A/N: I don't own any of the wrestlers. I do own Will, though. It's meant to be amusing and (hopefully) not offensive, but sometimes my sense of humor can be out there.

The Mizard Of Odd

Chapter 3: Miz Gets Out Of Bed

Punk returned ten minutes later with a can of Pepsi and a man who vaguely resembled a refrigerator. "So you're finally awake, huh?" said the appliance-resembling man. His voice was familiar, but Miz knew he'd never seen this man before. "Good. I was starting to think you'd be a vegetable."

"No," Miz said, blinking slowly. "I'm just fine, thanks. Say, do you think you could let me up?"

"You're not going to try and run off, are you?" the man asked. "Because we're having Chicken Pot Pie for dinner tonight."

"Uh," Miz said. "I'm sorry. My brain is still a little fuzzy, but what's the connection between me running off and us having Chicken Pot Pie for dinner?"

The man shrugged. "None. I just don't like chasing you guys down." He pulled a key out of his pocket and held it up. "I'll unlock you, but you've got to promise you're not going to run, okay?"

Miz indicated Punk, who was sipping his Pepsi contentedly. "If he starts preaching at me again, no promises."

"Hey!" Punk said. "That's not cool, Miz. Not cool at all. Maybe you should leave him locked down, Will."

Will chuckled. "Nah, I can't blame him on that one, Punk. Not everyone wants to be straightedge, you know. Some of us like our beer a little too much. Sorry."

"Hmph," Punk said, crossing his arms and spilling some of the Pepsi. "Ack! The holy drink!" He quickly uncrossed his arms and stared down at the small amount of Pepsi on the floor mournfully.

"I'll get the mop when I'm done here," Will said, reaching down to unlock the handcuff first from the bedframe and then from Miz's wrist.

"Make sure you get the mop I blessed," Punk said to Will as Miz rubbed his wrist.

"Thanks," Miz said. "Er, he's blessed a mop?"

Will rolled his eyes. "What hasn't he blessed around here? It gets so no one can get their work done, what with Punk spilling Pepsi on stuff and blessing it. Drives the nurses up the wall when he blesses the paperwork." Will lowered his voice. "Between you and me, I think he's just clumsy and spills a lot."

"I can hear you, you know," Punk said. "I have supersonic Jesus hearing, after all."

"I'll keep that in mind," Miz muttered.

"I can still hear you!" Punk said.

"Hey, why don't you go get the blessed mop?" Will asked. "That way you'll be sure I'm using the right one."

"You think I don't know a ploy to get rid of me when I hear one?" Punk demanded. He paused, frowning as he looked at the can in his hands. "But just to be safe, maybe I'd better go get the mop. You know, so you don't use the wrong one." And he scurried out of the room.

"Wow," Miz said. "So um, am I really crazy?"

"I don't know," said Will. "Are you?"

"Possibly?" Miz asked, frowning. "The last thing I remember is talking to Mr. McMahon… and then I woke up here."

"So you don't remember running through the arena, screaming your head off that aliens were going to eat you?"

"Uh, no. Did I do that?"

Will shrugged. "Probably." He pocketed the handcuffs and his keys. "Punk'll be back soon with that mop. If you're planning to leave the room, there's a sunroom down the hall on the right." Miz had a sense of déjà vu at the words, but he shook it off. "You may find a few people you know down there. We aren't all that crowded at the moment, but I'm sure you can find someone to talk to."

"Thanks," Miz muttered. He slid off the bed and discovered that his knees didn't want to hold him. Will grabbed him before he could slide to the floor and kept him upright.

"Whoa there. Sometimes it takes a while for the drug to wear off. Maybe you'd better sit and I'll push you down there." Will helped him to a wheelchair and settled him in, then took the handles. They wheeled into the hall and saw Punk returning with the mop.

"Sorry I took so long. I had to bless it again," Punk said, his nose crinkling in disgust. "Someone has been using the sacred mop to mop the bathrooms."

"I'll be right back to take care of the spill in your room," Will said. "Let me get Miz settled in the sunroom first."

"Oh, I can take him!" Punk said.

Will glanced apologetically at Miz. "Sure, Punk. But don't try to baptize him! I am not in the mood to have to mop the whole sunroom again."

"That was one time!" Punk protested. "And anyway, most of the residents liked it." He grabbed the handles of the wheelchair. "Come on, Miz. You can help me convert the masses today."

"No baptisms!" Will called after them.

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Punk said with a smile as he wheeled Miz away. "You know, Miz, you're lucky to be here when there aren't a lot of superstars around. Sometimes, when it's really crowded, they have to use the dorms. But since there's just a few of us, you get to room with me. Isn't that nice?"

"Sure. How long have you been here, Punk?"

"Oh, about a year," Punk said.

"A year?" Miz asked. "But you were at the house show with me a day or two ago."

"Of course I was," Punk said. "I'm Jesus. I can be in two places at once."

"I'm pretty sure you can't."

"Oh, I can," Punk said. "Trust me." He turned so that he could back them into the sunroom, allowing the door to fall closed behind them. "Here we are."

Miz frowned when Punk turned the chair back so he was facing the room. "What the hell?"

"Oh, while it's quite warm in here sometimes," Punk said, "it's not Hell. Believe me, I would know."

"What are all these guys doing here?" Miz asked, looking up at Punk.

"The same thing you are, Miz," said Punk with a shrug. "They've gone mad."