A/N: Okay, something new! I'm writing this as part of JulNoWriMo (A NaNoWriMo-type contest that runs in July), and I'm hoping to have it finished before the month's over. I don't own any of the wrestlers. Hopefully, none of them would be offended by their portrayal here. It's all in good fun and meant to be silly and light-hearted. Enjoy! :D

The Mizard Of Odd

Chapter 1: Miz Stumbles Onto Something

"Hey, Miz! Wait up!" The Miz rolled his eyes and walked faster, hoping that he could shake the other superstar somewhere in the halls. "Miz!" It seemed luck was not with him, however, as Kofi Kingston trotted to catch up with him, grabbing Miz's arm and half spinning him around. "Didn't you hear me, man?"

"Huh? Oh, hi, Kofi," Miz said, playing innocent. "I'm sorry, did you need something?"

Kofi smiled. "Yeah, actually. Morrison mentioned that you guys were having a poker game tomorrow night, and I want in."

Miz thought about a whole night with Kofi at the table and wanted to groan. "Do you know how to play poker?"

"Sure, doesn't everyone? I watch a lot of it on TV."

"I don't know. We have enough players already. One more person is going to make the tables odd."

Kofi shrugged. "I can be an alternate, you know, in case someone can't come?"

Miz sighed. "All right. Maybe we can…"

"Yes!" Kofi said, dancing around. "I'll see you there!" Miz started to turn away, but Kofi said, "Wait. Uh. Creative wanted to see you about something."

"What?"

Kofi shrugged. "No idea."

"Great," Miz grumbled. "Probably another stupid angle that has me feuding with Morrison or something. Thanks." With a wave, he walked away, leaving Kofi to his happy dance. "I hate this place," he muttered to himself twenty minutes later, when he realized he'd been wandering in a circle, looking for the office creative was set up in. He was glad to see a crewmember in one of the hallways. "Hey, do you know where creative is?"

"Are you with Cena's crew?" the guy asked.

Miz frowned. "Uh, no, I'm just…"

"Down that hall, and to the left," the guy said, dismissing him quickly and walking away.

Miz muttered, "Jerk," under his breath and turned down the hall the guy had pointed to. He could see that there were several offices down that way, none of which were marked. A door stood ajar about halfway down on the right, and voices drifted out. Miz sighed and followed the voices, intending to ask someone for better directions.

"Hey, Jim, check this out!" said one of the voices from the open door, followed by a burst of laughter. Miz couldn't help pausing there to see what was going on. He put an eye to the door and stared. At first, he couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. Cena was standing in the middle of the room with two guys half blocking the mega-superstar from view. One of them was fitting Cena's close shaven head with a stupid looking wig, while the other one seemed to be doing something to Cena's chest.

"Hey, knock it off with that Carlito wig," said a third man. "We've got to get Cena ready to wrestle tonight, and I don't have time for you two yokels to mess around."

"Sorry, boss," said the guy with the wig. He dropped it on the floor and waited til the boss had gone by before saying to his co-worker, "Man, I hate that guy. Being on Cena duty sucks. The least he could do is let us have a little fun, you know?"

"Come on, Alan. There's plenty of time for that later. I need your help calibrating the springs. He's due to lift up the Big Show tonight, and the last time we had him lifting Big Show, the tension was so tight, he nearly snapped an arm."

Alan stared at Cena's chest. Miz wondered what the hell they were doing, but since they were blocking his view (and the conversation was just so bizarre), he had just decided to walk away and let it be. As he made this decision, Jim said, "Done. Thank God," and he and Alan moved away from Cena, revealing a circuit board in the superstar's chest. Miz gasped, causing the two men to whirl around. "What the hell?" Jim asked.

"Sounded like someone was out there," Alan said.

Miz didn't waste any time. He started running back the way he'd come. To hell with whatever creative wanted, he had to get out of there. As he sprinted down the hallways, not really watching where he was going, Miz smacked headlong into HHH. "Whoa, buddy! What's the rush?" HHH asked, as he steadied Miz. "You okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"I… uh…" Miz tried to think of what to say, but his brain was still trying to process what he'd seen. "I think there's something wrong with Cena."

HHH frowned. "Cena?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"I think he's a robot."

HHH rolled his eyes. "Well, okay, so the guy has a limited moveset, but the kids love him and he's great on the mic."

"No, Hunter, I mean, I think he's an actual robot. Like with gears and springs and stuff."

"Oh man," HHH said. "Have you mentioned this to anyone else?"

"No," Miz said, shaking his head.

"Good. Come on, let's go talk to Vince about it. I knew there was something off about that guy! Geez." He took Miz's arm and led him through the halls expertly. "But a robot? That's pretty low. How do they think they can get away with this crap? I tell you, creative will try anything once." He led Miz to a door marked, "Office" and knocked.

"Come in!" Vince's voice rang through the door. "Ah, Hunter. What can I do for you?"

"I've brought Miz," he said, bringing Miz forward. "He says that Cena is a robot."

Vince frowned. "Oh?" He looked to Miz. "Is that true?"

Miz stared at his boss. "I know it sounds weird, but I saw it with my own eyes."

Vince sighed. "Ah. All right. This is a problem. We're going to have to do something about it." He paused. "Hunter, will you leave us alone?"

"Sure," HHH said. He closed the door, leaving Vince and Miz alone.

"Sit down, Miz," Vince said. Miz sank into the chair, his body shaking. "Are you all right?"

"No, I'm not all right!" Miz said. "I just found out that one of the guys I work with is a freaking robot!"

"I can see how that would be troublesome," Vince agreed. "However, it's not as uncommon as you'd expect. The Cenabot 5000 is a good machine…"

"Wait," Miz said, looking up at his boss in disbelief. "You knew about this?"

Vince leaned back in his chair. "Of course," he said. "I own the company. Do you really think they could have a robot here and I wouldn't know?" He chuckled and shook his head. "The question isn't whether or not I knew it; it's what we're going to do now that you know about it."

Miz bit his lip and stared at his boss. Vince was doing his kindly grandfather look, which usually spelled trouble. "I… Um."

Vince sighed regretfully as the door opened again. Miz jumped up and stared at HHH, who grabbed his arm. "I think he's not going to cooperate," HHH said. "He's never been much of a team player, has he?"

"No," Vince said as HHH shoved Miz back into the chair. "Sit still, Miz." He rummaged through the desk and came up with a packaged syringe and a bottle of something. "This won't hurt."

"I don't want to die!" Miz shrieked.

HHH chuckled, and the sound was sinister to Miz's ears. "Why do they always assume I want to kill them?" Vince asked. "Doesn't he know how hard that would be to explain? No, I think you need a little rest, that's all." He readied the syringe like a pro and approached the struggling superstar. Miz kicked and flailed and nearly managed to buck HHH off, but that all ended when he felt the needle slide into his flesh and the cold liquid inside met his bloodstream. "It won't be long now," Miz heard Vince say, before he slid down into the darkness.