Flipped
By Shelly & Greg

This story is probably the result of WAY too much caffeine and not enough sleep. LoL



Sometimes when I'm bored or when Greg is here and we're both bored we go to the Shockwave website and play some games. There is a game on there called House Flip. Basically you're given a budget, some listings of houses and 5 minutes to renovate and sell the house. It’s not action packed, but for some damn reason we’re both hooked on playing it.


Greg and I being the demented ones we are started a little scenario where Edge gets hit in the head REALLY hard and wakes up in the game where he finds some very familiar faces.


For the sake of this story let's pretend that Edge isn't injured right now and that there is no brand separation at all.

"Right and then I come off the ropes attempting to spear you and you nail me with the chair," Edge explained to Jericho as they went over some last minute details for their match.

"Let’s give it a try," Jericho said lifting the chair he had in his hands.

Edge nodded and began running the ropes to build up enough steam to actually demonstrate what he wanted to happen during the match.

"This is not going to end well," Randy Orton said to Ted and Cody. The two younger men just nodded in agreement.

"Whoo! Look at that sucker run," Triple H howled as he and Shawn joined the group watching Edge and Jericho. "Never thought I’d see his ass move so fast!"

"Blow me, Hunter," Edge yelled.

"Again?! Come on man my lips are sore," Hunter yelled back, making everyone around him groan except Edge who attempted to put on the brakes. He lost his footing and rammed right into the chair Jericho still held.

The crack of his skull echoed around the empty arena like a gunshot. That was closely followed by the thud of Edge’s body hitting the mat like a ton of bricks.

"OH MY GOD," Jericho exclaimed.

"You killed Edgey," Triple H chuckled.

"Hunter," Shawn said placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. "Shut the fuck up." He rolled into the ring with the others who had gathered around Edge’s prone body.

"Is he alive," Cody asked.

"Ted, go get a medic," Randy barked. The younger man nodded and slid out of the ring. "Cody, help me roll him onto his back. Carefully."

Jericho stood stunned, the chair still in his hands.

"Chris," Shawn said taking the chair and attempting to pry it out of the younger man’s hands. "It’s all right. It was an accident. Let go." Jericho finally released the cool metal and Shawn handed the chair off to Hunter.

"I didn’t…I didn’t mean to do that," Jericho stammered, staring down at his fallen friend. "If I…If he’s hurt I’ll never forgive myself."

"We know, son," Shawn replied, sliding his arm around Jericho’s shoulders. "It’s all right. It was an accident. Come on." He led Jericho out of the ring. "One that probably could have been avoided." He glared pointedly at Hunter as he passed his longtime friend.

"What’d I do," Hunter asked as he followed Shawn.

"Adam," Randy said gently smacking Edge’s cheek. "Can you hear me, man?"

No response.

"Where the hell is the medic," Randy growled.

"Coming," Ted called as he raced back to the ring. "He had to wrap up with ‘Taker."

"Sorry," the medic called moments later. "Couldn’t leave Mark’s knee half wrapped. What have we got here." Randy quickly explained the situation. "All, everyone out of the ring. Give me space and him air."

Everyone climbed out of the ring, but they only went as far as the apron.

The medic pulled out a penlight and pried open one of Edge’s eyes, shining the light in it. "Adam? Can you hear me?"

Edge groaned, but did not wake.

"Adam, speak to me."

"Adam! Adam!"

The voice sounded familiar, but a million miles away.

"Adam! Damn it! Where is he?"

"I think he’s dead," another voice said. This one had a slight southern drawl.

"Jeff, leave him alone. Don’t poke him with a…"

A sharp pain in his ribs made Edge groan. He swatted the stick away with one hand while his other hand rubbed his throbbing temple. He slowly opened his eyes and found Matt and Jeff Hardy staring down at him.

"Rough night," Matt asked holding out his hand to him. "I’ve been there."

Edge sat up carefully and blinked. Instead of the empty arena seating he saw houses and well manicured lawns. He looked down at the ground he was sitting on. The lawn wasn’t quite so well manicured. As a matter of fact it was damn near a jungle of tall grass blades. He jumped up when he saw what was surely a mutant grasshopper heading his way.

"There you are," the voice that had been calling him earlier announced moments before Randy Orton came into view. "What the hell are you two doing," he yelled at the Hardys. "I’m not paying you to stand around holding your dicks. Get back to work!"

Both Matt and Jeff scrambled into a three story house that was in shambles. Edge soon realized that it belonged to the unkempt lawn.

"And YOU," Randy said rounding on Edge. "What the fuck kind of example are you setting for your employees. What the fuck were you doing? Taking a nap?"

"Whoa, Randy, what’s up with the tension, bro? You really need to chill."

Randy growled and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Adam," he said through clenched teeth. "Are you high? Are you fucking high?"

"No, you know I don’t do shit like that," Edge replied.

"Good," Randy smiled and then grabbed Edge by the shirt collar. "Because I would hate to think that I’d have to fire you when we have such a wonderful working relationship. You will address me as Mr. Orton from now on. Understood?"

"Randy, come on, man. Mr. Orton? What’s with the formality," Edge asked as he squirmed out of Randy’s grasp.

"I’m your boss, damn it. Show some fucking respect," Randy growled, shooting daggers at the older man with his eyes.

"Boss? At what?"

"This," Randy exclaimed, pointing to the house. "Now let’s go. I’m already behind schedule. Let’s see what your piss poor crew has come up with."

He grabbed Edge by the ear and began to drag him toward the house.

"OW! Damn it," Edge exclaimed, shoving Randy away. "I’ll follow. Just keep your fucking hands off me!"

"You’re treading on thin ice, Adam," Randy warned as he threw open the door and entered the house.

Edge followed him inside and as his eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting inside he saw Jericho standing by the living room wall, holding up wallpaper swatches and paint chips. He was dressed in a salmon colored button down shirt and charcoal gray pants. When he saw the two men enter he smiled wide and tossed the samples down, walking over to them.

"Thank GOD you’re here," he exclaimed. Edge snickered under his breath at the tone the shorter Canadian was using. He seemed almost to be purring at the arrival of Randy. "I am in such a pickle, Randy. I have NO clue what this client would rather some tastefully done wallpaper pattern or just a paint job. What do you think?"

"I think you’ll do whatever will save me the most money on this job, Chris," Randy replied as his phone began to ring. He held up a finger to Jericho and answered. "No! I didn’t say go ahead with the demo. Jesus Christ! Do I have to do everything my damn self? Hold off until I get there." He flipped his phone shut with a string of curses and turned his attention back to Jericho. "Go with the wallpaper."

Jericho smiled wide and clapped his hands, giggling at the prospect.

"Chris, the cheapest wallpaper you can find," Randy warned. Jericho nodded emphatically and batted his eyelashes at Randy, who groaned and turned away from the interior designer.

"Lookout, bossman," someone called.

Edge turned his attention toward the voice and found Shad from Cryme Tyme lugging a broken down couch over his shoulders. JTG had the other end.

"Cryme Tyme? You hired Cryme Tyme?"

Randy shook his head. "Shad and JTG came highly recommended by you, Adam. Did you forget that?"

"Well…no…but…."

"They’re the best at hauling away the crap that people leave behind," Randy cut him off. "Let’s move on. Hunter, Shawn? Where the hell are those two."

Edge was shocked as he followed Randy into the den. First Jericho, who was apparently much more flamboyant than Edge had realized, then Cryme Tyme and now DX. Who else was in this crazy twisted world he’d woken up in?

"Oh hey Randy," Triple H said looking up from where Shawn was measuring the corners. He had his faithful sledgehammer over one shoulder.

"What’s the situation with the floors, guys," Randy asked.

Before Shawn or Hunter could reply Randy’s phone rang. He held up a finger to the men and answered, yelling at whoever was on the other end. He proceeded to curse them out before hanging up.

"Gentlemen, make this quick," he said to DX.

"Well, the floors on this level are in pretty bad shape. I would suggest tearing them up completely and laying down new flooring. The basement can do with just a couple of patch jobs. Upstairs you could probably get away with a good cleaning," Shawn replied.

"Great," Randy said mentally calculating things in his head. "Talk to Chris about what kind of flooring to go with on this level. Have either of you seen Phil?"

"Basement," Shawn replied as he went back to measuring the floor.

Randy headed down to the basement. Edge was close behind him, still trying to figure out what hell was going on. They found Cody and Ted just finishing up tearing out the old drywall in the basement bedroom. The two men looked up and nodded to their boss.

"Phil, you down here," Randy called heading toward the bathroom.

"In here, boss," came Punk’s voice. Randy and Edge made their way over to the bathroom and both men groaned. Punk was bent over, his head under the sink. What had made them groan was the sight of Punk’s jeans hanging off his ass, a good portion of crack showing as his tool belt weighed them down.

Edge began to snicker realizing what Punk’s job was. Randy glared at him. "Oh come on, Randy! He’s a plumber WITH PLUMBER’S CRACK!"

Randy grabbed Edge by his shirt collar and pinned him up against an exposed stud in the wall that Legacy had already torn out. "MISTER ORTON," he growled, his nose pressed up against Edge’s. "I don’t give a rat’s ass what your little fucking underlings call YOU, but where I come from you show respect to your superiors. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Edge grunted, not at all liking being manhandled by Randy Orton.

Randy released him and straightened out Edge’s shirt. "Good. Now, Phil, what’s going on with the plumbing?"

"We can get away with a patch job down here and the kitchen is in pretty good shape," Punk said pulling himself out from under the sink. "Upstairs in the second bathroom….looks like someone took a sledgehammer to the toilet, the vanity is falling apart and the pipes…well…they need a complete overhauling."

"Great," Randy sighed.

"Don’t worry, boss. I know a guy who can get us a good deal on supplies," Punk smiled, wiping his hand on his pants. "Let me check on a few other things and then I’ll give him a call."

"Thanks, Phil," Randy said.

With that he headed back upstairs and headed up to the top floor. He found the Hardys taping off windows.

"Jeff, stop it," Matt yelled. "The last time I let you tape up the windows you made frickin’ face in the panes!" Jeff began to snicker making Matt toss an empty roll from the tape at him.

"Boys, can you pretend to be professionals," Randy called, announcing his arrival.

Both brothers dropped what they were doing and turned their attention toward him.

"We’re all set here, Mr. Orton," Matt said. "Just taping up the panes that need to be replaced."

"All right, come on downstairs a moment," Randy said. "I need to address everyone."

The brothers followed Randy down the stairs as he told Jericho to go fetch Chavo and Rey, who were working on repairing the fence and doing the landscaping outside.

"Everyone, I appreciate you all getting down to business. I don’t need to tell you how important this house flip is." He checked his watch. "There’s an old saying that time is money. You all have...five minutes to get this house renovated and ready to sell."

Edge, who had just been sipping the coffee Jericho had handed him, choked and spit it out right in Randy’s face. "FIVE MINUTES?!"

"Oh no," Jericho gasped, his hand over his heart. "He did NOT just do that!"

"Jericho, get me the spare shirt I keep in the car," Randy growled, removing the shirt that was now soaked with coffee. Jericho nodded and rushed out to get the change. Randy took his jacket and tossed it at Edge. "I expect that to be dry cleaned by the end of the day."

Randy accepted the rag that Punk handed him, wiping his face off before looking at everyone around him.

"You have five minutes," he growled. "GET TO WORK!"

Everyone dispersed, getting to work on their jobs.

"Ran…Mr. Orton," Edge called following Randy. "You can’t be serious. Five minutes to renovate a house?"

"Aren’t you the one who claims you can do it in under five minutes or the windows are free?" He rounded on Edge as Jericho helped him get on the new shirt and a new tie. Randy swatted Jericho away as he felt the shorter man was getting too touchy feely. "Isn’t that what your truck says?"

Edge peered out the door past Randy and squinted looking at the truck parked at the curb. The door indeed had the slogan Randy had quoted.

"I…I guess so…but…."

"I don’t see what the problem is," Randy replied, spinning on his heel and heading down the steps. "You keep your men in line and I make some money. Now get to work."

"But this…five minutes isn’t enough time to…"

"Heads up," Shad called.

"Huh?" Edge turned just as a brick came flying his way. "Not again," he moaned, unable to duck it. The brick hit him in the head. His eyes rolled up in his head and he fell to the ground in a heap.

"I think he’s waking up."

Edge’s eyes blinked open and he tried to make them focus. "What happened," he groaned. When his eyes finally did focus he realized he was in the hospital.

"You took a pretty bad chair shot," Shawn explained.

"You had us all worried," Randy said patting Edge’s foot.

"Yeah, someone who shall remain nameless made you smash into the chair I was holding," Jericho said, perching on the edge of the bed. He had apparently snapped out of his shock while Edge regained consciousness.

"Thanks, Hunter," Edge groaned. His head was killing him still.

"No problem," Hunter replied popping his gum.

"All right everyone out," a nurse called. "Mr. Copeland needs his rest."

"See ya later, Adam. I’ll be by in the morning to spring ya. Doc said you can go home tomorrow."

Edge waved to his friends as they left and flung his arm over his eyes. His throbbing temples were begging for sleep, but after the dream he’d just had he was afraid. He didn’t want to see who else would turn up in bizzaroland.

"This will help you sleep," the nurse said as she injected something into Edge’s IV line.

"What? No I…" his voice became heavy as the sedative took over. "Don’t…want…to…sleep." He whimpered as he drifted off back to his dreamland. He could already hear Jericho's pleading voice begging him to wake up.