"Making a List"

By Raising Kane

Disclaimer: I imply nothing about the sexual orientation, religious beliefs, etc. of any of the characters. This is simply a work of fiction produced by my twisted and adventurous mind. I own no one, not even Frosty, Santa, nor his reindeer.
Distribution: Shadows of the Moon, Camelot (if they want)..if you really want it... just ask first please.
Rating: R (Probably not necessary that it be that high, but I like to be on the safe side.)
Characters: Raw Superstars.
Content: M/M, F/F, and M/F relationships, mild sexual innuendo, and mentions of unmentionables (aka Underwear).
Author's Note: I know this is terribly late, but I only came up with the idea like 2 days ago. LOL I planned to do both the Smackdown and Raw rosters, but Raw was all I've managed to get done so far. A Smackdown fic may follow, but it won't make it by Christmas. I've altered the roster to some extent...left out a few, added a few that are not there at the moment...that sort of thing. Santa's thoughts are not very Santa-like. If this might offend you, then please don't read this fic. Most of all...Happy Holidays to you and yours.
Dedication: One part of this fic is dedicated specifically to Penumbren. I'm sure she knows which part. *g*

Making a List... And checking it twice. That's what we're doing now. Re-checking the list. My name is Frosty. No, I am not a Snowman. I'm an elf. One of Santa's elves to be precise. The name? Who knows. I like to blame it on my mother's passion for eggnog. Enough about me. Let's talk about the list. Yes, that list. It's the day before Christmas Eve and we're still not done checking the list for the second time. Thankfully we're down to just a small portion left...the superstars of World Wrestling Entertainment. They have their own separate list. Why? You'd have to ask Santa, but if you're asking me...it's because Mr. Claus is a closet WWE addict. Mrs. Claus has tried to keep it quiet, but it's really hard to miss hearing the jolly old elf shouting "Wooo!" with regularity on Monday nights. That and his list has two sections: Monday Night Raw and Friday Night Smackdown. They are in alphabetical order by their professional names rather than their real names. Not that I watch it to know that or anything. I'm holding the list, prepared to start reading off names...the same way we go through all of the lists on the second go-round. Double checking that 'naughty or nice' bit. If I had to guess, I'd mark them all down as naughty...I've seen...er, heard of some of the things they do on television...but Santa has other ideas it seems. "The first name on the list is Kurt Angle..." "Ah! Mr. Angle...I have a very special naughty gift for him. A personal CD player and a special CD that I made for him myself." I'm writing down his notations, but I have to say I miss the days when those on the naughty list got a lump of coal. A personal CD player seems a bit much for someone on the naughty list. "Can I ask what CD it might be, Santa? Wouldn't want to give him the wrong one by accident." "My helpers won't be able to miss it. The label simply says 'You suck'." "Santa? Sir? You really shouldn't say the "S" word, you know. You are Santa, sir." I'm appalled. Can you imagine if Santa accidentally slipped and said that word in front of children? "Nonsense! I'm not at all old-fashioned. I have a obligation to keep up with all those fancy slang terms, you know. Now...As I recall, Daivairi's gift will be delivered to the same address, scary as that is. He's on the naughty list as well," he says, scratching his chin. A twinkle sparkles in his eye and I just know that this one is going to get a lump of coal. "Why don't you give him a pair of glasses. He certainly needs them. Can't see a darn thing when he's playing referee." Glasses? Well, I suppose even if he is on the naughty list, he shouldn't go without glasses if he needs them for his job. "Antonio, sir?" "Ah yes...Antonio and Romeo. Very nice pair. Matching g-strings I think to wear under those itty bitty trunks and new boas...the feather ones, not the scaly hissing kind...in pink I think." What the...? Underwear? He's giving them R-rated underwear? That is just not a Santa kind of gift. I wonder if they'll try on their gifts together? At the same time? That could be really ho.... Sorry. Next name... "Ashley..." The jolly old elf in Santa is apparently tickled by something...I'm not sure what, but he laughs heartily. "Yes, yes. Miss Ashley...she's seeing Mr. Venis I believe. Poor girl's bound to end up in a video or two. Give her a matching set of bra and panties. Wouldn't want her to look bad for her screen debut." I'm shocked, really I am. Bra and panties so she can look good starring in a por...er, right. "And Mr. Venis, sir?" "Oh that one should be obvious, shouldn't it? The same thing I give him every year. Two dozen white bath towels...the poor boy seems to lose them every time he goes out to the ring." That is a pretty interesting ring entrance, you know. The way his hips swivel like that...uh...or so I've heard. "Stone Cold Steve Austin..." "That ornery old redneck! He's been a very nice boy this year. Let's give him a beer truck..." "A whole truck full of beer sir? That could be dangerous...he could drink and drive and hurt someone." "No, no, no...it's so he can douse the McMahons again. Lovely thought isn't it?" "That sounds rather naughty, sir. Are you sure..." "Yes, yes. Not naughty at all, at least not when he uses it wisely. And for his good friend Mr. Jericho, I believe he asked for some rope and a riding crop. Such the little cowboy he is these days...you should see him ride. I have." Did he...? Santa just wiped drool from his mouth. I don't think we're picturing the same kind of riding. Oh my. "Shelton Benjamin, sir." My voice sounds just a bit strangled. No wonder. I just can't get that picture of Jericho and Austin out of my head now. "Poor, poor Shelton. Such a good boy. He gets a pair of earplugs and some duct tape." Ear plugs and duct tape? What kind of gifts are those? "He's seeing Miss James you know. He'll need both in order to keep his sanity. And give Miss James a bottle of lotion. She'll need it after she manages to pull that tape off her mouth...to ease the irritation, you see. Oh and let's give her a few new moves of her own so she'll stop stealing Miss Stratus'. Terrible!" Well, I suppose I can see his point. She is rather bouncy, and talks quite a bit, and...so I've heard, you understand? "The Big Show..." What kind of name is that? He sounds rather scary. "New ring gear...that outfit that he wears just scares me, but he's a nice enough boy. And let's give Mr. Cena a new bed. I saw...er, heard that they broke their last one. And at such a bad time too." I really shouldn't give Santa dirty looks, but come on. If he thinks I'm buying that 'heard' from him, well he's crazy. See...you should always be good, because Santa is always watching. Scary thought, isn't it? "Mr. Eric Bischoff..." "Oh! What a naughty, naughty boy that one is. Get him a first aid kit. He'll need it if he doesn't stop sniffing after Mr. Jericho. Though I'm not sure whether Austin or Jericho will do the actual damage. Oh...and give him extra food stamps. He's out of a job right now you know. He got...fired! Let's arrange a meeting with him and Ms. McMahon, too. Those two deserve each other and it'll give Daddy McMahon fits. You saw how he reacted to that kiss during the trial." Santa sounds just a bit too happy that poor Mr. Bischoff lost his job. In most cases that would get him a bit of sympathy, but apparently Mr. Bischoff has been a very naughty boy this year. I wasn't aware however that we had access to food stamps. The things an elf must do to fulfill Santa's wishes...sometimes I think that we'll end up on the naughty list. "Lance Cade..." "Oh! He and Mr. Conway make the most lovely couple. A new hat for Mr. Cade...I think I'd like a white one. A new mirror for Mr. Conway, so he need not chase all over looking for one to admire himself. And a set of new sheets for both of them. The ones they had last night ended up such a mess, let me tell you." I really rather that he hadn't. I will not think about it. I won't! "Candice Michelle..." Oh dear. Was that a wince I just saw? But she's hot...isn't she? "Poor, poor Candice. I don't know what she was thinking. Let's give her a new wand to replace the one she gave to Mr. McMahon...and some beer nuts for her main squeeze, Mr. Murdoch. That poor girl has no taste in men, absolutely none." Oh my. I fear he's right. Too bad good taste isn't something Santa can dish out. "Carlito..." "That poor boy needs help! Give him an electric shaver so he can get that chia pet on his head under control. And for his lover...er, good friend, Mr. Van Dam, let's give him some liniment for sore muscles. He's going to need it if they keep up those gymnastics they've been performing lately." Somehow I think our idea of gymnastics is a little different. Mr. Van Dam is rather...bendy, though. Oh my. "Mr. Jonathan Coachmen..." "He's been a rather naughty boy lately. He's all alone though, poor lad. Let's give him a companion! Not a puppy though...it scares me what he might do with it. How about...a nice inflatable vinyl friend...a Krusty the clown bop bag!" Whew...he had me scared there for a moment. Thought I'd have to make a last minute run to an adult bookstore...not that I'd know where to find one. "Edge..." "Oh dear. What a year that boy has had. He was rather naughty you know, hooking up with that tram...er, slu...er, woman. Fortunately he and Kane both came to their senses. Rather cute together, you know. I think they would appreciate a pair of handcuffs, a blindfold, and a flogger. Simply for penance reasons...of course." Oh my. Looks like I'll be heading out to find that bookstore after all. "Speaking of the slu...er, Lita...give her an oxygen tank. She'll need it now that she's taken up with the 500 pound love machine. Wonder who is on top in that relationship? Er, sorry. Let's give Viscera a lovely new robe. He'll need it to attract a new woman once he squishes the slu...er, Lita, flat." I'm giggling. I can't help it. Though I absolutely refuse to let those visions creep into my head. I don't want to be scarred for life! "Mr. Flair..." "Woooooooo!" Oh god. My heart is beating a thousand miles an hour. I should have been prepared. He does that every year. Oh dear. "Mr. Flair really is the "60 minute man", you know. Lucky with the ladies, especially that Miss Torrie." I really did not need to know that. "Let's give Mr. Flair a pacemaker...he is getting up there ya know. Wouldn't want to have the poor guy dropping over dead on the poor chit. And for Miss Wilson...a huge tub full of Jello. I'm sure both she and Mr. Flair would appreciate it." Jello? Wonder how many boxes that will take... "Lime...on second thought make it strawberry. It'll make cleaning up that much more fun..." Santa finds that rather amusing...at least that's what I'm guessing according to that big old belly laugh. Doesn't red Jello stain the skin though? Not that I'd know or anything. "Mr. Foley... "Mick! Very, very nice man is Mr. Foley. I love it when he does that little 'bang, bang' thing that he does. Still, having multiple personalities can be a bit stressful. Let's give him a psychologist." "Um, sir? You can't just give him another person." "Sure I can! I'm Santa. I can do whatever I like. I suppose you are right though. Mrs. Foley probably wouldn't appreciate and extra person in their bed. In that case let's give him a dozen socks." "A dozen socks or a dozen pair, sir?" "Give him a dozen pair, though he only uses them one at a time you know. And a permanent laundry marker. Wouldn't want him to accidentally wash away Mr. Socko's face when he does the laundry." There's just something wrong about a guy talking to a sock, but not all that unusual. I blame teachers. They start that whole sock puppet thing when kids are in school. Rots their brains, really it does. "Lilian Garcia..." "Such a lovely girl! The things her voice does to me...don't you be telling Mrs. Claus, now. It's all perfectly innocent." Uh, huh. I can see that. Ewww! "She and Chavo make such a lovely pair now that he's stopped toting around those golf clubs. Those things got in the way, especially since he liked to hold one while he was sleeping. He needs a whole new wardrobe to replace those silly golf sweaters. And for Miss Garcia, give her a slinky black dress. She looks so pretty in them...er, I think she needs a new outfit for the show." Outfit for the show, my butt. Oops. Sorry. Of course it's for the show. Santa would never ever give a gift just so that he could drool while watching television. It wouldn't be dignified. Although if he's watching it by himself, then no one would know that...I suppose. "Gregory Helms..." "So sad. I really do miss the Hurricane gimmick. Maybe if I give him a new superhero costume then he'll go back to it. Let's see...red, blue, and yellow? No...that hack Superman uses those colors. He can't really fly. Did you know that? It's all camera tricks. Red, white, and blue...no, no. That's taken too, I think. Let's just give him a copy of his old costume. That's the best bet, I think. And for his friend, The Rock...let's give him a new contract. Maybe he'll get himself back to wrestling and stop making those movies." I think Santa just shuddered. Apparently he doesn't appreciate Rocky's film prowess. I'll bet he just wants to see a 'Rock and Sock' reunion. I love those... Okay! I admit it! I watch the show. Just don't tell Santa. "Jerry Lawler..." "Well...he's been rather good this year. And he's always asking for puppies, so let's give him a pair. He likes big ones...Saint Bernards! That's the ticket. He can share them with his longtime friend Mr. Ross. Better give them dog food as well. Wouldn't want to have them eaten out of house and home." I don't think those are quite the kind of puppies that Lawler has in mind...I'm pretty sure Santa knows that too. So obviously Mr. Lawler hasn't been all that good this year. "And let's give Mr. Ross a nice soft fluffy pillow. He'll need it after that surgery he had. And his job back as well. I really miss hearing his lovely commentating. Let's give him a pet coon as well." A pet coon? And just where am I to find one of those? Must check the pet shops, I suppose. Hopefully I can find one that has had its shots. Rabies would be a rather nasty result from a Christmas gift. "Maria..." "Lovely girl...but not so bright. Come to think of it...her and Masters make the perfect pair. Give them a set of Encyclopedias. I doubt it will help, but anything would be an improvement there. I'd like to give them each a brain, but I'm not God...just Santa." Poor Santa. I'm not sure which of us is laughing harder. We really shouldn't laugh...it's naughty. I don't think Santa nor I are getting gifts this year. "Shawn Michaels..." "The Heartbreak Kid! He's been such a good boy this year. Hasn't broken any hearts at all. He just loves that terrible Hunter Hearst Helmsley too much. Oh what a bad boy that one has been. What a dilemma...one so good, one so bad...but together they are really, really bad." "Er...Santa? You have just a bit of drool...right there. You got it." Can't really blame him there. I know what he's talking about. Hey! It was a scouting mission...honest. Not my fault they don't close the bedroom door before they go to...bed. "Let's give them the extra large version of the Kama Sutra kit. That will give them something to keep them occupied and maybe a video camera as well. Extra tapes as well...in case one or two should come up missing...by accident." By accident? I suppose I'll be sent to retrieve those as well. We are so ending up on the naughty list next year. He had better share...or I'll have to rat him out to the Mrs.... "Uh...You'll have to excuse me a moment. I'll be right back!" Where is he going? We're so close to be finished with the list for Raw and he's going...to the bathroom? Oh. Ewww! Whistle...think nice thoughts...not naughty! Bad, bad Santa! I think I'll get a head start on next year's naughty list... "Frosty!" My, that was quick. Stupid parents...I'm never going to do that to my kids. "Back to the list, Frosty. Even Santa needs a bathroom break now and then, but on with the list!" Bathroom break, my as...er, butt. "Gene Snitsky..." Definite grimace there...do I even want to know? "Apparently since he and Mr. Tomko have hooked up, they've neglected such basics as personal grooming. Give them a couple of gift cards to the nearest beauty salon and a box or two of wax. Maybe they'll get the hint. Give Snitsky a huge tube of Clearasil acne cream and give them both a large bottle of massage oil for those persistent kinks. I don't think Cena believed them any more than I do." Not a picture I needed. I'm scarred for life. Bellevue, here I come... "Trish Stratus..." "Miss Stratus! She and Victoria are quite enthusiastic about each other...very pretty together too. Lots of bras and panties! Maybe they'll model them...together. Oh my." I have to admit that that is a show I wouldn't mind watching at all. We'll all probably see them eventually while they're in the ring, but a private showing would be a bonus. Hello...I'm Evil Frosty, Santa's helper...and I'm a HLA addict! "That's it for the Raw list sir...should we continue with the Smackdown list now, sir?" "No...I think I need a long...very long break." Already? But there's only one list left. At this rate we'll never get done for Christmas. Where is he going now? Never mind...I don't really want to know. This is Frosty, signing off from the North Pole. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! ©2005 Raising Kane

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