Disclaimer: Guess what! I own them! I own them all! And you know what else? My toes laugh at my jokes. And me and my Teddy bear, Skittles, have long talks about politics and ice cream. And I'm making every word of this up. And you believed me! Well, ok, so I'm not making ALL of this up. Hey, Skittles is smarter than the average bear!
Summary: My response to Linda's question on SmackDown. Need I say more?
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Linda McMahon. The saint. The honest one. The only decent McMahon. Do people actually *believe* that shit? Please. That woman is a bitch if I ever saw one. She was always portrayed as the sweet and caring one. She helped out fan favorites like The Rock and Mick Foley, and is now heading onto Chris Jericho. She seems to have a bit of a soft spot for Rob Van Dam, too. But I know what she's really like. She's an overpowering, domineering bitch, who hides behind a mask of innocence. I know, I know. None of you believe me. I'm just the slut who helps out the degenerates of the Wrestling world, and who sucks up and caters to her fathers every whim. But if only, just for a moment, you could see into my world. What I was put through. When I was young, Daddy was always away. Oh sure, he sent us gifts and presents, but there are some things credit cards just cant buy. I remember one year, when I was about 8 years old, Daddy went on a trip to go to Wrestlemania. Mommy was left alone with us kids, but another person became a part of our little group. I was just beginning to learn about sex, and was becoming quite interested. So naturally, when Mommy had that big blonde guy come into her bedroom to 'fix the alarm clock', I wanted to know what was really going on. After about 10 minutes of hearing nothing but little muffles and bumps, I pressed my ear to the door. I knew immediately what was going on.. I could hear the disgusting noises that they made. The moans, the gasps, the skin slapping against skin. Shocked that my own mother would do such a disgusting thing, I slid down the wall and just sat there. I must have sat there for an hour, not moving, not blinking, and barely breathing. It hurt. My mother, my very own mother, was slowly tearing my family --and my world-- apart. Daddy would find out, he had to. Silently I wondered what was going to become of Shane and me. Daddy was too busy to take care of us, and no judge would grant my cheating mother custody. There was no doubt in my mind that this would lead to a divorce. Suddenly, the noises stopped. I could hear them getting dressed, the muffled giggles and thumps of their clumsy limbs trying to put clothes on. A few minutes later, footsteps were coming towards the door. It occurred to be in an instant: I was sitting right in front of my mothers door, in plain sight. She'd know I knew. Quickly as I could, I tore down the hall and into my room. A split second after I shut my door, hers opened. They came out, and I could hear Mommy still giggling. Now it's 17 years later, and Daddy still doesn't know. I think Mom and 'Big Poppa Pump' know that I do, though. She became stern with me, handling my delicate body roughly. I learned my mean slap from her, and good ol' Holgan taught me a thing or two about intimidation. He, of course, wasn't the only one she slept with, just her favorite. Men came into her bedroom all the time, always with a different excuse, and always leaving with satisfied smiles and rumpled clothes. Then of course Daddy would come back, and everything would be fine for a few days, but then.. All hell would break loose. All the fights that went on in my house, all the words, all the threats, I think they affected me. Yes, I had every toy under the sun, but I never had enough of what I needed most: Love. Daddy cared, but it wasn't an unconditional love. Besides, he always favored Shane. Mom didn't give a rats ass what happened to me, but put on a façade for the public. So I turned my back on her, and became Daddy's little girl. That made me happy, but it was short lived. Him and Mom were getting friendly again, too friendly. So I turned to the one person who knew me, and what I was going through. The one person who cared, really cared, about my emotional well being, Shane. Yes, we're trying to put my parents out of business. Yes, I slapped my mother. Yes, we will win this war. So you want to know where you went wrong, huh Mom? I'll tell you. You give birth to two kids, then spoiled them rotten before corrupting there minds with the filth in yours. That's where you went wrong.
Summary: My response to Linda's question on SmackDown. Need I say more?
----~----~---~----
Linda McMahon. The saint. The honest one. The only decent McMahon. Do people actually *believe* that shit? Please. That woman is a bitch if I ever saw one. She was always portrayed as the sweet and caring one. She helped out fan favorites like The Rock and Mick Foley, and is now heading onto Chris Jericho. She seems to have a bit of a soft spot for Rob Van Dam, too. But I know what she's really like. She's an overpowering, domineering bitch, who hides behind a mask of innocence. I know, I know. None of you believe me. I'm just the slut who helps out the degenerates of the Wrestling world, and who sucks up and caters to her fathers every whim. But if only, just for a moment, you could see into my world. What I was put through. When I was young, Daddy was always away. Oh sure, he sent us gifts and presents, but there are some things credit cards just cant buy. I remember one year, when I was about 8 years old, Daddy went on a trip to go to Wrestlemania. Mommy was left alone with us kids, but another person became a part of our little group. I was just beginning to learn about sex, and was becoming quite interested. So naturally, when Mommy had that big blonde guy come into her bedroom to 'fix the alarm clock', I wanted to know what was really going on. After about 10 minutes of hearing nothing but little muffles and bumps, I pressed my ear to the door. I knew immediately what was going on.. I could hear the disgusting noises that they made. The moans, the gasps, the skin slapping against skin. Shocked that my own mother would do such a disgusting thing, I slid down the wall and just sat there. I must have sat there for an hour, not moving, not blinking, and barely breathing. It hurt. My mother, my very own mother, was slowly tearing my family --and my world-- apart. Daddy would find out, he had to. Silently I wondered what was going to become of Shane and me. Daddy was too busy to take care of us, and no judge would grant my cheating mother custody. There was no doubt in my mind that this would lead to a divorce. Suddenly, the noises stopped. I could hear them getting dressed, the muffled giggles and thumps of their clumsy limbs trying to put clothes on. A few minutes later, footsteps were coming towards the door. It occurred to be in an instant: I was sitting right in front of my mothers door, in plain sight. She'd know I knew. Quickly as I could, I tore down the hall and into my room. A split second after I shut my door, hers opened. They came out, and I could hear Mommy still giggling. Now it's 17 years later, and Daddy still doesn't know. I think Mom and 'Big Poppa Pump' know that I do, though. She became stern with me, handling my delicate body roughly. I learned my mean slap from her, and good ol' Holgan taught me a thing or two about intimidation. He, of course, wasn't the only one she slept with, just her favorite. Men came into her bedroom all the time, always with a different excuse, and always leaving with satisfied smiles and rumpled clothes. Then of course Daddy would come back, and everything would be fine for a few days, but then.. All hell would break loose. All the fights that went on in my house, all the words, all the threats, I think they affected me. Yes, I had every toy under the sun, but I never had enough of what I needed most: Love. Daddy cared, but it wasn't an unconditional love. Besides, he always favored Shane. Mom didn't give a rats ass what happened to me, but put on a façade for the public. So I turned my back on her, and became Daddy's little girl. That made me happy, but it was short lived. Him and Mom were getting friendly again, too friendly. So I turned to the one person who knew me, and what I was going through. The one person who cared, really cared, about my emotional well being, Shane. Yes, we're trying to put my parents out of business. Yes, I slapped my mother. Yes, we will win this war. So you want to know where you went wrong, huh Mom? I'll tell you. You give birth to two kids, then spoiled them rotten before corrupting there minds with the filth in yours. That's where you went wrong.
