Cue to the outskirts of Connecticut, where the morning sun that signaled the beginning of a new day was scenically rising over the golden horizon, sprinkling rays of fuchsia and marigold across the soft, cloud-dappled skies. The rays lazily bathed across a magnificent estate, which proudly bore the surname McMahon engraved elegantly in white gold on the gates. As the birds flew around, chirping and singing, the doors to the McMahon mansion slowly opened, and out stepped a tall, slim brunette with ice-blue eyes and a rather haughty expression, dressed in a black silk pantsuit and cradling a wicker basket upon which rested a single hardcover book. Stephanie McMahon was her name...and apparently, for that day, at least, returning overdue book(s) was, unfortunately, her game. Stephanie glanced around at her surroundings sneeringly, before huffing and walking over to the gate, strutting along the path that would take her into town. I can't believe the limo's in the garage today, she thought huffily to herself, as she strutted haughtily down the road. I mean, I know Mom and Shane took the other limo when they got mad at Daddy and everything, but you'd think that with all his money, Daddy would have bought a second limo by now. But no, he has to wait while he gets this whole family feud thing settled. Stephanie sighed, and paused to flick a lock of chestnut hair away from her eyes.
"Ugh, and thanks to Daddy's waiting, I now have to walk to town, which means dealing with those idiotic, uneducated townspeople and their ridiculous morning ritual," she grumbled to herself, as she saw with a sinking feeling that she was rapidly approaching the town. A few more yards and she would be there, in time to catch the townspeople's bizarre morning routine. Stephanie stood hesitantly at the town entrance, and darted a quick glance at her watch.
"Any minute now," she muttered to herself.

Somewhere in the distance, a lone rooster crowed. A precise second after that first rooster call, all the windows of nearby houses snapped open, one after the other, while overly cheerful townsfolk bubbled, "Good morning!" with chirpy, unnaturally happy voices and goofy smiles on their bright faces. Stephanie scowled, before ducking her head and attempting to hide her face behind the thick hardcover book, deciding to complete this errand as humanly fast as possible. Nodding absently at the scattering of, "Good morning's!" from the insanely chirpy common folk, Stephanie rushed as fast as her designer open-toed sandals could carry her...which, unfortunately, wasn't too fast. Add her desperate tottering on the high, narrow heels of her sandals to the fact that she had her face ducked behind a book, and it wasn't long before Stephie Mac bumped into someone. That someone just happened to be the local baker.
"Good morning, Stephanie!" the as of right now unnamed baker bubbled happily, a wide grin on his chubby face. Stephanie raised her head to check whom she'd smacked into, decided that she couldn't be bothered with, and pointed out in a clipped tone, "That's Miss McMahon to you."
"So, Steph, where're you headed with that yonder book of yours?" the baker chirped, ignoring her less-than-cheerful greeting and request to be referred to in a more formal manner.
"To the bookstore, where else? Now that Shane's taken all his credit cards and checkbooks and moved out to compete with Daddy's WWF, Inc., I'm stuck with returning his overdue books," Stephanie grumbled, and whipped forward the hardcover copy, which proclaimed in bold green letters, 101 Surefire Ways to Steal a Company From Right Under Your Father's Nose.
"Eh...that's really nice of you, Stephanie," the baker mumbled, looking suddenly uneasy at this unexpected inside look at the billion-dollar McMahon Family.
"I mean, who the hell does Shane think he is? He had the whole world at his fingertips--granted, he didn't really deserve it, I did--and yet he was willing to throw that all away! And for what? Just to stick up for Mom?" Stephanie ranted. "I mean, yeah, Mom had a right to be upset after finding out about Daddy's affair with Trish Stratus and all, but I took care of that blonde boob like I said I would, didn't I?!"
"Ugh..." the baker began to inconspicuously inch away from the rambling woman, eyes darting around for the nearest escape route.
"Honestly, sometimes I just can't believe Shane is a McMahon! Where is his backstabbing spirit? What happened to his manipulating ways? I thought I could look up to him as being just as cunning and mean-spirited as I was, but no, this time he had to stick up for Mom of all people!" Stephanie rambled along. "Please don't tell me that he's going to be fighting 'the good fight' from now on, because if that's the case and Shane's turned over a new leaf, then I think I'm going to throw up. Which isn't a good thing at all, considering how the act of bending over a toilet and hurling your meal into the bowl isn't very lady-like at all. Nor is it a very evil thing to do, and a girl's gotta protect her reputation around here, you know? And what is it about that weird book of Shane's? 101 Surefire Ways to Steal a Company From Right Under Your Father's Nose?! Shane better not be thinking about taking WWF, Inc. away from Daddy, because if that's the case, then..."
"Oh, my, look at the time, gotta go!" The baker, who realized that a good ten minutes had passed, zipped out of sight at a fantastic speed, creating a dust cloud behind him.
"...And about Shane saying that he can compete with Daddy's mind, wha--Hey! Where did that loser go?" Stephanie glanced around, having stopped her rant to take a quick breath of air, and noticed that the baker was long gone. Shrugging, the blue-eyed young woman told herself that the lowly commoner didn't deserve in the least bit to be graced with neither her presence nor her lovely voice anyway, and kept on walking.

Stephanie finally arrived at the quaint New England bookstore and stormed in, the bell hanging above the door ringing furiously to signal her arrival. The elderly shopkeeper glanced up and squinted, before recognizing his customer and forcing a nervous smile on his wrinkled face.
"Good morning, Miss McMahon. Did you enjoy the book I lent you two months earlier?" he requested, in a tone as reverent as possible. In response, Steph made a sour face, before replying, "Ugh, what do I care? I wasn't the one who borrowed the book anyways, it was my idiotic brother Shane, and now I'm here to return it for that ungrateful little--"
"Right, right," the old man interjected quickly, before Stephanie could go off on another one of her anti-Shane McMahon rants.
"Well, Miss McMahon, it is the store's policy that someone usually pay for an overdue book..." the shopkeeper began. Stephanie's face began to darken, and her chestnut eyebrows narrowed dangerously as soon as those unwelcome words were uttered.
"But since your family has such influence, I believe that we can just forget about the little fine," the old man quickly informed her. The eyebrows relaxed, but there were still plenty of thunderclouds in Stephanie's icy blue eyes. Obviously, hearing about the fine in the first place had not made her day.
"And...uh...to compensate you for returning the book in the first place, why don't you pick out any hardcover copy in the store? Whichever one you want, it's yours!" the shopkeeper added quickly, hoping to appease the young woman standing in front of him. Stephanie's expression relaxed somewhat, as she walked over to the shelves, studied the titles for a brief while, and then randomly--or not-so-randomly--chose a copy and showed it to the shopkeeper. The elderly man put on his reading glasses and studied the title critically.
"Manipulating for Dummies," he read, and inwardly did a double take, before forcing a hasty smile on his face and chirping in a tone as bright as possible, "Well then, Miss McMahon, this book is yours."
Stephanie shrugged, and placed her new book in her basket, as the shopkeeper inwardly prayed, Please don't tell your father about the fine, please don't tell your father about the fine, please don't tell your father about the fine...Steph began to stroll out of the store, and the shopkeeper relaxed.
"Oh, and by the way." The young woman paused, and turned around right as she was about to head out of the building. "I'm sure Daddy will be interested to hear about your generosity."
The poor man nearly fell down. Oh, well, he sighed to himself, I was going to retire in just a few years, anyway...

As the pink early-morning skies gave way to the clear azure that signaled midday, a flock of geese could be spotted circling around the fluffy white clouds in a near-perfect V formation. As the geese flew about, minding their own business, a loud gunshot rang out, and one of the large birds promptly faltered and began a downwards spin, having been hit by the bullet. Meanwhile, on the ground below, a short, skinny man, obviously playing the role of sidekick and whom, judging from the greasy hair and goofy polka-dotted bandanna, we could all tell was X-Pac, held out a large sack expectantly, waiting for the goose to plop nicely into it. However, due to the fact that just about everybody hated X-Pac--and that includes dead geese--the fat bird landed on the spot right next to X-Pac and his sack, creating a cloud of dirt and dust. X-Pac coughed irritably, then yanked the dead goose, resisting the urge to throttle it before stuffing it grumpily into the bag and stalking off to the man who had shot the bird.
"Wow, Hunter, that was some shot!" X-Pac squealed in the typical sidekick admiring way, tottling over to a tall, bearded man with a blonde ponytail. Hunter Hearst Helmsley, aka Triple H, blew away the smoke circling the tip of his hunting rifle, before pausing to check his reflection in a conveniently nearby mirror and boasting proudly, "I know-uh, because I am the Game-uh, and I am that damn good-uh!"
"No game--um, prey--can escape from you, Hunter," X-Pac chirped admiringly. He tee-heed, before declaring, "As a matter of fact, no chick can, either."
Hunter stopped kissing his biceps for a minute, before turning around and saying, "You're right-uh, and right now-uh, I've got my eyes-uh, on that young lady-uh."
X-Pac, after deciphering what Hunter had just said, turned to look in the direction his idol was gazing at, and a frown began to knit his eyebrows.
"Her?" he demanded incredulously, pointing at a rather pissed off looking Stephanie McMahon, haughtily stalking back toward her palatial estate and rudely jabbing people out of her way.
"Yes-uh, because she's the best-uh--Stephanie McMahon-uh is both beautiful and rich-uh, and that makes her the best-uh, and Hunter Hearst Helmsley deserves the best-uh," Hunter declared. X-Pac frowned.
"Maybe, but isn't she kind of...um...high maintenance?" he asked, choosing his words carefully and wincing as Stephanie screeched at some poor commoner.
"Perhaps-uh, but she's still the best-uh, and Hunter Hearst Helmsley only settles for the best-uh," Hunter reminded him.
"That and she's got a billion bucks, right?" X-Pac guessed.
"Well, yeah," Hunter admitted, speaking normally for a change, then struck a manly muscle pose. A few minutes passed. Stephanie McMahon strutted haughtily past the two men, not giving them the light of day. Hunter blinked, shocked that a girl hadn't fallen gibbering at his feet--especially when he had struck one of his muscle poses--the fact that he and his band of degenerates had raised plenty of hell at the McMahons' billion-dollar corporation never once coming into mind. After a few minutes of gazing openmouthed at Stephanie's retreating back, Hunter quickly shut his jaw and scrambled to follow her, only to find himself plastered against the side of a passing Amish horse buggy.
"Out of my way-uh!" the irritated blonde man roared, before coming to the oh so brilliant conclusion that yelling at a horse buggy wasn't going to get him anywhere and circling around the wagon in an effort to chase after Stephanie. Hunter pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, ignoring the outraged cries of the all the people he'd elbowed aside, before deciding that he didn't have the time nor the patience to bully around a bunch of townsfolk into letting him pass and promptly scaling the wall of the nearest house. Hunter then began rooftop-hopping, leaping from house to house in an effort to catch up to Stephanie.

Stephanie tottered on in her high-heeled, open-toed sandals, deciding that she couldn't get away fast enough from these lowly non-billionaires and their seeming obsession with staring at a McMahon whenever one came into town. The gates to the magnificent McMahon estate were in view when she heard a screech, followed by the sound of something heavy falling through the air, and ending in a final loud thump. Stephanie blinked as the dust cloud sprang up around her, coughing irritably before realizing that the one who'd screeched, fallen heavily through the air, and landed with a loud thump was none other than X-Pac, who was crumpled on the ground a few feet in front of her in a rather painful-looking tangle of limbs. A rustling sound signaled the descent of another, before Hunter leapt down, using X-Pac's twisted body to cushion his landing.
"Thank you very much-uh, for understanding that I couldn't get my boots dirty-uh," Hunter announced graciously.
"No problem, boss," X-Pac croaked feebly from underneath one of Hunter's black leather boots.

Stephanie glared at the two men in distaste: they were both former members of the now defunct Degeneration-X--a group of degenerates that had raised more hell at WWF, Inc. than she cared to remember.
"Out of my way, you band of cretins, or I'll tell Daddy on you," she growled, and attempted to strut past the duo. Hunter, who'd been busy checking to make sure that he hadn't gotten his boots dirty, quickly leapt off of X-Pac (much to the latter's relief) and hurried to block Stephanie's path. Placing an elbow casually against her shoulder, he said as suavely as possible, "Good morning, Stephanie." The youngest McMahon glanced down at his elbow in distaste.
"Good morning, Hunter," she gritted out in a clipped tone, and hurried to push past him and his expensive black leather boots. Hunter, however, had other plans for her.
"Hey-uh, you picked up a book-uh," he said, and before Stephanie had a chance to protest he'd snatched the copy away from her hands.
"Give that back!" Stephanie screeched, while Hunter read over the title and absently rubbed his sore ear--the one which had been closest to Stephanie when she'd trilled her protest.
"Manipulating for Dummies?" Hunter scoffed. "Stephanie-uh, you should know-uh, that those Dummy Series are a bunch of crap-uh. If you want a real master at manipulation-uh, you should learn from the best-uh--namely, me-uh!"
Stephanie scowled, and crossed her arms, glaring at Hunter and holding out her hand in a gesture for him to return her book.
"You are truly a degenerate, Mr. Helmsley," she muttered in a rather disdainful tone. Hunter took that as a compliment.
"Why, thank you," he said, looking rather proud. "Why don't we discuss-uh what a degenerate-uh I am at the DX bar-uh?"
Stephanie huffed, and snatched her book away from Hunter, turning around to stomp away.
"No thank you, Hunter. Daddy only wants me to date nice people, like Rob Van Dam," she informed him haughtily. At hearing that particular sentence, X-Pac, who'd gotten himself untangled by then, stood up and began to snicker.
"You still listen to that old, wrinkled, toupee-wearing pervert? He can fire people left and right, and yet he can't even keep a secret affair from his wife!" he scoffed, and laughed heartily along with Hunter.
"Don't you two degenerates dare talk that way about my daddy!" an enraged Stephanie screeched. Hunter quickly stopped his guffaws, partly because he wanted to be on her good side, mostly because her high-pitched shrill had given him strong enough of an headache to make him forget what was it that X-Pac had said that was so funny.
"Yah, don't you dare-uh, talk that way about my--uh, I mean, her daddy-uh," Hunter spoke up in defense of Stephanie's father, and quickly smacked X-Pac upside the head so hard that it knocked the poor sidekick onto his face and into a puddle conveniently located in the spot directly in front of him.
"For your information, my daddy happens to be a respectable, self-made billionaire who treats his employees with as much care and respect as he would his own children--" Stephanie began to say, when all three heard the distinct voice of Vince McMahon bellow, "You're fired!" Stephanie jumped up and down in glee, wondering who it was that her daddy had fired this time, and rushed off to make sure she got in her share of humiliating the fired employee as well, while Hunter and X-Pac just stared after her.
"Um, boss, are you sure you still want her...?" X-Pac asked in a tiny voice. Hunter stopped staring after Stephanie's retreating back long enough to answer.
"She's the best girl in this place-uh," he reminded his sidekick. X-Pac sighed.
"And the richest," he muttered pointedly.
"That too," Hunter replied.

Stephanie hurried through the gates and into the mansion, rushing down the hallways to greet her father. She found Vince McMahon sitting in the library, face red and hair all riled up, wearing his smug I-just-fired-someone-so-ha expression. He was sitting in one of the expensive black leather couches, staring into the fireplace and sipping brandy from a glass.
"Daddy! Who did you just fire?" Stephanie asked expectantly. Her father waved his hand carelessly in the air.
"Oh, just the butler. I fired him three days before he was set to retire, you know," he told his daughter, who immediately broke into a gleeful grin upon hearing his words. "Anyway, Steph, I've got more important news."
Stephanie eagerly scooted over next to her father, and listened in thoughtful silence as Mr. McMahon explained how the biggest rival company to WWF, Inc., which happened to be called WCW, Inc., had just gone out of business and was up for sale. He already had all the documents drawn up, and all Mr. McMahon had to do was head down to WCW Headquarters and sign them, finalizing the deal. The two McMahons gloated together for a while, before Stephanie remembered the title of her brother Shane's latest book, and quickly told her father about it, suggesting that he better hurry on down to WCW Headquarters--and fast.
"You're right, Steph, you're right," Mr. McMahon agreed, and stood up while his daughter put on his suit coat for him. "Now, I can trust you to keep the house in order while I'm gone, right?"
"Of course, Daddy," Stephanie told him. "Now you just hurry on down there to WCW Headquarters and finalize that deal!"
"All right, then," Mr. McMahon said, then, in a more hearty tone, boasted, "I'm going to buy WCW!"