Van Dam. Hardy looked excited for the first time, though to a much lesser degree than the others. Mysterio was jumping up and down and clapping enthusiastically, his impossibly large eyes alight, seeming unaware Batista was holding his shoulder. Batista himself was looking around at the toy store calmly, though there was excitement in his eyes.

RVD came out last, exiting the car by leaping off the seat. He flipped in the air over Batista and Rey's heads, releasing a gleeful cry. Batista glanced up amusedly as he did so, and Rey leapt up, reaching out with one tiny hand, as though to grab him as he soared over their heads. Rob landed on his feet in front of them, and turned, grinning.

There was a moment of silence. Then Shawn began to clap, cheering again. Triple H and Cena immediately followed suit, and Randy laughed and clapped as well. Undertaker regarded Rob approvingly and did the same. Batista joined them, and Rey began to clap as well, furiously, not ceasing his jumping. Rob beamed at all of them. There was slight color on his cheeks. He looked quite pleased.

"Fwend Rwob Vwan Dwam go fwying!" Rey cried, loud enough to be heard even over the clapping.

Matt came around the back of the car just as the cheering and clapping began to cease, his hands in his pockets, looking bored again. "So…are we gonna go in or what?" he inquired, looking at Batista.

Shawn looked around at Coach. "Are we, Mr. Coach?"

Coach looked around at the limo, and saw Mr. McMahon was just stepping out, a scowl on his face, eyeing the children mistrustfully. He nodded. "Yeah, go on."

Shawn and Triple H looked at each other, and wide, childish grins crossed their faces. They both pumped their fists into the air and cried out in unison, "Toys-R-Us! Toys-R-Us! Toys-R-Us!" The two whirled in the direction of the store, and began marching toward it side by side, punching at the sky and chanting the store's name.

Randy grinned at Undertaker, and 'Taker smiled back. Randy punched his fist into the air and cried, "Toys-R-Us!" 'Taker did the same, and they turned and followed Shawn and H, chanting now as well.

Cena and Edge both thrust their fists into the air and cried at the same time, "Toys-R-Us!" Upon hearing the other do so at the same time, however, they abruptly stopped, and glared at one another. Then Cena turned with a scoff, and went after the others. Edge scowled a moment, and then looked at the store. Seeming to abruptly forget all about Cena, he began chanting along with the others, and marched after them.

RVD followed as soon as they passed him, and Rey immediately copied him, chanting and giggling. Batista and Matt exchanged amused glances, and went after them, Batista beginning to chant as well.

Five-year-old DX reached the entrance to the store first, still chanting, and made to push the doors open…but as soon as Shawn and H touched the doors, they slid open by themselves.

All the chanting ceased abruptly, and ten pairs of eyes widened as they stared in awe at where the doors had been, and their owners all released an amazed, "Ohhh…"

Shawn and Triple H withdrew their hands, and looked down at them in wonder. They regarded each other, and turned to the others.

Randy, who was staring wide-eyed at their open palms, stated breathlessly: "You guys must be magic!"

"Mwagwic!" Rey cried immediately. "Fwends Wiple Wach and Swawn mwagwic!"

Triple H and Shawn looked down at their hands again, speechless. Then H's face turned sober, and he turned to the others once more, raising his closed fist into the air. "That, my friends, is the power of Degeneration-X," he declared solemnly.

Shawn did the same. "Deconseration-X," he agreed.

Triple H's frowned slightly. "Degeneration," he corrected his friend.

"Demenastration," Shawn corrected himself.

Triple H slapped his forehead with his palm and shook his head, sighing.

By this time, Vince, Shane, and Coach had reached them, and the Chairman of the WWE was not about to wait for a bunch of little vermin who thought moving doors were the work of magic. "Move your asses!" he snapped.

Shawn gasped and looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. "That's a very bad word, Mr. McSand!" he admonished.

Vince, whose face was beginning to turn red, opened his mouth to correct the small boy on what his name was, but a certain child legend-killer beat him to it.

"No, Shawn, its Mr. McMayonnaise," Randy said matter-of-factly. He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded as though to confirm this.

Cena's brow furrowed. "Mayosaize?" he questioned, slightly perplexed.

"Mayonnaise," Undertaker corrected, and Randy nodded.

"What's that?" Shawn asked, fascinated. He seemed to have already forgotten all about Vince and his vulgarity.

"White stuff you put on sandwiches," Matt, who was standing beside Batista and looking in at the store, replied, not sounding as though he cared if he was heard or not.

Triple H frowned. "Why would you put mayonnaise on sandwiches?"

Randy shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe it makes it look cool or something."

Coach smiled a little. "It adds flavor," he recounted, and they all turned to him, looking tremendously fascinated. He glanced at his boss, who was fuming by now, and quickly added: "And his name is McMahon."

Shawn frowned for a moment. "McCan?"

"McMahon. Say it with me. McMahon."

"McMahon," all ten of the child superstars echoed in unison.

Coach nodded. "Exactly."

Shawn's face lit up, and he began to jump up and down, clapping. "Yay!" he cried, "I said it right! I said it right! I said—"

This time both Cena and Triple H pounded Shawn once in the head, and he immediately silenced and dropped to the ground, and lay still.

For a moment there was silence as everyone stared down at the small, limp body of Shawn Michaels, then Cena looked up at Triple H and smirked. "Bet I can make it in faster than you."

Triple H scoffed. "You wish, Cena."

"Well, why don't we see?"

"You're on!"

And so both boys lined up on either side of Shawn, glaring at one another with burning, unwavering gazes. For a moment they remained that way, until abruptly they both began running at the exact same time, going all-out.

Unfortunately, they were so busy glaring at each other, they didn't bother to look where they were going…and both The Game and John Cena collided hard with the shelf beside the register.

For a moment, H and Cena just stood there before the display of toys they had just hit, dazed and blinking. Then Cena collapsed, followed closely by Triple H. The boxes of the toys on the shelf trembled, tipped…and avalanched right onto the two boys.

"Twimber!" Rey shouted gleefully, and fell into a sitting position onto the ground, giggling.

Shawn stood, and blinked at the sight of his two friends sprawled out on the floor buried in toys. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Why do they always do this?" he asked no one in particular.

Undertaker stepped up next to him, looking at Cena and H, frowning slightly. He turned to Shawn, looking thoughtful. "They do it for you."

Shawn blinked at him. "Huh?"

Before 'Taker could reply, however, an excited Randy jumped in between them, grabbing Shawn's arm with one hand and Undertaker's with the other, and began pulling them into the store.

"Toys-R-Us!" he cried, and the others followed close behind.

The teenage girl at the register, who had been staring and blinking at the two boys who had ran right into the shelf and now lay beneath a pile of toys, now blinked once more at the sight of eight more children file in, cheering and chanting the store's name, followed closely by three adults—two of which looked like they were ready to strangle someone.

"Wow. You guys must've been really busy," she remarked approvingly.

Vince's eye twitched, and he shot the girl a look that would have skewed her in three seconds flat if looks could kill. Before he could do something really drastic, however—like try to fire her, or put her in a match against Big Show—Shane dragged him off in a random direction, muttering some nonsense about respecting elders. Coach watched them go, and went off after the children. Someone had to watch them, after all.

…

Shawn Michaels led Triple H and John Cena by the hands, excitedly taking in his surroundings, trying to look at everything at once, entirely unaware in his excitement his two friends were burning holes in each other with their eyes. Edge followed them carefully, keeping his distance, watching Cena closely.

Shawn reached the first aisle of toys, and looked in eagerly. His smile faltered a little, and excitement turned to curiosity when he glimpsed something that caught his interest. He released H and Cena, and slowly approached it. It was perched on a shelf somewhat higher than he was, and he reached up to take it.

It was an action figure which looked vaguely familiar. He studied it, intrigued, his brow creasing. There was a name on the box below the figure, and he read aloud: "Shawn…Michaels." He gasped. "Shawn Michaels!" He whirled to look at his two companions, who were watching him curiously from the end of the aisle. "Guys! It's me!"

Triple H and Cena went to his side immediately, both with curious and mildly perplexed expressions on their faces. "Huh?"

Shawn held it out to them. "It's me! See?"

Cena shook his head, confused. "That doesn't look anything like you."

"But it's got my name on it! See?" Shawn pointed to the gold letters below the figure that spelled his name.

"Whoa," the Game murmured. "Weird."

Cena considered the toy for a moment, and gasped suddenly. "Hey! Maybe this is one of those things that show you the future!" he cried, looking both amazed and excited.

Shawn regarded the box curiously. "Like one of those crystal ball thingamajigs those creepy dudes have on TV?"

"Dudettes," Triple H corrected absently, wide-eyed and gazing at the action figure.

Shawn nodded vaguely. "Yeah. Dudettes."

Cena nodded excitedly. "Yeah! Like one of those, only a box that shows you a toy instead of a picture!"

"So this is what I'm going to look like when I'm a growed-up?" Shawn inquired, already immensely engrossed.

"Must be," Triple H whispered in awe.

Shawn appraised the toy in his hands for a moment, and made a face. "Man, I'm going to be ugly."

Triple H and Cena simultaneously opened their mouths to object, consequently making him feel better and earning the one who could do it faster points against the other, when they were interrupted by a new voice. "You look mutated."

Cena and H both whirled, while Shawn only glanced up briefly, making a face at its owner. Edge stood there, looking over Shawn's shoulder at the toy with a slight smirk, though he looked somewhat fascinated. His smirk widened when he saw H and Cena glaring at him with hostile eyes. "Ugliest thing I've ever seen, Michaels," he jeered.

"How dare you say that about Shawn!" both the Game and Cena snapped, and tackled the blond boy to the floor, lashing out at him with their fists. The three rolled around on the floor, pummeling each other, Edge screaming pathetic insults, Cena and H shouting in rage.

Meanwhile, Shawn took no notice of them, as he had witnessed this kind of behavior from the three of them numerous times before. Besides, he had seen something else which sparked his interest.

"John, Hunter!" he cried suddenly, throwing the box with the figure that was supposed to be him aside and grabbing two more from the shelf, his eyes widening. "It's you guys!"

Cena, who was just about to deliver Edge a nice knuckle sandwich, stopped suddenly, looking around at Shawn. Triple H, who was in the midst of kicking Edge in the shin, also looked around. "Huh?"

"It's you! Look!" He showed them the boxes.

Cena and The Game both leapt to their feet. "Whoa! We've got ones too?" John said breathlessly, staring at the one with his name with wide eyes.

"I guess so," Triple H replied, gaping at his own.

Cena snatched the box with his name. "But…I'm so ugly!" he cried, dismayed. "And why is my mouth open like that? Does this mean I won't be able to close my mouth?"

Shawn looked at it thoughtfully. "Maybe it means you'll be a screamer," he suggested.

Cena thought about it a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah, maybe…"

Triple H considered his own, frowning. "My mouth is open," he observed. "Does that mean I'll be a screamer, too?"

Shawn looked at his, and nodded. "Maybe."

Cena looked over at H's. "Wow, H, your nose is going to get really big," he remarked with a slight sneer.

Triple H flashed him a glare which even Vincent Kennedy McMahon Jr. could not have matched. He opened his mouth to retort, but Shawn interrupted him.

"Yeah…it is pretty big…" His brow creased slightly, and he looked at The Game thoughtfully. "Maybe you'll tell a lot of lies when you're growed-up, and you're nose will grow, like Pinocchio!" He looked suddenly excited. "Tell a lie, Hunt!"

"Uh…I like Lita?" Triple H stated uncertainly, and Edge glared at him from the floor.

Shawn momentarily made a face, and then his expression turned serious again, and he carefully considered H's nose. After a moment, he stepped back, looking slightly perplexed. "Nope. It didn't get any longer."

Cena snickered. "Maybe because that was true," he suggested, smirking.

Triple H scowled. "Yeah…for you."

Cena's eyes flashed. "I do not like that…that…ugly witch!"

Edge immediately snatched one of the boxes on the self and smacked Cena outside the head with it. "She is not a witch!" he snapped.

Shawn looked up, and gasped. "Edge! Look!" He pointed to the box in Edge's hand.

Edge glanced at him, then turned his box over, and gasped as well.

"What?" Triple H questioned, and he and Shawn went to Edge's side. Cena, scowling and rubbing the back of his head, stepped up behind Edge and looked over his shoulder at the box.

"It's…me!" Edge gasped.

"Whoa. Talk about ugly," Cena remarked rather nastily.

Edge glared at him. "You shouldn't be talking, Cena," he shot back, gesturing to Cena's box. Cena scowled once more at him.

"Why are you making that face?" Triple H inquired, looking at Edge's figure with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe you're…consipitated," Shawn whispered, his voice full of dread, looking at Edge with wide eyes.

Edge's brow furrowed. "Huh? What's consipitated?"

"It's when you really have to poop but you can't!"

Edge gasped. "You mean I won't be able to poop?" he cried, horrified.

Shawn shook his head. "No!" He looked down at his own figure, and his eyes widened further. "Oh no! I'm making the same face! I won't be able to poop either!"

Triple H's face was all eyes. "You guys can't poop?" He could imagine what it must be like not to be able to poop. The very thought horrified him.

"Whoa," Cena said, his eyes widening as well. "That sounds horrible!"

Meanwhile, a woman who was in the store looking for a birthday gift for her son blinked at the sight of four boys—no older than five, from the look of them—huddled together, holding action figures and talking about the inability to excrete solid wastes with absolute horror.

One of her eyebrows rose, and she shook her head, chuckling softly. Kids.

…

Undertaker and Randy Orton looked at each other. Slowly, they both grinned, their eyes sparkling mischievously.

They were in the very back of the store with Batista, Matt Hardy, Rey Mysterio, and Rob Van Dam. They had traveled back here in a group for no particular reason, only searching for something interesting. And Randy and 'Taker thought they'd found exactly that.

Before them was a space lined with bikes, small and large, dyed a variety of colors. In one corner there was even what seemed to be a sort of child's motorcycle—and it was this that had caught 'Taker's eye. He gestured to it, and Randy nodded, his grin widening.

Batista considered the two mistrustfully from behind them. He had seen that look before…usually just before something ended up broken or blown up. Needless to say, he did not like it. "Guys…what are you doing?"

Randy looked around at him, that impish grin still on his face. He winked, and stated inexplicably: "You'll see…"

"Bwikes!" Rey shouted at the top of his voice, and attempted to hobble to the bikes, but Batista held him, never taking his eyes of 'Taker and Orton.

"Guys…" he began, but Undertaker and Randy raced toward the little motorcycle before he could finish. Undertaker jumped into the seat, and Randy leapt on behind him, gripping 'Taker's shoulders, excitement in both their eyes.

As soon as 'Taker was in the seat of the toy motorcycle, and he gripped the handlebars, he became a strong, badass biker, who kicked the sorry asses of all who dared challenge him. He tipped his hat to side, placed imaginary sunglasses over his eyes, and flexed his fingers around the handlebars. "You ready?" he asked, and in his mind his voice came out rough and deep.

"You bet," Randy replied, and smacked the back wheel. "Let's tear this place up, 'Taker!"

'Taker leaned over the handlebars, his eyes narrowing to slits, and emitted a series of 'vrooms' to imitate the engine of a motorcycle—though to the two boys, it was an engine. He pulled it up as best he could on its back wheel, and imagined that it reared entirely into a complete and perfect wheelie, and then came down and smoothly began to move forward.

He began to pedal furiously, and Rey, Batista, Hardy, and RVD jumped out of the way as he rode right through them. "See ya, suckers!" Randy called back to them, laughing.

Holding 'Taker's shoulders for support, Randy pulled himself up, and stood on the seat. When he had a firm footing, he let go of his friend's shoulders and spread his arms in his signature entrance gesture. Undertaker looked around at him and grinned.

They rode through the clothes section, knocking down the hangers, leaving heaps of hangers and crumpled clothes in their wake. Undertaker turned sharply as they came to the end of the section, and Randy had to grab his shoulders momentarily to prevent himself from tumbling off. 'Taker turned again, into the aisle leading to the front of the store. He rode down it, increasing his pace, grinning widely.

Randy jumped up again, and pointed ahead excitedly. "Toys ahoy!" he called, cupping his mouth in his hand. 'Taker looked ahead, and his grin widened when he saw they were indeed heading straight for a large shelf with board games and the like stacked upon them.

"Get ready!" he shouted over an imaginary motorcycle engine, and Randy leaned forward over him, gripping his shoulders, preparing to jump.

Undertaker released the handlebars, and he and Randy leapt off the bike merely seconds before it collided hard with the shelf.

"One…" The boxes trembled.

"Two…" They tipped.

"THREE!" 'Taker and Randy shouted together, and the boxes avalanched upon the bike—with was already broken, from the look of it; the front wheel and the handlebars were bent at an abnormal angle.

Undertaker and Randy cheered, and exchanged a series of high-fives. Shawn, Triple H, Edge, and Cena stepped out of their aisle, still holding their action figures, appearing curious.

Randy turned to them, and spread his arms over his head again, smirking. Undertaker turned also, and copied him. They both rolled their eyes in the back of their heads—or Orton did the best he could—and rolled their tongues out on their chins.

Shawn laughed and clapped, dropping the box he was holding to the floor.

"Whoo!" Edge called, cupping his hands over his mouth, and laughed.

"Too bad you couldn't have gotten a bigger bike," Triple H said, grinning as well. "You could've knocked that sucker right down!" He emphasized this last word with a stomp of his foot.

"Dwown!" cried a familiar high-pitched voice. Randy began to turn, but before he could, he was tackled by a tiny masked boy, who grabbed him around the middle. Consequently, he stumbled forward, colliding with Undertaker, and all three tumbled to the ground in a heap.

"Knwock dat swucker dwown!" Rey shouted, and giggled, clutching Randy.

"Uh…I don't think he meant that sucker, Rey," Shawn said, laughing, and Triple H snorted.

Unbeknownst to them, however—for the time being, at least—there was another sucker that had been knocked down as a result of the little crash. A sucker by the name of Vincent Kennedy McMahon.

On the other side, the shelf 'Taker and Orton had crashed into was lined with Barbies and accessories. Vince had been standing beside the shelf and muttering incoherently to himself, his son and his Executive Assistant watching him with growing concern. When the two child wrestlers collided with the shelf, the Barbie boxes around him shook, tipping dangerously. Shane saw, but before he could shout out a warning to his father, they fell upon him.

Vince cried out in surprise and collapsed onto the ground with the force of the falling Barbies. Coach had to snort at the sight of his boss, the Chairman of the WWE, buried in pink and other bright colored boxes which contained female child toys.

"Dad!" Shane cried, and immediately dropped to his knees and began to dig through the pile, looking alarmed.

The ten child superstars who had accompanied them here peeked into the aisle curiously just as Vince violently pushed the boxes off himself, fuming. His face had turned an ugly red. Coach fancied he could see steam billowing from the Chairman's ears.

"Whoa. Looks like Mr. McMayo…Mahon got buried in Barbies," Edge said, and snickered.

"Oh gosh, Edge…I never knew you were such a genius!" Cena cried with mock praise.

Edge scowled, and opened his mouth to make a sharp retort, when he was interrupted by another, louder, deeper, and much more irate voice.

"WHAT IN ALL THE HELLS IS GOING ON HERE?"

The ten superstars, the McMahon's, and Coach all turned, to see a burly, angry-looking man standing there. His fists were clenched, his large body actually shaking in anger, looking far more furious—and dangerous—than even Vince ever had.

"Fwend!" Rey cried immediately, and attempted to go to the man, but Batista held him back, wrapping his arms protectively around the smaller boy.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY STORE?"

Vince, highly embarrassed at his present state, began to stutter a reply, but the man—most likely the manager, Coach assumed—interrupted.

"GET…OUT!" he bellowed, pointing an angry finger at the doors. "OUT…OUT…OUT!" He accented each 'out' with a jab of the finger. Vince, Shane, and Coach all decided it was best to obey.

Coach went to the children and began to usher them out, and they went willingly enough—Undertaker and Randy sniggering, Shawn, Triple H, Cena, and Edge appearing both amused and bewildered. Matt looked bored as ever, and Rey looked excited still. Batista eyed the man mistrustfully as he walked out, and RVD hurried out the doors, looking frightened and a trifle confused. Vince McMahon and Shane O' Mac hastily followed.

"AND DON'T YOU EVER COME BACK!" the manager shouted as a parting gift, and stormed back into the store.

The thirteen stood out there in the parking lot, looking at the doors, silent, for a few moments. Then, abruptly, making Shane and Coach jump, all ten of the five-year-old superstars began to cheer.

"Let's do that again!" Randy cried, and slapped a high-five with Undertaker.

"Agwain!" Rey agreed.

Shawn and Triple H raised their arms over their heads, crossing them to form X's. The others—even Edge, who was too excited to realize just what he was doing—did the same, and they all slapped their hands together.

Vince McMahon groaned. The headache was returning.

And to think, he actually had considered an adult DX his greatest problem…

So, did you like? I know, long…sorry. I tend to go into incessant detail, and that's probably why. –shrugs- Old habits die hard.

The next chapter will be much shorter, and, yes, will come much faster. Of course, reviews would certainly help speed it up...-wink wink- XD