A few apologies regarding this chapter, and not just because of the fact that it's very, very late; I spent a hell of a lot of time on the fallout from the last chapter, random conversations and pre-scavenger hunt item discussions. As such the space reserved for the scavenger hunt item itself was scrunched up quickly at the very end. Once again, my apologies.

Another note – I know nothing about football. Just want to put it out there before anybody who is knowledgeable reads through this chapter.

Thanks go out to Esha Napoleon, who came up with the scavenger hunt item for this chapter of the story!

Acknowledgements: The song 'Guy Love' was taken from Scrubs (Season 6, Episode 6, 'My Musical'). The Houston Cougars and the Louisiana-Lafayette Ragin' Cajuns are property of their respective owners.

Date Uploaded: 26 May 2009

Chapter 04: Little Spandex Briefs

In the parking lot of WinkeyDoodles Paintball Adventures, Jeff Hardy was seated at the door of his team's SUV while Maria Kanellis wiped his arms and face down with Handi Wipes. Maria and the rest of her carpool buddies had driven by about ten minutes prior, evidently lost, and had happened upon them. After being briefed quickly on what had happened, the rest of the girls opted to giggle while Maria felt sorry for the sullen Jeff and had gone to see if she could help clean him up. Green and orange paint tended to be rather hard to get rid of using only a few wipes, but she was doing her best, and Jeff usually didn't have a problem being covered with copious amounts of paint anyway.

The younger Hardy Boy currently did have a problem with the rest of his teammates, and he sulkily said, "You know you guys could have just talked me into calming down, instead of brutally attacking me and taking me out."

"Jeff, you popped off a twelve-year old girl when her back was turned to you and made her cry," London pointed out. "You were out of control."

"That was only after she tried to take me out like some sort of little ninja sniper!" Jeff defended. "You saw it, right Spanky??"

Spanky was saved from replying when Matt aired out the freshly coated Hardyz Xtreme shirt that Jeff had been wearing. He held it up and grinned. "I think that'll serve its purpose." He then frowned and said, "I'm kind of apprehensive as to what Jericho will ask for next, though."

"Well considering you asked one of the biggest assholes of professional wrestling, and that's when he's being nice, along with D-freakin'-X to arrange your scavenger hunt, it could be positively anything," Mickie said not-so-helpfully.

"And you practically have your first casualty already," Michelle McCool commented, gesturing to Jeff.

Jeff groaned and examined his bare torso, which was already beginning to show the first signs of bruising. "I'm going to look like a tree in autumn by the time this trip ends," he observed astutely.

"Hey guys, come on, we have to hit the road again or those douchebags on the other team might overtake us," Punk reminded everyone.

At that moment a graphite-colored Toyota Kluger sped by on the main road. It screeched to a halt, backed up quickly and rather dangerously, and then the horn blared loudly as the windows were rolled down. "What's up, bitches??" Miz yelled out mockingly, parts of his body still colored red and blue.

"You guys better get your asses in gear if you're going to catch up to us!" Randy called out.

"Later losers!" Morrison hooted, and then the SUV tires gave a squeal as the vehicle careened off again, Miz's paint-covered Chick Magnet shirt visible in the back window.

"Shit!" Jeff exclaimed, standing up abruptly and knocking Maria to the ground in the process. "We can't let those assholes take the lead! Come on, we have to get back on the road!"

"Well that brought some life back into him," Mickie said, helping Maria to her feet.

"A little too much," Spanky grumbled, unwrapping a Snickers bar. Jeff promptly grabbed it from him before he could take a bite. "Hey!"

Matt sighed as Spanky scrambled into the backseat with Jeff and the two of them began to scuffle over the candy bar. "Well thanks for the help, girls, looks like we're off again. Come on, Punk, I'll take over driving for now."

"See you at Tampa, ladies!" Cena called as he climbed into the middle seats with CM Punk. "Or, if things go really bad, you'll get a call from us to pick up a naked Spanky in the middle of the I-10."

"Wait, what??" Spanky exclaimed, allowing Jeff to elbow him in the gut and wrench the candy bar away from him again.

The divas waved as the guys pulled out of the parking lot and then headed off after the other team as fast as Matt's perennially harried driving skills, not to mention the speed limit, would allow. It was then that Kelly Kelly asked, "Hey, so, did anybody get to ask them directions on how to get back onto the I-45?"

There was a moment of silence as Maria blinked, Ashley turned crimson and Michelle bit her bottom lip. And then Mickie let out a loud groan and yelled, "SHIT!"

***

If Team Face had known that Team Heel had technically taken a wrong turn themselves, they probably wouldn't have rushed off so abruptly. This was largely in part due to Randy Orton, who had taken over Carlito's navigating duties while the Pacesetter of Cool was helping Morrison in getting the Miz to regain full consciousness. Following their exit from Krossfire Paintball Park, Carlito and Morrison had ripped the ruined t-shirt off their companion, much to the surprise of onlookers, and then fairly flung him into the backseat of the SUV. As Kennedy gunned it, Carlito and Morrison went about slapping Miz back into full consciousness.

"You know, if you add a couple of white stars and stripes, we could strap him to the top of the SUV and he could serve as a living flag," Edge said.

"I'm awake now," Miz had snapped irritably, and then moaned as he clutched his torso. "I feel like I just got tenderized."

"What do you mean we took a wrong turn??" Kennedy then yelled from the driver's seat.

"Relax, will you?" Randy said back. "Just go down this road and we can take a different route!"

And that was about the time when they passed the other team. It was Edge who let out an exclamation and pointed them out, to which Kennedy hurriedly backed up and Miz came to life so that they could taunt their opponents. And then they had taken off again.

"Well at least now we know exactly where the other team is," Morrison said.

"Yeah, like two minutes behind us," Edge said. "We've got to widen the gap."

Out of the blue the Miz groaned again and lay down on the backseat, practically putting his head on Morrison's lap, causing his tag team partner to jostle him off irritably. "Seriously, dudes, I thought I was all right, but it's like my insides have turned into mush. And look, I'm starting to bruise already!"

"Oh suck it up, would you?" Kennedy said, annoyed. "It looked like Jeff was the one who took the challenge for his team and he didn't look like he was dead to the world – he was just sitting there."

"Actually, Jeff 'sitting there' is the equivalent of a coma for normal people," Edge spoke up. "If he's not bouncing around like a cricket then he's not feeling too good."

At that Miz gave another groan. Randy turned around in his seat impatiently and said, "It's hard to concentrate when you're making that noise that sounds like a cow being sent through a meat packer."

"Oh I'm sorry, then maybe we can switch places; I'll be the crappy navigator while you sit in the back and be the one in pain," Miz snapped at him.

"That was one lousy turn I didn't call!" Randy defended himself.

"Which cost us our wide lead; why don't you give the laptop back to Carlito before you hurt yourself?" Carlito said to him.

"All right, guys, that's it!" Edge suddenly exclaimed, making everybody turn to him, with the exception of Kennedy, who glanced at him briefly through the rear view mirror. "Now those guys in the other SUV may be morons who have a hyperactive adrenaline junkie and a guy who can't control his bladder, but I'm willing to bet that they're a much closer knit group than we are. And I don't know about you, but I don't want to lose to those fuckwits just because the six of us can't function as a cohesive unit."

"Are you going to make a point, Edge-ward, or is that the extent of your pseudo-motivational speech?" Kennedy said bitingly.

"I was coming to my point," Edge retorted. "We have to work together in order to beat the other team. And in order for that to happen we have to… get along."

There was a moment of silence as everybody in the vehicle contemplated this. None of the guys could ever claim to be the best friend of the person sitting next to them, with the possible exception of Miz and Morrison, and even they squabbled half the time. The silence was further extended when one by one the guys realized that Edge was right – for the sake of the race, they would have to make an effort to get along with each other.

"Are we agreed?" Edge presently asked.

"Agreed," Randy sighed, and everybody else mumbled an affirmative. "So what do we do now? Share kisses and paint each other's toes as a bonding exercise?" the WWE Champion couldn't resist saying sarcastically.

"Nothing that drastic," his Smackdown counterpart said in exasperation. "All right, I have a suggestion, and it's going to be horrible, but it worked for La Familia when we once went for a group counseling session."

"La Familia went to a counseling session?" Carlito commented, a wide grin spreading on his face.

"It's not as funny as you think, so shut up," Edge snapped. "One of the first things we did to bond with each other was to turn to the person on our right and say one good thing about him."

Morrison looked at him, horrified. "You're not suggesting that we do the same here, are you?"

"No man, I'm suggesting that you put on those animal print thongs and give Orton a lap dance," Edge said derisively. "Of course I'm saying we should try the bonding exercise."

"That's a totally shitty idea," Kennedy immediately said.

"I know being nice is a stretch for all of us here, but I'm willing to try anything that might help. Fine, I'll even go first," Edge volunteered. The turned around to face Morrison. "You, uh, wear those sunglasses and sideburns just as well as I do, if not better."

"Hey, thanks, man," Morrison said, looking surprised at the compliment. He then looked at his tag team partner, who gave him an expectant grin. He sighed. "All right, I concede that when it comes to tag team partners, you are definitely the one I like best."

"Yes, I knew it!" Miz said, pumping a fist in the air.

"That's not saying much," Randy snickered.

"Hey, no snide comments!" Edge quickly admonished.

Miz cleared his throat and said to Carlito, "You're cool. Seriously – anybody who's managed to make out with both Trish Stratus and Torrie Wilson in the space of two months is cool with the Miz. Hey, us chick magnets got to stick together, right?"

"Right…" Carlito said, raising an eyebrow. He then looked at Randy, and then winced as he said to Edge, "Do we really have to do this?"

"Yes," Edge said firmly.

"Dig deep, man," Miz said to him.

"I heard that, fucktard," Randy growled at him.

Carlito scratched his head and then apparently came up with something to say. "I suppose a guy with mediocre talent would never have been able to hold on to that belt for as long as you have."

"You bitch; in no way, shape or form was that a compliment," Randy barked at him.

"Hey, take it or leave it, cabron," Carlito shot back.

"Take it, Randy, for now," Edge cut in before another fight could start. "Let's keep going."

Randy turned to Mr Kennedy. "Hey man, it could have been worse – you could have really been a McMahon."

Kennedy took his eyes off the road momentarily to frown at him. "That's the best you could do?"

"He's RKO'd a ninety-year-old woman, Kennedy – nice isn't exactly flowing through his bloodstream," Miz called out.

Kennedy shook his head. "All right then, Edge – You've got the ruthless and cunning to get to the top, and what's more you have the smarts to stay there. It's actually inspiring, man."

Edge blinked. "Wow, Kennedy, that's really big of you to admit."

"Yeah, and since I'm feeling particularly generous here's an extra warning: I still owe you HUGE payback for stealing the Money in the Bank briefcase from me. Not to mention having to watch you and Vickie Guerrero eat each other's faces on a weekly basis," Kennedy followed up.

"You guys are a bunch of fucking tools, especially you, Kennedy," Edge immediately snapped, apparently forgoing the supportive environment he had been trying to foster until now.

"Aw, and to think we were starting to feel the love," Miz snickered.

The laptop with Randy suddenly chimed. "Yeah, well, the love is well and truly over," he said, and then he began to read the second email from Chris Jericho and his companions.

***

In the other vehicle, a different type of bonding was going on as the conversation had bafflingly turned to how close the connections were between the two tag teams in the group. "Dude, Matt and I are brothers," Jeff said. "There's no closer bond than that."

"Oh sure, because at no point in wrestling history have the team of two brothers ever imploded," London said dryly.

"Hey, Matt and I are TIGHT," Jeff insisted. "Just last week he lied to a cop for me."

"You did what?" Punk asked Matt, looking at him incredulously.

"Jeff was pulled over for speeding and I told the police officer that he had a medical emergency – he had tried a new kind of dye and the chemicals in his hair were seeping into his brain," Matt narrated, expressionless. "She wrote him the ticket anyway. Go figure."

"Hey, still, it was the thought that counted, bro," Jeff called to him. "Next time let's try for a better lie though, huh?"

"I guess no amount of hair coloring can dye the blonde outta this guy," Cena quipped, smirking.

"I can still distinguish an insult, Rip Van Winkle," Jeff said pointedly. He then turned back to Spanky and said, "So what about you and London, then?"

"We're close," Spanky said nonchalantly. "We may not be brothers, but we love each other."

There was a moment of silence as their other four teammates processed that. "Uh, I just wanted to clarify... did you just say that you love each other?" Punk asked.

"Don't give us that look just because we're man enough to admit it. There's nothing wrong with guy love," Spanky defended. And then, much to the stupefaction of the already bewildered four, the tag team of Paul London and Brian Kendrick actually launched into a duet.

"Guy love/That's all it is," they sang together in unison, "Guy love/He's mine, I'm his/There's nothing gay about it in our eyes..."

London crooned, "You ask me 'bout this thing we share..."

And Spanky sang, "And he tenderly replies..."

"It's guy love..."

"Between two guys," they crooned together.

Punk cautiously leaned over to quietly ask John Cena, "Are you as creeped out as I am right about now?"

"If it goes on for another minute I might be," Cena replied, watching London and Spanky with a mixture of fascination and horror.

London continued: "We're closer than the average man and wife."

"That's why our matching bracelets say 'Spanky and Paul'!" Spanky intoned.

"You know I'll stick by for the rest of my life!" London sang.

"Are any of you going to shut them up or am I going to have to drive into a tree to do it??" Matt snapped from the driver's seat.

"Aw Matt, don't be like that," London said.

Spanky went on: "Just let it grow more and more each day/It's like I married my best friend..."

"But in a totally MANLY way!" London sang out with gusto.

"Let's go!" And then they both sang, "It's guy love/Don't compromise/The feeeeling of some other guy/Holding up your heart/Into the sky."

London reached out for his partner and sang, "I'll be there to care through all the lows."

Spanky held his hand out too, causing Punk to dodge to one side, "I'll be there to share the highs."

And together: "It's guy love/Between two guys."

"Yup, now I'm officially creeped out," Cena declared.

"And when I say, 'I love you, Paul,'/It's not what it impliiiees..." Spanky crooned.

And then they both softly sang their close: "It's guy love... Between... Two... Guys..."

"Please tell me it's over," Punk pleaded.

Jeff had been suspiciously quiet the entire time, and once the incredibly uncomfortable duet had finished it was evident why. The younger Hardy brother let out a sniffle, rubbed his eyes and said, "That was beautiful, man. Matt, how come we don't sing to each other like that??"

"On second thought, throw him out along with the first two!" Matt yelled.

"Wait, wait, we might need them!" Cena said, looking at the laptop that he had taken from London earlier. "Jericho's next scavenger item just came through," he said, and then began to read it out loud.

***

The email said:

What's up, Jerkies?

You didn't sustain any major injuries from the last scavenger hunt challenge, right? Not that I'm genuinely concerned, but Shawn suggested that I enquire about your wellbeing in order to be more personable. In truth I don't give two shits if someone got a testicle blown off. So suck it up. Wait, wrong choice of words there… gah.

But moving on, now that you've presumably obtained a paintball-splattered WWE t-shirt, here's item two: Find a college football game currently in session and get two cheerleaders to fork over their uniforms. Hold on, there's more; two members of each team must then don on the uniforms and cheer for the rest of the game. Bonus points if your respective team then wins. Add the uniforms to the scavenger hunt items afterwards.

And once again we require video/photographic proof of the deed. So kick up those legs – Gimme a Y! Gimme a 2! Gimme a J!

Y2J Out!

***

"You're joking, right??" Morrison exclaimed once Randy was finished.

"Yeah, the last thing Carlito wants is to see any of you guys in a skirt," Carlito said.

"NOT IT!" the Miz declared loudly, obviously not wanting to get stuck doing it by the same mistake that had taken in him for the previous challenge.

"Nah, I don't think that's going to cut it now," Kennedy said, gripping the steering wheel. "Jericho and the others are going to demand progressively worse shit as we go along – we've got to find a more practical way of picking who has to go and do these scavenger hunt challenges."

"Already on it," Edge said, having gone about writing their names on strips of paper. He folded them up, grabbed Miz's hat off his head and then dropped them in. He pulled out two names and, with a look of dread, opened them up and read them out. "So the ones who will be doing high kicks in little skirts are... Randy and John."

"NO!!" Morrison howled.

"I demand a do-over!" Randy cried out.

"No such thing," Edge said, although that was mostly because he was relieved that he hadn't pulled out his name. "So let's find out if there's a game going on somewhere near here."

***

Once Cena had finished reading the email, Punk said, "I vote that the two guys just professing manly love to each other undertake this one."

"What? Hey!" London cried indignantly, Spanky suddenly turning pale in the back. "Why us??"

"Two words, man: Guy love," Cena said, grinning at them. "Plus the fact that out of all of us, the two of you would be the least vomit-inducing in skirts."

"Aw c'mon, Cena, don't sell yourself short; you'd look pretty in a skirt," Jeff teased.

"Shut up, Hardy Boy, or I'll vote that you and Matt have to do this cheerleader shit," Cena said to him.

"Wait, WHAT??" Matt exclaimed, avoiding a car that was overtaking them. "How did I get suckered into this??"

"All right, let's vote then," Punk said, calling them to order. "Who thinks Spanky and London should do it?"

Matt and Punk immediately raised their hands, followed by Cena. Matt caught Jeff actually contemplating his decision in the rear view mirror and yelled out to his brother, "Jeff, so help me, if you do not vote on those guys I will come back there to beat the shit out of you!"

And Jeff knew he would too, driving or not. He sighed and said, "Oh fine, but I thought it would have been a good bonding moment for the two of us," and then he raised his hand too, bringing the vote to four against two.

"You guys are shits," London grumbled at them.

"Yeah, whatever, let's hope you shaved your legs this morning," Cena said as Matt stepped on the gas.

***

The only game happening closest within the driving vicinity that day happened to be between the Houston Cougars and the Louisiana-Lafayette Ragin' Cajuns. Kennedy pulled his team's SUV into the parking lot and they all got out, although Edge and Carlito did have to half-shove Morrison and Randy out of the vehicle. From there Randy once again opened his mouth in a last-ditch effort to save Morrison and himself from total humiliation, but Miz wasn't having it and began to sing Nine Inch Nails' 'Closer' at the top of his lungs in order to drown him out.

"For God's sake, let's just do this if it'll get him to shut up!" Morrison finally roared, grabbing Randy by the arm and pulling him into the stadium.

Just as the six of them disappeared into the building, the sandstone colored Kluger screeched into the parking lot, courtesy of Matt Hardy. The doors opened and the face team jumped out, London pausing to do one last run with the electric shaver on his two-day stubble (Because as Jeff had so helpfully pointed out, "Dude, cheerleaders don't have facial hair.") before turning the device off and throwing it back into the car. They made their way into the building as well.

"Okay, so how are we going to do this?" Punk asked the moment they entered, hoping to form a competent battle plan.

"Well first we have to locate some cheerleaders… which may be the most pleasant part of this entire trip, so suck it up now," Cena commented, looking around.

Jeff, in the meantime, had broken away from the group, taking it upon himself to go up to one of the food stand vendors and ask, "Hey, could you tell me where the cheerleaders' dressing rooms are?"

"I'm sorry, what?" the man asked, giving him a perplexed look.

"Whoa, Jeff!" Matt cried, running over to pull his brother away. "What have I said in the past about subtlety?"

"That I ought to look up the meaning or you'll bean me over the head with a dictionary," Jeff answered.

"And clearly you didn't."

"No, but you're not holding one at the moment either so it's all good."

"All right, the Hardy and Hardy show is very entertaining," Punk snapped, making all of his team mates turn to him. "But right now we have to fucking hustle and locate some godforsaken cheerleaders," he stated, just as behind him a group of girls in blue and white uniforms, clearly for the Louisiana-Lafayette Ragin' Cajuns, with matching pompoms walked by. The other five watched them go, prompting Punk to ask, "What??"

Spanky pointed. Punk turned to look and remarked, "Oh. Well, that was easy."

"Let's go," Cena said, beginning to walk over.

"Right," London said, and as the rest followed he and Spanky discreetly tried to sneak away, only to be thwarted when the Hardys each grabbed one of their arms and pulled them along.

Meanwhile, in the heel team, Edge had lucked out and found a member of the stadium's security that was also a fan. Said fan managed to get them to the actual dressing room of the Houston Cougars' cheerleaders. There they were heard out by two leggy blondes who gave them skeptical looks once the team told them what they wanted.

"So let me get this straight," the one on the left who introduced herself as Ashley said, "You want to take our cheerleading uniforms, get your two friends to wear them, allow them to cheer for our team, and then take the uniforms when you leave?"

"That's it in a nutshell," Edge said, nodding.

"May we ask why?" the one on the left who claimed to be called Chloe asked.

"Sexual perversion," the Miz answered with a straight face.

"NO! No, nothing like that, of course," Edge said, forcing a laugh as both Randy and Morrison elbowed the Miz roughly. "Nothing like that. It's a dare of sorts that we're undertaking. It may sound like juvenile shit, I'll admit, but it's serious to us. You could really help us out here."

The girls looked at each other uncertainly. Presently Chloe said, "Well, we'll need to be compensated for the uniforms."

"Of course," Kennedy said, and then nudged Morrison. "You've got cash on you, right?"

"Hey, isn't it enough that I'm half of the duo that has to squeeze into a fucking skirt??" Morrison said indignantly.

"Shut up and fork over the cash," Kennedy said, and then asked the girls, "How much do you need?"

"Six hundred and seventy-five dollars," Ashley immediately replied. "Each."

Morrison balked and said, "You're telling me that one of those uniforms that barely covers your ass costs nearly seven hundred dollars??"

"It's made of special stretchy material," Ashley justified lamely.

"If there's one thing we know, it's stretchy athletic material," Randy cut in, "And nothing costs $675.00, even if you factor in import and labor costs!"

"Take it or leave it," Chloe said with a shrug.

All of the guys were quiet, and then presently they turned to Morrison one by one. He gave them a baffled look and said, "What?? I don't have that kind of cash on me, and I doubt these two take credit!"

"Then let's find an ATM," Miz said, holding up what was unmistakably his partner's wallet.

"When in the hell did you take that from me…??" Morrison started to ask.

"No time for questions," Miz said quickly. "The rest of you guys take Randy and John to get ready. Don't worry, I'll make the withdrawal for you, man, I know your pin."

And so the Miz and Mr Kennedy headed off to siphon $1350.00 out of John Morrison's bank account, while the Shaman of Sexy himself and the Legend Killer were hauled into the cheerleaders' locker room by Carlito and Edge in order to doll them up for the big game.

While that was happening, the face team had also managed to corner two cheerleaders for the Louisiana-Lafayette Ragin' Cajuns. Nina and Lucy, as they gave their names to be, giggled helplessly once John Cena had given them the quick overview of their situation. "So will you help us?" Cena asked.

"We'd love to, guys, really, if for nothing than to see two hunky boys drag it up on the football field," Nina said, "But we can't – we'd so get in trouble for it."

"Oh come on, Nina, live a little," Lucy said, still giggling. "It'd be funny; and these guys are pretty famous, so it would attract a hell of a lot of attention, which equals more butts in seats, which equals a lot more people seeing the team! It's a good thing!"

"Yeah, a good thing," Spanky said dryly, rolling his eyes. "So, uh, those outfits are nice and stretchy, right?"

"Guess you'll find out soon enough," Lucy said, winking at him and making him blush.

"Oh, okay," Nina said, finally giving in. "Wait, will you need our shorts with the uniforms too?"

"Nah, Spanky and Paul have their own stash of little spandex briefs," Matt said, grinning. "Every wrestler does."

"I don't," Cena said quickly.

"Hey, I distinctly remember a scrubbed up John Cena who made his in-ring debut on WWE television wearing baby blue shorts," Punk teased.

"You remember that?" Cena asked, giving him a flabbergasted look.

"Well, we'll be taking your friends now," Lucy said, taking Spanky's arm while Nina took London. "You guys don't mind walking around in a room full of half-naked hot cheerleaders, do you?"

"I see absolutely no problem with it," London said quickly, as Spanky once again turned a beet red and simply allowed himself to be led along with no further complaints.

Jeff started to trail after them but Matt grabbed him by the back of his shirt to keep him in place. "Oh no you don't; you're staying right here."

"But dude, didn't you hear what she said?" Jeff cried, giving his brother a pleading look. "Half-naked hot cheerleaders! I told you we should have taken this challenge together!"

"Why is it that you're always so eager to do a little cross-dressing?" Matt said, annoyed. "It all started when you got into Aunt Hannah's costume trunk and makeup when you were six, didn't it?"

Punk and Cena simply gave each other knowing looks as the Hardys once again bickered away, in what would undoubtedly be one of the few hundred times over the course of the trip. Presently they headed off to get a good view (and recording) of the game.

***

What happened in the space of the next half hour was duly recorded by roughly three dozen camera phones and a few digital cameras from surprised fans who were in attendance for the game between the Cougars and the Cajuns that day. If one had the patience, the time, and hell, really wasn't doing anything but sitting around all day, one would have been able to piece together the entire story by compiling all these videos together.

First off Randy Orton and John Morrison, both good-looking men in their own right, proved to be very ugly girls. Randy's unnaturally large thighs alone were like tree trunks under the red and black little cheerleader skirt, causing Kennedy to break into a nigh uncontrollable fit of laughter upon seeing him. Morrison's pride and joy, his seemingly 36-pack abs, had been adorned with the glitter that his partner had formerly warned him against, saying that they were 'totally gay, dude'. Obviously Morrison had not heeded the advice, and the sparkly stuff was in ridiculous contrast with the uniform.

Just as the two of them were begrudgingly set to launch into a routine with their equally amused temporary cheer-mates, Miz let out with a loud, "Oh Holy SHIT!" pointed to the opposite side of the field, and then broke into peals of laughter. This drew the attention of the crowd (not to mention tiny little recording devices) to the Cajuns' side.

There, having just come out with the other cheerleaders in blue and white, were Paul London and Spanky Kendrick. Both had been suitably fussed over by the girls on their team, and the ladies had gone so far as to actually give them pigtails and apply a little makeup on their faces.

"The email said put on the cheerleader uniform, idiots, not drag it up!" Edge had yelled out mocking to the other team.

"You're just sore because our guys are actually cuter than yours!" Jeff had immediately shot back.

After a few more nonsensical insults were thrown around the field by both wrestlers and the cheerleaders, as well as people in the stands (one would suppose that the footballers and the officials themselves were a little too perplexed with the situation and the game at hand to react), the last quarter of the game started. Randy and Morrison proved to be somewhat of an asset by assisting with the lifts for the Cougars' cheerleaders, although Morrison did at one point miss a catch and narrowly managed to keep one of the girls from crash landing on her face. On the other side London and Spanky tried to their best to keep up with the chants and the routines, wherein at one point Spanky did a high kick in the air that caught London on the side of the head.

"So, how long do you think it'll take before any of these videos show up on Youtube?" Matt asked Punk at one point.

"About five minutes ago," Punk said, training the camera on London and Kendrick.

"No, get the ball, get the fucking ball!" Jeff then suddenly yelled, and before they realized it the Houston Cougars had scored a touchdown with only six seconds left to win the game.

"YEAH!" Kennedy yelled out in elation. "Our team wins! Bonus points for the hunt! In your face, losers! In your—" it was then that he turned to the other side of the field and found the girls in blue and white devoid of members that were clearly transvestites. "Hey, where'd they go?"

"They got the jump on us!" Edge cried. "Sneaky bastards, let's get out of here and back on the road!"

"You aren't even going to give us time to change out of this shit??" Orton demanded.

"Uh, yeah, he kinda has a point," Carlito said, looking up from where he had turned off the digital camera. "Carlito doesn't really want to watch the two of them wriggle out of those skintight uniforms in the back of the SUV, you know?"

"If that's the worst thing you see on this trip consider yourself lucky," Edge said, and then started herding all of them out of the stadium, a protesting Orton and Morrison still fully dolled-up and getting amused grins from everyone around. They were just in time to see Cena hustle last into the sandstone-colored Kluger at the parking lot before Matt drove it out of there like a bat out of hell. Refusing to be shown up, the heel team followed soon after.

And with the second item down, the race continued.

Cont'd

Item numero dos done; who knew cheerleading could be so hazardous? How long did it take for those internet videos to get hits in the hundred thousands? Does applying makeup to a straight man in a dress really equal to 'dragging it up'? Is it really worth it to see Randy and those thighs in a short skirt? Will the boys who took on the cheerleading challenge ever live it down? What is this phenomena called 'Guy Love' really about anyway (and why is it so awkwardly funny)? None of that and more in the next chapter!