A/N- Wow- Guys, I am so sorry about not updating in a million years! I feel terrible! I really do love you and all, but I'm on summer vacation and I've been going 100 miles an hour all over the place! The good news is that I finished the Babysitter (the written version) so now it's just a matter of posting it on the internet. Unfortunately, this will probably be the only chapter I can post until next week! So, so, so sorry. But- I need characters for my upcoming fanfiction. If you would like to be involved in this, hit me up on my messages, or preferably on MySpace, because that would be a lot faster. It's our homepage, so if you have on, please send me a message there, but if not, feel free to email me, send it here, whatever. Thanks for reading. I love y'all. I'm gonna get down to it now!

Randy was sprawled across the kitchen floor with half of his body in the refrigerator, looking pale and exhausted. When Adam and Chris walked into the kitchen to get breakfast, they had extreme reactions.

"Whoa- You killed him, Chris!" Adam yelled. Chris ran over to where Randy was and knelt beside him. After nudging him a couple times, checking his pulse (he wasn't dead), and calling his name, she determined him to be out cold.

"Adam, you know, your attitude isn't helping! Should I call the hospital?" Chris said frantically. They had dislodged Randy's tall frame from the refrigerator, and his breathing was labored, sounding like he was having trouble, or had serious asthma.

"How will you pay for the hospital bill? How will you explain this to mommy and daddy? I'm sorry, Chris, but I can't get wrapped up in this. I have to get out of here, Jay is waiting for me at his house. Later." Adam took off, leaving Chris to deal with the unconscious Randy.

"Dear God. Randy, please wake up. Do I need to call the hospital?" Chris begged the dead-looking teenager on the floor, not bothering to try to persuade Adam to stay. At the moment she finished talking, a certain someone sat up in a creepy, Undertaker-ish way.

"Don't call the hospital. I might have to have some mouth-to-mouth, but that's about it," were his waking words.

"I'd call Adam, but I think the mouth-to-mouth might have some libidinous roots."

"What? Libidinous? I'd never do that to you! I don't even know what it means."

"Look it up," Chris said. They then went off to do what they did best. Pretend they didn't like each other from opposite ends of the house. Randy absentmindedly stared out his bedroom window and Chris scribbled on Stacy Keibler's yearbook picture because she didn't like her. Especially not now. That was when the parental units called.

"Hello! THIS IS BOB ORTON! I AM CALLING TO CHECK ON MY SON, RANDY ORTON! IS HE THERE? IS HIS BABYSITTER THERE? WHO IS THIS?" demanded a heavily accented voice when Randy picked up the phone.

"Dad- it's Randy. I'm fine, you don't have to yell. Chris is here. It's fine."

"Where are you, RANDY?" he yelled.

"Dad! I'm at home! I picked up the HOME PHONE! Okay?"

"Randy, don't holler at me, young man!"

"Whatever, Dad."

"Where's the babysitter? What would you think of us coming home early?"

"Dad, she's here and if you trust me at all, you'll let her stay here."

"Fine, Randall, we'll call you tomorrow."


Jay is Christian's real name.