SPOILERS -- 3/25/02 RAW.
DISTRIBUTION -- The list archives, my Web site and Smoochy Dreamers (if they
want it). Anyone else, please ask first.
DISCLAIMER -- The wrestling characters used (even if they have the names of real
people, or variations thereof) are owned by World Wrestling Federation
Entertainment, Inc. The people who portray those characters own themselves. No
copyright infringement is intended. By writing this story, I am not implying
that the situations depicted ever have, could or would ever take place. This is
a work of fiction. No profit is being made from this story -- it is for
entertainment purposes ONLY.
NOTES -- This takes place two days after Triple H pinned Stephanie and banished
her from the WWF. Jericho's monologue was taken from the 4/13/00 Smackdown!
recap at [slash] wrestling (http://www.slashwrestling.com/).
Stephanie McMahon stepped into the foyer of her home and dropped her luggage by the door.
No need to unpack right away, she thought. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.
As she turned to walk into the living room, she noticed her reflection in the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. She walked over and studied her appearance -- oversized Boston College sweatshirt, faded blue jeans, well-worn black Chuck Taylors, no makeup, hair straight and pulled back into a ponytail.
“Well,” she said to the person staring back at her, “at least one good thing came out of all of this -- I don’t have to dress like a slut anymore.”
A quiet laugh escaped her lips as an idea occurred to her. “Maybe I’ll start a bonfire with all of that leather and spandex. Wonder if Greenwich has any laws against open burning?”
She continued chuckling as she made her way into the living room and flopped down onto the sofa. She could just picture it -- her simple bonfire, meant to purge her of the last memories of Hunter, would probably rage out of control and level the entire city.
“Just my luck,” she said derisively.
As she shifted her position, her attention was drawn down to the sofa when her leg brushed against something on the cushion.
What’s this, she wondered, picking up a manila envelope and turning it around in her hands. Except for her name, printed in neat block letters, the envelope was blank.
Shane must have dropped it off when he brought in the mail, she thought as she stood up and placed the package on the coffee table in front of her. I’ll deal with it later.
She headed back into the hallway, glancing momentarily at her luggage before turning and walking the opposite way down the hall into the kitchen.
She opened the refrigerator and peered inside, sighing at its contents: a half-empty jug of milk and two containers of yogurt -- both probably well past their expiration dates.
“Looks like it’s either a TV dinner or pizza tonight,” she mumbled as she made her way over to the stove and put the kettle on for a cup of tea.
As she stood waiting for the water to boil, she found herself thinking about the envelope on the coffee table. By the time her tea was ready, her curiosity had gotten the best of her, so she walked back into the living room to open it.
She set her mug on the coffee table and opened the envelope. Inside was a video tape with no discernible markings on it.
Probably one final insult from Hunter, she thought. But she walked across the room and popped the tape into the VCR anyway.
Curling up on the couch, she turned the TV on and hit the “Play” button on the remote.
Almost immediately the WWF intro sequence began playing on the screen. But instead of segueing into either the RAW or Smackdown! openers, a montage of her TV appearances began playing. As they faded away, her name appeared on the screen.
Great, she thought, my husband dumped me, I’ve been kicked out of the WWF, and now I’ve got a stalker. Life can’t possibly get any better.
The picture faded to black, but a few seconds later Stephanie once again saw herself on the screen.
“Oh my god! That’s the first time I was on RAW.”
She laughed as she watched the scene unfold, remembering how nervous she was that night.
As the clip faded out, another one immediately began. She couldn’t believe it was only a little more than two years ago that she had been stalked by the Undertaker -- it felt like an eternity had passed since then.
“Oh, good lord -- the black wedding.” She had been scared out of her mind when Undertaker had strapped her to that symbol.
“Thank god for Austin,” she said as she watched herself hugging him in the middle of the ring. She couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on his face. “He looks scared to death. No wonder he avoided me after that -- he probably thought I wanted him or something.”
The scene changed again and she watched as Test knelt in the center of the ring and asked her out on a date.
Test. If there was one thing she regretted about her time in the WWF, it was how she had hurt him. She really had cared for him; probably even loved him.
She watched him now, standing in the center of the ring, waiting for her to walk down the aisle so they could exchange their wedding vows. “He really did look handsome in that tux.”
But then, true to form, Hunter had to show up and ruin everything. God, the look on his face when he told her family that he had snuck her off and married her. Even now, as she sat there and watched the footage, she still didn’t remember that night. “It’s probably best that way.”
And Daddy. He fought Hunter for her honor ... and she turned her back on him; on all of them.
“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek.
As she sat there watching the footage from the McMahon-Helmsley Era, she almost didn’t recognize herself. What happened to that sweet, innocent girl? When had she become the sneering bitch attached to Hunter’s side?
“When I fell in love with him,” she chastised herself. “That’s when I changed.”
What started out as a business arrangement had, rather quickly, turned into a real marriage. And as she let Hunter get closer to her, she pushed everyone else away -- until he was the center of her entire world. And he knew it.
A familiar voice drew her attention back to the screen.
“ ... So it seems, Stephanie, the Rock and all of the Jerichoholics were correct in calling you a bargain basement slut.”
Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley, meet Chris Jericho.
“But on top of that, I think you are the filthiest, dirtiest, most disgusting, skankiest, brutal, bottom-feeding trashbag ho that I have ever, EEEEEEEVER seen in my life! Damn, I feel better now.”
Let the games begin, she thought with a laugh.
Jericho had infuriated her to no end at first. It was like he went out of his way to get under her skin. But after a few weeks, she actually found herself enjoying their little spats -- not that she would ever admit to it, of course. Somehow, she knew that as long as Jericho was around, her life would never be boring -- she never knew what would come out of his mouth next. That was something she couldn’t say about her husband. With Hunter, it was always, “the belt, this; the belt, that; I am that damn good.” Ugh! It gave her a headache just thinking about it.
Movement on the screen again brought her attention back to the TV. Ah, the kiss. Well, actually, it was their second kiss -- at last year’s Summer Slam. The first had been more than a year before that, at King of the Ring. She had been so surprised by it, she didn’t even realize what had happened until it was over.
But the second kiss ... She knew what was coming as soon as he walked over to her. And, while she may have had to act surprised and disgusted -- Hunter WAS watching, after all -- she had to admit that she enjoyed it. Actually, she probably enjoyed it a little too much. Before she realized what she was doing, she found herself kissing him back. Hunter wasn’t too happy about that one.
But then Hunter was gone, and she was suddenly the owner of ECW. Okay, let’s just fast forward through that little fiasco, she thought as she watched the images fly across the screen.
And then Hunter came back and everything had changed. Everything she did made him mad. Hell, she didn’t even have to DO anything and he was mad at her. So, in an attempt to save her marriage -- and to get things back to the way they had been -- she told him she was pregnant. Okay, so it was a lie -- she wasn’t proud of what she had done, but she had been desperate, dammit!
So, after he had unceremoniously dumped her, she did the only thing she could think of -- she cozied up to the man who held Hunter’s precious belt. Chris Jericho. Hey, she was a McMahon; she was nothing if not devious, right?
Unfortunately, she was so focused on her pain and anger, she really wasn’t much help to him. Jericho lost the belts to Hunter at Wrestlemania. And what did she do when he was actually able to get a rematch? She opened her big mouth and wormed her way into it. Regret number two.
Stephanie blinked a couple of times as she realized that her last match was playing on the screen. Well, it won’t be long now, she thought, watching as Jericho rolled out of the ring and Hunter advanced on her.
As she watched Hunter give her the Pedigree and pin her for the three-count, she curled her body into a ball and began crying -- finally releasing the emotions she wouldn’t allow herself to show for so long.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered between sobs. “I’m so sorry.”
[ email author ]