Vince McMahon: ...It surprised me too. Batista isn't even active. How did it happen?
Triple H: Man. So you wrote her out for nine months?
Vince: We had to. We...hang on. I'll finish this later. Hi Daniel.
Daniel Bryan: Hi, Mr. McMahon. Thanks for having me here. I really appreciate it.
Hunter: Ha ha! Show me paint the fence!
Bryan: Right...like I was saying. Thanks.
Vince: No problem. We have plenty of food to go around for the active roster. Would you like a hamburger or something?
Bryan: No thank you. Actually I don't eat meat.
Oh...because you're poor?
Bryan: No. I just don't agree with the way in which...
Hunter: Ai! This time no tournament. This time real! Show me paint the fence!
Bryan: What is he doing?
(to Hunter) What are you doing?
Hunter: Karate Kid quotes. Ha ha. You beginner luck. Now show me paint the fence!
Hunter: Wasn't that your scrubby Indy gimmick? Daniel-san?
Danielson. It's my name. Bryan Danielson.
Hunter: Oh. Well, show me paint the fence anyway.
(being polite) Ha ha. I don't really get it, but whatever. As I was saying, animals are...
(angry) Look, douche-a-pottamus, I'm not kidding. There are two cans of paint in the garage. Now go paint our goddamn fence or you can go back to doing the crane kick in a high school gym.
Long pause. Daniel Bryan looks to Vince for help.
Vince: You better go. He's had like nine energy drinks.
Dejected, Daniel Bryan walks away.
Hunter: I like him. He reminds me of the dwarfs in Snow White.
Vince: Which one?
Vince: I don't think he's a dwarf.
Hunter: Captain Caveman?
Vince: You're just naming cartoon characters now.
Hunter: Pinky and the Brain!
Vince continues cooking, ignoring his son-in-law. The Corre walks over.
Wade Barrett: 'Ello, Missa Mac-Man. Tank'ya for'n'viting da'Corre to your barber-cue.
Vince: No worries, Wade. You having a good time?
Wade: Absolutely. Justin loves da balloon twistah chap. He made'm a bicycle.
(jumping up and down)
This is the greatest day ever! EVER!
Vince: We love having you guys here. Fans have really taken to you. I'm a real big fan of the pale chick.
(to Heath Slater) That's you.
(sadly) I know.
(walking over with her plate outstretched) Excuse me, Mr. McMahon. Can I get a hamburger?
Vince: You can get on your knees and bark like a dog! HA! Remember that! I made you get naked on TV and bark like a dog!
(laughing uncontrollably) HA HA! Oh man! Remember that shit?! Everyone said you'd quit, but you didn't! In fact, you came back! HA! You have like a Master's Degree or some shit and I still got you to bark on TV! Woof!
(wiping his eyes)
Ah...that was awesome. So, what do you want? A hamburger?
Trish: Yeah. I'll just take it over to the corner and cry.
Evan Bourne walks over.
Evan Bourne: Hey, guys! Can I get some crab legs?
Wade: Why would you think we have crab legs here?
(motioning to where he came from) John Morrison. He pointed over here and said that I could probably get some crabs from that filthy Corre.
Wade: Uh, I don't think he was pointing at
Everyone silently looks at Trish.
(yelling across the yard) SCREW YOU, MORRISON! GOD!
As Trish runs off, so does the Corre.
Yo. You know those bags that Cody Rhodes puts on people's heads? You'll never guess what I did to them.
(grilling, not looking up) You crapped in them.
Vince: Then what did you do to them?
Hunter: Nothing. I'm not going to tell you now.
(pouting, under his breath) I'm not your friend.
Hunter: Nothing, Donald.
Are you still stuck on cartoon characters?! What is wrong with you?
(walking over, wide-eyed, slightly drooling) Hello. Mr. McMahon. The Truth is here and the truth shall set you free!
Vince: Hey R. You having a good time?
R-Truth: Is fatback greasy?
Vince: I'm not sure. Is that a person?
R-Truth: Yes it sure is. I'm having fun, but I tell ya, Mr. McMahon. These people are stupid. On the way in, this guy goes, "Yo! R-Truth! You the guy that raps, right? What's up? Can you sing to my little Jimmy?" He waves me over and goes, "OK now. You sing to Little Jimmy. Right here. Give him a What's Up? Do it for little Jimmy!"
Vince: Wow. Some people can't move on.
R-Truth: Right? Right? So I refused. Told him I wasn't singing to his Jimmy or anyone else's little Jimmy anymore!
Good for you.
R-Truth: Yeah. So he zipped up his pants and danced away.
Vince: Yeah. Some people don't get that...wait, what?
R-Truth: Oh, I'm sorry. That didn't come out right.
I meant that he put his penis away and left.
Vince: What?! Who would do that?!
Hunter: Ric! Oh my God, Ric! You came!
Ric Flair: All night long!
Whoooo! Hey, Vince! The Nature Boy has - by God - crashed the barbeque!
(beaming) No problem, Champ! Mi casa es Sin Cara.
Vince: Actually, no, Ric. I told Hunter that this was only for employees this year. We can't afford to feed any strays after Linda's Senate campaign. We could have fed a small country for what we spent on that thing.
Flair: Come on. Just give me a hot dog. I promise to pay you back. Here. You can hold on to my NWA Title until I do.
Hunter: That's our Ric!
Flair shrugs his shoulders and grins. Everyone laughs.
(yelling across the yard) Stop laughing and keep painting that f**kin' fence!
Can we just end this thing already?
Vince: Yeah. I think I heard Melina tell John Morrison to hold Trish underwater. I don't like where this is going. Tell the anonymous Raw General Manager to release the hounds.
Hunter: No problem, Yogi Bear. I'm on it.
(picks up a walkie talkie) Hey, Oprah, release the hounds.