Hunter's House
of Hammers
by Empress
Chapter 6
Title:
Just Another Day At The Office
Author: Empress
Email: Empress@thewaysideinn.net
Category:
Number 6 in the Hunter's House of Hammers series, following number 5
Cordially Invited.
Rating: R for
language.
Characters:
No character from WWE is safe. So you never know who's gonna show up.
Content: Pure
ludicrous and slightly humorous fantasy.
Summary: Just
like the Title says.
Feedback:
Always.
Disclaimer:
The credit for naming Hunter's House of Hammers goes to Karen. The idea
behind it is entirely my own creation. But as usual, the characters
belong to Vince and WWE respectively. I'm sure if he knew what I was
doing with them he'd pop a vein and tell me to stop. So nobody tell him.
Okay? I realize that I'm using these characters without permission. I’m
NOT using them for profit. I swear; no money is being made. If I was
making money off of it, you can be guaran-damn-teed that I'd be a lot
more less willing to play as nicely with others as I do. And for those
of you who know me, you
know
what a big belly laugh that just was.
Distribution:
Empress' Private Library and
The Wayside Inn All others ask
first.
<ring, ring>
“Can somebody get that?”
“Snzzzzzzzzzzznnnnnrrrrrrrkkkkkkkkkkk….”
<ring, ring>
“Hey! Somebody answer the phone!”
“Zzzzzzzwwwwwoooooonnnnnnkkkkkkkk…..”
<ring, ring>
“Test! Phone!”
“Hnuhn….whaazzit–“ Without lifting his head, merely rolling it to the side instead, Test groped for the telephone, and grabbed his stapler instead. Holding it up to his ear, he spoke groggily, “Houses Hammin' of Hunters. Have adjustments we'll attitude 'em. Pest teaking, how may you be of ass to me today?”
<ring, ring>
Hearing nothing but the continued ringing, of course, Test shook the stapler and tried again. “Hammer’s Hunt of Hoses – you ram ‘em we slam ‘em." Trying to get a handle on his sleep thickened tongue, he concentrated harder and inadvertently squeezed the stapler. “Owwwww! Goddamnit! I just stapled my fuckin’ ear to my head!”
<ring, ring>
“The phone, Test! Ya stupid bastard!”
With his fingers pressed tightly to staunch the blood-flow, he flopped his free hand blindly for the irritating, consistently ringing telephone. Unfortunately, he overcompensated, and slammed the heel of his hand against the receiver, shooting it up into the air like the light end of a teeter-totter, only to have it come crashing back down – heavy end first, of course – on the crown of his head.
“Sonofa….motherfuck that hurt!” He righted the receiver and hollered into it, “YEAH! WHADDYA WANT?! Oh, hey Stef. No, no…I'm awake…sorta. Christian? No, why? Well he left here around uhm…hang on." Test scrambled for the calendar on his desk. "Last night…after he lost the Pin-The-Tail-On-The-CLB contest…at least I thought he left…lemme check."
Test lowered the receiver and placed it up against his chest. "Hey! Anybody seen the Creepy Little Bastard?"
"Don't yell!" An agony-filled voice moaned from the front display window, where Chuck Palumbo lay wearing only a kilt, with a lacy bra dangling from around his neck like some bizarre necklace.
"So have ya seen him or not?!"
"I have," Big Show rumbled, staggering into the front office from the back.
Test looked up, blinked twice, then slammed his eyes shut tightly. "For God's sake, Show! Put something on!"
"Can't," he answered, lowering himself into his desk chair with a grunt.
"Why not," Test asked peaking open one eye, glad to see Show's assets were hidden from view by the desk.
"Spike hid my clothes," Show answered matter-of-factly. He yawned wide and scratched his chest. "Tell Stef Christian's fine. He's in the Game Room."
Test lifted the phone back to his ear and relayed the message. "She wants to know why."
"Because that's where we left him chained to the pool table."
"Oh yeah, that's right." Test grinned, then turned back to the phone. "Stef, he's kinda tied up right now. Yes, literally. Chocolate sauce? Of course. We keep a supply on hand." He gave a short burst of laughter. "Okay. See you soon then. Bye." He hung up the phone and announced, "She's on her way."
Show nodded with a smile, "Kinda expected she'd react that way."
"Look sharp you twerps," Steve announced coming in from the back. "Boss is due back any minute and you know she's gonna open a can of whoopass if this place ain't tip top."
Test dropped his head back on the desk with a thunk. "Then just let her kill me. Can't possibly hurt any worse than this hangover."
"Oh, she won't kill ya, Testicle," Steve sneered. "We both know she believes that there are worse things than death. Your luck is she'll let you live."
Test rolled his head to the side, and blearily opened up one eye. "I hate you."
But he got to his feet and took stock of the office. Other than Chuck doing his own perverted add for Men In Kilts, and Show's nakedness, the office didn't look that bad. Thank goodness they'd confined their party to the Game Room this time. He grinned, and anything conspicuous left behind, they could blame on Stef and Christian – provided she got there before the Boss did.
He ran down a mental list. Chuck, Show, and Steve were accounted for. Rico was still in Wales with Lisa, not due back until next week. And Al was with Hunter and the Boss. That left…"Where's Rhyno and Cactus?"
Crossing over to the pegboard on the wall behind them, Steve scanned it quickly. "Cactus is out on delivery – Rebecca ordered six whole cases of canned whipped cream. And Rhyno –"
The ear-bleeding buzz of a chainsaw split the relative quiet around them as Rhyno burst through the double doors wielding the menacing looking device, screaming, "WORKS GREAT, DON'T IT!"
With that pronouncement, he laid the spinning chain down on the edge of the front counter and sawed it completely in half, causing the side not bolted to the wall to fall forward with a thunderous boom.
A high-pitched yelp accompanied Chuck falling out of the window and darting through the office towards the back. "Get that thing away from me, ya freak!"
"You're gonna pay for that!" Test yelled as Rhyno laughed maniacally and gave chase.
Show made a notation on a ledger in front of him. "One front counter."
"Idiots," Steve shook his head in disgust.
"Well, Cactus and Rhyno are accounted for. But I'm forgetting something, I just know it," Test muttered to himself.
The jangling of the bell over the door got his attention as Stef breezed in wearing only a see-through raincoat, a zebra striped thong, with matching zebra striped thigh-high boots. And she was carrying a tennis racket. And an ostrich feather.
"Game Room?" She asked breathlessly.
Three sets of wide eyes followed her movements, all three men pointing at the doors leading into the heart of HHoH. As she smiled at them, and headed in that direction, Show leaned back in his chair with a big grin, lacing his fingers behind his head. "Damn, but I love my job."
The repeated jangling of the bell prevented any further conversation as Hunter, Nan, and Al walked in. Al took one look around at them, didn't say a word but simply walked around the remains of the front counter and settled himself behind his desk, and waited for the explosion.
But there wasn't one.
Test watched wide eyed, as Nan and Hunter waltzed into the room – eyes only for each other – around the destroyed counter, and over to Test's desk. Hunter dipped Nan with a flourish over the desk, and – with his teeth – extracted a red rose from where it had rested happily in Nan's cleavage.
Nan turned her head and smiled at her Purchasing Agent. "Test, honey. You're bleeding."
Hunter lifted her to her feet. She took the rose from his teeth with her own, in a passionate, yet careful, kiss. Hunter grinned at Test. "Counter?"
"Uhh…Rhyno tested out his new chainsaw."
The bigger man nodded. "Looks like a good brand." With his arm around Nan's waist, Hunter escorted Nan over to Big Show.
She took the rose from her teeth, stuck it behind Big Show's ear, and then kissed the top of his head, casting her eyes downward momentarily before looking him in the eye. "Now I see why Emma's always smiling. Very nice, Show."
Big Show smiled bashfully, as a red blush started at his collarbones and worked steadily upward until even the tips of his ears were rosy.
Before anyone could question the lack of reaction they had expected, the front door slammed open, the bell jangling crazily as Edge bolted into the office. He raced up to the remaining half of the counter and slapped his wallet down on the surface.
Edge yelled, "You gotta help me!" And immediately he began jerking out bills, tossing them to the counter.
Grinning, Nan sauntered up to him. "What's the problem, Edge?"
He leaned his forehead against his palm, his eyes wide and wild. "Bicycle pump! I need a bicycle pump! And an air compressor…and uhm….two rolls of duct tape…oh, yeah…and a case of WD-40!"
Laughingly, she took his money, and turned to Steve, "Stone Cold can get those for you. Steve?"
"You got it, Boss." Steve went over to the display case to gather Edge's order.
"Can't you stop her??" Edge pleaded.
Nan shook her head. "Sorry, hon. No can do."
Edge's bottom lip wobbled, then he nodded as Steve handed him a large box filled with the items he'd ordered. With sad, resigned eyes, Edge turned to leave with Steve following behind carrying a large air compressor.
Once they were gone, Hunter turned to Nan. "What's going on?"
Nan grinned. "Karen's gonna be out for a couple of weeks."
"Thank God," Test groaned, lowering his head back to his desk. "Now maybe I can get some sleep."
With a furrowed brow, Hunter asked, "Why's she goin' out?"
"She's having reduction mamoplasty," Nan answered with a smile.
"And he thinks a bicycle pump is gonna help??" At her shrug, Hunter shook his head. "What a maroon."
A bark of laughter from Al made them all turn towards him. "Just think…if they end up putting a nipple on her forehead, Edge is gonna look like a suckerfish!"
Grinning at the image, Hunter led Nan out of the main office and into hers. He guided her over to her desk and pressed her down into her chair. "Just another day at the office, huh baby?"
"Yep," she grinned sassily at him.
He leered at her. "I'll be right back. Keep it warm for me."
Nodding, she watched him go, then leaned back in her chair, propping her feet up on her desk. She closed her eyes and sighed, deeply contented.
A small sound caught her attention, "Uh, Boss? Can I come down now?"
Nan opened her eyes and looked straight up, to see her secretary spread-eagled, naked, save only for a large bulls-eye painted on his chest, duct-taped to her ceiling.
Laughing, she closed her eyes again and sighed, "Shut up, Spike."
<End>
