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Submitted by Snapple on Saturday, July 17, 2004 at 5:57 PM EST
 Insert dramatic music Calvin: Well I'm off to go count my money again. Get right on that Snapple case. Before Triple-H could object, Calvin was already lost again in his own thoughts of genius. A slightly bewildered Hunter began to contemplate where Snapple might have gone. Fortunately for story purposes, the telephone next to the computer began to ring at that very second. Triple-H picked up the receiver and answered intently. HHH: I AM THE GAME-UH! How may I direct your call? Mysterious Voice: I know you're after Snapple. I know where you can find him. HHH: Is that all? Okay, I'm hanging up now. Voice: Hey! You're supposed to be helping find Snapple so you can work again remember? HHH: Oh yeah, that's right. So where is he? Voice: Drive down to the docks. You'll find out your answer there with the man in white. Oh, and your phone is going to explode in a few seconds. You'd might want to step on it. Triple-H slammed down the telephone and quickly looked for cover. Seeing no alternative, he took out his sledgehammer from behind the desk and punched a hole in the nearest window. He deftly jumped through the smashed windowframe and landed on the ground. Fortunately, Lordsofpain is only a one-story office. Just after that, a fireball shot out of the open window, charring Snapple's workspace in the process. Dusting himself off, he clicked the alarm button on his stretch limo to unlock it. HHH: Damned gratuitous action story explosions. Time to ride. As Triple-H walked towards his ride, the screeching of burning rubber neared him. A black van racing at full speed zoomed past Triple-H and threw a Molotov cocktail at the limo, causing it to burst into flames. Just as quickly, the black van sped away from the scene, leaving the firebombed limo a pile of smouldering rubble. HHH: Dammit! That was my third favorite limo. See kids, this is why you always tip when you valet park. Calvin poked his head out of the burned window. Calvin: Damn, that's a lot of explosions. WOOO! In order to be the man, you've gotta beat the van! Find a way to catch up. HHH: I bet that van is headed for the docks, too. Hmm. Triple-H looked around for alternate transportation when he spotted an old woman on a motorized cart coming down the sidewalk. Without even thinking, he grabbed the old woman off the cart, kicked her in the gut and Pedigreed her right onto the pavement. He then quickly commandeered the motorized cart and started putting along towards the docks. Calvin: That cart is moving kinda slowly, don't you think? Maybe you should get a car or something. HHH: Hey! It's not moving slowly. It's called telling a story. You internet punks don't appreciate a true driving style. To action!  Meanwhile, somewhere else... Snapple: You'll never get away with this, you bastard! Someone will make you pay for what you've done to me. I will get revenge with my super kungfu grip... er... as soon as I take some kungfu lessons. But after THAT, you'll be sorry. Voice: I doubt that, Tropicana. Just wait around a bit longer. That's when the real fun starts, brother. WILL Triple-H make it in time? Is Snapple doomed to some diabolical fate? Was this all just a huge waste of time? Will Snapple EVER get to writing about actual wrestling again? Find out next week in the exciting conclusion to ACTION HUNTER. HHH: I wasn't done with those eggrolls, and now they're overcooked. This time, it's personal. To be continued... Story by Snapple. Send feedback to happydude5000@msn.com
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