A/N: Well…Jericho was raping VH1 earlier today. Besides, I'm just putting off this packing I have to do. As long as what's her face doesn't see me writing, I'm good.
This is not meant to offend anybody, by the way.
"Bow down to me, assclowns," Jericho announced to the room. The entire WWE, or at least it seemed like the entire WWE, was in the catering room, enjoying a large lunch during a break in their busy day. Long lunchtimes were a rarity with the busy schedule that came with being a WWE Superstar.
"What the heck is he wearing?" Mickie whispered to Melina.
Melina eyed Jericho's outfit. Gone were the usual sparkles and sequins. Instead, Jericho was draped in a cream colored cloth that was dull and possibly dirty. His hair wasn't done as usual; instead it was unruly and all over the place. He appeared as if he hadn't shaved in days.
"I have no idea what he's wearing, or doing for that matter," Melina muttered back.
Jericho brandished a large staff in front of the crowd. "Now, you may be wondering why I'm standing here, addressing all of you today," Jericho started. "Well, the answer to that is simple. I am the one who single-handedly ended the career of Shawn Michaels, with a little help from Lance Cade."
Shawn Michaels stood up from his table, consisting of Dave Batista, Lilian Garcia, and Ken Kennedy. "Boy, what are you on? Acid? You know my career is far from over. Besides, do you realize you just contradicted yourself? You said single-handedly, but then you said you had help. Do you need a dictionary?"
"Sit down, old man," Jericho said, jabbing his staff in Shawn's direction. "Now, Shawn Michaels, could you please stand up for me?"
"You have issues…" Shawn said, taking his seat.
"Shawn Michaels, the Messiah of the Sparkle has just told you to stand up."
"No, I refuse to. Now, this concerns you, Shawn Michaels. I know you love your savior. Well, I am the savior of RAW, the Messiah of the Sparkle. Join me, Shawn Michaels, and you will enter the realm of the immortal Jerichoholics." Jericho leaned his staff against the table next to him and put his hood up over his dirty, blonde head.
"Put that hood down, boy!" Shawn warned Chris, seeing the shape of the hood that Chris had formed.
Chris realized what Shawn was talking about and he quickly pulled down his hood and picked up his staff. "Thank you, Shawn Michaels. Now, Shawn Michaels, are you ready to join me? Are you ready to break down the walls and run with the sexy beasts? It will revive your already dead career. Will you join me in Jerichoholism?"
"I like my religion, thank you very much," Shawn stated. "And why must you say my full name each and every time?"
"Because, Shawn Michaels, I am Chris Jericho."
"That's a valid reason," Shawn said as he rolled his eyes. He took his attention away from Chris as he rejoined the conversation that his table was having.
"DO NOT DEFY ME SHAWN MICHAELS!" Jericho screamed across the room. He hopped off of the chair he was standing on and charged towards Shawn.
John Cena and Edge leaped up and, ironically enough, saved Shawn Michaels from Chris Jericho by picking him up and carrying him out of the room. As they took him away from Shawn, and possibly to the psyche ward, Jericho threw a hissy fit.
"THIS IS NOT THE LAST OF ME, SHAWN MICHAELS! ALL HAIL JERICHO!"
"Did he forget to take his meds?" Shawn asked Lilian.
"I think so."