Chapter 7- The strange talk.
The WWE gang woke up in the locker room, everything was as it should be. Randy wasn't in a dress and Kane wasn't Charlie Brown. The Undertaker was relieved to see that he no longer was a mute dog as Chris Jericho was now eye level with most of the gang. "Oh thank God!" sighed out John Morrison.
"Amen, I am getting the hell out of here!" called Punk.
The two superstars left as Kane let out a sigh. "I am getting sick and tired of getting trapped in fiction constantly" he sighed. "Why doesn't it ever happen to other people? I mean you know, like Umaga or the Great Khali?"
"Kane, have you ever tried understanding either one of them when they talk?" Chris Jericho asked. "You know, I've had enough crazy shenanigans that could put me in the nut house. I'm going to go work on my book!"
Chris did as he said and went to his locker room, pulling out a pad of paper and began writing the sequal to his novel of 'A Lion's Tale' but as he wrote, he paused. "What the hell"
He tried writing once more, yet found he couldn't keep his pencil stright, or make any coherent words come off the paper. Chris Jericho was writing like Woodstock the yellow bird once more!
Meanwhile.
Morrison and Punk were walking down the hall when Vicky Guerrero approached them. "Wha, wa, wa wawa waaa" came from the Smackdown GM.
Morrison slowly removed his sunglasses. "Pardon?" he asked.
"Wha, wa, wa, wawa, waaa!" she said a little louder.
Punk and Morrison were lost as they turned to each other. "Uh, we'll get back to you on that" The two began to walk a little faster away from Vicky. Neither knew why she was she talking like the adults from Charlie Brown?
Back in the locker room.
"Doesn't some of this stuff follow us back from the fictional world?" Kane asked aloud.
"Did it happen the last time?" questioned The Deadman.
"Well to a few. Not everyone" Kane pondered to himself as to who would be affected by the story this time, and how long it was last. But he just knew one thing. Kane wasn't watching Charlie Brown any time before bed again.
Nor is he ever going to try and kick a football should Randy Orton be holding the ball!
THE END.