WWE Fan Fiction ❯ The Bad Guys Club ❯ Chapter 7

Author's Note: The first few chapters are PG-13ish, but I rated it for Mature Audiences because there's slash and smut. I don't own anyone or anything, just Teresa. My friend Rosy owns herself. 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.

 

 

The next morning, DX cooked breakfast for themselves and Randy when he stopped by the kitchen. They were unaware that the Street Urchins (drunk from last night) had started a war by messing with their food in the disgusting way possible. “You smell something, Shawn?” Hunter asked the Texan.

 

“No,” he replied.

 

“Smells like hot, moist breath,” said Randy.

 

The alarm clock woke the Street Urchins up, and like army soldiers, they quickly headed to the kitchen downstairs, thinking that they were going to clean up the kitchen and get rid of the contaminated food before the Party Animals could chew them out for it. Unfortunately, for them, the Party Animals were munching on their breakfast, churning Chris's stomach. The flashbacks quickly entered the Urchins' minds as they witnessed the Game pouring the ketchup (that Chavo wiped his ass with) on his hash browns, causing Adam to make a face behind the computer monitor screen. “Seriously, you guys,” Chris said to the Party Animals, “I'm going to change.”

 

“Really?” Shawn said. “When did you decide on that?”

 

“This morning, when I woke up. I-I feel like I need to start all over and be a different person, because I do some crazy shit without thinking. Why can't I change when I'm around good people? I feel so disgusted.”

 

Chris needed prayer, seriously, on top of getting anger management. He felt so guilty that he decided to clean the entire kitchen. When Shawn reached for the tainted cupcakes, the shorthaired blond Canuck stopped him and said, “I wouldn't eat those if I were you.”

 

“Why? Something wrong?” Shawn asked in a concerned tone

 

“No, there's an exterminator stopping by today, and we need to get rid of those as quickly as we can.”

 

“I thought you were allergic to the pesticide last time,” said Hunter. “Remember you had a fever and you were sneezing and coughing.”

 

“I am from the last person who sprayed before we moved in.” Chris dried the dishes and placed them in the sink. “It's a different guy, one of those environment-friendly guys.”

 

Now Y2J's ass feels sorry, thought Adam as he gave the computer to Chavo. He's over there cleaning the kitchen and washing dishes that aren't even his. Whatever, fuck him.

 

“I am so burning in hell for this,” Chris muttered to himself as he scrubbed the counters.

 

Suddenly, Randy reached for one of the cupcakes that had the white frosting (mixed with Adam's semen), and took a bite. “Orton!” cried HBK. “You better pray that you don't get sick!”

 

“Why?” he responded with his mouth full of cupcake and tainted white frosting. “The Urchins made these?”

 

“We made them last night. I'm just warning you because we're getting rid of them. Exterminator's coming over.”

 

“Well, actually,” said Adam. “Randy can eat the ones with the white frosting. The other ones have like bugs on them.”

 

“Okay.” Shawn shrugged his shoulders. “In that case, help y'allselves.”

 

“No!” cried the Street Urchins.

 

“Come on, you guys,” said the Game. “They're not gonna kill ya!”

 

Hunter and Chris Jericho have had a long history together. Hunter could read Chris like a book. He knew something was sitting with him when Chris lies or has that look on his face as if he committed a harsh murder. For that, Hunter doesn't trust Y2J at all. “W-We're kinda cutting back on sweets,” said Chris.

 

“These are good,” said Randy after eating the third one, causing Adam to suffocate his laughter with his blond locks. “You and Michaels did an amazing job.”

 

“Thanks, Randy,” said Hunter, then stared at the fridge. “Why's the fridge bare?”

 

“Oh,” said Chavo, as Chris gave a Cheshire cat grin. “We tried to cook while we were drunk, and we almost dropped the shelves. We're going grocery shopping later—

 

“Buy it back.”

 

“We will.”

 

There was a moment of silence between all six men. Adam chewed on one of Shawn's bacon, and almost bit his tongue when the Legend Killer bellowed at the Urchins, “You guys are so stupid! Really, you are! Let me get drunk and start spilling shit in the fridge! God, you guys are dumb as hell!”

 

Later in the afternoon, the Party Animals searched for pranks on the Internet to get back at the Street Urchins for messing with their food. They have lied about the missing soymilk, and Hunter hoped that they better buy it back. Although DX were known for their middle school pranks, never would they ever go as far as peeing in the sink or wiping their asses with the food, or even releasing their bodily fluids in the frosting or soymilk. The Party Animals finally found one where they would move the beds inch by inch every day, and ran to Adam and Chris's room to do the job. “They sleep here, both of them?” Hunter asked them.

 

“Well, this is Edge and Jericho's room,” replied Randy, “but Chavo sleeps here, too, every day.”

 

They moved the two beds an inch awkwardly, and the Legend Killer felt ecstatic about getting a bit of revenge on the Urchins (after throwing up in the upstairs bathroom when he realized the salty and fruity taste he got from the white frosting on the cupcakes weren't actual extract). The last time he pulled a prank on someone was when he was ten, and now it gave him profound chance to get away with it. They went out to the gym for a while, leaving the Street Urchins with nothing to do around the house. Adam and Chris decided to go outside and hang out by the pool, letting the Chicagoan sun warm their skin. “About last night,” said Adam, “what I meant was true. You are a beautiful person—

 

“Cut the sappy stuff, all right?” Chris replied acerbically. “Look, ever since the whole thing with Benoit, I stopped caring. We dated a long time ago before we had won the tag titles and became close friends. So, I stopped caring a long time ago. When he died, everything else died in me. Maybe, I'm here because I want to gain everything back that I lost, but it's hard when you have three pigs in your way. I hate Triple H. Seriously, I do. Just because you're married to the boss's daughter and you're forced to live here with us for a few months, doesn't mean you can actually own the house.”

 

“Yeah, I agree. Anyway, guess who comes back tonight? Cena, the cheese thief.”

 

Chris stared at the pool for a bit, then stared at the Rated R Superstar and told him to grab the box of lubricated condoms and half-and-half. Adam nodded and came back with the weapons. Chris took out a condom, unrolled it, filled it with a tablespoon of half-and-half, shook it, and threw it into the pool. “Thanks for the awesome time last night,” he said, smirking.

 

Adam did the same thing, but threw them on one of the decks chairs. A couple of “used” condoms later, Chavo stepped outside for a swim, but saw the two blond Canadians messing around with the contraceptives and condiments. "EEEEWW!! You're gross!" he cried, then laughed, staring at the half-and-half they used to resemble seminal fluid.

 

"What do you think of the looks of it?" Chris asked him.

 

“I have no idea, man.”

 

“I do,” said Adam as he mocked the reactions they would get from Shawn or Randy, "'Oh, my god! Oh, my god! This is such a health hazard! There's sex and condoms all over the place!'"

 

Chris gasped. "Oh, my god! Dude, you think someone got laid here?"

 

"'Yeah, I think it must have been those two blond Canadian manwhores Chris Jericho and Adam Copeland!'"

 

Then Chris shook hands with him as he said, "Nice doing business with you, partner."

 

The two blond Canadian Urchins then grabbed the lubricated condoms, went into their bedroom, and locked the door behind them. There, they let their sapphire and emerald orbs do the talking as they shared a passionate kiss. They made out on Chris's bed, and Adam straddled his newfound lover's waist so that he was on top. “I'm so glad you're staying with me for a few months,” he whispered into his lips. “I would go nuts without you.”

 

“So would I, or I would go to jail,” he responded.

 

They took off their shirts and caressed each other's chests as Adam licked Chris's jaw line, straight to his collarbone, and straight to his nipples. They rubbed their thighs and erections together as Adam pressed Chris to the mattress. They began to take off their pants and boxers, letting their initiating arousals free. “Adam…” the shorthaired blond whispered as he felt teeth scraping up and down his length.

 

Adam licked the precum off Chris's cock, then deep throated him before licking his creamy thighs and tipping the velvet two lubricated fingers at a time before adding the third finger, stretching and adding the internal bliss that was within Chris. Chris couldn't help but to enmesh his fingers into the Rated R Superstar's shoulder-length dirty blond locks, almost pulling as Adam caressed his prostrate. “Stop teasing me!” he growled, his oceanic eyes glowing into blue flame. “I hate that!”

 

“You're so finicky,” said Adam as he nuzzled his neck, nibbling away at the vein while inhaling the sea breeze musk, “like a cat, I love that.”

 

“Please…take me…”

 

The Ultimate Opportunist grabbed one of the lubricated condoms and placed it over his hard shaft. He spread Chris's legs apart and entered him slowly. The Sexy Beast whimpered as Adam's cockhead caressed his prostrate. Adam began thrusting in and out of Chris's body, causing Chris to pant and moan loudly into the halls. The longhaired blond started to caress his left chest and nipple, reaching down to lick it. He pulled out then turned his lover over, holding his naturally curvy body and fucking him while biting his shoulder. After that, Adam pulled Chris to his body, and he continued to thrust into his body until he pulled him into their sides and thrust into him again. “Cum with me, baby,” he whispered into his lover's ear, stroking his throbbing shaft. “I know you're almost close like I am.”

 

A wave of white fire engulfed the two blond Canucks as they both came onto the midnight black comforter. Adam hugged Chris's heaving body and emerald met sapphire again as he said, “Wow, we're more of a mess than the Party Animals and Cena combined.”

 

“Yeah?” Chris responded with a catlike smile.

 

Adam pulled Chris off the bed and they both went into the shower stall of the bathroom, letting the lukewarm shower wash the sweat off their bodies. It was round two for Chris as he pulled his longhaired blond lover in for a passionate lip lock, hands all over his body and sopping wet hair. Their tongues danced in rhythm tasting and trying to suck out the life out of each other. They pulled back for more oxygen, and Chris bit down and licked Adam's back before tipping the velvet. “It's my turn now,” he said as entered him with three fingers, teasing him by stroking his prostrate.

 

Then the Sexy Beast entered the Rated R Superstar in one stroke, causing him to grip the door handle and moaning loudly into the hallways, spooking Chavo from surfing the web in the kitchen downstairs. Adam continued panting and rocking his hips into Chris's shaft. Chris bit into his neck, sucking his skin as he stroked Adam's cock and balls fucking his body away. Finally, Chris came, shooting his load into Adam. The Rated R Superstar follow suit, shooting his load onto the shower door. They held onto each other, preventing from collapsing anywhere in the shower stall. After that, they washed each other of the lovemaking sweat that was going on in the shower. After they dried and changed, Chris noticed Adam's cum dripping on the shower door. “Hey,” he said. “Randy obviously knows you came into the frosting that he ate, you sure he's going to know more when he takes a shower later on?”

 

“Oops,” Adam responded and smiled. “Well, neither will Vickie and Chavo when they find out about us.”

 

“I KNOW NOW!!” yelled Chavo from the bottom of the stairs. “I ain't cleaning up your mess, Edge!”

 

Chris smiled and went into the phone room, to call his dad, Ted. “It's about time you called me,” his dad said. “I heard what you did. So, are you holding up fine in there?”

 

“Dad, really, you want the truth?” he scoffed. “I've fought with six of these guys before, and let me tell you, four of these guys are nothing but white trash.”

 

“You're kidding me, Chris.”

 

“I'm fucking serious, Dad, I'm living with white trash. The only ones who are decent are Chavo, Adam, and I. Everyone else is white fucking trash.” Chris was raised as an only child, and his mother or father would yell at him if he made a mess in the house. Maybe if he hadn't wild out growing up or something, he would've never been so ready to fight all the time. “And you know what? I'm afraid I might end up in prison with one of these guys.”

 

“Yeah, because you start it first with your violent, psychotic temper,” Ted said.

 

“But, Dad, you know the thing is—

 

“Respect—

 

“Bullshit, man! These guys don't know what respect is! With the exception of Chavo and Edge, the ones I hang out with—Four guys are in one faction, and there's me and the other two guys. So, there's always going to be a rivalry with the four against the three.”

 

“Chris, please. Why don't you write a couple of lyrics? You're good at writing.”

 

“My lyrics?”

 

“Yeah, call one of the members of Fozzy and send it in to them, you know?”

 

Chris rolled his eyes at the idea. “Seriously, Dad? I don't think that's going to work in this house.”

 

Later on in the afternoon, John came home from attending court in Boston. He rushed over to the computer to check out another flight due to the fact that his court date has been rescheduled (becoming a continuance), and he was sick and tired of going back and forth. “So, what have you three been up to?” he asked the Street Urchins.

 

“Okay, let me tell you,” said Chris, sounding like a fifteen-year-old again. “Last night Chavo put the ketchup in his ass, then I rubbed the butter under my arms and crotch and put it back in the bowl. Then we put the sprinkles in our ass and sprinkled them on the cupcakes Shawn and Hunter made, and then Adam came in the white frosting and re-frosted them. Randy ate one of the re-frosted cupcakes this morning.”

 

“Ugh, wow, you guys.” At first, John wanted to hear about if the Street Urchins have changed a bit since he was gone. Now, he wished he would've stayed back east, because all Chris bragged about was his nasty pranks that DX wouldn't dare to dream of doing.

 

“You know, Cena?” said Chris as he got near one of the kitchen sinks. “I don't know about you, but I need to take a piss.”

 

“SHOW HIM!” Chavo and Adam chanted. “SHOW HIM! SHOW HIM!”

 

So, Chris grabbed one of the dishes that he washed and placed them on the sink, then unzipped his shorts and relieved himself into the sink and onto the dishes, causing John's eyes and jaw to widen and the two Urchins to roll on the floor and roar in laughter. “Fuck this, man!” he exclaimed. “This is my fucking toilet now!”

 

These guys are nuts! thought the Chain Gang Commander. And Chris Jericho, you are 37 years old! Grow the fuck up!

 

Suddenly, they all heard the Party Animals come into the driveway, causing Chris to finish up and run to the dressing room, the two remaining Urchins followed him and closed the door, giggling. “If those fuckers only knew,” sang Chris softly in the tune of Aaliyah's If Your Girl Only Knew, “that we were pissing in the sink, and all over the dishes.”

 

They heard DX and Randy come into the kitchen, looking around for any Urchin-like suspicions. The Party Animals noticed John by the shark-tank bar reading his “chicken” bible, and gave him a welcome home hug. They headed back into the kitchen, and Triple H searched the fridge for anything weird. “I wish I had some cereal, but there isn't any milk,” whined Shawn.

 

“We're addressing that, right?” Randy asked the Game.

 

“Oh, yeah,” he replied.

 

Shawn imitated Chavo. “Hey, it wasn't me, esse. I had nothing to with that milk, maine. You got the wrong guy, vato.”

 

“Ha!” cried the Legend Killer. “You sound just like him.”

 

“Yeah, I bet you ten bucks someone messed with the milk.” Hunter said mockingly as he grabbed the new carton of soymilk from the fridge, imitating Chris and Adam's Canadian accents. “I don't like that assclown, Triple H, eh? He can do wonders with that huge honker of his other than spit water. I'm gonna pee in his shit, eh?”

 

“You heard what he said, right?” gasped the Mexican Warrior back in the dressing room.

 

“They're guessing, man,” said Adam as he rolled his eyes. “We can't show any emotion around these guys.”

 

“You know,” said Chris, “if Bret was here, he'd do the same thing I just did. I got a call from him yesterday, and I told him what Shawn said about him the other day. He was pissed. You have no idea how much he still hates him, even after what he did to him in Montreal. Anyway, we really need to keep it down.”

 

Later that night, the Street Urchins decided to follow two of the Party Animals and John to a Hooters just so they could confirm their research of what manwhores, adulters, and pimps they really were when they go out. Shawn, feeling guilty about disrespecting his faith by constantly going out and partying with Hunter and Randy in the recent weeks, decided it was best that he stayed home and play Neopets or Feeding Frenzy on the computer.

 

At the sports bar, a Hooters girl came up to the Street Urchins and asked them about a good time. “No thanks,” replied Adam as he wrapped his arms around Chris, who was guzzling his second bottle of beer. “But there's three guys upstairs who's willing to have a great time with you.”

 

“Really?” said the Hooters girl.

 

“Yeah, really. They're very, very easy. All you have to do is get them free drinks, and you'll get head like that.”

 

The Hooters girl smiled and went upstairs where the two remaining Party Animals and the Doctor of Thuganomics sat. She smiled and flirted with them. “Hey, you guys wanna see my tits?” she asked them.

 

“Yeah!” said Randy.

 

The Hooters girl took off her work shirt and showed off her naturally huge breasts, shaking them as the Cerebral Assassin poured beer all over them. “I love them Chi-town girls!” cried John as he and the two Party Animals had their fun with the girl.

 

Downstairs, Chris wanted to ruin their fun by watching them, but Chavo wanted to play pool. Adam, on the other hand, grew disgusted at how their three roommates acted. Who are you, seriously? he thought. You guys are aliens from another planet. I've never seen guys act like the pigs they are. It's disgusting! And you're married to the boss's daughter, Hunter!

 

So the Street Urchins played pool and getting almost drunk. Hunter and the other two stopped by the bar and smirked as he saw them stare at us due to the fact that they were loud, while the Urchins racked around acting lame. Unaware that the Party Animals and John left for the limo, Chris stared at the drink on the table and asked Chavo, “You gonna finish that?”

 

“Hey,” he replied. “I'll take a bit of it, and you can finish the rest.”

 

And a few drinks later, the Urchins, drunk, ran to catch the limo, almost falling into the car floor as they tried to get in. Our intention was to piss off these guys, thought Chris. Now, we're wasted, we didn't have any fun, and god doesn't like ugly. Well, except for the fact that the three of us did some ugly shit.

 

When the six bad guys headed back to the mansion, Chris and Adam were a bit spooked by Shawn's loud snoring in his room and snickered, for they thought the Heartbreak Kid sounded like a bear. They changed into their nightclothes and went into Chris's bed. Adam pulled the Ayatollah of Rock `N Rolla on top of him and kissed him on the lips. “I love you, too,” Chris murmured in his sleep.

 

The next morning, John went into the phone room to call his father. “Pop, pop!” he projected into the receiver. “I've been calling you, calling you. It's very important that I speak to you!”

 

“You think the world revolves around you?” his father responded harshly.

 

“No, but the world gotta revolve around me right now before I get locked up!”

 

“Aw, goddamnit! For what?! What the hell did you fucking do, John?! What the hell do you want from me?!”

 

“I gotta pay this fine, man. Because if I don't pay this fine, they're going to suspend my driver's license, and I can't go to court because they'll put a bench warrant for my arrest.”

 

“Goddamnit, John!” John, Sr.'s voice grew angrier. “Every time you turn around, you are always in something. Always in something!”

 

“Well,” the Doctor of Thuganomics spoke sardonically. “It's not my fault.”

 

“Oh, it's not your fault?! It's not your fault, huh?! Yeah, it's always everyone else's fault with you!”

 

“You know what, Pop? That's the last thing I need to hear from you right now.”

 

“Well, I gotta go. I'm busy.”

 

“Bye, I love you.” John slammed the phone receiver and headed outside. He sat on the deck chairs with a bottle of water. Hunter stopped by and saw emotion creeping out from the Massachusetts native's face.

 

“Hey, what's up?” he asked him.

 

“It's my father, man,” he responded. “He gets on my nerves, and it's like I'm talking to a child. Between him and my mother, I don't know who's the troublemaker. They have emotionally, spiritually, and mentally scarred me for the rest of my life, and can't nobody heal those. Not even time, man! These Urchins don't even know what I'm going through. I have to go back and forth, back and forth, arguing to make a damn point. It's like a movie, and that's why I walked out with that cheese. It wasn't because I was hungry and I was too lazy to go to the grocery store to feed my ass, no. I did it because I was sick and tired of people constantly grabbing and grabbing every bit of me.”

 

“You're a strong guy, John.” Hunter patted him on the shoulder in support.

 

“Yeah, it's all good, too. There's going to be a place in time when I got so much shit, and they're going to be the ones asking for my help!”

 

“Yeah, and that time's gonna come. You just wait.”

 

Later in the night, DX decided to go into Chris and Adam's room to move their beds another inch when a couple of small boxes popped out from under Chris's bed. It turned out to be a couple boxes of Twinkies, and they have finally hit the jackpot into mortifying the Sexy Beast. Hunter can finally do something because he always told Shawn that if he ever saw Chris stuff a Twinkie in his mouth one more time, he was going to do something about it, especially since he came back to the ring. So, they grabbed the two boxes of Twinkies, ran downstairs to the kitchen, began opening the spongy, crème-filed cakes, and stuffed the whole two boxes in the microwave. As they turned it on, Hunter yelled, “I got two words for those bastards in there!”

 

And all of a sudden, the Twinkies in the microwave blew up, creating a yellowy, creamy mess in there, and Shawn and Hunter gave each other high fives and laughed evilly at the mess they made, believing that the shorthaired blond Canadian would get angry. DX wanted to cause more pain to the humiliation they were going to add, so as Shawn kept a lookout, Hunter poured half a bottle of hot sauce into Chris's juice, shook it up, and placed it back into the fridge. Then, they ran into the dressing room and glued the cap on Adam's hair crème according to Shawn being disgusted about the Rated R Superstar's obsession with his hair product.

 

Moments later, Chris, wearing a black bandanna, a black hoodie, and black jogging pants, went into his and Adam's room to collect all the dirty laundry when he noticed something not right with his stuff. He noticed the beds being moved, and his chair moved next to the dresser. Hmm, it looks like someone went into my room, he thought to himself as he headed out into the hallway. We'll find out.

 

DX quickly went into the living room when the shorthaired Canuck dropped by and told his fellow Urchins by the computer, “Someone's been into my room again.”

 

“How do you know?” said Adam.

 

“The chair's been moved, and so have the beds. I don't go into anyone's room. I don't understand why—

 

“Let me check.” Adam gave Chavo the computer and followed the Sexy Beast to their room upstairs.

 

“Do not come into my room!” Chris yelled throughout the entire house. “I don't want anyone touching my fucking stuff! I get crazy about it!”

 

When they went upstairs, Adam saw the beds were moved, but didn't believe that the chair was touched as well. “It's been like that the whole time,” he said.

 

“No, it was over there by the desk, and so were my sandals!” whined Chris, pouting. “I'm telling you, man. They've been into my stuff! I'm not having it! I'm not accepting it! I know what I came with, and I swear heads will roll when I find out some of my stuff is gone.”

 

“It'll be all right, baby,” Adam said as he caressed his cheek and kissed it.

 

Chris's biggest fear with living in the house was his personal belongings being touched. His privacy being violated wasn't a fucking good thing. Later on in the night, Chris searched under his bed for his Twinkies, and was shocked to find the two boxes missing. He searched all over his room, but no box, and he was getting pissed. He went downstairs to the kitchen, searching for the two boxes. Unexpectedly, he noticed the crème on the microwave door. So, he opened it and his heart fell to the ground as he saw his beloved yellow sponge cake snacks blown up into a mess inside of the microwave. “Yeah, they went and stuffed your Twinkies into the microwave and blew them up,” said Adam, who sat in front of the computer googling for “Brainless he-slut strippers” (Referring to Randy or Shawn).

 

“No, this is fucked up!” Chris cried at the mess. “This is very disrespectful to me! I feel so disrespected! They're dead, Adam! Look at this fucking mess!”

 

Just then, Randy went into the kitchen unaware of Chris's angst-ridden temper over his Twinkies. “Randy, did you do this?” the Sexy Beast asked him, pointing to the murder scene.

 

“I didn't do that!” he said.

 

“Okay! Okay!” Chris's face turned a bright pink as Adam tried to calm his lover down, and DX, John, and Chavo showed up in the nick of time to see it happening. “You know what?! This is very disrespectful! I just bought those to last for two fucking months in this house. No one should have the right to go and do something like this—

 

Man, is it just me or is Jericho bipolar? John thought to himself while he watched the shorthaired Canadian make a scene in the kitchen. This little boy got problems. Someone must have ruined him as a child. I don't know. Otherwise, why wouldn't he bitch about it right this moment? They're Twinkies, man! Let it go!

 

“What the hell is your problem, Jericho?!” Randy yelled at Chris.

 

“What the hell is your problem messing with my Twinkies?!” he responded with fury in his blue eyes. “They didn't do anything to anyone!”

 

“I didn't go into your room and start blowing up your Twinkies!”

 

“You sure you didn't do this, Orton? Well, whoever did this go fuck your mothers! The next time I buy my Twinkies, I don't want anyone in my room! Ever! That's disrespectful in this house!”

 

Although DX were responsible for blowing up Chris's two boxes of Twinkies in the microwave, the Legend Killer got the blame for it. It was kind of weird when everything goes wrong in the Urchins' lives, and they just wouldn't know what to think of next. And they weren't scared of them, no way, no how. “I'm going to smash up everything in this fucking house until someone confesses to my Twinkies being blow in the fucking microwave like that!” Chris yelled as he slammed the microwave door and headed into the living room.

 

It was getting to be 1a.m., and Adam and Chavo hung out with their fellow Urchin in the living room when John's girl friends stopped by to visit. John came out from the shower and hugged all of them. As much as he loved cheese, women were a strong priority to John. According to him, women seem to have deception in men, while men were often laid back and they were cool. He loved women. Again, Shawn was still sleeping soundly while his Party Animal stable mates and John hung out with the girls outside by the pool, grossing out the Street Urchins. “Those girls will just open their legs for anything!” said Adam. “This is pure proof right here.”

 

Cheating on your wives and fiancées, and being pigs in general, according to Chris, didn't consider being bad. It was bad for their penises, he was sure about that. The Street Urchins went back into their rooms, hopefully trying to sleep through the noise that was occurring outside. It didn't work, as they heard one of the girls daring Triple H to pee in her mouth as John and Randy made noise. Chavo and Adam were the first ones to tell them off. “You guys are getting too loud,” Adam warned them. “Could you please go inside?”

 

“Don't worry about it,” said Randy as he rolled his eyes.

 

“What do you mean, `don't worry'?” asked Chavo. “Randy, shut up and get inside!”

 

“It'll be fine.”

 

“Well, I don't give a fuck! Get your asses inside, now! ¡Andale!” Chavo felt like they were making fun of him, and it was getting to him. He didn't like that feeling at all.

 

Again, Randy and John cheered for Hunter to pee on the girl lying on the floor with her mouth open when Chris opened the door and yelled, “Please, I'm asking you respectfully, because I don't care who you guys bring home! I don't have a problem with that! Could you guys please go in the living room?”

 

“Chris, don't worry about it!” said Hunter.

 

“Hunter, it is going on four in the fucking morning! I wanna go to sleep! You're going to get the fucking cops in here again!”

 

The Ayatollah of Rock `N Rolla finally gave up as he went into his room, but before he could try to go to sleep, he overheard the girls cheering for the Cerebral Assassin to give the girl a golden shower, but Hunter couldn't do it. To Chris, a golden shower was the most disgusting act ever, especially in the privacy of their chambers. The next morning, the shorthaired blond Canuck went into the phone room to call his father. Three hours of rest didn't do well for him. He was upset at how the night turned out. The microwave (thanks to DX) killed his Twinkies, the house was a complete pigsty, but now…as his hand wrapped around the phone, Chris wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Look at the fucking phone, man!” he complained to himself. “They're so nasty in this house! I can't make a decent phone call without the receiver being sticky with syrup! God, this house is a fucking mess!!”

 

Out of nowhere, Chris got up and stormed into the kitchen about to wreak havoc as he yelled at the bottom of his diaphragm, “ALL RIGHT, WHO DID THAT TO THE PHONE?!”

 

He found a frying pan and a large pot, ready to fight. He was the boss of the Bad Guys house, and if anyone dared to take his title away, they have to fight him first. “I'M SO SICK AND TIRED OF ALL OF YOU!! WHERE ARE THE GODDAMN POTS??!!” he yelled as he replaced the frying pan and the pot with the large cake pans from the dish rack and began banging them together. “I'M TIRED OF YOU FUCKING ASSCLOWNS IN THIS HOUSE!! YOU'RE MAKING ME LOSE MY MIND!!”

 

Chris wasn't giving up for a fight. The death of his Twinkies had made the Sexy Beast stronger as he banged on the pans of war. CLANK! went the pans as Chris continued yelling all over the house.

 

“I'M TIRED OF ALL OF YOU!!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“GET UP!!”

 

CLANK!

 

“GET THE HELL UP!! “

 

CLANK!!

 

“GET UP!!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“GET UP!!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“CLEAN UP THIS FUCKING HOUSE!!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“CLEAN IT UP!!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“I'M TIRED OF THIS SHIT!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“I'M FUCKING TIRED OF ALL OF YOU SONS OF BITCHES!!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“I'M TIRED OF YOU!!!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“I'M TIRED OF YOU!!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“I'M TIRED!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“I'M TIRED!!”

 

CLANK!!

 

“GET UP!!”

 

 

 

TO BE CONTINUED…