O.O Never mind what I said about the reviews being slow. LOL…I guess a lot of people still giggle over the whole 'Mr. McMahon likes cocks' thing the brilliant duo of Degeneration-X started. I hope I'm making it even better for you. :D Thanks for all the reviews!
I have decided, based on my own personal opinion and your reviews, that Bitch-off (thank you, HuntersAngelJacky, for that name) will be tortured, by the way of two certain high-flyers, their tag-along announcer, and now, a certain star tag-team. He'll get this chapter, and then one more after this. He deserves it. After that, I'll get rid of him. He's just not important enough to keep. ;)
This chapter took me a little while, I know. I do hope it was worth the wait. Four more little five-year-olds join the mix here. Enjoy. :D
Chapter nine: Lost and Found
The Miz, like Kane, had a bit of a problem. His problem, however, was not a quintet of patronizing, jumping green fairies. There was no one attempting to steal his rubber duck. Rather, there was someone attempting to steal his sanity.
"Worms," he whispered, half sobbing, and shivered. Worms. His worst fear. Slimy, crawling monsters. Far worse than fairies, as far as the Miz was concerned.
"I'm…gonna get'cha!" a gleeful voice cried above him, and he shrieked. He had been crouching behind the couch in Jonathan Coachman's office, hands over his head, his knees drawn to his small chest. Now he looked up, and screamed again when he saw a dark, behemoth shape looming over him. Low, malign laughter descended from it. The shape reached down, and the Miz realized with a growing horror it was holding a small rubber worm. Its nightmare goggle eyes rolled.
The Miz shrieked with all the power in his minute lungs, and scrambled to his feet, ducking away from the worm. He ran around the sofa, arms held protectively over his head, only to have his legs swept out from under him. He collapsed. He sat up, groaning, rubbing his aching head, and looked around. His eyes widened in absolute terror when he saw the floor was littered with unspeakable colored worms.
He hitched in a breath, about to scream again. Before he could, however, he was hit by numerous small things, falling upon him in what seemed to be an endless shower. He slowly turned his gaze upward, to find he was being showered upon by the squishy worms.
"I'm the Boogeyman…and I'm gonna get'cha!" the gleeful voice cried again.
The Miz shrieked, and fainted.
…
Shawn stopped suddenly, his head cocked in a listening gesture, one arm held out to halt the others. They had been wandering the halls for a while, now joined by Kane, in a tireless search for Vince's cocks. They currently stood in a long hallway—there were three doors at their right. Shawn had thought he heard a scream come from inside one of these, and it was this which had caused him to halt.
"What is it?" Cena questioned.
"Did you hear that?" Shawn whispered, and looked at the doors, his eyes widening slightly.
"Someone screamed," Randy said, sounding a little frightened. He unthinkingly moved closer to Undertaker.
"Which room, though?" Triple H asked in undertone. He crept toward the doors, peering at each closely.
"Dere," Rey said. He hobbled to the middle door, reaching for the knob. He was too small, and could not reach it. He jumped, snatching at it. He missed, and fell back to the ground. Undeterred, he tried again, and once more missed. He continued this futile endeavor, his expression of excitement never changing, until Triple H stepped up and opened the door. The others huddled up behind him, and the eight peered in with curiosity and dim trepidation.
Lita was the first to scream.
The entire floor was littered with tiny, red and green worms. There was an unconscious boy lying motionless by the couch across the room, covered in worms. Another boy sat on the arm of the soft, a large worm with strange eyes in hand, wearing large blue goggles, peering down at the unconscious boy and grinning. There was a large, transparent bucket in his lap, half-filled with the strange colorful worms.
Lita ducked behind Edge, and Randy and Undertaker stepped in front of them, Undertaker a little before Randy. Kane stood in front of them, ready to fight. Shawn grabbed Rey's shoulder, holding him back, while Cena and Triple H moved to shield them, both holding an arm out to indicate to Shawn to remain there.
Boogeyman regarded at them, and pushed his goggles up, still grinning. He jumped off the couch, brandishing his worm, twisting and shaking his body in strange, jerky movements. He advanced on them, and dipped his hand into the bucket on the arm of the couch. He took out a handful of the colored worms, and suddenly, grotesquely, shoved them into his mouth, still grinning. Some of the worms fell from his lips, half-eaten, and a trickle of drool dribbled onto the floor. Lita and Shawn shrieked.
Abruptly, unexpectedly, the Miz leaped up, looking determined and ready to retaliate. He snatched the small worm in the Boogeyman's hand. He slammed it onto the ground, and proceeded to stomp on the poor, innocent, rubber thing before Boogeyman could even register his worm had been taken. One of the thing's strange goggle eyes popped out.
Boogeyman cried out in dismay, and fell to his knees as the Miz retreated, reaching for his rubber worm. "No!" he cried tearfully. "Jerry!" He burst into tears. "Not my Jerry! WHY?"
Shawn gasped and immediately ran to his side, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's OK," he soothed. "Jerry will be OK." He glared at the Miz. "How dare you?"
The Miz grinned, and began pacing in a very peculiar manner, taking long, leaping strides, flinging his arms back and forth, thrusting his upper body forward and back, almost as though he were pecking at something.
Edge saw this and his eyes widened, filling with tears. "He…he…he's a-a-a ch-ch-ch-chicken!" he cried, totally horrified. Randy saw he was going to weep again, and went to his side at once, turning him away from the sight.
"Don't look," he instructed mildly, patting Edge's back. Lita put an arm around him also, looking concerned.
The Miz suddenly fell forward, and lay on the floor, twitching. Triple H, Cena, Shawn, Undertaker, and Kane all blinked down at him. "I think he's a dying chicken," Triple H said, mystified.
"Dwying slwowy," Rey agreed, standing in between Cena and H, and giggled.
"In a lot of pain," Cena added, as bewildered as Triple H.
Kane stepped forward, hesitant but curious. He leaned in slightly, head cocked, his masked face turned on the twitching Miz. "I wonder what would happen if I poke him," he mused aloud, and proceeded to do just that.
"Uh, maybe you shouldn't—" 'Taker began, but suddenly the Miz leapt up. Kane jerked back, startled.
"Hoo-rah!" The Miz shouted in Kane's face, and began his strange chicken-like dance once more.
"What did you call me?" Kane demanded angrily, raising a fist, fully intent on pounding this little creep to the floor. Undertaker grabbed his wrist, however, holding him back.
"Don't touch him," he warned gravely. "I think he might be one of those evil chickens Edge was talking about earlier."
"Evwil chwicken twat cwame fwom Mwars," Rey said solemnly, and giggled, huge eyes sparkling.
"Did you hear what he just called me?" Kane said hotly, glaring at Undertaker behind the mask.
"He didn't call you anything. I don't know what he said." Undertaker regarded the Miz, his expression disgusted and bewildered.
"Was he trying to say Hooray?" Shawn wondered, standing up, looking curiously at the dancing Miz. "You know like, Hooray!" He cried out this last, throwing his hands in the air briefly in demonstration.
"Maybe," Triple H mused, arms crossed, his head cocked slightly. "Dude's kinda weird."
"That's comin' from the dude with the giant nose," Cena remarked, considering the Miz with slight curiosity. Triple H glared venomously at him.
"Yeah, well, your mom," he shot back. Cena turned to glare at him, snarling.
"Hoo-rah!" The Miz shouted, still prancing around.
"I never heard chickens make a noise like that," Shawn said, his nose wrinkling slightly.
"Maybe he's got a cold," Randy suggested, but Edge shook his head, sniffling.
"Ch-chickens don't g-get colds; they come from M-Mars." Randy went back to him and patted his shoulder, and Lita hugged him briefly.
"I think he's choking," Undertaker said. His expression was that of bewildered disgust and amusement.
"I think he's hyperactivating," Kane said, stepping closer to his brother, head cocked.
"Hyper-what-ivating?" Undertaker questioned, turning to him.
"Hyperactivating. It's when you can't breathe," Kane explained, holding his hands to his throat to demonstrate.
"Chwicken wyperwactivwating," Rey agreed from beside H, and nodded, giggling. "Chwicken cwan't bweathe."
"Is that why he's making those weird noises?" Triple H asked, turning away from Cena at last.
"Hoo-rah!" The Miz cried, as though in confirmation.
"Woo-wah!" Rey echoed. He began to circle Triple H and Cena, mimicking the Miz's dance.
"Maybe we should give him…you know, that 'C' thing," Shawn suggested, slightly concerned now.
"Nuh-uh!" Undertaker cried, revolted. "I'm not gonna kiss him!"
"Lita could do it," Cena volunteered, pointing to Lita.
"No way!" Lita exclaimed immediately, her face twisting in disgust. "I'm not gonna kiss a chicken. Besides, I think he's compulsing, not hyperactivating."
"Com-what?" Cena questioned, regarding her.
"Compulsing. It's when people shake a lot. I think he's sick," Lita said solemnly, nodding as though to confirm this.
Shawn considered this, and then something occurred to him so abruptly and powerfully he jumped. Cena and H glanced at him inquiringly and with some concern. "Hey, if he's an evil chicken that came from Mars, does that mean he's the one who stole Big Oily Guy's brain?"
For a moment there was silence, in which the seven regarded the dancing Miz thoughtfully. Then Triple H spoke up slowly, uncertainly, "Maybe that's why he's doing that. Maybe he's choking on Big Oily Guy's brain."
"Maybe we can get him to spit it out, if we squeeze him really hard," Randy suggested.
"Me and Kane will do it," Undertaker offered, and the two brothers advanced on the Miz, ready to tackle him.
"I just hope he hasn't pooped it out already," Shawn said, not without a trace of worry. Triple H, Randy, and Lita made a face.
Cena watched as Undertaker and Kane moved closer to the Miz—who seemed to notice none of them at all—his expression pensive. "Wait!" he cried suddenly, just before the two pounced. All six turned to look at him, inquiring.
Cena stepped closer, his eyes suddenly alight with excitement. "He's a chicken…and he's a boy, right?"
"Right…" Shawn said slowly, and his eyes suddenly lit up. "And that would mean—"
"He's a cock!" Triple H cried excitedly, and began jumping up and down, clapping and cheering. "We found the cock!"
"We found the cock!" Shawn cried elatedly, and also began to jump up and down, applauding. "We found Mr. McMahon's cock!"
"Fwind cwock!" Rey cried, and he too bounced in excitement, huge eyes sparkling.
"Yeah!" Undertaker cheered, and turned to Randy, slamming his hat on Orton's head. Randy, beaming, turned to Edge, and passed the hat to him. Edge grinned at them, and all three exchanged high fives.
"We better get him to Mr. McMahon!" Randy said, and he and Undertaker advanced on the Miz, grabbing him and lifting him up.
"Hoo-rah?" The Miz no longer sounded quite so enthusiastic.
…
"Johnny, I really don't think—"
"Shut up, Joey!" Johnny Nitro hissed at Joey Mercury, standing on the arm of the couch. He was facing the rest of it, preparing to flip backwards off the arm, to prove once and for all he could indeed do it.
What he did not realize, of course, was that a small table was situated right next to the sofa, and if he jumped, he would crash right into it.
"But John—"
"Shut up! Melina doesn't think I can do this, so I'm gonna prove to both of you I can!" Nitro snapped, and straightened, preparing to commence with the leap.
"Johnny, maybe you should—"
"I said, silence!"
"But John, behind you—"
Nitro scowled at him, and then, not bothering to look around, back-flipped off the couch. As was expected, he crash-landed right into the table, and Mercury winced as it broke in half, and boy and table collapsed in an untidy heap.
Mercury hesitantly advanced forward, leaning over. "Uh…Nitro?"
Nitro glared at him from atop the shattered table. "Why didn't you tell me there was a table there?" he breathed, furious and in pain.
Mercury shook his head. "I tried to, man, but you just wouldn't listen. Too busy trying to impress Melina, I suppose. Even though she's not even here," he pointed out, slightly amused now, and crossed his arms.
Nitro glared at him. He sat up with a groan, his hand on his back.
The door opened suddenly, and in propelled another boy, about their age, releasing a cheer as he went. He seemed to fly, moving so fast he was little more than a blur, and jumped at Nitro with arms spread, as if to embrace him. He moved too quick, however, and leapt right over Nitro, slamming head-first into the wall instead. He fell to the ground, and lay there, unmoving. Nitro and Mercury both blinked.
"Jeff!" a voice cried from the doorway. Mercury and Nitro turned, to see another boy run in, his black ponytail bouncing. He ran to the first boy's side, and the boy immediately jumped up, bouncing excitedly. Nitro was the first to recognize them.
"Matt Hardy," he said, his tone thick with hate as he addressed the second boy.
The boy glared back, deep abhorrence in his eyes. "Nitro," he said flatly.
"Jeff Hardy," Mercury said, glaring at the bouncing boy with the same antipathy.
Jeff Hardy regarded both of them for a moment, and then jumped, tackling them both to the ground. "HihihiNitroMercurylongtimenoseewhere'sMelinahihihimybrotherlookslikeafish!" he exclaimed, holding them both in his bone crushing grip, grinning widely.
"Get this creep off me!" Nitro shrieked, attempting without success to push Jeff away.
"And me!" Mercury shouted.
Matt Hardy, looking furious, walked up to them. He delivered a hard kick to his brother's shin, successfully throwing Jeff off the two. "Stop saying I look like a fish!" he snapped. "I do not!"
"Actually," Mercury said thoughtfully, standing up, "you kinda do."
Matt rounded on him. He only stood there a moment, fists clenched and shaking, eyes burning with absolute rage. Then he lashed out at Mercury, kicking the other boy hard in the stomach. Mercury grunted, leaning forward, hands instinctively going to his stomach. Matt advanced on him, wrapping his arm around Mercury's neck, stuffing the other boy's head under his arm. He twisted his body, driving his other arm down on Mercury and slamming the other boy to the ground. Mercury bounced, then lay there on his back, still.
"ThefishTwistofFate!" Jeff cried excitedly, pumping a fist into the air.
"You just got fish twisted," Matt spat, kicking Mercury again in the shoulder. It took a second for him to realize what he had said, but when he did, he rounded on his brother with narrowed eyes. "Hey, wait a minute—"
Meanwhile, Eric Bischoff and Michael Cole stood in the doorway, watching his entire exchange. Bischoff's mouth was agape, his eyes still wide, the remaining bewilderment only just begun to dissipate. He still had no idea what was going on—how the hell had these wrestlers turned into five-year-old children? There was no rational explanation Bischoff could find. And the remaining pain in his leg where Hardy had kicked him was not exactly helping matters.
Mercury and Nitro were five-year-olds as well, it appeared. How many others were there? Did Vince know about all this? Bischoff felt he needed to find the Chairman of the WWE.
"He gets pretty vicious if you say he looks like a fish," Michael Cole said beside him, and Eric blinked down at him. Cole was looking at Matt with a thoughtful expression, his arms crossed.
"He does look like a fish," Bischoff replied. It was meant to come out only as a mutter—none of them were supposed to actually hear it, but unfortunately for Eric, Matt Hardy had very sharp ears when it came to someone comparing him to the aquatic, gilled creatures.
The boy turned and stomped over to him, fists clenched. He scowled up at Bischoff, and Eric looked back, bewildered. Then suddenly, Hardy punched Bischoff in the shin—his hurt shin. Eric cried out in surprise and pain, and Matt continued delivering hard punches to Eric's shin with his small fists, until Eric was ready to collapse. He managed to stay up, clutching his leg—and then Hardy slammed his fist right into Eric's groin.
Eric Bischoff, former GM of Raw, stood there with hands on his groin now, his face was twisted in pain, bent over slightly. Then he finally toppled over, and lay on the floor, clutching his groin and groaning.
"Hmph," Hardy scoffed, and turned, crossing his arms. "I do not look like any fish!" he snapped to no one—and everyone—in particular, stomping once for emphasis.
Meanwhile, Johnny Nitro was circling Jeff Hardy, his eyes locked on the bouncing boy. He circled him like a lion facing a rival animal, prepared to strike. He stopped, facing Jeff. Jeff suddenly bounded forward, tackling Nitro. The two rolled across the floor, Nitro punching, Jeff hugging, and Nitro's back slammed into the wall underneath the window on the other side of the room. Nitro instinctively reached up, grabbing the curtains, consequently pulling them down, along with the bar which supported them. The bar landed on the arm of the couch, and swung sideways, sweeping an empty vase off the small table in front of the couch. The vase fell to the floor and shattered. The curtains themselves floated noiseless down, and draped over Mercury, who had risen unsteadily to his feet, unsure where he was. Disoriented and cast into complete darkness, Mercury stumbled around the room covered in the curtains, like the world's smallest sheet-ghost. He stepped unwarily on the sharp remains of the vase, and cried out, stumbling back. He collided with a chair on the other side of the room, and involuntarily back-flipped into it, consequently tipping it over, right on top of him.
All of this happened in 6.4 seconds, amazingly enough.
Eric Bischoff gaped at this destruction from his spot on the floor, eyes wide. "Holy—" Vince was going to have his ass for this.
Matt Hardy looked around, an eyebrow raised, and shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Mass destruction, everywhere we go," he muttered. He walked up to his brother, who was jumping up and down again, looking at the dazed Nitro with a big grin splashed across his face.
"You OK?" Matt asked, and Jeff nodded with all the speed of a steroid-pumped cheetah.
"YeahyeahyeahdoyouseewhatIdidyayyayyay!" he cried, pumping his fist into the air.
"Yes, I see what you did. Now let's go." Matt grabbed his brother's hair and began dragging him out of the room, walking past Bischoff without so much as a glance at the former GM of Raw.
"Byebyebye!" Jeff called, waving so fast Eric feared his hand would fly off.
Michael Cole motioned for Eric to follow, and went after them. Bischoff hesitated, and followed, one hand still on his groin, limping slightly.
Nitro jumped to his feet, his upper lip curled in a snarl. He ran after them at once, grabbing the doorknob as he went.
"Wait!" Mercury called, tearing off the curtains with some difficulty as he crawled out from under the chair. He ran after Nitro, but Nitro shut the door before he could slip out, and Mercury slammed right into it. He stood, teetering for a moment, then fell into a sitting position. He saw stars.
Nitro opened the door, looking annoyed. He grabbed Mercury's arm and yanked him to his feet. "Move it, you idiot," he snapped, and the two took off, pursuing the Hardys, Cole, and a still confounded Bischoff.
Well, next chapter is going to be all ECW. Guaranteed Rob, Kurt (not ECW anymore, but hey), Sabu, and maybe Khali…who else would you like to see? I don't know many ECW people, but I do know some. I'm struggling with ideas right now, so a little help from you wonderful readers (and reviewers) wouldn't hurt. ;) Also…would you like to see Paul Heyman tortured by our little ECW friends? I certainly want to torture him…what about you?