I don't own any of the WWE superstars or the concept of the Real World.

Real World: WWE. Seven WWE superstars. Four male wrestlers, three divas. The Undertaker. Chris Jericho. Dave Batista. Shawn Michaels. Stephanie McMahon. Torrie Wilson. Lita. What will happen when these seven superstars are forced to live in a house together to reach their ultimate goal?

Their ultimate goal: to create a song, complete with music, come up with some catchy dance moves, and shoot a cool video. But will they survive the next 5 months living and working together under the same roof?

Chapter 1: Meet and Greet


Chris Jericho walked the many stairs up the side of the hill, knowing that one of his room mates was waiting patiently at the top. When he reached the top of the hill, he wasn't exhausted or out of breath, but he was starting to sweat. He was nervous. He hoped it was a woman, but the thought of who it could be, who he wanted it to be...

"Calm down, assclown!" he said to himself, frustrated. Then he smiled. "Hey, that rhymed. I'm a natural poet!"

He relaxed and noticed a person standing underneath a tree, staring out over the hill to whatever lied below. This person was a woman with long, brown hair. He only knew one woman whose brown hair cascaded like liquid down her back like that, and that was...

"Stephanie?" he inquired as he stood behind her.

Stephanie whirled around, eyes wide with shock. "Chris?"

"The one and only," he said. "So how's your marriage with Paul going?"

"Just wonderful. Never better," she said quickly. She always talked quick when she was lying. "And how's your marriage going?"

"Wonderful as well," he lied quickly, not looking at her. He grabbed her luggage. "Come on, taxi's waiting for us..."


"Wow, check you out!" Shawn Michaels said to his reflection in the window of the cab he'd just gotten out of. "The Showstoppa! The Heartbreak Kid! Damn, you're so sexy you're breaking my heart!"

"You must be talking to me," Torrie Wilson said from behind him, making him jump. She studied the jeans that were hugging that awesome butt of his.

"You scared the crap outta me," Shawn said when he turned around. His eyes took in the image of his skimpily dressed room mate, who was obviously checking him out, and a devilish smile curved his lips. "Hey, how's about we go for a little walk before we head to the house?"

"Sure," she replied. She watched him as he put her luggage in the taxi.

"We'll be back in a few. Keep the meter running," he told the taxi driver with a wink. The driver smiled and nodded his head because he knew exactly what was up. "Thanks, man." Shawn grabbed Torrie's hand and quickly walked into the park, looking for the nearest bathroom stall...


The Undertaker sat on a bench on the side of a deserted road. His shades covered his eyes, but anybody who observed him for just a few seconds would be able to tell that he was sleeping soundly.

Lita noticed this when the taxi dropped her off at the side of the same deserted road. She noticed every detail of this beautiful man, even down to the intricate whiskers growing on his face. The elegant nose. The soft lips... The way his chest rose and fell with each breath he took...

Batista noticed Lita standing in front of the Undertaker as he approached, walking down the road, pulling his luggage along behind. He felt hot and sweaty. The sun, that evil ball of heat and fire, was beaming down on him constantly, so his suit was starting to stick to his muscular body.

He came to a stop a few feet away and simply watched as Lita stepped closer to the Undertaker, who was apparently still sleeping. She sat down on the bench next to him and looked at him. Batista's eyes widened as she leaned over, like she was going to kiss Taker. What the hell was she thinking?

"Sara?" Taker mumbled, eyes still closed when Lita's lips pressed gently against his. His beautiful wife was there for him, and of course he wanted her body. The sex was always a major part of their marriage.

"Not Sara. Lita," Lita corrected him as she bit his bottom lip and felt his hands touching her, pulling her closer. "But you can call me Amy."

Taker's eyes popped open when he finally realized who he was kissing. "Amy! What the hell?" He pushed her away and stood up, trying to hide the big boner that was making those particular pants quite painful to wear.

"That was funny," Batista said, laughing as he walked up to them. Lita and Taker looked at each other awkwardly, then back at Batista. "Don't worry, I'll keep it hush-hush. As a matter of fact, it never even happened."

"Right. Adam wouldn't be too happy about this," Lita said, referring to her boyfriend Edge.

"Sara would have a bitch attack... I mean, a heart attack," Taker said. He grabbed his luggage and looked at the deserted road. Not another person in sight, and no cars passed by either. "Where's our ride?"

"Over there," Batista said, pointing as he noticed three bicycles nearby.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Lita said. "We have to ride bicycles?"

"Either that or walk," Batista said with a shrug.

"Lovely. Just lovely," Taker sighed. He headed over to the biggest bike. "I call this one." He managed to get his luggage onto the bike. Then he got on as well.

"Then this one's mine," Lita said, grabbing the next biggest bike. Luckily, the only luggage she had was her book bag. It was a pretty big book bag, but it was still convenient.

"I think this one was meant for you, Lita," Batista said, gesturing towards the smallest bike. It was pink with ribbons on the handlebars.

"Looks like it's yours now," Lita said, and Taker snickered. "Let's go."

Batista decided not to get pissed. He'd get his payback, all in due time. He got on the little pink bike. The tires were wobbling dangerously as he started to pedal.

"Come on, guys. Let's get to our house," Batista said.

Lita and Taker shared a look, then started pedaling...