Post by Roddy Piper on May 22, 2009 18:52:11 GMT
When Chris Jericho attempts to remind Shawn Michaels of the man he used to be, things take a turn for the interesting....
The camera revealed the showstopper relaxing by his study table .A plaster strip could be seen on his forehead , a remnant of the injury he suffered after he was roughed up by his very own team mate.
He reached for a picture frame that was placed just beside the sweet photo of him and his wife . Both pictures are treasured memory that he brought over from his old locker room.
In the picture frame was a picture of his formal family .It was a picture of all the members of T.D.O ( Kennedy , Morrison , Stephanie and Him , and Kane ) smiling to the camera , relaxing and having a good time after the meeting. That was the last time the group ever meet and discuss things as a unit before WWFR was revamped.
SHAWN MICHEALS
TRAITOR!
He hissed as soon as he spotted Kane’s face on the team picture, and slammed the picture frame down.
He felt troubled that his family had reached a bad state. Not only they were disbanded , he didn’t expect them to be fighting and attacking each other – even before Stephanie’s return.
Although he was not particularly close to anybody in his own family . T.D.O was his home – his safe nest – his refuge.
What was he thinking of disbanding them instead of keeping them together before Stephanie’s return!?
Somehow he regretted his choice.
He walked towards his couch . He used the remote to on his portable stereo set - randomly selecting a song from the cds inside as he slouched on the couch - hoping that some music will soothe his troubled soul
Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alo____
SHAWN MICHEALS
JESUS CHRIST! WHY must YOU be the first song available when I turn on my stereo!
"Crash and Burn " from Savage Garden-
He jolted up from the couch as the song blared through the speakers .That song had been a running joke among the whole stable of Devil's Own as they knew his distaste for rock song . He proceed to change the CD in the stereo set - and tried ANOTHER song....
If I could wish for one thing
I'd take the smile that you bring
Wherever you go in this world I’ll come along
Together we dream the same dreams
Whenever I'm here for you , you're here for me
OWW OWW....Two voices ...One song.
And anywhere you are...
You know I'll be around...
And when you call my name
Ill listen for the sou___
F@#$$! !
Not again!
He certainly didn't know the title of THAT song .
Since when Cheyenne or Cameron's cartoon soundtrack got into his portable stereo?! Those cum buddy lines and soothing voice of country girls singing didn't put much rest to his troubled soul either.
He turned off his stereo set with the remote in his hand - its hopeless .He then tossed the remote aside . Perhaps there is something else he could do to entertain himself for the rest of the night.
Suddenly- he had an ingenious idea to kill his time instead of listening to music. He stood up and started walking towards his wardrobe. He started ransacking his wardrobe, looking through all his showstopper’s attire. He vowed that starting from THAT very moment, his in ring attire will be SOLELY the prized gold and black T.D.O t shirt that Stephanie presented him alongside his old pants with pattern of broken hearts. He will wear those whenever he enters the ring to show his loyalty to his team that had been disbanded until Stephanie’s return. The rest of his Showstopper attire could go down the drain.
A Black T shirt with his infamous wing and cross logo …
A Red and White striped pants with little crucifix pattern running all the way down the side of the pants…
A cream colored cowboy hat that had his name “HBK” with two crucifix symbol neatly engraved on it
And more T – shirts and pants that were imprinted with crucifix symbols and patterns.
Pieces of clothing and attire could be seen flying towards the camera as he started to get busy sorting out his wardrobe .Somehow he regretted bringing over the load of junk all the way from his old WWFR locker room .
He ended up with a HUGE pile of his showstopper’s attire after he cleared his cupboard. He found a box to stuff all of the “junk” in.
He then caught sight of one last item which is out of place - a white mink coat presented by John. He chuckled as he remembered how it ended up with him .It was a match between John and his arch nemesis when he was invited to be the guest announcer not so long ago back in the old WWFR . He worn the flamboyant furcoat to show his support to the younger .When he wanted to give John back the furcoat he borrowed , John insisted he kept it as a gift.
A pang of guilt hit his heart as he could have done something more for the youngster when he was attack by the Big Red last week on RAW. After much consideration -he decided not to mop over it and to leave the mink coat alone. What matters most to him is the youngster is still able to wrestle and make it to his tag team match for the night .With all his might, he carried the heavy box and unwanted attire out of his room. He made sure his locker room was properly locked before heading to dump the heavy box beside a garbage bin.
He dusted his hand. He was tired, but he felt BIG burden been lifted off his shoulder for the night. Gone was the Heartbreak Kid who was a wimp, who believed in righteousness and paraded that he was a man of God wherever he went .He no longer wanted to be the old Heartbreak Kid that ALWAYS ended up as a bully magnet to his fellow wrestlers. He was going to live up his reputation as the former Second In Command of The Devil’s Own – and learn to toughen himself up, just as ALL his team mates had advised him to. Even though he might be a little too late , he will start learning that this very night .
Suddenly , he felt thirsty …
SHAWN MICHEALS
This calls for a celebration!
Happy and feeling accomplished for the night, he mumbled to no one and decided to head to the cafeteria for a cool refreshing drink.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Somewhere in the offices......
He shook himself awake for third time in the meeting so far.
Looked around to see if anyone had noticed and the sight of Hunter fast asleep with his head on his arms, Cena leaning in his seat with his cap bill shading his eyes, Lita who had her head barely supported by one arm and Batista with his head rolled back snoring loudly every few odd seconds brought a small chuckle to the face of the previously surly Savior.
The lead writer Brian Gerwitz though, acted as though everything was jolly dandy and kept talking.
And talking.
And talking.
And....
"And that's how we'll do this promotional touring!"
The cheerful creative writer announced stepping back from the whiteboard to show off what looked like 'War and Peace' broken down into sections which made the whole brainstorm thing resemble a large, dead tree.
He turned around and enquired in a preppy voice;
"Now, does anyone have any questions?"
No answer.
Brian let out a low whistle, then knocked the table hard with a fist and enquired once more in the same tone,
"Anyone? Hut hut people!"
At once, the whole table awoke with a jolt, Lita letting out a small yelp when her arm gave way so her head hit the table and Cena almost falling out of his seat.
"Whutwuzwetalkin'aboutagain?"
Came Hunter's gruff mumble beneath that awesome handlebar moustache as he massaged the bridge of his aquiline nose, brown eyes coming to blearily.
"Tut tut tut..."
Brian said reproachfully in a schoolteacher manner as he then dug what looked like a large stack of printed notes.
"Not to worry. I have notes printed out for your convenience right here....and here...and here...."
The loud, collective moan told of how the stars felt as they reluctantly took the notes handed to them like little children forced to a spelling bee.
It made for a highly amusing scene is nothing else.
"Way to beat us to the punch, Bri."
Chris commented smarmily, riffling through his set as Dave nudged him in the ribs and growled like a bear woken up too early from winter hibernation,
"Don't give him any more fuckin' ideas."
"I feel like I'm back in college."
Cena acknowledged in a monotonous voice.
"At least I have dogs I can feed my 'homework' to."
Lita quipped in a snarky manner as Brian shot her a reproachful glance.
"I'm goin' out for a drink. You crackerjacks talk this over."
Chris said, stretching as he left the room for a while, much to Dave's chagrin as he yelled in Chris' wake;
"Oh sure; leave us all to suffer here, won't you?"
....................................................................................................................
Leaning sideways on the water cooler, Chris took a long draught out of the paper cup in his hand as he tried to clear his thoughts.
Kane passed by as the two shared knowing glances, the Big Red Machine cracked a sinister smirk his way before trundling off elsewhere. Chris' gaze followed him in his wake, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.
He did not relish the idea of working alongside a loose canon tonight. A wrong move and he could be on the receiving end of Kane's wrath instead.
Taking another sip of water, he quirked the a sincere smile for the first time in days as Christy Hemme walked up to him and the two shared a short hushed discussion.
She left, his eyes followed her wistfully.
Not long after, two backstage hands came by; One, the younger of the two held what looked to be a large box of trash in his arms while the elderly one had a stack of equipment.
Caught up in their own talking, they didn't notice the odd stare Chris was leveling their way.
Usually he didn't have any reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary, .but the box of 'rubbish' caught his interest when he saw what looked to be pants leg.
In red.....and white....and.....
He reached out and gently grabbed the man by the shirt collar.
Heard the yelp of alarm as Chris shushed him abruptly.
"At ease, Sparky----I'm not here to lynch ya."
He said and then pointed to the box.
"Where'd you gank this? Been dropping a little more than eaves at a certain Showstopper's quarters have we?"
The interrogative enquiry brought a nervous gulp upon the newbie who shook like a leaf in autumn as the older worker laughed a little and attempted to calm him down.
"On the contraire, Mr.Jericho sir, it was I who picked this up not far from the mentioned room, near the disposal area. I was under the assumption that perhaps Mr.Michaels had reasons for tossing out his prized belongings."
Came the casual, dry reply as he nodded in the general direction of the lockers.
"You don't say."
Chris quipped, intrigued as the smallest hint of surprise crossed his features and he rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.
"Of course, I could be wrong, but errands to run, you know? Would you like to do the honors in paying him a visit and returning it to him instead?"
In reply, Chris wordlessly took the box out of the young man's hands and winked at the both.
"I think I will."
He said as they nodded gratefully and went off on their way.
Turning and heading back to what Brian had dubbed the 'War room', he set the box next to the door and took his seat at the table again, picking up his notes.
At least the discussion seemed to be reaching its final stages.
Brian folded most of the paper scraps on the table to stuff into his bag as Dave stretched and left the table quickly with Lita folllowing close while the head creative was in deep discussion with Cena who was known to all as their promotional workhorse.
Chris saw Brian's cellphone on the table unguarded, swiped it up for a moment to admire the detail.
Clicking through some of the buttons though, he realized that the man had Shawn Michaels on speed dial for whatever reason.
The Canadian smiled as an idea began to crop up in his head and began typing out something in quick movements, checking to see if Brian was watching.
He wasn't.
Done, he placed it right where he'd picked it up, took the box next to the door and left as he whistled a merry tune which sounded vaguely like his entrance theme......
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
Back at the headquarters...
BOY was that big cup of orange juice satisfying !
Thirst quenched and extremely happy to put behind everything sign that he was a weakling in the past , he executed a PERFECT throw of the empty paper cup in his hand right into the garbage bin . He was too relieved and happy to take note that it was same garbage bin that he had dumped his showstopper’s attire moment ago, and someone had just cleared them away.
He walked towards his locker room and locked the door, wanting to settle himself in for a quiet night before his match, when he suddenly took note of his cellphone on his study.
DAMMIT !
He forgot to bring it along with him when he visited the cafeteria . and there was a message waiting for him.
SHAWN MICHEALS
Stupid sms .
He mumbled as he fumbled with the keypad to check out who sent him that message.
WHY SMS when you can call?
He blinked disbelievingly when he read the message…
Shawn ,important and urgent development to be discussed. My office , ASAP~ Brain.
That was unusual . Brian knew he HATED SMSes . It had been always a running joke for the Showstopper to complain about the " small screens that make eyes blind" to the writer . The writer was always courteous enough to call him whenever they have a meeting.
The worst part was , this SMS sounds too important to be ignored , even though he desperately needed some “ alone” time before his match and some rest – especially after the thorough spring cleaning of his wardrobe
He headed out once more, carefully checking his locker room door is locked before he disappeared from view down the narrow hallway. He did not notice one pair of eyes, well hidden from him and watching his every move intently...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Roughly Twenty minutes later...
After walking past 2 blocks of building , climbing not less then 20 flight of stairs (since the office building is STILL new and the elevator is still not yet functional until next week ), and questioning not less than 10 securities and backstage workers , He finally reached Brain’s office – only to discover some shocking truth behind the sms that was sent to him
SHAWN MICHEALS
WHAT!.... I didn’t know where your new f@##$ing office is . I travelled 2 blocks , almost beat the crap out of a rude security who was rude and refused to show me the way to your office .Climb those darn stairs since the elevator is not functioning , and dragged myself all the way UP here . After all these , I finally reached you - And you said it wasn’t you who smsed me ?
Brian Gerwitz
You know me Shawn – I’ll always call you whenever there is a meeting
The writer and the showstopper stared at each other . Neither saying a word for a long time.
The writer seemed lost at the Showstopper’s accusation. He stared bug eyed at the tiny screen of the Showstopper's cell phone when he was shown the sms he had “ sent” the Showstopper.
The Showstopper knew the writer was telling the truth , yet it was his number CLEARLY stated on his cellphone.
SHAWN MICHEALS
Comeon Brian . This is not April Fool . That is YOUR number on my cellphone here.
Brian Gerwitz
I swear I didn’t know what happened .
SHAWN MICHEALS
Well then , the sms magically sent itself when the cellphone is in your pocket. If any news crop up of this mysterious person who summoned me all the way here . Do let me know .
The Showstopper left the writer’s office with that sarcastic remark , and the writer sitting dumbfounded on his office chair as he slammed and walked out of his office door .
He was agitated that the writer had denied summoning him all the way to the office block without ANY apparent reason.
Or was Brian telling the almost impossible truth ? that someone had just used his cellphone to play a prank on him ?
_________________________________________________________________________________________
The room looked like any other from first glance.
No different the facade was to Batista's.
Orton's.
Or Cena's.
The golden name plaque hanging on the door read 'Chris Jericho', with 'The Lion's Den' scribbled just below it in big, black permanent marker.
Todd Grisham whizzed in front of it like a flustered duck, probably in pursuit of another star for an interview before it finally creaked open.
A head popped out from behind it; Blonde and puck-like.
Ice-blue eyes darted back, forth and back again like a tomcat wary of its surroundings.
His face was smudged a little with green, his attire mussed up with paper scraps, glue and other odd things.
Finally satisfied that the coast was clear, Chris smirked a mixture of secret knowing and satisfaction of a job well done as he slitheringly slipped out of the room and gently closed the door until the 'clack' of a latch sounded.
He fiddled a bit with the keyhole with a paperclip and what looked to be a spare key of some sort.
Tried out the door and found that it was locked---just as it had been when he had come by not too long ago.
Excellent.
He was going to have to kiss the locksmith for sharing that little tip with him later.
The fact that Mr.Locksmith was Irish, bearded and tipping 50 wasn't material to him.
"Sir, I have to ask you....is that authorized?"
A backstage hand had passed by, and then backtracked quickly when he realised what Chris was up to.
"Authorized?"
Chris echoed sarcastically as he drew himself to his full height.
Which wasn't much anyway, at 5'10, but he still made for an intimidating figure---kind of like a rabid jack russell.
"Authorized? Jackass, it's my room and I can damn well authorized whatever the crapola I wish to. Besides, with the sort of slack-hack work you boys are pulling around this joint, you'd think we'd start to take our safety into our own hands, hmmm? Now, don't you have donuts and coffee to pick up somewhere for you and your pock-faced little buddies too?"
The backstage worker was more than taken aback. He winced a little under the acid attack and bowed down fervently a few times.
Jericho was very much a Harvey Dent as far as they were concerned, with the ability to switch between good-natured and asshole at the speed of a coin-flip.
"I-I-I-I'm sorry sir. W-we'll try to upgrade our security, I promise you. Again, I didn't mean to intrude, please."
He apologized profusely as Chris chuckled a little.
"Whatever, alright Junior? Here's a twenty. Coffee and donuts on me for the other monkeys too."
He said, taking a green bill out of his pants pocket, slipping it into the surprised worker's hand before grabbing the man by the shoulders to turn him around and roughly shove him down the corridors to a very loud "HEY!!!!!"
"Now hit the bricks!"
He watched as the chap scarpered off. Once the was sure that the man was gone, he looked at the name plaque and shined it up real good. There was a smirk on his face as he took off the plate to reveal that there was another beneath it.
The original one which read 'Shawn Michaels'.
Rubbing off a visible thumbprint, he wiped that clean as well, admired his handiwork before walking down the opposite direction of the corridor; tossing a can of green spraypaint in his hand while humming a tune that vaguely sounded like Shawn's 'Sexy Boy'....
___________________________________________________________________________________________
Finally , he was back at his locker room ,agitated that most of his valuable time before his match was wasted away looking for the writer which did not even intend to meet him in the first place.
He sensed something different the moment he arrive at the front door , but he couldn’t seem to put a finger on what was it .He opened his locker room door , the keys still work pretty well-
Strange .
The moment he shut the door behind him was the moment he
started to realize that something was AWFULLY WRONG .
That sounded different
He fumbled in the darkness for a few moments .Trying to get his own locker room door opened , to not much avail.
Lights ... he needed lights ...
The moment he switched on the lights in his locker room , he momentarily stopped in attempting to free himself from his own locker room , because more terror just unfold before his eyes.
On his desk ...
A pile of smashed glass.
The T.D.O picture frame was SMASHED to pieces , The picture was TORNED to unrecognizable shreds.but miraculously ,the sweet picture of him and his wife was spared
He saw something green seeping through the door of his wardrobe .
He walked over to it , only to discover MORE disturbing mess.
Morrison's mink coat , his T.D.O T shirt , all been spray painted and dumped with GREEN paint !
Its like Karma hitting him full fledge as hunter and him LOVED to play that prank on those who opposed them back in their DX days .
Morrison and Stephanie will KILL him for this . Their prized gift to him ended up covered in green ooze.
He yelped when he was shocked the HOLY HELL at the sight of his showstoppers attire that he thrown away moments ago reappering in his wardrobe . They were safely tucked aside in the drawer , miraculously spared from the green paint's assault .
SHAWN MICHEALS
WHO IS PLAYING THESE SILLY GAMES WITH ME ! I ORDER YOU TO STOP IT RIGHT HERE! RIGHT NOW ! YOU HEAR ME ?!
He shouted to no one .
Then , he spotted something yellow by his television set .
Hey , what was that on his television ?He rarely stick things on his television set .
He walked closer , and discovered a little " stick on " note pasted at the edge of his television.
"Shawn, having a dumpski day ? turn to channel 73. I'm sure you'll love the show. =D"
The perpetrator at work - AGAIN!
Enraged , he tore the" stick on" note to pieces before decided to switch on his television set just to play along .
He was about to discover who it was ... and give him the a@@#$# whooping of a lifetime !
________________________________________________________________________________________
Somewhere in the ring, Chris Jericho was striding around confidently.
He had taken a change of clothes with him since his visit to Shawn's locker room, the smile on his face like that of a cat that ate the canary.
There was a mic in his hand, but he kept starting at an imaginary wristwatch which so happened to be the black wristband he wore.
The crowd was cheering, a few laughing at his audacity and sheer nerve.
King, who sat behind the announcing table was besides himself; Rolling around in little shitgiggles over the PA that saw JR stamping a boot on his foot so that he could regain his composure for worldwide broadcast.
The color commenator shut up at once, though he still had his face buried in his arms and his back silently shook with laughter.
"You will excuse my incapacitated partner, ladies and gentlemen. Looks like Chris Jericho has a rather unsavory surprise in store for Shawn Michaels!"
JR commented as he leaned forward in his seat.
"While my skill as an interior decorator leaves much to be desired, I'm assured Shawn Michaels will enjoy my little....'token of appreciation'. Because ladies and gentlemen, even though my idea of a good night facing off with this man on a matchcard is my foot planted in his chest as that pimple-faced referee slams down his fat little hands and counts it one---two---three, I still respect him."
The cheering now gave way to a few jeers.
"This is serious bussiness, folks. I really do. I mean, c'mon. Everyone knows the story of Chris Jericho. Young grasshopper aspiring wrestler who used to do DDTs and suplexes on unprotected equipment, which hurt like a bitch---don't try this at home kiddies. But we're all forgetting that The Ayatollah of Rock an' Rolla' got his rolicking good moves from a man who used to be called a Sexy Beast himself, instead of the spineless, cowardly jellyfish that he is today. I took it to him tonight when I found that he decided to desecrate my childhood by tossing out the only remnants to the Michaels I knew. The Michaels I looked up to. And I'll pick out a nice little quote from ya, Shawn..."
He leaned againts the ropes, staring dead right into one of the cameras as he mimicked Shawn's trademark rough Texas drawl.
"You don't diss the chaps, brother."
A loud cackle of laughter broke out from King's headset as JR elbowed him roughly in way of telling him to shut up.
The crowd seemed to be enjoying the show as well.
Somewhere backstage, he could imagine Shawn tearing up every piece of furniture in his room.
The cleaners would be having a field day with this one, but damn if he hadn't indulged in such a spot of fun for so long.
He could also imagine Shawn seeing that note, ripping it to pieces and then picking up the remote to....
"So for Shawn Michaels, who I know is currently watching this show at this very moment on his 1980s TV set...."
........................................................................................................
Somewhere backstage, Sgt.Slaughter was making his rounds when a LOUD SCREAM from Shawn Michael's room sent him flying out of his Combat boots.
"What in the name of Jimmy Carter?!"
The Sarge exclaimed, coming to his senses as he heard what sounded like trashing inside the room.
It was locked.
Enemy in the blankets!
Sound the alarm!
"Son!"
Slaughter called out, trying the lock again. He slammed his weight on the door once, twice.
The trashing continue and another roar was heard.
Was Shawn fighting for his life againts some intruder?!
Now he was REALLY worried.
"SON! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! Hold on, alright? Don't you DARE go down on me, Twinkletoes! Security! GET YOUR PINKY COMMIE BUTTS HERE AND GET THIS damn DOOR OPENED!!!"
.......................................................................................................
"...I hope you enjoyed a little trip down memory lane? Of course, I could have chucked in my DVD sets to for your viewing pleasure, but I remembered that a mildly retarted chimpanzee can work a VCR player better than you, my technologically-impaired fiend. I consider myself lucky that you've retained enough 20th century know-how to work a basic remote. So how about all that green, eh Shawn? Reminds you of the good old days, don't it? How about a little dancing, prayers before the pyro? A little Sophomoric school trip pranking? Maybe a little fun at the expense of Coach, or Todd or even the popcorn vendor on the fifteenth row---yes, I'm talkin' about you, Marty."
Somewhere on the aforesaid row, a popcorn vendor indeed shook a threatening fist at Chris as King let out another loud guffaw.
A sharp BZZZTT!!! followed immediately after as JR shoved him right off his seat and went on as though nothing had happened.
"Owww!"
The Color Commentator cried out as he grabbed his headset which had been thrown off in the fall.
"Now will you listen to me?"
"damn if you don't make your points crystal clear, JR. Party Pooper."
"You've had too much to drink again haven't you?"
JR enquired seriously as he shook King's shoulders with some insistence.
"How about those days before TDO? Before the yelling, the bitching, the whining, the craptastic load of emotional baggage for a sack of deadbeats who wouldn't think twice about stabbing ya in the back for that last M'n'M? Shawn, with friends like those, no one needs enemies, and with your current 'woe-is-me' complex, you can forget about winning anything when you're in this ring with yours truly, Senior. Because the Michaels I'm looking to face tonight isn't the one who comes out here moaning day in and day out about 'losing his family' or 'loyalty to the team' or some other emocarnivale. I'm calling for the Michaels who kicked my ass at Wrestlemania 23. The one who guts, the razzmatazz, the balls to stand up for himself instead of being some slut's puppet despot. And if it isn't that Shawn Michaels who comes out tonight, I assure you, your future in this company will be as weak as that itty bitty thing you call 'resolve'."
________________________________________________________________________
With his Television tuned on to channel 73 - and finally knowing who the perpetrator was , his VERY first instinct was to let out a LOUD yell to alert the securities and slamming his body against his locker room door in a futile attempt of freeing himself . He knew he was about to face the risk of been locked in his locker room and missing his own match.
SHAWN MICHEALS
" SARGENT ! WHAT IN THE BLUEST BLUE HELL YOU ARE TELLING ME THAT YOU DIDN'T KNOW THIS IS MY LOCKER ROOM! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN ON DUTY HERE!"
SR. SLAUGHTER
" Mr. Michaels . I am sorry . I'm new in this headquarters. I'm barely into my second week here! The name plate on this locker room door was signed 'THE LIONS DEN' a few moments ago.”
SHAWN MICHEALS
" GEE! YOU EARN A COOKIE FOR BEEN THE BRIGHTEST SECURITY AROUND THE BLOCK ! GET ME OUTTA HERE!"
SR. SLAUGHTER
" Hang on a second there ..."
A few minutes later after been busy on the phone line , which the showstopper could only guess that the sargent was alerting the technician of the situation, the poor security officer finally broke the bad news to the Showstopper.
SR. SLAUGHTER
" All the available technicians at the moment are used up for the RAW Show Mr. Michaels .I'm sorry . You would have to wait about an hour to be free from your own locker room."
An hour! Did he said an HOUR ?!
SHAWN MICHEALS
" SARGENT ! I have a MATCH to attend to tonight! I don’t care HOW you do it . Just ...DO IT ! Get SOMEBODY ! ANYBODY to open my darn locker room . Or else I am reporting you personally to Shane for your carelessness."
SR. SLAUGHTER
" Right away Mr. Michaels .I will try my best."
Footstep could be heard as the security officer rushed off to settle major mess the showstopper was in .Leaving him caught in his own room with his television set still switched on. His nemesis having the last laugh in the ring .
CHRIS 'JERKO'
"...I hope you enjoyed a little trip down memory lane? Of course, I could have chucked in my DVD sets to for your viewing pleasure, but I remembered that a mildly retarted chimpanzee can work a VCR player better than you, my technologically-impaired fiend. I consider myself lucky that you've retained enough 20th century know-how to work a basic remote. So how about all that green, eh Shawn? Reminds you of the good old days, don't it? How about a little dancing, prayers before the pyro? A little Sophomoric school trip pranking? Maybe a little fun at the expense of Coach, or Todd or even the popcorn vendor on the fifteenth row---yes, I'm talkin' about you, Marty..."
SHAWN MICHEALS
See what i mean ?This loser is going Bananas! To HELL with his words that he no longer noses around ! He would hunt me down in every f#$#$ single GODdamn wrestling industry in the world - Thats what it is ! WHAT THE HELL DOES HE WANT WITH ME NOW !
Boy how he wanted to CRUSH that LOUDMOUTH that just COULDN"T STOP YAPPING ! He didn’t even bother to take note that he was not yelling to his arch nemesis , but only to the rookie's virtual self on the television screen.
CHRIS 'JERKO'
...How about those days before TDO? Before the yelling, the bitching, the whining, the craptastic load of emotional baggage for a sack of deadbeats who wouldn't think twice about stabbing ya in the back for that last M'n'M? Shawn, with friends like those, no one needs enemies, and with your current 'woe-is-me' complex, you can forget about winning anything when you're in this ring with yours truly, Senior...
SHAWN MICHEALS
I KNOW my family ! and they will help me in my time of need Jerkhole ! Better than your family that leave you along here rotting like a festering corpse. Where is that Phenomenal Trashbag and that people loser of yours ? You f##$#ing Slimeball BOTTOM FEEDING LOWLIFE! I’ll crush you tonight when i meet you . Just you wait and see
CHRIS 'JERKO'
...The one who guts, the razzmatazz, the balls to stand up for himself instead of being some slut's puppet despot. And if it isn't that Shawn Michaels who comes out tonight, I assure you, your future in this company will be as weak as that itty bitty thing you call 'resolve'."
SHAWN MICHEALS
I said ENOUGH !! I AM the new Shawn Michaels ! The New Icon ! The New Showstopper! FOR YOUR INFORMATION , I AM THE FORMER SECOND IN COMMAND OF T.D.O JERKHEAD ! I will START living up to my reputation today!
Suddenly , as he was having the pleasure yelling to at his own TV set and taking out all his hate on his arch nemesis ...
CHRIS 'JERKO'
Folks, I think we should give his poor old soul some rest .Smile Shawn–o , you're on WORLD WIDE TELEVISION! Oh God Shawn ... you should have watched yourself life on RAW. Thanks for offering some gold candid moments over there living fossil! Remind me to get a copy of this week's RAW when it is on sale
WHAT THE F@##$#$?
The rookie had also installed a CAMERA somewhere in his locker room !And all the while , it was broadcasting him towards thousands of audience that he was losing his temper in his own locker room!
SHAWN MICHEALS
CURSE YOU CHRIS JERKHOLE!!!!
He unleashed a HARD super kick on his own Television set.
The titantron back in the ring stopped previewing life records of the showstopper in his own locker room . But Chris had the last laugh in the ring , satisfied with his mission for the night been accomplished.
The camera revealed the showstopper relaxing by his study table .A plaster strip could be seen on his forehead , a remnant of the injury he suffered after he was roughed up by his very own team mate.
He reached for a picture frame that was placed just beside the sweet photo of him and his wife . Both pictures are treasured memory that he brought over from his old locker room.
In the picture frame was a picture of his formal family .It was a picture of all the members of T.D.O ( Kennedy , Morrison , Stephanie and Him , and Kane ) smiling to the camera , relaxing and having a good time after the meeting. That was the last time the group ever meet and discuss things as a unit before WWFR was revamped.
SHAWN MICHEALS
TRAITOR!
He hissed as soon as he spotted Kane’s face on the team picture, and slammed the picture frame down.
He felt troubled that his family had reached a bad state. Not only they were disbanded , he didn’t expect them to be fighting and attacking each other – even before Stephanie’s return.
Although he was not particularly close to anybody in his own family . T.D.O was his home – his safe nest – his refuge.
What was he thinking of disbanding them instead of keeping them together before Stephanie’s return!?
Somehow he regretted his choice.
He walked towards his couch . He used the remote to on his portable stereo set - randomly selecting a song from the cds inside as he slouched on the couch - hoping that some music will soothe his troubled soul
Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alo____
SHAWN MICHEALS
JESUS CHRIST! WHY must YOU be the first song available when I turn on my stereo!
"Crash and Burn " from Savage Garden-
He jolted up from the couch as the song blared through the speakers .That song had been a running joke among the whole stable of Devil's Own as they knew his distaste for rock song . He proceed to change the CD in the stereo set - and tried ANOTHER song....
If I could wish for one thing
I'd take the smile that you bring
Wherever you go in this world I’ll come along
Together we dream the same dreams
Whenever I'm here for you , you're here for me
OWW OWW....Two voices ...One song.
And anywhere you are...
You know I'll be around...
And when you call my name
Ill listen for the sou___
F@#$$! !
Not again!
He certainly didn't know the title of THAT song .
Since when Cheyenne or Cameron's cartoon soundtrack got into his portable stereo?! Those cum buddy lines and soothing voice of country girls singing didn't put much rest to his troubled soul either.
He turned off his stereo set with the remote in his hand - its hopeless .He then tossed the remote aside . Perhaps there is something else he could do to entertain himself for the rest of the night.
Suddenly- he had an ingenious idea to kill his time instead of listening to music. He stood up and started walking towards his wardrobe. He started ransacking his wardrobe, looking through all his showstopper’s attire. He vowed that starting from THAT very moment, his in ring attire will be SOLELY the prized gold and black T.D.O t shirt that Stephanie presented him alongside his old pants with pattern of broken hearts. He will wear those whenever he enters the ring to show his loyalty to his team that had been disbanded until Stephanie’s return. The rest of his Showstopper attire could go down the drain.
A Black T shirt with his infamous wing and cross logo …
A Red and White striped pants with little crucifix pattern running all the way down the side of the pants…
A cream colored cowboy hat that had his name “HBK” with two crucifix symbol neatly engraved on it
And more T – shirts and pants that were imprinted with crucifix symbols and patterns.
Pieces of clothing and attire could be seen flying towards the camera as he started to get busy sorting out his wardrobe .Somehow he regretted bringing over the load of junk all the way from his old WWFR locker room .
He ended up with a HUGE pile of his showstopper’s attire after he cleared his cupboard. He found a box to stuff all of the “junk” in.
He then caught sight of one last item which is out of place - a white mink coat presented by John. He chuckled as he remembered how it ended up with him .It was a match between John and his arch nemesis when he was invited to be the guest announcer not so long ago back in the old WWFR . He worn the flamboyant furcoat to show his support to the younger .When he wanted to give John back the furcoat he borrowed , John insisted he kept it as a gift.
A pang of guilt hit his heart as he could have done something more for the youngster when he was attack by the Big Red last week on RAW. After much consideration -he decided not to mop over it and to leave the mink coat alone. What matters most to him is the youngster is still able to wrestle and make it to his tag team match for the night .With all his might, he carried the heavy box and unwanted attire out of his room. He made sure his locker room was properly locked before heading to dump the heavy box beside a garbage bin.
He dusted his hand. He was tired, but he felt BIG burden been lifted off his shoulder for the night. Gone was the Heartbreak Kid who was a wimp, who believed in righteousness and paraded that he was a man of God wherever he went .He no longer wanted to be the old Heartbreak Kid that ALWAYS ended up as a bully magnet to his fellow wrestlers. He was going to live up his reputation as the former Second In Command of The Devil’s Own – and learn to toughen himself up, just as ALL his team mates had advised him to. Even though he might be a little too late , he will start learning that this very night .
Suddenly , he felt thirsty …
SHAWN MICHEALS
This calls for a celebration!
Happy and feeling accomplished for the night, he mumbled to no one and decided to head to the cafeteria for a cool refreshing drink.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Somewhere in the offices......
He shook himself awake for third time in the meeting so far.
Looked around to see if anyone had noticed and the sight of Hunter fast asleep with his head on his arms, Cena leaning in his seat with his cap bill shading his eyes, Lita who had her head barely supported by one arm and Batista with his head rolled back snoring loudly every few odd seconds brought a small chuckle to the face of the previously surly Savior.
The lead writer Brian Gerwitz though, acted as though everything was jolly dandy and kept talking.
And talking.
And talking.
And....
"And that's how we'll do this promotional touring!"
The cheerful creative writer announced stepping back from the whiteboard to show off what looked like 'War and Peace' broken down into sections which made the whole brainstorm thing resemble a large, dead tree.
He turned around and enquired in a preppy voice;
"Now, does anyone have any questions?"
No answer.
Brian let out a low whistle, then knocked the table hard with a fist and enquired once more in the same tone,
"Anyone? Hut hut people!"
At once, the whole table awoke with a jolt, Lita letting out a small yelp when her arm gave way so her head hit the table and Cena almost falling out of his seat.
"Whutwuzwetalkin'aboutagain?"
Came Hunter's gruff mumble beneath that awesome handlebar moustache as he massaged the bridge of his aquiline nose, brown eyes coming to blearily.
"Tut tut tut..."
Brian said reproachfully in a schoolteacher manner as he then dug what looked like a large stack of printed notes.
"Not to worry. I have notes printed out for your convenience right here....and here...and here...."
The loud, collective moan told of how the stars felt as they reluctantly took the notes handed to them like little children forced to a spelling bee.
It made for a highly amusing scene is nothing else.
"Way to beat us to the punch, Bri."
Chris commented smarmily, riffling through his set as Dave nudged him in the ribs and growled like a bear woken up too early from winter hibernation,
"Don't give him any more fuckin' ideas."
"I feel like I'm back in college."
Cena acknowledged in a monotonous voice.
"At least I have dogs I can feed my 'homework' to."
Lita quipped in a snarky manner as Brian shot her a reproachful glance.
"I'm goin' out for a drink. You crackerjacks talk this over."
Chris said, stretching as he left the room for a while, much to Dave's chagrin as he yelled in Chris' wake;
"Oh sure; leave us all to suffer here, won't you?"
....................................................................................................................
Leaning sideways on the water cooler, Chris took a long draught out of the paper cup in his hand as he tried to clear his thoughts.
Kane passed by as the two shared knowing glances, the Big Red Machine cracked a sinister smirk his way before trundling off elsewhere. Chris' gaze followed him in his wake, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.
He did not relish the idea of working alongside a loose canon tonight. A wrong move and he could be on the receiving end of Kane's wrath instead.
Taking another sip of water, he quirked the a sincere smile for the first time in days as Christy Hemme walked up to him and the two shared a short hushed discussion.
She left, his eyes followed her wistfully.
Not long after, two backstage hands came by; One, the younger of the two held what looked to be a large box of trash in his arms while the elderly one had a stack of equipment.
Caught up in their own talking, they didn't notice the odd stare Chris was leveling their way.
Usually he didn't have any reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary, .but the box of 'rubbish' caught his interest when he saw what looked to be pants leg.
In red.....and white....and.....
He reached out and gently grabbed the man by the shirt collar.
Heard the yelp of alarm as Chris shushed him abruptly.
"At ease, Sparky----I'm not here to lynch ya."
He said and then pointed to the box.
"Where'd you gank this? Been dropping a little more than eaves at a certain Showstopper's quarters have we?"
The interrogative enquiry brought a nervous gulp upon the newbie who shook like a leaf in autumn as the older worker laughed a little and attempted to calm him down.
"On the contraire, Mr.Jericho sir, it was I who picked this up not far from the mentioned room, near the disposal area. I was under the assumption that perhaps Mr.Michaels had reasons for tossing out his prized belongings."
Came the casual, dry reply as he nodded in the general direction of the lockers.
"You don't say."
Chris quipped, intrigued as the smallest hint of surprise crossed his features and he rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.
"Of course, I could be wrong, but errands to run, you know? Would you like to do the honors in paying him a visit and returning it to him instead?"
In reply, Chris wordlessly took the box out of the young man's hands and winked at the both.
"I think I will."
He said as they nodded gratefully and went off on their way.
Turning and heading back to what Brian had dubbed the 'War room', he set the box next to the door and took his seat at the table again, picking up his notes.
At least the discussion seemed to be reaching its final stages.
Brian folded most of the paper scraps on the table to stuff into his bag as Dave stretched and left the table quickly with Lita folllowing close while the head creative was in deep discussion with Cena who was known to all as their promotional workhorse.
Chris saw Brian's cellphone on the table unguarded, swiped it up for a moment to admire the detail.
Clicking through some of the buttons though, he realized that the man had Shawn Michaels on speed dial for whatever reason.
The Canadian smiled as an idea began to crop up in his head and began typing out something in quick movements, checking to see if Brian was watching.
He wasn't.
Done, he placed it right where he'd picked it up, took the box next to the door and left as he whistled a merry tune which sounded vaguely like his entrance theme......
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
Back at the headquarters...
BOY was that big cup of orange juice satisfying !
Thirst quenched and extremely happy to put behind everything sign that he was a weakling in the past , he executed a PERFECT throw of the empty paper cup in his hand right into the garbage bin . He was too relieved and happy to take note that it was same garbage bin that he had dumped his showstopper’s attire moment ago, and someone had just cleared them away.
He walked towards his locker room and locked the door, wanting to settle himself in for a quiet night before his match, when he suddenly took note of his cellphone on his study.
DAMMIT !
He forgot to bring it along with him when he visited the cafeteria . and there was a message waiting for him.
SHAWN MICHEALS
Stupid sms .
He mumbled as he fumbled with the keypad to check out who sent him that message.
WHY SMS when you can call?
He blinked disbelievingly when he read the message…
Shawn ,important and urgent development to be discussed. My office , ASAP~ Brain.
That was unusual . Brian knew he HATED SMSes . It had been always a running joke for the Showstopper to complain about the " small screens that make eyes blind" to the writer . The writer was always courteous enough to call him whenever they have a meeting.
The worst part was , this SMS sounds too important to be ignored , even though he desperately needed some “ alone” time before his match and some rest – especially after the thorough spring cleaning of his wardrobe
He headed out once more, carefully checking his locker room door is locked before he disappeared from view down the narrow hallway. He did not notice one pair of eyes, well hidden from him and watching his every move intently...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Roughly Twenty minutes later...
After walking past 2 blocks of building , climbing not less then 20 flight of stairs (since the office building is STILL new and the elevator is still not yet functional until next week ), and questioning not less than 10 securities and backstage workers , He finally reached Brain’s office – only to discover some shocking truth behind the sms that was sent to him
SHAWN MICHEALS
WHAT!.... I didn’t know where your new f@##$ing office is . I travelled 2 blocks , almost beat the crap out of a rude security who was rude and refused to show me the way to your office .Climb those darn stairs since the elevator is not functioning , and dragged myself all the way UP here . After all these , I finally reached you - And you said it wasn’t you who smsed me ?
Brian Gerwitz
You know me Shawn – I’ll always call you whenever there is a meeting
The writer and the showstopper stared at each other . Neither saying a word for a long time.
The writer seemed lost at the Showstopper’s accusation. He stared bug eyed at the tiny screen of the Showstopper's cell phone when he was shown the sms he had “ sent” the Showstopper.
The Showstopper knew the writer was telling the truth , yet it was his number CLEARLY stated on his cellphone.
SHAWN MICHEALS
Comeon Brian . This is not April Fool . That is YOUR number on my cellphone here.
Brian Gerwitz
I swear I didn’t know what happened .
SHAWN MICHEALS
Well then , the sms magically sent itself when the cellphone is in your pocket. If any news crop up of this mysterious person who summoned me all the way here . Do let me know .
The Showstopper left the writer’s office with that sarcastic remark , and the writer sitting dumbfounded on his office chair as he slammed and walked out of his office door .
He was agitated that the writer had denied summoning him all the way to the office block without ANY apparent reason.
Or was Brian telling the almost impossible truth ? that someone had just used his cellphone to play a prank on him ?
_________________________________________________________________________________________
The room looked like any other from first glance.
No different the facade was to Batista's.
Orton's.
Or Cena's.
The golden name plaque hanging on the door read 'Chris Jericho', with 'The Lion's Den' scribbled just below it in big, black permanent marker.
Todd Grisham whizzed in front of it like a flustered duck, probably in pursuit of another star for an interview before it finally creaked open.
A head popped out from behind it; Blonde and puck-like.
Ice-blue eyes darted back, forth and back again like a tomcat wary of its surroundings.
His face was smudged a little with green, his attire mussed up with paper scraps, glue and other odd things.
Finally satisfied that the coast was clear, Chris smirked a mixture of secret knowing and satisfaction of a job well done as he slitheringly slipped out of the room and gently closed the door until the 'clack' of a latch sounded.
He fiddled a bit with the keyhole with a paperclip and what looked to be a spare key of some sort.
Tried out the door and found that it was locked---just as it had been when he had come by not too long ago.
Excellent.
He was going to have to kiss the locksmith for sharing that little tip with him later.
The fact that Mr.Locksmith was Irish, bearded and tipping 50 wasn't material to him.
"Sir, I have to ask you....is that authorized?"
A backstage hand had passed by, and then backtracked quickly when he realised what Chris was up to.
"Authorized?"
Chris echoed sarcastically as he drew himself to his full height.
Which wasn't much anyway, at 5'10, but he still made for an intimidating figure---kind of like a rabid jack russell.
"Authorized? Jackass, it's my room and I can damn well authorized whatever the crapola I wish to. Besides, with the sort of slack-hack work you boys are pulling around this joint, you'd think we'd start to take our safety into our own hands, hmmm? Now, don't you have donuts and coffee to pick up somewhere for you and your pock-faced little buddies too?"
The backstage worker was more than taken aback. He winced a little under the acid attack and bowed down fervently a few times.
Jericho was very much a Harvey Dent as far as they were concerned, with the ability to switch between good-natured and asshole at the speed of a coin-flip.
"I-I-I-I'm sorry sir. W-we'll try to upgrade our security, I promise you. Again, I didn't mean to intrude, please."
He apologized profusely as Chris chuckled a little.
"Whatever, alright Junior? Here's a twenty. Coffee and donuts on me for the other monkeys too."
He said, taking a green bill out of his pants pocket, slipping it into the surprised worker's hand before grabbing the man by the shoulders to turn him around and roughly shove him down the corridors to a very loud "HEY!!!!!"
"Now hit the bricks!"
He watched as the chap scarpered off. Once the was sure that the man was gone, he looked at the name plaque and shined it up real good. There was a smirk on his face as he took off the plate to reveal that there was another beneath it.
The original one which read 'Shawn Michaels'.
Rubbing off a visible thumbprint, he wiped that clean as well, admired his handiwork before walking down the opposite direction of the corridor; tossing a can of green spraypaint in his hand while humming a tune that vaguely sounded like Shawn's 'Sexy Boy'....
___________________________________________________________________________________________
Finally , he was back at his locker room ,agitated that most of his valuable time before his match was wasted away looking for the writer which did not even intend to meet him in the first place.
He sensed something different the moment he arrive at the front door , but he couldn’t seem to put a finger on what was it .He opened his locker room door , the keys still work pretty well-
Strange .
The moment he shut the door behind him was the moment he
started to realize that something was AWFULLY WRONG .
That sounded different
He fumbled in the darkness for a few moments .Trying to get his own locker room door opened , to not much avail.
Lights ... he needed lights ...
The moment he switched on the lights in his locker room , he momentarily stopped in attempting to free himself from his own locker room , because more terror just unfold before his eyes.
On his desk ...
A pile of smashed glass.
The T.D.O picture frame was SMASHED to pieces , The picture was TORNED to unrecognizable shreds.but miraculously ,the sweet picture of him and his wife was spared
He saw something green seeping through the door of his wardrobe .
He walked over to it , only to discover MORE disturbing mess.
Morrison's mink coat , his T.D.O T shirt , all been spray painted and dumped with GREEN paint !
Its like Karma hitting him full fledge as hunter and him LOVED to play that prank on those who opposed them back in their DX days .
Morrison and Stephanie will KILL him for this . Their prized gift to him ended up covered in green ooze.
He yelped when he was shocked the HOLY HELL at the sight of his showstoppers attire that he thrown away moments ago reappering in his wardrobe . They were safely tucked aside in the drawer , miraculously spared from the green paint's assault .
SHAWN MICHEALS
WHO IS PLAYING THESE SILLY GAMES WITH ME ! I ORDER YOU TO STOP IT RIGHT HERE! RIGHT NOW ! YOU HEAR ME ?!
He shouted to no one .
Then , he spotted something yellow by his television set .
Hey , what was that on his television ?He rarely stick things on his television set .
He walked closer , and discovered a little " stick on " note pasted at the edge of his television.
"Shawn, having a dumpski day ? turn to channel 73. I'm sure you'll love the show. =D"
The perpetrator at work - AGAIN!
Enraged , he tore the" stick on" note to pieces before decided to switch on his television set just to play along .
He was about to discover who it was ... and give him the a@@#$# whooping of a lifetime !
________________________________________________________________________________________
Somewhere in the ring, Chris Jericho was striding around confidently.
He had taken a change of clothes with him since his visit to Shawn's locker room, the smile on his face like that of a cat that ate the canary.
There was a mic in his hand, but he kept starting at an imaginary wristwatch which so happened to be the black wristband he wore.
The crowd was cheering, a few laughing at his audacity and sheer nerve.
King, who sat behind the announcing table was besides himself; Rolling around in little shitgiggles over the PA that saw JR stamping a boot on his foot so that he could regain his composure for worldwide broadcast.
The color commenator shut up at once, though he still had his face buried in his arms and his back silently shook with laughter.
"You will excuse my incapacitated partner, ladies and gentlemen. Looks like Chris Jericho has a rather unsavory surprise in store for Shawn Michaels!"
JR commented as he leaned forward in his seat.
"While my skill as an interior decorator leaves much to be desired, I'm assured Shawn Michaels will enjoy my little....'token of appreciation'. Because ladies and gentlemen, even though my idea of a good night facing off with this man on a matchcard is my foot planted in his chest as that pimple-faced referee slams down his fat little hands and counts it one---two---three, I still respect him."
The cheering now gave way to a few jeers.
"This is serious bussiness, folks. I really do. I mean, c'mon. Everyone knows the story of Chris Jericho. Young grasshopper aspiring wrestler who used to do DDTs and suplexes on unprotected equipment, which hurt like a bitch---don't try this at home kiddies. But we're all forgetting that The Ayatollah of Rock an' Rolla' got his rolicking good moves from a man who used to be called a Sexy Beast himself, instead of the spineless, cowardly jellyfish that he is today. I took it to him tonight when I found that he decided to desecrate my childhood by tossing out the only remnants to the Michaels I knew. The Michaels I looked up to. And I'll pick out a nice little quote from ya, Shawn..."
He leaned againts the ropes, staring dead right into one of the cameras as he mimicked Shawn's trademark rough Texas drawl.
"You don't diss the chaps, brother."
A loud cackle of laughter broke out from King's headset as JR elbowed him roughly in way of telling him to shut up.
The crowd seemed to be enjoying the show as well.
Somewhere backstage, he could imagine Shawn tearing up every piece of furniture in his room.
The cleaners would be having a field day with this one, but damn if he hadn't indulged in such a spot of fun for so long.
He could also imagine Shawn seeing that note, ripping it to pieces and then picking up the remote to....
"So for Shawn Michaels, who I know is currently watching this show at this very moment on his 1980s TV set...."
........................................................................................................
Somewhere backstage, Sgt.Slaughter was making his rounds when a LOUD SCREAM from Shawn Michael's room sent him flying out of his Combat boots.
"What in the name of Jimmy Carter?!"
The Sarge exclaimed, coming to his senses as he heard what sounded like trashing inside the room.
It was locked.
Enemy in the blankets!
Sound the alarm!
"Son!"
Slaughter called out, trying the lock again. He slammed his weight on the door once, twice.
The trashing continue and another roar was heard.
Was Shawn fighting for his life againts some intruder?!
Now he was REALLY worried.
"SON! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! Hold on, alright? Don't you DARE go down on me, Twinkletoes! Security! GET YOUR PINKY COMMIE BUTTS HERE AND GET THIS damn DOOR OPENED!!!"
.......................................................................................................
"...I hope you enjoyed a little trip down memory lane? Of course, I could have chucked in my DVD sets to for your viewing pleasure, but I remembered that a mildly retarted chimpanzee can work a VCR player better than you, my technologically-impaired fiend. I consider myself lucky that you've retained enough 20th century know-how to work a basic remote. So how about all that green, eh Shawn? Reminds you of the good old days, don't it? How about a little dancing, prayers before the pyro? A little Sophomoric school trip pranking? Maybe a little fun at the expense of Coach, or Todd or even the popcorn vendor on the fifteenth row---yes, I'm talkin' about you, Marty."
Somewhere on the aforesaid row, a popcorn vendor indeed shook a threatening fist at Chris as King let out another loud guffaw.
A sharp BZZZTT!!! followed immediately after as JR shoved him right off his seat and went on as though nothing had happened.
"Owww!"
The Color Commentator cried out as he grabbed his headset which had been thrown off in the fall.
"Now will you listen to me?"
"damn if you don't make your points crystal clear, JR. Party Pooper."
"You've had too much to drink again haven't you?"
JR enquired seriously as he shook King's shoulders with some insistence.
"How about those days before TDO? Before the yelling, the bitching, the whining, the craptastic load of emotional baggage for a sack of deadbeats who wouldn't think twice about stabbing ya in the back for that last M'n'M? Shawn, with friends like those, no one needs enemies, and with your current 'woe-is-me' complex, you can forget about winning anything when you're in this ring with yours truly, Senior. Because the Michaels I'm looking to face tonight isn't the one who comes out here moaning day in and day out about 'losing his family' or 'loyalty to the team' or some other emocarnivale. I'm calling for the Michaels who kicked my ass at Wrestlemania 23. The one who guts, the razzmatazz, the balls to stand up for himself instead of being some slut's puppet despot. And if it isn't that Shawn Michaels who comes out tonight, I assure you, your future in this company will be as weak as that itty bitty thing you call 'resolve'."
________________________________________________________________________
With his Television tuned on to channel 73 - and finally knowing who the perpetrator was , his VERY first instinct was to let out a LOUD yell to alert the securities and slamming his body against his locker room door in a futile attempt of freeing himself . He knew he was about to face the risk of been locked in his locker room and missing his own match.
SHAWN MICHEALS
" SARGENT ! WHAT IN THE BLUEST BLUE HELL YOU ARE TELLING ME THAT YOU DIDN'T KNOW THIS IS MY LOCKER ROOM! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN ON DUTY HERE!"
SR. SLAUGHTER
" Mr. Michaels . I am sorry . I'm new in this headquarters. I'm barely into my second week here! The name plate on this locker room door was signed 'THE LIONS DEN' a few moments ago.”
SHAWN MICHEALS
" GEE! YOU EARN A COOKIE FOR BEEN THE BRIGHTEST SECURITY AROUND THE BLOCK ! GET ME OUTTA HERE!"
SR. SLAUGHTER
" Hang on a second there ..."
A few minutes later after been busy on the phone line , which the showstopper could only guess that the sargent was alerting the technician of the situation, the poor security officer finally broke the bad news to the Showstopper.
SR. SLAUGHTER
" All the available technicians at the moment are used up for the RAW Show Mr. Michaels .I'm sorry . You would have to wait about an hour to be free from your own locker room."
An hour! Did he said an HOUR ?!
SHAWN MICHEALS
" SARGENT ! I have a MATCH to attend to tonight! I don’t care HOW you do it . Just ...DO IT ! Get SOMEBODY ! ANYBODY to open my darn locker room . Or else I am reporting you personally to Shane for your carelessness."
SR. SLAUGHTER
" Right away Mr. Michaels .I will try my best."
Footstep could be heard as the security officer rushed off to settle major mess the showstopper was in .Leaving him caught in his own room with his television set still switched on. His nemesis having the last laugh in the ring .
CHRIS 'JERKO'
"...I hope you enjoyed a little trip down memory lane? Of course, I could have chucked in my DVD sets to for your viewing pleasure, but I remembered that a mildly retarted chimpanzee can work a VCR player better than you, my technologically-impaired fiend. I consider myself lucky that you've retained enough 20th century know-how to work a basic remote. So how about all that green, eh Shawn? Reminds you of the good old days, don't it? How about a little dancing, prayers before the pyro? A little Sophomoric school trip pranking? Maybe a little fun at the expense of Coach, or Todd or even the popcorn vendor on the fifteenth row---yes, I'm talkin' about you, Marty..."
SHAWN MICHEALS
See what i mean ?This loser is going Bananas! To HELL with his words that he no longer noses around ! He would hunt me down in every f#$#$ single GODdamn wrestling industry in the world - Thats what it is ! WHAT THE HELL DOES HE WANT WITH ME NOW !
Boy how he wanted to CRUSH that LOUDMOUTH that just COULDN"T STOP YAPPING ! He didn’t even bother to take note that he was not yelling to his arch nemesis , but only to the rookie's virtual self on the television screen.
CHRIS 'JERKO'
...How about those days before TDO? Before the yelling, the bitching, the whining, the craptastic load of emotional baggage for a sack of deadbeats who wouldn't think twice about stabbing ya in the back for that last M'n'M? Shawn, with friends like those, no one needs enemies, and with your current 'woe-is-me' complex, you can forget about winning anything when you're in this ring with yours truly, Senior...
SHAWN MICHEALS
I KNOW my family ! and they will help me in my time of need Jerkhole ! Better than your family that leave you along here rotting like a festering corpse. Where is that Phenomenal Trashbag and that people loser of yours ? You f##$#ing Slimeball BOTTOM FEEDING LOWLIFE! I’ll crush you tonight when i meet you . Just you wait and see
CHRIS 'JERKO'
...The one who guts, the razzmatazz, the balls to stand up for himself instead of being some slut's puppet despot. And if it isn't that Shawn Michaels who comes out tonight, I assure you, your future in this company will be as weak as that itty bitty thing you call 'resolve'."
SHAWN MICHEALS
I said ENOUGH !! I AM the new Shawn Michaels ! The New Icon ! The New Showstopper! FOR YOUR INFORMATION , I AM THE FORMER SECOND IN COMMAND OF T.D.O JERKHEAD ! I will START living up to my reputation today!
Suddenly , as he was having the pleasure yelling to at his own TV set and taking out all his hate on his arch nemesis ...
CHRIS 'JERKO'
Folks, I think we should give his poor old soul some rest .Smile Shawn–o , you're on WORLD WIDE TELEVISION! Oh God Shawn ... you should have watched yourself life on RAW. Thanks for offering some gold candid moments over there living fossil! Remind me to get a copy of this week's RAW when it is on sale
WHAT THE F@##$#$?
The rookie had also installed a CAMERA somewhere in his locker room !And all the while , it was broadcasting him towards thousands of audience that he was losing his temper in his own locker room!
SHAWN MICHEALS
CURSE YOU CHRIS JERKHOLE!!!!
He unleashed a HARD super kick on his own Television set.
The titantron back in the ring stopped previewing life records of the showstopper in his own locker room . But Chris had the last laugh in the ring , satisfied with his mission for the night been accomplished.
