WWE Fan Fiction ❯ The Bad Guys Club ❯ Chapter 3

Author's Note: The first few chapters are PG-13ish, but I rated it for Mature Audiences because there's slash and smut later on.I don't own anyone or anything. I'm a huge fan of The Bad Girls Club, so why write a WWE fanfic based on it? Feedback's appreciated. Don't read and/or post nasty comments if you can't handle it. Don't take this without permission as well.

 

“You know what Chris Jericho and his clique remind me of?” Randy asked Triple H and Shawn by the poolside.

 

“What?!” They responded.

 

Randy's natural deadpan face suddenly turned into a smile, then into laughter. “Street urchins.”

 

“They don't look like urchins to me,” Shawn said, picking the dandelion seeds from his ponytail.

 

“Have you seen the movie, Little Shop of Horrors?”

 

“No.”

 

Triple H's eyes widened. “Is that the one with Rick Moranis playing the nerd, and you have this big ass, freaky-looking plant?” he asked.

 

Shawn smiled so widely, that he spoke, “Oh, that movie! Then you have those three girls coming out and singing—

 

“Yeah!” The Legend Killer exclaimed.

 

“That does fit them,” said Hunter. “Eddie, may he rest in peace—He and Chavo always got into everyone's business. They stole my car and crashed it in the middle of nowhere.”

“You wanna talk about nosy?” Shawn scoffed. “Jericho wanted to play the shrink with Dave and me.”

 

“Chris Jericho is the chief instigator and manipulator out of everyone in the roster! C'mon. That's nothing new.”

 

“Yeah, that poison on the burgers.” Randy shook his head in disbelief. “Unnecessary. I'm surprised that he didn't get fired.”

 

“That's because he just came back after almost three years,” said the Cerebral Assassin. “They can't fire him like that.”

 

“He came back with a new haircut and a growing psychotic attitude. They told him he could choose to stay in the mansion if he agreed to go see a therapist about…you know.”

 

“OH!!” everyone exclaimed.

 

They all smiled and stared at the pool water rippling back and forth. They wondered why John Cena didn't join them to gossip about the now-called Urchins talking shit behind their backs. Eventually, he'll come and join them. “So why are they called Urchins?” The Showstopper asked. “Why did we called them other than the fact they are manipulative, nosy sons of bitches?”

 

“Well, all three of us and Cena included were born and raised here, and the other three aren't,” Hunter responded. “So—

 

“Wasn't Jericho born here as well?”

 

“Yeah, but his dad was born in Canada, so that makes him Canadian, too.”

 

“Oh. Hey, Chavo was born here.”

 

“He still fits in with Jericho and Edge. Do the terms, `snowback' and `wetback' mean anything to you?”

 

“You're racist, Hunter, you know that?” Randy said. “You're lucky they went out for groceries, because if they heard you—

 

“We can't lay a hand on each other,” Shawn corrected him. “The boss didn't say not to talk crap on and about each other.”

 

“Right, right.”

 

Moments later, the Urchins came back from the store and packed everything up in the fridge that is thought to be a food cabinet. Chris noticed Chavo still wearing his bandanna and yanked it off his head. “That's rude, man!” yelled Chavo as the short-haired blond Canadian waved it around the air.

 

“We almost got pulled over by the cops because of you!” said Adam.

 

Chavo pointed to his buddies' rocker attires. “And what about you two, huh? You're the one with chains and chokers.”

 

“No, that's Cena,” Chris innocently said.

 

“Cena doesn't wear a choker,” said Adam.

 

“Yeah, but he's the one liable to go to jail anyway.”

 

“For stealing cheese? What kinda person does that?”

 

“One who lives on welfare checks and child support subpoenas.”

 

Adam and Chavo laughed at Chris's comment. They all high-fived each other as they pulled out the Digiorno pizza from the oven, emitting the smells all over the room. They decided to make a shake made out of frozen bananas and strawberries. Chavo added the milk and the ice cream while Adam added the fruit. When Adam blended the mixture together, Chavo tasted it and said, “It needs something. More ice cream?”

“No, I got something else,” Chris said as he pulled out a bottle of rum from behind the plant and poured it onto the shake mixture.

 

This was the only time the Urchins would have fun and make jokes at the Party Animals: the daytime. At night, when they were drunk and high on Pepsi, that's when the claws come out, but they practically own them and the mansion. Finally, when Chris poured his drink, he raised his glass and declared, “To the real bad guys.”

 

“Chris, you're dripping all over,” said Chavo, noticing the pink liquid dripping down his glass.

 

“Oh.” He licked his glass clean.

 

They finally clink their glasses and joked around when Randy strolled over to the kitchen in his swimming trunks. “What's that smell?” he asked them. “You guys making pizza?”

 

“No, we're making soup,” Adam innocently said as Chris smiled.

 

“Bullshit, I smelled pizza all the way from the pool. It's not soup.”

 

“It's soup from St. Louis,” said Chris.

 

Randy clapped his ear. “I'm sorry, it's what?”

 

Suddenly, Chris began speaking with a fake southern accent as he pulled the pizza from the oven. “It's soup from St. LOUIE!”

 

Randy became disgusted as he went back outside by the pool as the Urchins howled with laughter. Then Chris took out a banana without its peel as Adam took out a doughnut. Chris entered the banana into the doughnut hole while Adam screamed out so that RKO could hear them, “I LOVE ANAL! SMACK ME, BABY!”

 

Chris yanked the other Canadian's crotch while “fucking” the doughnut with the banana as Chavo laughed. “MORE…YES…PLEASE!” Adam continued mocking him.

 

“All right, let me clean up this mess,” Chris said, having enough of the fun. “You kiddies run along in the pool with blue balls and Coca-Cola head, and I'll join you later.”

 

The other Urchins quietly sat in the beach chairs outside by the pool. Shawn and Randy cautiously kept an eye on them, hoping to have their two cents on them making jokes. The Urchins turned to them eyeing them as Shawn said, “You two wanna share something with us?”

 

“About what?” Asked the Rated R Superstar.

 

“I dunno, you guys were sure having fun talking your trash about Randy and me.”

 

“So?” said Chavo. “The only thing we were laughing at was the boil on Chris's armpit.”

 

Adam's emerald eyes widened as he nudged him in his elbow, but all Chavo could tell him was to play along. Randy already figured they were lying, since he always knew the entire Guerrero family was known liars, despite the fact Adam was engaged to Chavo's aunt and Smackdown! General Manager. “Whatever!” Chavo scoffed as dipped his feet in the cool pool water. “Do a stripper dance.”

 

“Say what?!” Randy cried foul. “How did you know I was a stripper off nights?”

 

“Oops.” Adam grinned away as Randy gave him the stinkeye. “Well, Shawn used to strip, too! He bragged about it that night after you went back into the house. Remember that bruise on Jericho's arm?”

 

Just then, Shawn folded his arms and shook his head like a four-year-old. “You leave me out of it! We're not going to talk about it!”

 

“Yes, we are,” the two Urchins both said.

 

“I don't give a crap if you are a born-again Christian, Shawn Michaels,” said the long blond Canadian. “You and Orton should show us what you got, then we'll see what we think.”

 

“So you can brag about it to Jericho?” asked Randy.

 

“Yeah, and knowing your friend,” HBK added. “He'll come up with something to humiliate us.”

 

“Fine!” Randy yelled as pulled up his towel around his waist, dropped down, and shook his bikini-clad ass like he was one of those booty-shaking hoes in the rapper videos on BET Uncut.

 

Suddenly, Adam and Chavo roared with laughter as Shawn pitied them and went back into the house disgusted. He was right all along; this was going to be the worst four months that he has to experience living with them. Everyone was going to show their true colors left and right, especially the Urchins. As long as he had Triple H and Orton's backs, there was no way their middle-school heckling was ruining it, but then again, that's like calling the kettle black. Randy grew upset and went into the kitchen to vent to Chris, who was cleaning up the kitchen.

 

“They were just playing around, Randy,” the Second Coming said.

 

“Oh, I know, Chris,” Orton responded. “That's why I decided not to deal with them.”

 

Chris rolled his eyes and joined his fellow Urchins outside as he made fun of the Legend Killer by walking like him and speaking in that broken St. Louis accent. Then, he grabbed a box of cigarettes. “These his?” he asked.

 

They nodded as Chris placed a strip of tape on it and marked it, STL. “There. Now we know what kind of squares are these.”

 

“Speaking of Randy,” Adam said, “the guy is sensitive. He looked like he was going to cry after we made fun of his lap dance.”

 

“Really? How was it?”

 

“I almost vomited in my mouth. Did you know Shawn used to be a stripper, too?”

 

“Yeah,” Chavo added as Chris's blue eyes widened. “We tried to get a lap dance from him, but he had to play the nun.”

 

“That's Shawn for you. Ever since that Playgirl cover and the first version of DX...I'm not going to get into details. But I'd watch out for him. That guy's a skillful liar— especially when it comes to injuries, so the dance?”

 

“He did mention something about his back and knees,” Adam said, and all the Sexy Beast could do is laugh skeptically.

 

“And Randy?” Chavo added. “You just wait when we make fun of him again. He's going to bitching and complaining to his dad.”

The Rated R Superstar gulped the last of his water. “Yeah, and last night at the dinner table was uncalled for. You don't go and air your porn stories while everyone is eating. Where are your manners? I knew that was going to happen! When we were a team, all he talked about was his BDSM sex stories. Whatever. Wait until later. I fucking guarantee you.”

 

Chris mocked the Legend killer. “I'm Randy Orton. I speak in a monotonous robotic voice. I like whips and chains. I like to be tied up and electrocuted. I love to fuck women who are on the rag. Last Thanksgiving, I had sex with a turkey, and I got beaten with a frying pan.”

 

Adam and Chavo roared with laughter. “Man, you're crazy,” said Chavo.

 

They had no patience for people who are going to bitch and nag, and John was watching them from his bedroom. Four months better last for him, there's no way in hell these Urchins were going to ruin his positive energy. Later that night, Randy and Hunter were in the guest room outside staring at the stars. Despite their differences, this was the only time they managed to seal the peace between each other for four months during their stay in the mansion. After that, they're back to defending their grounds. “I'm sick of them bullying me like I have no damn backbone,” said Randy. “There's a time limit when you're making fun of someone, you know?”

 

“You have to let it go, Orton,” The Cerebral Assassin suggested. “They make fun of my nose all the time, do I whine about it? No.”

 

“You don't understand the point of it, Hunter.” Randy began explaining of how he was made fun of as a little kid, being known as a nerd who played with his sister's hand-me-downs because his dad was too busy being in the ring to give him attention. Then he went to the Marines, and while in the Marines, an agent invited him over for a porn role. Not only was he discharged for that DVD that's now out, he was discharged for mouthing off to a superior. Despite the fact that he is engaged, but to settle down and be kicked out from the PTA for having a porn career and being a stripper would be traumatizing.

 

“You're a grown man, and you need to face the music sometimes. Fuck them! They're trying so hard to drive you into the ground to cover up the fact that they're insecure, and it pisses me off to see them do it to you. Keep you head up, man. These four months go by fast. Yes, we're bad, but all seven of us did not show up here to prove it. We're here to change.”

 

The Legend Killer sighed. “You're right. Thanks, man.”

 

The next morning, Shawn and Adam were in the changing room, and as Shawn peered over for his shoes, a thought came to mind as he declared, “Today, I'm going to bleach my hair.”

 

Adam laughed and stared at him in a way that screamed that the Heartbreak Kid was out of his mind. “Absolutely not!”

 

“Why not? You and Jericho are blond.”

 

“Yeah,” the Ultimate Opportunist cleared his throat and explained, “but it wouldn't match your skin tone and—

 

“Yeah, it would. How would you know?”

 

“Shawn, it wouldn't match your skin tone, and you would look like white trash. Don't you want to shed that image?”

 

HBK stared at Adam's green eyes for a bit then laughed. “What! You…”

 

In reality, Shawn never believed Adam was that evil, but he wouldn't dare to trust someone who was going to hit with low blow like he would, especially with the Urchins making fun of Randy. Later that night, while John and Chris were inside, the five remaining guys relaxed in the pool, and that's where things began to rear its ugly head between Adam and Shawn. “I'm going to be honest,” Randy said to the two Urchins wading around, “I don't trust you guys, otherwise, why wouldn't you be here with us?”

 

“Is that why you and Shawn are still seething from yesterday and today?” Adam asked.

 

“Well, you did it again this morning,” said HBK as he pulled his hair back.

 

“Dude, I was just messing with you. I make stupid jokes because I like you.”

 

“You weren't joking around, Adam. You were being judgmental.”

 

“So? What would you know? I always judge people.”

 

“Why do you judge?” Shawn chugged his coke, then his body jittered.

 

“Because it's funny as hell and I get entertainment from it. If I judge, it makes me be just as perfect than all of you combined. You have a problem with it? Let's talk about it now.”

 

And if Shawn Michaels is a perfect liar as Chris mentioned earlier, then everything Edge would say about him wouldn't mean shit at all. They had exactly nothing in common, except that the both of them were being immature little brats. Also, as far as Randy goes, there was no way in hell that Shawn was going to let the Urchins walk all over him.

 

“Actually,” added Chavo, “what he's trying to say is that if we make jokes about anyone in this house, it's because we want to piss you off. We can't kick your asses, but we can talk shit behind your backs. Like it or not.”

 

“Judgmental or not, we're fucking perfect. That's all there is to it.”

 

“Well, you know what, Edge?” The Legend Killer added his two cents into it. “You are pissing us off. Your problem is that you two have biased opinions on how we behave. Like yesterday, you guys had an opinion on us stripping, going as far by forcing Shawn to strip. You have no respect for anyone in this house.”

 

“Neither do you!” Adam scoffed, then mocked. “I love anal! I love it rough!”

 

“You're an idiot, Adam,” Shawn showered his pity on him as Hunter and Chavo watched.

 

“Yeah, well, at least I didn't do a lap dance to make up for the fact that I'm a hypochondriac who gets away with everything.”

 

“Is that so? What else has Chris Jericho been telling you? What else has your friend been telling you? Because I'll tell you what: That man is not your friend. I'm telling you that I have bad knees. I couldn't help it if I won the match against Dave fair and square.”

 

“Whatever.” Adam rolled his eyes. “I'd watch my mouth if I were you in this house, that's all.”

 

“Excuse me?” The caffeine began to energize the Texan's anger as the long blond-haired Canuck smiled so sickly that Randy shook his head. “That is it! I'm going to kill you right now!”

 

“Really? I thought you said you were injured, Michaels. What exactly are you going to kill me with?”

 

Suddenly, the Heartbreak Kid grabbed the pizza from his plate and threw it at Adam's head. “Like that?” he asked, still twitching.

 

“Oh, hell, no!” Adam responded by throwing the salmon at his face, the plate sinking to the pool. “You son of a bitch!”

 

Shawn immediately went into Adam's face as he attempted to attack him. Hunter, Randy, and Chavo watched in horror for they knew either one of the men would go home if they fought. Shawn grabbed the Canadian's arms and tried to twist them. “Shawn!” yelled Adam. “You're going to go home if you lay your hands on me. That's enough! That is enough, Shawn!”

 

CHAWK!

 

“You spit in my face?!” Adam had been playing around with Shawn by pulling his judgmental remarks at him and all he got was a lugie to his face instead of laughing it off. He deserved it since he's used to judging insecure people, and he used to be the same way as well. He tried so hard to get the Texan off of him. Even Hunter and Randy pleaded with Shawn to cool off with them so that the Urchins could have their last laugh of the night. Just then, Chris stopped by the pool to find HBK, high on caffeine, choking and shaking Adam like a scene from Airplane!

 

“I fucking dare you to touch me!” yelled Adam.

 

“What the fuck is this?!” Chris yelled at all the drama that was going on. He stared at the innocent looks of Triple H and Randy Orton, then back at Adam and Shawn.

 

“ASK HIM!” Shawn yelled as he grabbed a handful of Adam's blond hair.

 

“Shawn!” Chris grabbed him and threw him off to the side. “Get your hands off him!”

 

“You get your hands off me!”

 

“Shawn, come over here,” pleaded Hunter.

 

“Yeah, let's go to the happy corner,” Randy added.

 

“No!” Shawn yelled. “You go to hell!”

 

“What the hell happened?!” Chris asked Adam.

 

“This retarded jackass started throwing pizza at my face,” replied the Rated R Superstar. “Then he spat on me—

 

“Whoa! Where'd you get more pizza?! Anyway, please…”

 

Suddenly, Hunter, Randy, and a caffeinated Shawn Michaels went off by the front door. “Where are you going?” Adam asked them. “I need a couple of witnesses.”

 

“Good luck with that,” Hunter spoke sarcastically.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Adam?” Chris scolded his fellow Urchin. “Didn't I warn you earlier not to piss off Shawn Michaels? He's trouble.”

 

At the front door, Randy and Hunter let Shawn cool off a bit, but the pain from Adam's judgmental remarks made it worse. “Thanks for defending me, man,” Randy said. “They've been at it for two days.”

 

“Yeah, and Edge has got some nerve.” Shawn agreed, shaking all over the place from the caffeine. “All day he's like, `I love anal! I love bruises!' And he's got to laugh like he's upper-class.”

 

“Yeah, but you were funny,” said Hunter.

 

“That's not what I'm saying! I confront people when they talk their crap about my friends, and you should know that by now, Hunter.”

 

“But still.”

 

But Adam had a point with the whole thing. Both Randy and Shawn were trouble since day one. When Shawn goes overboard with the Cokes, he becomes this strung-out homeless guy. What exactly in the world makes him think that he can actually fight Adam fair and square? Suddenly, the Urchins stopped by to cause more drama with their mockery. Here they go again, and they didn't give a damn about the pain they caused throughout the whole house. “You're lucky I don't wanna go home,” said Adam. “Retarded bitch!”

 

“That's fine with me,” Shawn said sardonically.

 

“Seriously, I need to get something off my chest—

 

“Over my dead—

 

Adam scoffed. “Can I talk, you son of a bitch?”

 

“You're being disrespectful! All day!”

 

“No, I haven't. You were being disrespectful.” The Rated R Superstar rolled his eyes and flipped his long blond hair back as Chris stared blankly and Chavo laughing at the incident unfolding in front of him.

 

“Yeah?!” Shawn continued his caffeine-laced tirade. “What about today and yesterday? “

 

“Today, I was joking with you! Nothing harmless.”

 

Chris and Chavo laughed at Adam's insult hurling at Shawn as Triple H and Randy looked on shaking their heads. “You know what?” Shawn spoke haughtily. “At least I don't win titles by sleeping around with the boss. So I heard.”

 

“OH!” cried Chris and Chavo.

 

“How dare you!” Adam yelled. “You don't understand the love that Vickie and I have for each other.”

 

“That's nasty and low. But hey, if that's your way of—

 

Adam's eyes widened as Chris and Chavo smiled so big, they couldn't even control their giggles. “Whoa! You're saying I have bad taste in women, now?”

 

“I'm saying you're one of the sleazy, yet un-classiest men I've come across.”

 

“What?! And you're a dumb redneck!”

 

“I'm dumb?”

 

“Yes! You're dumb and a pathological liar!”

 

Shawn turned to Chris, who was still pulling off his innocent look. “What did you tell him, Jericho?”

 

“Nothing!” Chris responded like a fifteen-year-old. “I swear!”

 

“Don't bring him into this, Michaels!” Adam yelled. “This is about you and me right now!”

 

“What?” The Showstopper scoffed. “We all know what you do to climb to the top.”

 

“Oh, really? At least I don't suggest ideas to the boss about screwing people out of their titles. By the way, Bret's still pissed.”

 

“How would you know? Did you call him? No, you didn't need to call him. You have Jericho to turn to.”

 

“Whatever! And I'm not better that you are? Yeah, born-again Christian my ass! You're shaking and you have dry patches all over your face!”

 

“Oh, where?!”

 

“Right here, asshole!” Adam pointed to his own face, and all of a sudden, the Texan threw his Coke at him.

 

“Where is it, now?!”

 

Chris immediately grew upset. Where he was from, or visiting anywhere for that matter, when you throw a drink in someone's face…kick his ass. As Hunter, Chavo, and Randy restrained Adam and Shawn from attacking each other again, Chris yelled, “NO! Let him hit him! That son of a bitch threw pop at his face! Adam, slap the shit out of him! Slap him, man! Slap him! Slap him!”

 

“I dare you!” Shawn yelled at Adam. “Let's see who goes back home first!”

 

Upset as a kettle, Chris almost punched the hood of the limo, but stormed back into the house screaming, “Fuck this! Let me pack my bags before I'll kill someone! I'll never make it back home the way things are turning!”

 

“See what you did, Michaels?!” Adam continued yelling at the Texan still high on caffeine and smiling. “I'll break your fucking smile!”

 

As the Canadian attempted to punch the Texan, Chavo grabbed his wrist and yelled, “Adam! Adam! Adam! Don't do it! Don't do it, Adam!”

 

The two remaining Urchins finally joined Chris inside of the house while Shawn cooled off with his clique. “Yeah, where's my dry patches?!” he yelled.

 

“Let it go, Shawn!” said Hunter.

 

“But I don't do…what he said!”

 

“Who cares?!”

 

“The good thing is that you told them off,” the Legend Killer added.

 

Suddenly, the Urchins came out of the house, with Adam holding an open gallon of milk. Randy and Hunter stepped out of the way as Adam tried to splash the contents at the Texan. No matter how hard Shawn used his arms as a guard, the milk ended up on him or the concrete. By the time the jug was empty, Adam threw it at Shawn's head and yelled obscenities. The Urchins stormed back into the house, and Chris was screaming around the living room. Obviously, the noise made John Cena want to choke him. “Yo!” He yelled from the top of the stairs.

 

“What do you want now?!” Chris yelled back.

 

“It's going to be 11pm, and you're making all this damn noise!”

 

“So? We're not bothering you! Go back to bed, Cena!”

 

“You know what?” John ran down the stairs to the computer in the kitchen. “I ain't gonna stand here and argue with you three, especially you, Jericho. I don't mess with crazy people.”

 

“You wanna see crazy?!” Chris screamed at him. “I'll show you fucking crazy!”

 

“Jericho, will you please stop?” Chavo pleaded.

 

“No, fuck this! Let me pack up and leave because I know for sure that I will be locked up and I will never make it back home!”

 

“We have each other,” said Adam. “Those guys are going to get it. Did you see Randy? He's was all like, `We're cool, right?' NO, we're not fucking cool!”

 

“Randy?” Chavo scoffed. “Look at Shawn. He tweaks up on the Cokes and he starts throwing it at you. Then he tries to attack you? This man needs to go home.”

 

An hour later, after everyone has calmed down and went to bed (and John playing games on the computer in the kitchen), Adam cleaned up the living room when he noticed Shawn walking to the phone room. That's when he decided to torment him some more. “Hey, slut!” he yelled singsong. “Jehovah's whore! Coca-Cola bitch!”

 

“Edge, I am not in the mood to mess with you,” the Texan replied.

 

The Canadian's emerald eyes glowed a bright green of evil as John looked on and smiled. “Who the hell are you gonna call, your minister, who's actually your pimp?”

 

“No, I'm calling for a doctor's appointment.”

 

“Poor you, really. Jericho was right, you would lie your way to get what you want.”

 

Craziness in this damn house! John thought as he continued to play games and eat the leftover pizza from the fight.

 

“At least I don't sleep around to get what I want,” said Shawn as Adam followed him to the phone room.

 

And while Shawn continued to talk to his family on the phone, Adam whined and scoffed at the fact that he owned him. Big time. He even swung the broom around to gesture a beheading. “This is so not fair, God,” he whined. “This is so not fair. I didn't wanna come here to live with this wannabe, strung-out, homeless guy who sells bibles for health insurance. I just wanna….UGH!! I'm done with you, Shawn. You disgust me! You really do, and for that, die slow. Die, die, die, overdose, and die some more! Goodnight, you douchebag! Goodnight, you Coke bitch! Goodnight, you skank!”

 

SLAM!

 

“I ain't saying shit,” John said, appalled at the childish behavior exchanged between Shawn Michaels and Adam Copeland. “This reminds me of a scene from Mean Girls.”

 

TO BE CONTINUED…