Message Through a Wire

Message Through a Wire

Chapter One: Seeking

You never really do know who's on the other end of that instant message…

{Disclaimer: Vince McMahon owns the WWF. Characters belong to Titan Sports.}


"Milk on my clothes, milk on my shoes… Milk in my hair…" Stephanie McMahon Helmsley stripped herself of any milk stained items. "I cannot believe this is happening!" Stephanie screwed up her nose at the smell of her new designer skirt. "Steph, calm down." Shane tried to reason with his sister.

Stephanie threw her hands up in the air and screamed. "Calm down? CALM DOWN? That's a real good one, Shane. One for you. How can I calm down when I have cow's urine all over me?" Shane frowned. "Milk isn't cow's urine."

"Well, it came out of a cow, and it came from its penis. It's urine." Stephanie groaned and swiped the paper towel out of Shane's hand. "Steph, milk doesn't come from a cow's penis. It's the utters." Shane informed his irate sister.

"Who asked you anyway?"

Shane sighed. "Okay, okay. Change or something. And put those clothes into the washer machine. They smell horrible." Stephanie glared at her brother. "Thanks for being such great help, Shane. It's much appreciated."

"Look, sis, just because your ex affair came out-" Shane started, fiddling with his wedding ring. Stephanie frowned. "It wasn't an affair." She protested. Shane's face did not change expression. "He kissed you on more than one occasion."

Stephanie held the door open for her brother. "Go. Now." Shane didn't need any more proof. He left without another word. Stephanie straightened out her skirt. "God, this smells like shit." She held it loosely around her wrist and slammed it into the washing machine.

"God, I need a break." She decided. Flipping on her laptop computer, she typed in her password lazily and waited for internet to connect.

"Welcome," She muttered along with her computer, "you've got mail…" Clicking on her mouse, she wrinkled her nose up. "Delete, delete, delete…God, why would I want this? Idiots." Stephanie clicked off of her mailbox and decided to pay a visit in the WWF chat.

Scratching her head, she clicked into one from the people connection, and opened it. She typed: "Hey everyone. What do you think of Stephanie McMahon?" The replies were the same: "Slut. Whore. Ho. Jericho rocks!"

"Whatever," She typed. Before she could click out, an instant message popped up.


Stephanie raised her eyebrow and shrugged. "Hell, I might as well talk to him. Even if he is a Jericho fan." She typed in her usual Comic Sans MS font:

DominantGirl00: hey 24/f/Connecticut, u?


DominantGirl00: Oh, just like Chris Jericho?

BREAKDOWNDAWALL1: Yeah, exactly like Chris Jericho.

BREAKDOWNDAWALL1: Well, I take it you're a Steph fan.

DominantGirl00: Damn right I am.

BREAKDOWNDAWALL1: So what's your name?

DominantGirl00: Privacy is needed.



Chris Irvine sat at his computer, frowning. "Why won't she give me her name?" He asked himself. Sure, her screen name alone told him she was a complete bitch, but she seemed interesting.

He exited the instant message, knowing that she, if she really was a she, would IM him again. And sure enough…

DominantGirl00: So…what kind of interests do you have?

He frowned and sighed. "Hmm…What should I tell her?" Unsure, he typed:

BREAKDOWNDAWALL1: Mystery women I talk to on the internet

DominantGirl00: Really? Interesting. I am actually seeking a boyfriend.

BREAKDOWNDAWALL1: Well, we have something in common. I am seeking a girlfriend.

DominantGirl00: Lovely. So now what? We're gonna meet somewhere and you're gonna rape me? I don't think so.

BREAKDOWNDAWALL1: Wouldn't dream of it. I am really gentle, honest.

DominantGirl00: I'll see about that. Well, I g2g… Can I put you on my buddy list?

BREAKDOWNDAWALL1: Only if I can put you on mine.

DominantGirl00: Yeah, sure. Bye.