Rikishi had been feuding with Ted Dibiase for several weeks now, and by extension, that meant he was feuding with Dibiase's valet Maryse as well. Dibiase and Maryse weren't stupid. They were aware of the risks of getting mixed up with the Samoan Stinkface Machine. He had a history of busting out the stinkface, a most unorthodox wrestling maneuver which involved him thrusting his obese, sweaty buttocks into the faces of both male and female opponents in order to punish and humiliate them for their transgressions. No one was exempt from the move, not even the women. Every McMahon except for Linda had been a recipient of the stinkface at one time or another.
In fact, it could be said in some circles that receiving the stinkface was a rite of passage in order to gain respect. It showed you were willing to really suffer for your profession.
It wasn't just the idea of having Rikishi's butt pressed into their faces that made them uneasy about their matches with him. There were stories shared amongst wrestlers backstage which had become Locker Room Lore. Stories of Rikishi farting while administering the move (Edge, Lita, Road Dogg, Big Boss Man), stories of him not wiping his ass properly (Booker T, Stephanie McMahon, VINCE McMahon, Pat Patterson) and there were even rumors that he kept a certain pair of tights which had never been washed around which he saved for people he really disliked (Trish Stratus, X-Pac, Billy Gunn, the Dudleys). Maryse felt that although Mister Solofa Fatu Jr. wasn't an avid supporter of hers, surely he had more tact than to actually let his bowels party all over the face of a female athlete with rock star looks and a supermodel figure. Even though she had absolutely no plans to jeopardize her pride by finding out for herself, she didn't really believe that Rikishi took the move that far. He made those childish gas faces for the fans, mainly the kids in attendance, and he leaned into it merely to get their overactive imaginations going. That was all. Everything in entertainment involved either blowing smoke or admiring mirrors. She preferred the latter.
Things had not been going well for Dibiase and Maryse for some time. Maryse stayed on Ted constantly for more, more, more. Whether it was more attention, more championships, more glitz, more glamour, more oral service to her smooth, shaven mound. Ted was growing weary of all of it. It's not that he had minded doing all those things for Maryse, especially going down on her. At first. It's that he never got anything in return from the spoiled diva. And now that she had slapped him in the middle of the ring, in front of thousands, maybe millions (he wasn't sure) of fans in attendance, he was abandoning her to the tender mercies of the Samoan Stinkface Machine, who promptly grabbed her up in a bearhug and held her tight. He preferred to let these things sink in very slowly with his victims, especially the divas. They were so fun to stinkface. Their looks of astonishment never failed to please him when he would watch back the tapes. Rikishi held Maryse tight up against him and swiveled his hips in a repulsive manner as he grinded his lower regions against hers. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips quivered as if she had just been violated. But hadn't she? He ended it with a belly to belly suplex transitioned into a Samoan Slam, then dragged her over to the corner so her head rested precariously against the bottom turnbuckle.
Maryse thought she had been aware of the dangers of being in the ring at the same time as Rikishi, but she never really thought she'd be sitting in the corner struggling to overcome her dizziness as the distance between Rikishi's fat ass and her soft, supple face lessened. Rikishi was going to enjoy this one more than normal. Maryse had earned this. Deep down, she knew it. She reminded Rikishi of an early Trish Stratus, before Rikishi taught her respect courtesy of the stinkface. It was a lesson Maryse was soon to learn. She finally shook her head free of confusion, but it was too late. The ass of death was upon her.
Strange odors surrounded her and assailed her nostrils, corrupting and overtaking the many fragrances she wore to the ring. She experienced a moment of clarity that revealed this was really going to happen to her, a woman of exceptional beauty and unparalleled class, brought down by a 500 pound stinky Samoan. And from where she was sitting, downwind of the bulging, bulbous, quadruple dimpled, melon-shaped posterior, there was one thought that was fighting its way to the surface in her mind: Yes, he really does shit on people! HELP!
The revelation was too much and her mouth dropped open in terror. Big mistake. It was common knowledge among wrestlers backstage that you were supposed to keep your mouth shut during the stinkface so that no hanging debris found its way into your mouth. It seemed that the male wrestlers were much better at following this rule than all the divas who had been victims of the famous move. This was no doubt due to their overwhelming fear and transparent disgust at being exposed to the defecatory organ of such a maligned physical specimen.
She was so close to his butt now she could see the ripples and folds of cottage cheese, the mars-like craters and dimples. There were even a few pimples ripe to pop dotting his backside from the back of his outer thigh all the way to the inner part of his crack. One was grape-sized and looked like an eyeball staring at her. She could have sworn it pulsated as he flexed his butt muscles and made them dance as a spectacle for her. He pulled his already skimpy thong so that it became a wedgie and she now saw more of Rikishi than she had ever cared to. In a few seconds, she knew she would smell and taste it as well. Rikishi taunted her by swinging his hips from side to side and smacking his ass cheeks so hard they jiggled and sent specks of perspiration flying into her eyes. He reveled in the feeling of Maryse's tiny, warm breaths blowing at his backside in spasms of womanly panic. It was just like he'd imagined it would feel when he was on the toilet earlier with these same tights around his ankles on the filthy restroom floor. He'd thought then about how much of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it would be if Maryse was actually stupid enough to get involved in his match, so that he could leave his mark on her the way he had most of the WWE girls: a skidmark. But Maryse's short, hysterical bursts of breath were a warm breeze on his backside, nothing like that feeling of cold toilet water splashing him in his barely wiped ass as he pulled up his encrusted undies he'd been saving for her.
He raised up his lower half so he stood on his toes, then moved backward and slammed into her. Unlike previous stinkfaces, where Rikishi would keep his victim near the top or in the center, he sat almost on the top of Maryse's head, which submerged her so far between his thighs and butt that his balls momentarily smacked her lips. Her beautiful hair was getting tangled deep, even further than where his thong was situated. There was no mistaking what she was smelling now. It was the stench of a rarely wiped, even more rarely washed area of his ass from being so heavy. Maryse Ouellet was being smeared with leftover fecal matter so sticky it left an invisible film over her hair, forehead, ears, eyebrows, nose, lips and chin. The smell was almost primitive as it washed over her.
Despite all of this, Maryse actually thought she had gotten off relatively easy when she noticed he hadn't broken wind as she had heard he did with other divas (Trish, Lita, Stephanie, Melina, Ashley). No need to worry. He was getting to that.
He raised up momentarily as if he was finished. He contemplated letting her up. But this was just too much fun. No sooner than she drew fresh air into her lungs, he shoved himself back into the French Canadian Beauty's sultry face. As she disappeared back into his crack, he expelled a long, pungent fart that sounded like an old man grunting. It exploded and moved outward, spraying her face with the noxious vapors of Rikishi's digestive faculties.
He bared down and used her for one final wipe and farted into her forced open mouth. Her tongue dampened his tights where they touched. She tasted a salty sensation polluting her mouth. He stood up and surveyed the destruction he had brought to this beautiful creature's nymph-like visage.
Even though the stinkface was over, she could smell and taste it all around her. She was afraid to swallow her own saliva on the chance that she'd have his 'funk' moving throughout her body.
What was most ironic is that Maryse would not learn her lesson from this. She would go on to be known as the Queen of Vanity as she brought her bitchiness to both Monday (Raw) and Friday nights (Smackdown). Her arrogance would net her many more Diva Championship wins and the fact that her face had once been a parking space for Rikishi's rump would be a well kept secret, dusted under the professional wrestling rug along with Edge's infidelities, Orton's superstar tantrums, Batista refusing autographs for disabled children and the drug habits of an endless list of superstars. Any time Maryse was questioned about it from an overzealous Rikishi fan or even a curious Maryse fan, she would quickly change the subject. After all, she was too beautiful to have suffered such a fate. But she did, didn't she? We all saw it that night on Monday Night Raw, and the WWE Universe can surely never forget that it was at the conclusion of a number one contender's match to the United States Championship, which neither Rikishi or Dibiase won thanks to Maryse's interference which the ref felt warranted a Double Disqualification. Such things can be the pettiness of Sports Entertainment.