Here’s another entry from my unreleased book, Hangman’s Wrestling Bestiary. A short biography of a woman I have absolutely no time for, Stephanie McMahon. Originally written on the 9th October 2014.
“Stephanie McMahon – A Life of Privilege”
Think sports-entertainment is a man’s world? Well this colossal whore won’t make you change your mind anytime soon. Mr. McMahon’s only white daughter, this fervent consumer of penis-flavoured lollipops has been bossing WWE’s most mentally disabled and learning impaired employees around since she was old enough to form incoherent sentences about male genitalia. As one of the principal owners of a 1980s camper van and WWE’s Head Chef, however, she does a lot more than just shake her tits and sound like a barfly lesbian at an all-you-can-eat gravel buffet. She’s proven herself to be a master of flatulence, ineptitude, commercial stupidity and writing impairment. Also, she stinks like a hamster cage. She’s also a part time man with which to be reckoned both in and out of the sauna. After all, how many phalluses does it take to suck your way to the top? About thirty. Just ask any of the backstage WWE personnel she’s bequeathed the gift of oral sex unto in the name of furthering her career. Take her own father for example. His granddaughters are allegedly also his daughters. She’s also been branded the “Most Vile Bitch in World History”, though that is admittedly a bit of a stretch considering most of the world hasn’t even heard of this standoffish troll. She is also a former Women’s Special Olympics Champion (although she cheated and was later stripped of her medal).
With the benefit of being born into a stupidly rich family and having everything handed to her her entire life, Stephanie first got in on the family business by sucking off fans. Later, she started sucking off wrestlers, before finally graduating to sucking off business executives and people she doesn’t like. By the time WWE’s “Attitude Era” had taken pop culture by storm, the incompetent, worthless and totally full of herself young McMahon was caught up in a redundant sex rivalry between her father’s Corporation of Consent and the Undertaker’s diabolical Ministry of Mamba. She may have appeared overwhelmed at first, no doubt because she was, but within years of her uninteresting debut, Stephanie had wed her father, gotten a divorce, married some guy who was just aching for backstage power, Triple H, and orchestrated a totally uninspired takeover storyline of WWE. It quickly became obvious that the sluttiest McMahon to ever sound like a drunk lumberjack did not have one single iota of creativity when it came to writing wrestling storylines. Also, it was later discovered by doctors that she didn’t carry two X chromosomes, making her an actual man in the eyes of the law.
In recent years, the former woman and all-round worthless bag of silicone has made sporadic on-air appearances whenever she feels like it because her daddy owns a TV show. A self-imposed reign as Women’s Champion, a self-imposed stint as Smackdown’s General Practitioner of Mediocre Entertainment, a self-imposed position as head writer for both Smackdown and WWE as a whole (a job at which she sucks more than her impressive oral intercourse skills), and of course a self-imposed and fully-fledged copycat re-enactment of her billionaire father’s footsteps as half of The Authority (a tired and utterly devoid of all merit rehashing of the Corporation of Consent from the 90s). All of this has ensured the everlasting expansion of Stephanie’s queendom of self-loving and privilege.
Away from the bland and fantastically boring content of modern day WWE TV (shaped and helmed by the talentless inherit-a-monopoly slag herself), Stephanie continues to force the fraudulent image of a person playing an active role in the community. As a grudging and clearly fake supporter of various charities that she doesn’t even know the names of, as well as being a strong advocate for the “Be a STUD” anti-bullying campaign, Stephanie wants everyone to think she’s kind and has a heart, although this is simply not the case and is merely a business tactic akin to advertising and brand awareness.
Whether inside the squared circle or a WWE employee’s bedroom, she’s never at a loss for manipulation or generally being a low down, greedy, full of herself whore with big plastic juggs and a horrendous, nightmare-inducing voice that tames penises into a false sense of security before she can suck them into la la land. WWE may be considered a man’s world (because it is), but Stephanie continues to be a man pretending to be a woman, one who is firmly in charge of her rich parent’s chequebook.