OK, not a super-quick update, but faster than the last one! I hope you like it; I'm not sure about this one…
Plenty of McMahon torture again in this one…with all that's been happening with everyone's favorite Chairman I just have to torture him double-time. ;) Anyway, no Jeff in this one, but Jeff in the next one, and a little more of little Rey-Rey!
Enjoy. :D
"Going to the playground!"
"Pwaygwound!"
"Hoo-rah!"
"Going to the playground!"
"Pwaygwound!"
"Hoo-rah!"
"Going to the playground!"
"Pwaygwound!"
"Hoo-RAH!"
Vince McMahon twitched repeatedly as the cheerful chanting echoed through the bus, seeming very loud and obnoxious to the Chairman of the WWE. Shawn Michaels and Randy Orton led the chant, pumping their fists into the air each time they sang. Edge, Undertaker, Triple H, John Cena, Tommy Dreamer, CM Punk, Matt Striker, Rob Van Dam, and Sabu all swayed in their seats, their hands in the air, like fans at a concert, singing. Dreamer and CM Punk both ended up slapping Matt Striker in the head each time they swayed in their direction. Each time they did, he grunted in pain, and the continued singing cheerfully.
Little Rey Mysterio swayed side to side in his seat, singing loudly, his huge eyes alight. Batista sat beside him, singing but not swaying, and JBL was at his side, singing loudly and crudely. Kane, Sandman, and Kurt Angle were the only ones not singing—Kane sat alone behind 'Taker, his arms crossed, silent. Sandman sat muttering "Pussies," and drinking his Red Bull, belching each time Miz, who sat between Cena and The Game, shouted "Hoo-RAH!", Kurt Angle by his side, drooling.
Jonathan Coachman, Shane McMahon, and Vince McMahon sat at the front of the bus, Vince twitching, Shane sitting leaning on the seat in front of him, his head in his arms, Coach sitting beside him, watching the kids with a small smile on his face.
Coach and Shane were not sure why Vince had chosen to take them on a bus ride this time—or more importantly, why he had chosen to ride with them. Nor did they even begin to comprehend why the Chairman had chosen to bring them on this trip to the playground in the first place, though Coach had his suspicions.
The bus driver was a pleasant-faced, short, plump man who was singing right along with the five-year-olds, singing at the top of his voice, "Going to the playground!" and periodically pumping his fist into the air along with Randy and Shawn. More than once this almost caused them to skid right off the road.
Shannon Moore, who had run in when they had been boarding the bus, was sitting beside Vince at the front of the bus. "Hey!" He shouted now, excitedly, "Can I sing too?"
Cena, H, Edge, and CM Punk all made faces at him, and they all shouted in unison, "No!"
Shannon slumped in his seat, hanging his head. "Rejected…"
Meanwhile, little Rey Mysterio was considering his surroundings with huge, sparkling eyes, singing, "Pwaygwound!" almost impulsively each time they sang. His eyes shifted to the window, and he leaned over, pressing his face to the glass. He watched with excited fascination as the cars, trees, and buildings flashed by in fantastic blurs, and best of all, the people wandering on the sidewalks on the side of the road, flashing by one by one. Watching them, Rey decided he wanted to go out there and give some of those people a hug.
He looked up, and saw the bus window was slightly open. He jumped onto the top of the seat, and reached to the window, and pushed the window down as far as he could. Satisfied he could open it no more, he lifted himself to the window and leaned out. He got his head entirely out the window before Batista spotted him.
"Rey!" Batista shouted, alarmed, loud enough to startle the other children on the bus, including the McMahon's, Coach, and the driver. Batista jumped up, and snatched Rey's legs, pulling him back into the bus. The driver looked back, taking his eyes off the road and his hands off the wheel, consequently causing the bus to veer to the right, almost sending them flying right off the road.
Just as Batista and Rey fell back in the seat, knocking JBL to the floor, the bus driver grabbed the steering wheel and turned the bus back onto the road, slamming on the brakes at the same time. They halted briefly, and then continued smoothly. The bus driver breathed a loud sigh of relief. "Whoa, man, that was close, eh?" He said pleasantly to Vince, and grinned. Vince, who, along with Shane, had been slammed head-first into the window, twitched, as did his son. Coach, meanwhile, smiled shakily back.
"You guys OK?" Shawn questioned concernedly, leaning out of his seat, his eyes wide.
Batista sat up, and nodded. "Yeah…" He looked sternly at Rey. "Rey, what did I tell you about doing that?"
"Siwy." Rey said, and giggled, hugging Batista. "Siwy, siwy, siwy…"
"Stupid little midget." Vince muttered, rubbing his aching head.
Rey's eyes flashed suddenly. He glared with surprising venom at Vince over the seat, his eyes narrowing. Vince was sitting only two seats ahead of Rey, Batista, and JBL—Rey now leapt onto the back of the seat, and jumped forward, shouting in a voice that was surprisingly deep and vehement, "WHO YOU CALLING SHORTER THAN A MIDGET LEPRECHAUN?" He snatched the top of the back of the seat behind Vince, and swung his legs over, striking Vince right across the face. Vince grunted in pain and surprise and fell back in his seat, holding his nose. Coach and Shane both blinked, startled.
"Six…one…nine!" Cena called excitedly, pumping his fist into the air, and he and Shawn slapped high-fives. Shawn and Triple H also slapped their hands together.
Meanwhile, Rey Mysterio sat on the back of the seat, his eyes glittering, and giggled. "Siwy." He said, giggling, and then jumped into the aisle, and hobbled back to his seat, giggling all the way. All eyes watched him, everyone startled and bewildered.
Then suddenly, Edge began to cheer. Randy soon followed suit, and Undertaker immediately started to cheer as well. Shawn, Cena, and Triple H also began to cheer, and the remainder of the five-year-olds began to cheer as well. Soon they were all cheering and clapping, Rey continuing the giggle.
Vince twitched. His fingers tightened over the edge of the seat. Not even fifteen minutes, and already he was beginning to regret this decision.
…
The playground, as Shawn Michaels, John Cena, and Triple H would later tell Matt and Jeff Hardy and Michael Cole, was just as cool as Toys-R-Us, if not cooler. When they arrived, Shawn, Cena, H, Undertaker, Randy Orton, Edge, Lita, Matt Striker, and Tommy Dreamer headed for the middle of the playground, where the slide and the castle-like structure it was connected to was situated. Leading to this castle there were four poles, to which was attached four small circular platforms, each platform situated higher than the one before, creating something like stepping stones leading to inside the castle-slide.
Shawn, Randy, Edge, and Undertaker sat on these platforms, holding the poles to keep themselves up. Randy Orton sat between Edge and Undertaker, leaning on Undertaker's shoulder, his feet resting on Edge's leg. Undertaker had flashed Edge a triumphant look when Randy had leaned on him, and Edge was now the way the two were seated with apparent jealousy.
Triple H and Cena were seated by Shawn, Matt Striker and Tommy Dreamer sitting by them. Lita seated at Edge's feet. H and Cena had been fighting a moment ago over who got to lean on Shawn's legs—Triple H did so first, and then Cena pushed him off, resting his own head against Shawn's legs. Triple H soon fought back, pushing Cena back into the wood chips which littered the ground, resuming his former position. On the battle raged for five minutes, before Shawn, frustrated and annoyed, kicked them both, causing their fighting to cease, though they both continued to glare at each other.
The eight five-year-olds watched as Vince McMahon, Chairman of the WWE, chased a laughing CM Punk around the playground, looking very much like an angry bull, his face a deep, ugly red. CM Punk dove through the swings, almost knocking Ariel and Kevin off of them, zigzagged through the teeter-totters (almost causing Vince to trip over one of them) and around the merry-go-round, moving just fast enough to be beyond the enraged Chairman's reach, waving his plastic sword and laughing.
Rob Van Dam and Sabu soon joined them, both watching Vince with raised eyebrows. "Man, he looks nuts, doesn't he?" Rob said, slightly mystified, and Sabu nodded, pointing at Vince and solemnly twirling his finger around his ear to show Vince was crazy.
"Yeah, dude…what's up with that guy?" Dreamer questioned distastefully, one eyebrow raised, watching Vince.
"He's unsanitary." Shawn recounted solemnly.
Dreamer turned to him, inquiring. "Huh?"
"Unsanitary. He lost his sanitary." Triple H said, and when Dreamer still looked puzzled, he amended, "He lost his brain." He tapped his brow soberly.
"Oh." Dreamer's expression turned solemn, and he sat back.
"When did he lose it?" Matt Striker questioned quietly, regarding Vince with slightly widened eyes, looking a trifle frightened.
"Long, long ago." Shawn said knowingly.
"I was born long, long ago…" Undertaker said reminiscently, wrapping an arm around Randy Orton.
"Whoa…really?" Matt Striker looked completely engrossed.
"Yeah. Long time ago." Randy confirmed, nodding.
"You're a senile citizen!" Striker said excitedly.
"I'm a what?" Undertaker questioned, blinking at him, his eyes narrowed slightly.
"A really old person." Tommy recounted, and Undertaker nodded, his face clearing.
"I lost my sanitary once." Rob recounted soberly, his eyes cast downward.
The others looked at him, their eyes wide, all looking fascinated. "You did?" Shawn gasped, his hands over his mouth, looking at him in disbelief.
"Yep." Rob nodded, looking at the ground.
"Did the evil chickens take it?" Edge questioned, his eyes wide and horrified.
Rob looked confused for a moment, and then shrugged. "I guess. I don't really know…"
Edge gasped, and pulled up his knees, burying his face in them, shaking. Afraid he was going to cry again, Lita and Randy both patted his back soothingly. Undertaker watched this with narrowed eyes.
"What was it like, man?" Dreamer asked, fascinated, and they all leaned closer to hear.
"It was like…like…I don't really know what it was like…it was like I couldn't think, man…because I didn't have a brain…" He regarded his friends with wide eyes, raising his hands to his head. The others gasped.
"How'd you get it back?" Striker asked, and they all leaned even closer to hear better.
"Sabu got it back for me." Rob said, and beamed appreciatively at Sabu.
Sabu drew himself up proudly, and stood. He held his hands to the side, as though he were gripping something like a bat, preparing for the pitch, and swung, like a batter swinging at a ball, and then began to run around, flapping his arms frantically, and then fell to the ground, twitched one, twice, and the lay still. A moment later he jumped back to his feet, pumping his fist into the air triumphantly.
Rob nodded grinning. "Yeah, yeah! He chopped the head off the evil chicken and got back my brain!"
Edge regarded Sabu with wide eyes. "You're a hero, man!"
Sabu nodded, his chin held proudly up.
"Yeah!" Shawn cried, pumping his fist into the air, and the others did the same, and they all slapped numerous high-fives.
In the midst of all these high-fives, Edge heard a dread sound ascend from somewhere behind him. His smile faded, and he turned, and his eyes widened abruptly when he saw the source of the noise. "Ch-Chickens!" He shouted, horrified, and leapt off the platform he had been sitting on, retreating behind Randy, shaking, his eyes wide.
The others looked around, Sabu immediately preparing to save the day (and their sanitary), and Triple H rolled his eyes when he saw what Edge was talking about. "Dude, those ain't chickens! They're ducks!"
"D-Ducks?" Edge echoed uncertainly, and Randy laughed, patting his back.
"Yeah, ducks, man, not chickens!"
They were indeed ducks. A brown duck hobbled its way across the park, followed by a group of smaller, grey ducks—babies. The mother duck quacked, and her children—seven, it seemed—imitated her cry. They seemed to be heading for the pond in the center of the park.
"Duckies!" Cena cried excitedly, his eyes shining. "Lot's a duckies!" He immediately ran to the ducks, arms outstretched. The mother duck quacked loudly in alarm, and hurried away, her children, imitating her cries of fear, rushing alongside her. Cena chased them, giggling, crying, "Duckies!" They soon outran him, however, and escaped into their pond. Cena attempted to pursue them, only to trip in the mud and fall face-first into the water.
Shawn gasped, and the nine immediately ran to him, Shawn helping him up, while Triple H snickered. When Shawn got Cena to his feet, the other boy was near tears. "Duckies!" He cried dismally, reaching for the ducks. One of the babies quacked once, as if in triumph. Cena hung his head.
"Idiot." Triple H snickered, and Shawn slapped him outside the head, causing his sniggering to cease abruptly.
"I can't get the duckies." Cena said sadly, and sniffed.
Shawn patted his back. "That's OK, buddy, look!" Cena regarded him, and he grinned, holding up both his fists, as though to punch Cena. Instead of striking the other boy, however, Shawn lifted his thumbs and pinkies, bending his pinkies to the side, and exclaimed, "See! I can make duckies!"
Cena's face lit up. "Cool!" He lifted his own hands, clenched them into fists, and attempted to do the same as Michaels…but he only ended up raising his thumbs and pinkies, finding himself unable to bend his pinkie the way Shawn had. His smile faltered, and he tried again, only to get the same result. Again. The result was the same. Once more. Same.
Cena looked dismally at his fists, and hung his head again. "I can't do it!" Triple H began to snicker again.
Shawn patted his back again. "It's OK, man. It's OK…"
"I wish I had a duck." Randy said wistfully, looking longingly at the ducks across the pond. It was then, that Undertaker and Edge simultaneously got an idea.
Undertaker and Edge both looked around hastily while Randy regarded the ducks in the pond, and both in unison noticed a group of ducks hobbling along by the pond. Together, they both muttered "There!" and ran to the ducks, grabbing two of them before they could get away. 'Taker and Edge then took the loudly protesting ducks back to Randy, both grinning.
"Look, Randy!" They both cried in unison, "I got a duck for ya!" Noticing the other, they both turned to glare at each other.
Randy looked at them, and gasped delightedly. "Ducks!" He grinned at them both. "You two got me ducks?"
Edge turned away from Undertaker, and grinned at Randy, stepping forward. "Take my duck, Randy! Mine is much cooler than his." He made a face briefly at 'Taker, and grinned at Randy again.
"Nuh-uh!" Undertaker retorted vehemently, and held his own duck to Randy. "My duck is the cooler duck! Look at his green head!" Indeed, Undertaker's duck possessed a green-colored head, while Edge's duck, being female, did not.
"My duck's bigger!" Edge proclaimed, holding his own duck to Randy.
"No it isn't!"
"Yes, it is!"
"No, it isn't!"
"Uh-huh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Huh-uh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Huh-uh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Guys—" Randy began, frowning now, but Undertaker turned to him, looking angry, and pointed irately at Edge.
"Don't listen to him, Randy, he's a liar!" He cried, and glared at Edge with burning hatred.
"I'm not a liar!" Edge retorted, "You are!"
"You!"
"You!"
"You are!"
"You are!"
Undertaker put his duck down, glaring at Edge. "Yeah, well, you suck!" He snapped, and suddenly leapt on Edge, tackling him to the ground, and began pounding him relentlessly, shouting insults while Edge also shouted insults, though his were rather pathetic.
"Dude…" Rob Van Dam remarked, walking up to them with Sabu. Sabu crossed his arms and shook his head.
Shawn patted Randy's back. "I know how you feel, man." He said solemnly, and jerked his thumb back towards Triple H and Cena, who were currently in the midst of a fight over if Cena would ever be able to make duckies or not.
Shawn and Randy sighed and unison, and plopped down to a sitting position, back to back, watching their respective pair of dueling friends.
Meanwhile, Vince McMahon was in a fight of his own. His fight, however, was against three five-year-olds in cardboard and tinfoil armor, one of which was taunting him now, another of which was giggling, while the last of which only stood by the taunting one, rolling his eyes at every insult his companion threw out.
CM Punk, the taunting one, Matt Striker, the giggling one, and Tommy Dreamer, the one rolling his eyes repeatedly.
"What now old geezer, huh?" CM Punk taunted, pointing his plastic dagger at Vince and laughing deridingly. "Wha'cha gonna do now, huh?"
Vince, red faced and panting, lunged for the boy, but Punk and his two companions leapt back, just out of reach of the exhausted chairman. Vince growled, but he was unable to move anymore. Punk had worn him out minutes ago by making him chase the armored child around the playground repeatedly.
Coach laid a hand on Vince's shoulder, looking concerned, perhaps for the safety of the children. "Mr. McMahon, sir—"
"Why you little pieces of trash—" The irate chairman breathed.
"You're the piece of trash, you trashy senile old geezer." Punk shot back, smirking. "Oh!"
"You got served!" Striker exclaimed, giggling.
"Oh!" Punk said again, smirking still. "That's what you get from the N…" He leapt forward, landing in a crouch, holding his daggers up so they formed an x before his body.
"G…" Tommy Dreamer continued, rolling his eyes but humoring his friend, twirling once, stopping beside Punk, swiping his sword to the side above Punks head.
"A!" Striker finished loudly, and jumped forward, not seeing Dreamer's sword traveling in his direction, consequently getting smacked outside the head. He fell to the ground with a grunt of pain and surprise.
"No Girls Allowed, baby." Punk said, his smirk widening.
Shannon Moore watched them, his eyes wide and shining. "Can I join you guys?" He questioned excitedly.
"No!" Punk, Dreamer, and Striker (still on the ground) shouted together.
Shannon looked down, his shoulder's slumping. "Rejected…"
Vince scowled, his fists shaking in anger, barely hearing his son and Executive Assistant, who were now both trying to calm him down.
All feel silent, however, when another five-year-old suddenly walked into the playground, a bald boy holding two milk cartons, with a rather mean expression on his face. Vince scowled, Coach groaned, and Shane fought the sudden urge to slam his face repeatedly into the swing set post. Even 'Taker, Edge, Cena, and H all stopped fighting to turn to regard this new boy.
"Steve!" Shawn cried excitedly to the boy, his eyes alight.
"Fwend Stweve Awstin!" Rey cried, and ran to the boy, wrapping his arms around his midsection. "Helwo Fwend Awstin!"
"Oh my God…" Coach groaned, "Steve Austin…"
"That's Stone Cold to you, Baldie." Austin said, glaring at Coach. He pushed Rey off, and walked up to Vince, regarding him. "What's with the old geezer? Like to beat up kids, do ya, senile old oily guy?"
"What did you just call me?" Vince breathed, almost at his breaking point, wanting nothing more than to strangle this little beast.
Stone Cold Steve Austin lifted his milk cartons, stepping so close to Vince they were almost touching, and suddenly slammed the cartons together, spraying milk everywhere, all over himself and Vince. He lifted the cartons over his head, and opened his mouth, pouring the milk into his mouth. Then he threw them down, and pointed at Vince. "Time for me to open up a can of whoop-ass all over your ass you mother-focking old, grey, oily geezer." He said, and promptly kicked Vince once in the shin. Vince released a cry of pain and fell to his knees. Steve stood triumphantly, his arms crossed.
"Oh!" Rob Van Dam cried, "What dat? What dat?" Everyone regarded him with raised eyebrows, and he shrugged sheepishly, embarrassed.
Then, starting with 'Taker, ending with Cena, they all began to cheer. Shawn only stood there, his arms crossed, offended by Steve's vulgarity.
Vince remained there a moment, kneeling, soaked in milk, shaking in anger, clutching his aching shin, and the suddenly he bellowed, and scrambled to his feet, grabbing Shane and Coach, and proceeded to drag the two bewildered men to the bus which was waiting for them by the sidewalk. He dragged them on, and threw them into the seats.
"I'll pay you what ever you want to leave before they get on." Vince said desperately to the driver, who then raised an eyebrow and pointed to the door. Vince looked, and groaned when he saw Steve Austin standing there, regarding him mistrustfully.
Vince slumped in his seat as they all began to board, still cheering.
This was turning out to be the worst day of Vincent Kennedy McMahon's entire life…
Yeah, well, just wait 'till you get your head shaved at Wrestlemania. If you do, anyway. I don't think you will. But you may…;)
Do you think he will? I'm cheering for Vince all the way, what about you? Anyway, what do you think of this chapter? It was good, I hope. And Stone Cold Steve Austin is in this now! I just had to add him. ;) He's gonna be opening cans of whoop ass all over this story. And that's the bottom line, because Stone Cold said so!
;) And at least we know why Cena always does that fist-thumb-pinkie thing…he's trying to make duckies. But he just can't do it! T.T
LOL. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think!