HB..What?

John Bradshaw Layfield was like a bear with a sore butt on the best of days, but right now, he looked as if he'd been sucking on an especially sour lemon.

Shawn sighed as he watched the disgrunted man pace a track in the concrete floor, picking away at his cellphone with one hand while unbuttoning his shirt with the other. It was like John to do two things at once, he worked so hard and so furiously that Shawn actually worried for his health. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the man relax. Even now, he was scowling, hopping around on one leg, trying to remove a boot, still talking on his phone. Finally he tripped and fell but never stopped talking and undressing, only this time he did it while scooting around on his butt.
Shawn shook his head at the sight, unable to stop smiling at John rolling around on the floor, now in his tidy whities, yet still he hadn't relinquished his phone. Shawn knew the humor in situation was lost on Layfield, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the man smile.

Finally, the big Texan cursed and tossed the phone into his bag, abruptly ending the conversation, which had been going pretty badly from the start. The last remnants of his clothing were tossed onto the floor and the naked man stalked off,
still fussing,into the shower. Shawn had had enough. This had to end, before he left this lockeroom tonight, John Layfield would smile.

He knew he would catch hell later for what he was about to do, John hated people going through his things, but this, in Shawn's mind was an emergency situation. He only hoped he could keep on the tights. He paused for a moment, to take inventory. One towel, One hat, John's best pair of tights. The boots wouldn't fit, but maybe if he didn't wiggle around too much, but then that was kind of the idea.

The Showstopper dressed quickly, while the shower was still running, then checked out himself in the mirror. He was a like a minature, blond version of Jbl. Perfect. He danced a few steps, experimentally and if he didn't jump around, he could keep John's massive boots on his feet.

The Showstopper wiggled and gyrated, his best Shawn Michaels dance as he waited for the Orignal John Bradshaw Layfield to step out the shower. When the water stopped, Shawn began singing.

You think I'm hot, I'm know I'm sexy, I've got the looks...The Showstopper sang his own theme, dancing around as suggestively as he could, in John Bradshaw Layfield's gear as the man himself looked on in amazement.

Finally, Shawn saw his lips twitch. The big man fell to the floor again, this time in laughter, and Shawn plopped down beside him and joined in.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" Layfield asked between chuckles and Shawn gave him the only answer possible.

"I am HBGayBl."

The End