Chapter One – Grapefruits

Kirsten Jarvis had been perched on the edge of the leather sofa for somewhere close to an hour, twiddling her thumbs as the secretary tapped away at her keyboard with overlong nails. Her stomach was churning; she couldn't believe she had been invited for a meeting with the chairman of World Wrestling Entertainment himself, Vincent Kennedy McMahon Jr. She couldn't exactly call herself a big wrestling fan, in fact it couldn't have been further from the truth, but the man was a huge success story and the head of a major, multinational corporation. She had aimed for understated class, wearing a long black skirt and blue shirt, her brown hair tied up in a neat ponytail, and was increasingly feeling as though she had possibly made too much of an effort. Finally, the heavy wooden doors to the office burst open and there stood Vince McMahon, a huge, imposing figure, in all his glory.

"Who's next?" Vince roared, feet wide apart, making himself appear as intimidating as possible.

"A Miss Jarvis," the large secretary replied in a thick southern accent, "She has an appointment about the job in public relations."

"Well, send her in Goddamn it!" the chairman yelled, before turning around and strutting his way back into his office, slamming the door hard behind him. Kirsten stood up, suddenly a lot more nervous about her meeting, and made her way towards the doors.

"Mister McMahon will see you now." The secretary informed, about a minute too late.

"Thank you." Kirsten replied, raising a confused eyebrow, and walked into the office. The interior was a far cry from the rest of the dull offices in the building, almost excessively decorated. Off to the side of the room was one long sofa, into which were crammed two men and one woman, facing out towards an office chair, which was pointed towards the desk. On the other side of this was another chair, Vince's, behind which stood two aged men, either side of their employer. Behind Vince was a huge portrait, a beautifully painted depiction of himself, topless, holding the world on his shoulders as if he were Atlas.

"Jarvis, right?" Vince asked, as loudly as ever.

"Yes, sir." Kirsten replied, nervously.

"Take a seat, Jarvis!" he yelled, a request she quickly accepted, heart beating ever more quickly, "We use Christian names around here, Jarvis, what's yours?"

"Kirsten, sir."

"Kirsten, eh? Well, I'm Vince, to the right of you are my son, Shane, my daughter, Stephanie, my commentator, Jim, and behind me are my friends, Pat and Gerald."

"Nice to meet you all." Kirsten said, looking around the room at everyone with a nervous smile.

"Good work on the tit job, by the way." Vince complemented, taking a huge swig of coffee as he inspected the young woman.

"I'm sorry?" Kirsten had to pause for a second, finding it hard to believe that the WWE chairman had possibly said what she thought she had heard, especially when she had never even considered breast augmentation.

"Last time you came in here, I told you that you were too flat to be a WWE Diva. I know the truth hurts sometimes, but I'm glad you took my advice. That's a rack worthy of a title reign. I'm not afraid to tell you that we've got big things in store for you." Vince elaborated. Kirsten looked around to the three people sitting to her right, as if hoping somebody would say something, but Jim Ross simply shook his head with a knowing sadness. Gerald Brisco walked over to Vince, leant over and whispered in his ear. The chairman's expression suddenly changed completely. "Gerald tells me that you're applying for a job in public relations."

"That's right, sir." Kirsten said with a smile, glad the confusion had passed.

"Now why the hell would you want to go and do something stupid like that?"

"I don't really understand what you mean, there was an opening for the job..."

"I know that! If there wasn't an opening, you wouldn't be here, but I'm Vince McMahon damn it! I mean, you ever heard of Ted Turner?"

"Uh... yeah, I kind of ha..."

"Exactly! You've never heard of Ted Turner, just like you've never heard of Dr. D David Schultz!"

"Okay, that one I agree with." Kirsten said, wondering why Vince was quite so purple in that moment.

"I like the cut of your jib, Jarvis! That's why I want to put you on TV, starting this week! Because there's nothing a man likes more than a beautiful woman on his television, certain present company excluded!"

"But I don't know anything about being on television, Mister McMahon." Kirsten pleaded, becoming increasingly worried by the completely misguided enthusiasm of her potential employer.

"What's to know? Stephanie, find Kirsten here something to do! Stick her on Wrestling Challenge or something, Demolition need a new valet!"

"Vince," Jim Ross said, sounding completely frustrated as he spoke in his Oklahoma drawl, "Wrestling Challenge hasn't been on since 1996, and Demolition haven't been with us since 1991."

"JR, bullshit like that is why I keep firing you." Vince grumbled, "You're still here, Jarvis? Shane, give her an XFL cap and get her out of my office! Nitro's kicking our asses in the ratings and I'm not going to lose this war." He turned away from Kirsten, looking up at his giant portrait with admiration. Shane quickly reached down into a cardboard box, full of never worn baseball caps, and walked over to place one on Kirsten's head, before spinning her chair around and motioning towards the door. Kirsten got up, still relatively shell shocked by her meeting with Vince, and walked towards the exit. "Oh, and Jarvis?" Vince said, halting her in her tracks, "Welcome to the WWE."