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THE WWF DOES PGA BY: "Chibholio"
At the first hole, a lone white golf cart barrels into view....
SHANE: *screeching the cart to a halt* This cart is DA BOMB!! Don'tcha think, Undie?
UNDERTAKER: *sprawled ungainly across the backseat* Don't call me "Undie"! Call me "Lord of Darkness"! Where the hell did you get your license anyway, Shane? A crackjack box?!
SHANE: Sorry man. I'm kinda jacked up on Slurpees...jacked up? FEEL THE BANG!!
CHYNA: *clocks Shane with a putter and throws him over her shoulder*
HHH: Thanks Chyna. *steps out of the car wearing a bright pink golfing outfit*
UNDERTAKER: Dammit, Helmsley, my eyes!
HHH: What? What! This is what all the pros wear, I'll have you know...
UNDERTAKER: Oy vey. Come on, let's just get this over with. MIDIAN! MY CLUBS! ...Midian?
CHYNA: He fell out the second Shane hit the gas pedal.
UNDERTAKER: Dammit! Well I can't carry this bag around! I have a bad hip you know.
HHH: Seriously, man! I went into this golf store yesterday and they told me this is all the rage!
UNDERTAKER: Look, Helmsley, I don't care, alright? Just stand away from me. Far far away.
HHH: Chyna likes it!
CHYNA: *already on the second hole* THE HELL I DO!
HHH: Does it make my a** look big?
ACOLYTES: *wandering up in matching outfits* What's shakin' Mark?
UNDERTAKER: LORD OF DARKNESS, DAMN YOU!
HHH: You guys like my outfit, don't you?
ACOLYTES: At least it takes attention away from your honker.
HHH: Come again?
UNDERTAKER: I need someone to caddy for me, blast it all!
HHH: I'll carry your clubs, Mar--er, Lord of Darkness!
UNDERTAKER: Thanks, Helmsley, I owe you--
HHH: As long as you compliment my outfit.
UNDERTAKER: Oh for the love of evil...*sniffs the air* Do I smell Kool-Aid?
GANGREL: Dudes, I'm telling you, we're totally in style!
CHRISTIAN: Are all the pompoms neccessary?
EDGE: I like 'em! *bats Christian's hat around*
CHRISTIAN: *smacks him* You have the IQ of a Cheese Doodle, Edge, what do you know?
EDGE: I like Cheese Doodles...
CHRISTIAN: That's not what I was saying Edge, it was an insult. Oh never mind, just go back to playing with your balls.
GANGREL: WHAT?!
CHRISTIAN: I meant his golf balls.
EDGE: What're these pointy things?
CHRISTIAN: Tees.
EDGE: I am not a tease!
CHRISTIAN: No, no, they're called tees. T-E-E-S. You put your ball on it--
EDGE: EW! NO WAY! Who knows where this thing's been?!
CHRISTIAN: YOUR GOLF BALL, YOU FOOL! My brain hurts.
EDGE: Aww. Here, I can fix it! *raises his club over his head*
GANGREL: *spots a golf cart* I GET TO DRIVE!!
EDGE: *drops the club* No way, man! I'm a MUCH better driver!
GANGREL: Like hell you are!
EDGE: Am so!
GANGREL: Are not!
EDGE: Am so!
GANGREL: Are not!
CHRISTIAN: *smacks their heads together* Both of you shut up, I get to drive.
UNDERTAKER: You! The traitors! ACOLYTES! OBLITERATE THEM!!
:ACOLYTES: Mark, we are NOT going to obliterate them.
UNDERTAKER: LORD OF DARKNESS! MY NAME IS LORD OF DARKNESS! One more show of disrespect like that and I swear I'll flog you both!
EDGE: Jeeze, Taker! Slightly h----?
UNDERTAKER: Huh?
EDGE: You're going to flog them BOTH?
UNDERTAKER: *sighs heavilly* Flog means whip...
EDGE: YOU MASOCHIST!
UNDERTAKER: How'd you like this nine iron shoved up your a**?
CHRISTIAN: Put down the club, Taker! We can work this out rationally! *b*tchslaps Edge* Think before you speak, Edge, think BEFORE you speak!
GANGREL: Woah, Helmsley, what the hell happened to you?
HHH: Why doesn't anyone like my outfit?!
UNDERTAKER: Y'know, if you wore a fruit basket on your head, you could pass for Carmen Maranda...
HHH: Really?!
UNDERTAKER: NO! NOW SHUT UP BEFORE I BRAIN YOU!
EDGE: Ewww, there he goes again!
UNDERTAKER: That's it!! *raises his club*
CHRISTIAN: *steps between them* Let's move on to the first hole, shall we?
Another golf cart putters up...
SHAMROCK: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!
UNDERTAKER: Oh hell...
MANKIND: *hops out* Hey Mark, how's it goin'?
UNDERTAKER: IT'S LORD O--oh screw it.
BIG SHOW: Why is Edge eating his golf clubs?
SHAMROCK: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!
CHRISTIAN: What's with Shammy?
TEST: He sat on a tee.
SHAMROCK: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!! It really hurts, guys.
GANGREL: *climbing into the golf cart* How does this thing work? *turns on the ignition* HWAAAAH! Now, lessee, it's brakes on the left, gas on the right...so... *Tires squeal and dust flies as Gangrel runs over Shane*
CHRISTIAN: OMIGOD!! HE KILLED SHANE!!
MANKIND: Dammit, that was MY job!
UNDERTAKER: YOU B*STARD!! ..Wait. With Shane out of the way, I have complete and total control over the Corporate Ministry. BWAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
TEST: But...with him gone...there's no need for the Union any more. *chin quivers* Wh-what are we gonna do now?!
Just then, Gangrel comes puttering back, smacking into the Undertaker...
UNDERTAKER: SONOFAB*TCH!! STOP THE CAR, GANGREL!!
GANGREL: Kee-doke. *slams on the brakes*
UNDERTAKER: AAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE!!! *flies off the hood, smacking into Shane's prone form*
SHANE: *opens one eye* DAMMIT MARK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!
UNDERTAKER: OH HELL, HE'S ALIVE!! *jumps up and hides behind Christian*
SHANE: Yeah, but I feel like I got run over...
GANGREL: Uhh...*jumps out of the cart*
CHRISTIAN: Got off my back, Mark!
EDGE: What's Chyna doing?
CHRISTIAN: Golfing.
EDGE: THAT'S golf?! I thought we got to go into the ocean on big boards...
CHRISTIAN: That's surfing, Edge.
EDGE: Oh. Can we go do that?
CHRISTIAN: No!
EDGE: Please?
CHRISTIAN: I said no.
EDGE: But you meant yes.
CHRISTIAN: No.
EDGE: Yeah you did. I can tell.
CHRISTIAN: How'd you like me to shove that flag pole up your nose?
MANKIND: Well. This has been...fun. C'mon, you guys, let's go to the buffet! With any luck, Bearer hasn't eaten everything yet...The Union exits on foot
EDGE: I'm feeling sleepy. Can we go home now, Chrissy-cakes?
CHRISTIAN: DON'T CALL ME CHRISSY-CAKES!! MY NAME IS CHRISTIAN, DAMN YOU!!
SHANE: Why is there Kool-aid all over my cart?
GANGREL: Uhhhh, come on Edge, I'll take you home! *grabs Edge and Christian and runs away*
SHANE: Hmm. How odd. Well, anyhoo, let's head back to the hotel. There's a movie playing on Cinemax that's the bomb diggity!
HHH: Shane...you DO know that you sound like a flaming poof when you use phrases like "bomb diggity", don't you?
SHANE: Whatchoo talkin 'bout foo?!
HHH: Shane. You're a twenty-eight-year-old white boy.
SHANE: Is there a point to this conversation, Hunter?
HUNTER: ...Do you like my outfit?
UNDERTAKER: Where'd my putter go?
ACOLYTES: Edge ate it.
UNDERTAKER: Curse that blond bimbo! Did he take my balls, too?
ACOLYTES: We ain't goin' there, Mark.
UNDERTAKER: For the final frickin' time...MY NAME IS THE LORD OF DARKNESS! DO I HAVE TO DRAW DIAGRAMS?! PERHAPS I SHOULD TATTOO IT ON MY FOREHEAD?!
SHANE: Come on, Mac Daddy, I'll buy you a pina colada at the bar and we can watch "Showgirls".
UNDERTAKER: *sniffles* I can't get any respect...
~THE END~
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