I'm so sorry I made you guys wait again. I had a little trouble getting this chapter done. I hope you like it as much as the others. And thanks to all those who reviewed. You guys rock. :D
Enjoy!
Vince McMahon had just about been pushed to his limit.
Since this horrible, confusing, endless day had begun what seemed like a lifetime ago—but was, in truth, only about six or seven hours—these wrestlers, who had somehow been turned into five-year-old children, had been less than tolerable. But since the…incident at that ridiculous toy store, it had been even worse.
Michaels, Triple H, Cena, and Edge had been following him around, staring up at him with their huge, excited eyes. They wanted to ask him something—he could read it in their faces. He did not want to know what that question may be. At all. He was sure what ever it was, it would ultimately shred his sanity in one foul swoop. Quite sure.
He had been attempting to avoid them for half an hour, even retreating to the seats in the arena in an attempt to lose them. Yet still they followed him, never taking their eyes off him. Needless to say, it was getting rather irritating.
"Big Oily—er, Mr. McMahon—"
"Coach!" Vince called gruffly, cutting Michaels off. Coach, who was standing by the ring and watching the others, looked around, inquiring.
Vince stepped over the barricade, and straightened his tie. He glared at Coach in a way which clearly stated he just better obey the orders about to be given to him, or he would face dire consequences. "I'm going to my office. Keep these..." He glanced down at the four five-year-olds at his feet, and his face twisted in disgust. "These vermin away from me. Understand?"
Coach looked at Michaels, H, Cena, and Edge, and nodded. "Yes, sir," he said, and dutifully hurried to usher the four away from his boss and back to the ring. Vince took off for his office, leaving Coach with the order to keep all children away from him.
"He isn't very nice," Cena remarked, and crawled into the ring with Michaels and H. Orton and Undertaker, who were seated inside the ring, waved at them, and they joined the two.
Edge lingered, and turned to Coach. "He's not very nice at all," he said, and crossed his arms.
Coach patted his back, smiling a little. "It's been a long time since he had so many kids around, that's all."
"We're not that bad," Edge said, looking moodily at the floor, his lower lip stuck out in a pout. He seemed to hesitate, and when he looked up at Coach again there was a different look in his eyes. "Are we?" He seemed almost troubled for a moment, and then simply shrugged and departed to join Lita by the announcer's table.
Coach watched him go, his expression slightly thoughtful now. Then he looked around, searching for Shane.
The younger McMahon was on the other side of the ring, by the ramp leading into the arena. He was attempting to avoid Trish, who was following him and giggling, a bright blush glowing in her cheeks. Carlito was at her heels, regarding Shane with slight jealousy.
"Mr. Shane?" Trish said shyly, lightly prodding Shane's leg. Shane looked down at her, and she stepped back, her cheeks blazing.
"Leave me alone," Shane groaned. "Don't you have something better to do than stalk me?"
Trish paused, seeming to actually consider this. "Nope," she said at last, and giggled.
Shane moaned and slapped his forehead. "How wonderful for me," he muttered.
"Yep," Trish agreed, and grinned.
Shane released yet another groan, and sat on the wall separating the ring and the seats, his hand over his eyes.
Coach went to him, and sat next to the younger McMahon. "We have to come up with a way to keep these guys away from your father," he said, looking thoughtfully at the entrance to the arena.
Shane nodded, and sullenly looked around.
Rob Van Dam and Sabu had completed their jumping contest a half hour ago, Rob emerging as the victor. They were now eyeing each other at ringside, standing on opposite sides of the apron, obviously preparing to compete in another contest. Kurt Angle was sitting behind Sabu, drool streaming steadily from his mouth.
Matt Hardy, Rey Mysterio, Batista, and JBL were at the announcer's table. JBL was in the middle seat, gazing crossly at Hardy, who was in one of the chairs at the edge of the table. Hardy himself was leaning back, his hands laced behind his head, looking uninterestedly at the ceiling and completely ignoring JBL. Batista sat beside JBL, one hand gripping Rey's arm, his chin resting in the palm of the other. Rey, his massive eyes sparkling, was attempting to get out of the chair. He was unable to do so because of Batista, but he seemed not to notice this at all. He kept trying to get out of his chair, the joyful expression on his face never changing.
Booker T and Sharmell sat on the steps, their hands linked, Booker's thumb stuffed into his mouth. He sucked it thoughtfully, watching Maria and Candice, who were running in circles before them, Maria brandishing her deadly spoon.
Shane shifted his gaze to the five gathered in the ring. Michaels and Orton were chatting cheerfully. Undertaker occasionally contributed to the conversation, but mostly kept quiet, watching the two. Triple H and Cena were seated a little behind Michaels, glaring at one another, their expressions that of palpable, burning hatred. It was then, studying their faces, that Shane received a brilliant idea.
"I know what we can do!" the younger McMahon declared, standing suddenly. All activity halted, and twelve pairs of eyes turned in Shane's direction. Carlito and Trish, who had seated themselves before Shane and Coach, talking quietly, now looked up at him with raised eyebrows. Coach blinked at him.
"Uh…what?" he questioned, uncertain he desired to know.
"I know what we can do to keep them away from my father! We can put them in matches!" Shane cried, his face positively glowing with his excitement. "Wrestling matches!"
"Wrestling?" Shawn echoed, peering at Shane, uncertain of whether to be excited or not. "You mean, like, fighting?"
"Yes!" Shane grinned widely at his own brilliance.
"Cool!" Shawn cried delightedly, throwing a fist into the air. "We get to fight!"
For a moment, all was silent, all eyes on Michaels. Then, beginning with Randy and Undertaker and spreading to the others, an exultant cheer erupted in the room.
"Fwight!" Rey cried at the top of his voice, loud enough to be heard over the cheers. "We fwight!"
"Yeah!" Randy and Undertaker slapped their hands together. They turned to Shawn, H, and Cena, their hands raised, and all five of them exchanged high fives. Randy turned to Edge, his hand raised, grinning broadly. Edge regarded him uncertainly for a moment, then slid into the ring, and struck Randy's raised hand with his own.
Randy slipped out of the ring, and went to the announcer's table, grabbing one of the microphones. He then went back, microphone in hand. With 'Taker by his side, he began to speak.
"The first match of the day shall be…" He whirled to face H, Cena, and Shawn, "Triple H and John Cena!"
Cena and H turned on each other at once, their eyes burning with abhorrence. They took their places on either side of the ring, burning holes in each other. Randy and 'Taker ducked out of the ring, Randy still holding his microphone. Shawn, his delight dissipating, groaned, and followed them.
"Here we go again," he muttered. He stood on the apron, leaning on the second rope to watch as Triple H and Cena began to circle each other.
Randy, Undertaker, and Edge joined him on the apron, just as Triple H charged at Cena, his head lowered. His body collided hard with Cena's, and he pushed Cena back towards the ropes. Triple H backed Cena into the turnbuckle, pummeling the other boy relentlessly. Cena kicked at him, pushing him back, and the two ended up in the middle of the ring, pounding each other.
Randy snorted. "Yeah. It's funny to watch them fight."
Shawn rolled his eyes. "I only wish I knew why they fight so much."
Triple H kicked Cena in the stomach, causing the other boy to tilt forward, his hands going to his stomach. He forced Cena's head between his legs, and snatched both of the other boy's arms behind his back. He did not leap upwards—was not yet strong enough, Coach supposed—but managed to force the boy in his grip hard onto the floor.
"Pedigree!" Randy called, throwing his fist into the air.
"Pedigree?" Edge regarded Randy enquiringly. "Isn't that dog food?"
Shawn couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. Hunter liked the word, so he called his special move after it. Don't laugh. He doesn't like it when people laugh."
"How could you not laugh at that?" Edge said, and covered his mouth to stifle the laughter. "I mean, how stupid is that? To name your special after dog food?"
Shawn glared at him. "Well, how come you call your special 'Spear'?" he challenged. Edge's laughter died, and he scowled at Shawn.
Undertaker, meanwhile, was regarding Shawn thoughtfully. "You mean you don't know?"
Shawn turned to him. "Know what?"
Triple H fell on top of Cena, and hooked his leg, pinning the other boy to the ring floor. Matt stood, yawning, and went to the ring, looking bored as ever. He slid in, and slapped his hand down on the ring. "One…" He slapped again, "Two…" He raised his hand to slap the ring again, but Cena kicked Triple H off, and leapt to his feet. Hardy slid back out of the ring, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Why they fight all the time," 'Taker said, smiling a little now.
"No," Shawn said, "I don't. Why, do you?"
Undertaker nodded. "Yeah, silly, they do it for you," he said, and poked Shawn's chest playfully.
Shawn blinked. "For me? Huh?"
"For you," Randy echoed. Shawn turned to him, blinking, honestly puzzled. "Don't you see it?"
Shawn blinked at them. "See what?" He looked so genuinely confused, Randy couldn't help but laugh.
"They do it for you." He prodded Shawn's nose playfully. "They're fighting over who gets to be your friend!"
"My…friend…?" Shawn frowned, and turned to regard his battling friends thoughtfully.
Cena had backed Triple H into a corner, delivering a series of punches to the other boy. Triple H was forced down into a sitting position, gripping the ropes in an attempt to keep himself up. Cena ceased his attacks and stepped back, snatching H's wrist. He pulled The Game up, and swung him around like a rag doll, into the opposite corner. Triple H groaned and staggered backwards. His body swayed, barely managing to remain upright.
Cena saw his opening, and crouched, waiting. Triple H unwittingly came toward him, dazed, and Cena managed to snatch the other boy around the waist. He rose as high as could onto his feet—which wasn't much higher than his knees—and prepared to heave Triple H over his shoulder with all the force his small, five-year-old body could muster.
Coach watched this all transpire with interest, and turned to Shane thoughtfully. "This must be the early forms of the moves they do now." Shane glanced at him, and nodded distractedly.
"The SU!" Randy cried excitedly, and threw his fist into the air.
"SU?" Edge raised an eyebrow.
"The perfect move for you," Shawn said absently, stepping through the ropes and into the ring. "Screw You."
"Hey!" Edge snapped, looking slightly hurt. Randy patted his back comfortingly.
"Wait, John, put him down!" Shawn called, hurrying to where John stood, Triple H in his grip. John blinked at him, and lowered Triple H, none too gently. H plopped down immediately into a sitting position, rubbing his head and groaning. "You OK?" Shawn questioned, leaning next to him.
Triple H nodded, and glared at Cena, who countered with his own burning gaze. "What's wrong?" Cena asked Shawn, crossing his arms. "I was just about to beat his butt."
"Oh you wish, Cena," H snapped, and Cena scowled at him.
"Guys!" Shawn said, wrapping his arms around the necks of his two friends. "You don't have to fight anymore," he said earnestly, and embraced them both. "I like both you guys. You're my best friends!"
Cena and Triple H turned to regard them, both looking a little bewildered, but pleased. "Really?" Cena asked softly.
Shawn grinned at both of them. "Of course! You guys are my bestest buddies in the whole wide world!" He embraced them both lovingly. "You both are."
Cena and H returned the gesture affectionately, and turned to each other, their cheeks flushed slightly. They held each other momentarily, and Shawn put his arms around both of them, resting his head on Triple H's shoulder.
Rey Mysterio, who hated being left out of hugs, broke away from Batista and hobbled his way to the ring. He slipped his tiny arms around Cena's and Triple H's waists, laying his head on Cena's side. "Bwestwest fwends," he said, and giggled.
They broke apart (Cena and H having to pry Rey off—the tiny masked boy retreated to Shawn's side, giggling and saying "Siwy, siwy, siwy…"), and Triple H and Cena considered each other for a moment.
Cena was the first to frown. "I still hate you," he recounted doggedly, crossing his arms.
Triple H's eyes narrowed. "I still hate you more."
"I hate you this much!" Cena spread his arms wide, almost hitting Rey in the process.
"I hate you this much!" Triple H threw his arms open, and Shawn had to duck to avoid being hit. He paused, then added violently, "Plus two!"
"I hate you this much plus sixty-two!"
"I hate you this much plus a bazillion and two!"
"I hate you this much plus a gazillion and two!"
"My hate for you is bigger than the whole wide world!"
"My hate for you is bigger than your nose!"
"Hey—" Triple H tackled Cena to the floor. They both began rolling around on the ring floor, pounding each other and shrieking petty insults.
Shawn blinked down at them, his mouth open, for a moment unsure of what had just occurred. Then he closed his mouth, and slapped his forehead. He sighed, shaking his head, and turned and went back to the ropes, where Randy, 'Taker, and Edge stood watching, Edge and Randy snickering.
"I tried," he said sulkily, and Randy and Undertaker patted his back.
All activity ceased abruptly when a loud, spontaneous cheer sounded behind the curtain at the entrance to the arena. A boy—another five-year-old, much to Shane's dismay—ran in, his purple hair bouncing on his shoulders. He did a series of flips down the ramp, followed by another boy, who looked slightly nervous. The purple-haired boy did not slow even as he approached the ring, and he ended up slamming head first into it. He fell back, and lay sprawled out on the ground.
Everyone fell silent, and stared down at the unconscious form of the boy. Even Cena and H stopped fighting long enough to stare at the new arrival. Matt Hardy groaned and slapped his brow. "Oh no…"
"Fwend Jweff! Fwend Mwichael Cwole!" Rey cried elatedly, and hobbled to the two new boys. He cheerfully hugged the unconscious boy—Jeff Hardy, presumably—and then moved on to the other, Michael Cole. "Helwo fwends Mwichael Cwole wand Jweff Hawdy!"
Jeff immediately jumped to his feet, seeming completely unaffected by his little crash into the ring. He proceeded to jump up and down, grinning broadly at Rey.
"Hihihi!" His greeting came out so fast, there seemed to be not even the slightest pause between the words. He then turned in Matt's direction, and bounded to him, his grin never faltering. "HihihibrotherMatt!" he cried, and cheerfully embraced his brother, who looked exceedingly annoyed.
Meanwhile, Shane's mouth had fallen open, and Coach was blinking repeatedly. Both appeared as though they could not fully comprehend what they were seeing. "What the—?" Coach began, and Jeff Hardy turned to him, his grin widening. He bounced his way to them, and jumped up and down before them, waving so vigorously Coach wondered if his hand would fall off.
"HihihiI'mJeffHardydoyoulikemyhairIthinkit'scoolwhat'syournamewhat'syourfavoritecolordoyouknowmybrotherMatthe'sapartypooperbuthe'scoolhihihiwe'regoingtobebestfriends!" he said, saying it all in one breath. Needless to say, neither Coach nor Shane understood a word of it.
"…Huh?" Coach finally said, blinking at the bouncing boy.
Matt groaned once more, and went to his brother, snatching a handful of the other boy's hair. "Move it, Jeff, you're coming with me," he muttered, and proceeded to drag Jeff up the ramp by his hair.
"Byebyebye!" Jeff called enthusiastically, just before Matt pulled him through the curtain and out of the arena.
"Bye bye!" Rey called, waving.
Michael Cole, meanwhile, slipped into the seat beside JBL. "Hey," he said, rather diffidently.
"Hey, Michael!" Shawn greeted from the ring, waving. He returned the gesture shyly.
"Yo," Batista said. JBL only scoffed, turning to the ring.
"Is someone going to be pinned here or what?" he questioned, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.
Carlito's face lit up. "Oh! Carlito pin someone! Carlito pin someone! That cool!" he cried, clapping and jumping up and down. He ran to the ring, climbed up onto the apron, and attempted to duck through, but suddenly halted halfway through the ropes.
He frowned, and attempted to pull himself through, but a sharp pain forced him back. It was then he realized his hair was caught in the rope. "Carlito stuck!" he cried, fruitlessly attempting to pull himself free.
Randy locked eyes with Edge momentarily, and the two turned in Undertaker's direction. For a moment all three were silent, their faces blank, staring at each other. Then, abruptly, at the same time, all three burst out laughing. Cena and Triple H stopped pounding each other, and looked at Carlito. Seeing the other boy tug at his hair, trying to free himself, the two burst into hysterical laughter as well. Rey, seeing them laugh, began to giggle as well. Batista snorted, and JBL laughed loudly and raucously. Sharmell giggled into her hand, and after a moment Trish joined her. Even Shawn had to put a hand over his mouth stifle his snickering.
Carlito scowled at them. "Carlito no need to be laughed at, Carlito need help! Help—cool!"
Trish jumped onto the apron, and went to him. "Hold still," she said, and grabbed the rope. After a moment of pulling and Carlito's cries of pain, Carlito's hair was free, and he was able to step fully into the ring.
"Cool," he said, and grinned sheepishly at Trish. She rolled her eyes and jumped down, but she was smiling.
Carlito cleared his throat, still blushing slightly in embarrassment, and went to the middle of the ring. "I spit in the face of people who don't want to be cool," he announced in the deepest voice he could muster, and attempted to bite down on the apple in his hand, only to get air. It was then he realized he didn't have his apple.
He blinked down at his empty hand, for a moment unable to comprehend what he was seeing—or, more precisely, what he was not seeing. "Carlito's apple not here," he said, and suddenly whipped his head around. "Carlito's apple is gone!" He fell to his knees, and began searching frantically for his missing apple, tears piling up behind his eyes. "Where go Carlito's apple?" he cried urgently, and jumped out of the ring, diving underneath it. Shawn, Triple H, Cena, Edge, Randy, and Undertaker slid out of the ring after him to look at where he had slipped under, their expressions amused.
Carlito emerged a moment later, sobbing. "Carlito's apple is gone!" he wailed, falling into a sitting position by the ring, his face in his hands. Trish went to him, a mixed expression of amusement and concern on her face, and gave him a brief hug.
"Where go Carlito's apple?" Carlito sobbed, looking up at her with huge, wet eyes.
"Where did it go?" Trish questioned, looking up at the six boys standing at the corner of the ring. All six shrugged.
JBL, stopping in mid-bite, looked up from the bright green apple he had found under the table and had since been munching on. "Uh…apple?"
All eyes turned in his direction. Shawn gasped. "He stole Carlito's apple!" he shouted angrily, looking infuriated.
"Unceptable!" Cena cried, jabbing an irate finger in JBL's direction.
"What he said!" Triple H declared, pointing angrily at JBL.
Shane leaned closer to Coach. "Unceptable?" he said, raising an eyebrow.
Coach shrugged. "Kids."
"Carlito's apple!" Carlito cried with mixed excitement and horror. He ran to the announcer's table where JBL and Batista sat, and snatched back his apple. He inspected it, and gasped in utter horror when he saw the massive bite JBL had taken out of it. "Carlito's apple! You ate my apple!"
"JBL…" Batista said with the air of a parent who has caught their child doing something he should not be, his tone promising consequences. He crossed his arms and glared at the boy beside him.
JBL flinched back from his gaze. "What?" he said innocently, and gave Batista and Carlito a huge grin.
Trish, Shawn, H, Cena, Orton, Edge, and 'Taker immediately went to Carlito's side, all glaring at JBL. "What have you got to say for yourself?" Undertaker demanded, slamming his fist down on the table, making JBL jump.
"Sway fwor ywourswelf!" Rey echoed, slamming his small fist down on the table like he had seen Undertaker do.
"I just found it!" JBL cried desperately. "I didn't know it was Carlito's! Honest!"
Undertaker and Randy exchanged glances, and Randy nodded. Undertaker returned the gesture, and both grabbed a microphone and ran back to the ring. The others turned to them as Randy began to speak. "Our next match will be…"
"Carlito versus J-B-L!" Undertaker finished, accenting every letter with a jab of his finger in JBL's direction.
"Now that's cool," Carlito said, grinning, reading himself for an attack.
"But he will not be alone," Randy said in a low, grave voice which promised imminent danger. He smirked at JBL's shocked and horrified face. "In his corner it will be…Shawn Michaels…" Shawn jumped onto the apron, gripping the ropes.
"Triple H…" Triple H joined Shawn, the smirk on his face promising serious hurt for JBL.
"Demansapation-X!" Shawn declared, throwing a triumphant fist into the air.
"Degeneration," Randy, Undertaker, Edge, Cena, and Triple H corrected him at once.
"That too!" Shawn responded cheerfully.
"John Cena…" Undertaker continued, turning back to JBL. Cena leapt onto the apron beside Shawn, cracking his knuckles and grinning impishly at JBL.
"Edge…" Edge attempted to do the same as Cena, grimaced, and shook his hand when he realized it hurt. He pulled himself up beside Cena, his knuckles in his mouth. Cena and Triple H snickered, and Edge scowled at them.
"Batista…" Batista got up from his chair, and went to the ring, rubbing his hands together and grinning wickedly at JBL.
"Randy Orton…" Undertaker turned to Randy, his hand held out. Randy raised his arms, smirking.
"Undertaker…" Randy gestured to Undertaker, and 'Taker rolled his eyes in the back of his head, a wicked smile on his face.
"And Trish Stratus!" The two whirled in Trish's direction, and Trish threw a fist into the air, glaring at JBL.
"And in JBL's corner…" Randy resumed, turning to JBL.
"Absolutely no one!" Undertaker finished, and both threw their microphones down, joining the others in the corner of the ring.
JBL folded his hands on the desk, and said solemnly, "Michael Cole, I am so screwed."
"JBL, yes you are," Cole replied soberly.
"Michael Cole, I just pooped in my pants."
Cole's face twisted in disgust at the sudden, foul odor which surrounded him. "JBL, yes you did."
"Michael Cole, I'm about to get my butt kicked six ways to Sunday."
"JBL, yes you are."
JBL nodded soberly, for a moment only sitting there, staring blankly at Carlito, who looked more than ready to kick himself some apple-stealing ass. Then, abruptly, he began to scream. The diaper-clad boy made a dash for the exit. It was Rob Van Dam and Sabu who stopped him, both frog-splashing him at once. Maria, wanting a taste of the action, went over to them and smacked each of them with her spoon.
The other's came and surrounded JBL, looming over him like small monsters. JBL had time to look around and visibly gulp, before he was speared into the wall by Edge.
And thus, JBL got his ass handed to him, while Jonathan Coachman and Shane McMahon watched, blinking and speechless.
Something tugged at Shane's pant leg. "Mr. Shane?" a shy voice spoke beside him. Shane looked around to see Candice Michelle standing there, smiling tentatively up at him, her cheeks flushed slightly.
Shane O' Mac groaned, and slapped his brow with his palm.
Would this day ever end?