I know this as been done before, but I had to try my hand at it. All my favorite and most hated wrestlers are featured in this fic, and have been turned into little children. And the McMahon's are forced to deal with them. What more can I say?
I don't know how funny this is going to be…it's mostly just completely insane never-gonna-happen-in-a-bazillion-years antics. You'll see what I mean when you read this chapter.
Vince McMahon was peacefully asleep in his office, stretched out on the couch, in the midst of a happy dream. This dream was one typical of the Chairman of the WWE, involving world domination, wrestlers who did his bidding without complaint, riches beyond imagination that belonged solely to him—and perhaps best of all, absolutely no DX. He was just about to commence with his evil laugh after completing his conquering of the world, when he was awakened by something hard digging into his side.
He jolted awake, fully intent on kicking the ass of whoever had dared disturb him, before he fired them with all the fury of a raging tornado. "What the hell—" he shouted, but stopped when he saw who had awakened him.
Two small boys stood beside the couch, staring at him with wide and sparkling eyes. One had thick, shoulder-length blond hair, and the other was a trifle smaller than the first boy, with slightly darker hair tied back in a ponytail. Both were giggling excitedly.
"Good one, Hunt!" the smaller boy said, and they both slapped high-fives.
Vince stared, for a moment completely dumfounded. Children…in his office? There weren't supposed to be any anywhere in the building, but here they were, in his office. He supposed they must be children of the wrestlers, and when he found out who…well, someone was going to get a foot up his ass. "Names," he said sharply. "Now."
The two boys stared back at him, looking mildly surprised, but not at all deterred by his hard tone. This only served to anger him further.
"Don't you know us, old man?" the boy with the ponytail asked. "We're Deseneration-X."
The other shook his head and released an exasperated sigh. "No, Shawn. It's Degeneration-X."
"That's what I said," the smaller boy recounted, looking mildly perplexed. "Desleperation-X."
The other slapped his forehead with his palm.
Meanwhile, Vince's mouth had dropped open, and he was staring at the two boys as though they had suddenly sprouted three heads. "Michaels?" he managed, his shock evident in his voice. "Triple H?"
The smaller boy squealed in delight and began jumping up and down, clapping his hands. "Yay!" he cried. "He knows us! He knows us! He—"
The other pounded him once on the head, and the boy with the ponytail immediately fell to the floor, where he lay, motionless.
Yes. Definitely Triple H and Shawn Michaels.
Suddenly, the door opened, and another boy stepped in. This one was wearing a hat backwards, a smirk plastered over his face.
Shawn immediately leapt to his feet, as though on a string pulled by the opening door. He released another cheerful cry and ran to the new boy, briefly locking his arms around the boy's neck. "Hey, John!"
The boy grinned at him. "Yo, Shawn, buddy."
Meanwhile, Triple H was glaring at this new boy, scowling, his arms crossed over his chest. "Cena," he said shortly.
The boy returned the gaze. "Triple H," he replied in the same tone.
The two continued to glare at each other like a pair of rival lions, their eyes burning with impenetrable hatred. Shawn looked from one to the other and frowned. "C'mon, guys, can't you at least try to get along?"
Neither replied, but kept their eyes locked on each other. Shawn looked down sadly.
Meanwhile, on the sofa, Vince stared at the three, his mouth wide open, bewildered and not fully comprehending what he was seeing. "Cena?"
Cena turned to him, looking mildly surprised. After studying him for a few moments, he turned back to Shawn. "Who's this old geezer?" he inquired, jerking his thumb in Vince's direction.
Shawn shrugged. "Dunno, but the door says he's the…" He looked at the door, studying the sign upon it carefully. "See…hair…man. Seehairman."
John sniggered. "Seehairman? What's that?"
Shawn thought for a moment. "I think it's a man with lots of hair that we can see."
John laughed out loud at this. "Well, I don't see much hair right now, but I bet he's got lots of it he's hiding."
Shawn nodded in agreement. "Yeah."
Triple H walked up to them, and, giving John one final heated glance, put an arm around Shawn's shoulders. He looked at the sign on the door. "No," H said, "it doesn't say Seehairman, Shawn. It says Chairman."
"Chairman? What's that?" Shawn enquired, looking puzzled.
"A man who's really a chair," Triple H said matter-of-factly.
Shawn looked over at Vince. "He doesn't look like a chair," he said doubtfully.
"That's because he's in disguise."
"Oh." Shawn nodded. "I see."
Well, they aren't all that different, Vince thought wildly, and suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. The three boys looked at him with raised eyebrows.
"Uh…is it just me, or is this guy nuts?" John remarked.
Shawn looked at him thoughtfully. "I like nuts," he said.
Vince laughed harder, and fell backwards, consequently tumbling off the sofa. He rolled on the floor, laughing crazily.
Shawn, being the curious little boy he was, walked up to the laughing Chairman, and studied him thoughtfully. Cautiously, he put his foot next to Vince's side, and gave him a light nudge. He jumped back immediately, guard up, ready to defend himself should the need arise.
Finally, Vince got a hold of himself, and stood, glaring at the three boys. Shawn immediately retreated to Triple H's side, and the children stared back at the Chairman of the WWE with their own unflinching, distrustful gaze.
"How old are all of you?" Vince questioned finally.
Shawn immediately stepped forward, throwing out his chest. "Five, Chairman person!" he announced proudly.
Vince felt weak again. Five years old? There were three five year olds in his office? And as if that wasn't bad enough, two of them were Degeneration-X. God knew what they were like when they were children. Not to mention John Cena.
And Vince had a sinking feeling he would soon find out.
Elsewhere in the building, in the arena, the product of Vincent Kennedy McMahon's semen, the one and only Shane McMahon, was amusing himself by practicing wrestling moves in the ring. At the moment he would get the same shock as his father, he was running back and forth across the ring, bouncing off the ropes on each side.
He was about to deliver a potentially devastating Clothesline to an imaginary opponent (Shawn Michaels, to be specific), when he heard sobbing and small footsteps. He looked around, and started when he saw two boys running towards the ring.
The one in the lead was sobbing, but Shane thought he looked more angry than sad. The other was following him, also appearing furious. This one was dressed all in black, wearing a hat with a round brim, and what appeared to be a miniature trench coat.
The crying boy jumped into the ring, followed closely by the boy in black, and ran to Shane. He tugged on Shane's pant leg, and sobbed, "Edge won't leave us alone!"
Shane blinked. Edge messing around with children? Edge was an asshole, Shane knew that, but he never imagined the 'Rated-R-Superstar' would stoop so low as to bother children. "What's he doing to you?" he asked, kneeling so he was eye-level with the boy. Shane thought he looked familiar, and so did the other one, but he couldn't figure out why yet.
The boy crossed his arms, his eyes flashing. "That creep keeps calling us names. Like, he keeps calling 'Taker 'Undietakie-poo'." He gestured to the boy behind him.
Shane's jaw fell open. Now he knew why the boy in the hat seemed so familiar. "Undertaker?" he managed weakly, staring at the boy.
The two boys seemed surprised. The one who had been crying stopped abruptly, and backed away from Shane, and stood next to the other. "You know 'Taker?" he asked.
Shane, feeling weak, studied this boy more closely. Then realized who he was, too. "Randy Orton?"
The boy in the hat—Undertaker—put an arm around the other's shoulders. "How do you know us?" he demanded.
Shane, Orton, and Undertaker looked around, to see three other boys and—to Shane's great relief—Vince McMahon walking toward them.
Vince looked as bewildered as Shane felt, and he trailed slowly behind the three boys. Two of them, one with blonde hair down to his shoulders, the other wearing a hat backwards, glared at each other as they walked. The third boy was in the lead, waving cheerfully.
Randy's face cleared, and he waved back, though not as enthusiastically. "Hey, Shawn," he said. Undertaker only stared, saying nothing, keeping close to Orton.
The boy took the bottom rope, and pulled himself up. He flipped over it, and landed in a sitting position on the top rope. He grinned at them. "Yo, guys. What's up?"
Randy crossed his arms and scowled. "Edge is being an asshole again," he said with obvious distaste.
The boy's smile vanished, and he gasped. "Randy!" he cried, looking shocked.
Randy rolled his eyes. "Oh, grow up."
The boy looked hurt, and he jumped off the ropes, turning back to the other boy's he had come in with, his bottom lip trembling. Upon seeing this, the two others practically tripped over each other running to him, and both began attempting to console him at once.
Vince, meanwhile, joined his son in the ring. Shane turned to him, closing his mouth abruptly. "Dad…what is going on here?"
Vince shook his head. "I have no idea."
So Shane and Vince McMahon, the Chairman of the WWE and the Chairman's son, two assholes, stood watching as five-year-old Shawn Michaels cried and five-year-old Triple H and John Cena both attempted to console him at the same time, glaring at each other as they did so. Meanwhile, five-year-old Randy Orton and Undertaker talked in low voices, possibly plotting revenge against Edge, who both McMahon's could only assume was also five-years-old.
It was official. This was the worst and most screwed up day EVER for the McMahon's.
Little did they know, this was only the beginning.
Yeah, OK, so the only the beginning was remotely funny, but this is only chapter one. Just wait 'till the NEXT chapter comes along…
But, of course, you'll only get to read it if you leave a review. ;)