When Mary Sues Strike Back
"I have five dollars," Gerald Brisco announced brightly.
Vince McMahon stroked his agitated eyes, "Gerry, that's not going to bail out our IPOS."
Shane McMahon stared at his stock portfolio, "What can we do, Pop?"
"Ratings?"
"...are in the tank..."
"stocks?"
"..In the tank, and sinking."
Vince groaned and tried to grind his eyes out of his skull. "The books all want to quit. Hollywood's hanging up on me." He launched out of his seat, landing at his son's feet, "Help me Shane!"
"But I don't know what to do, pop." Shane muttered. From across the room, he saw comprehension dawn in Pat Patterson's countenance, and he snapped his fingers.
"I've got it!" Pat unlocked his briefcase, taking out a thin sheaf of paper.
"What are you doing, Pat?" Vince asked, incredulous.
"I just remembered that I've been reading this stuff from the Internet," He slipped his thumb through the stapled stacks, "It's called fanfic."
Shane turned pale, "Fanfic writers?!" He shuddered, "You want to hire fanfic writers?!"
Pat frowned, "Well, I know they're kind of hard on you, Shane!"
"Hard?!" Shane moaned, "If I'm not playing a murderer, I'm BEING murdered, not to mention raped, screwed and molested by various members of both genders."
Vince wrinkled his nose, "There's nothing about me in this stack, is there?"
"Actually, I included a tender love story featuring you and Jeff Hardy running off to North Carolina for a taste of forbidden love."
Vince silently rose an eyebrow and lowered his eyes back to the fic.
****
The following night at a SmackDown Taping, the two Stooges sat, paging through Internet directories, desperate to find a batch of writers willing to untangle a backstage mess.
"Why did the bookers have to quit?!" Jerry burbled, "Now we're stuck with half-booked matches!"
"I know..Hmmm..Writers 4 Hire...No Job 2 Big R Small."
"R Small?"
"Literally, R Small."
Jerry wrung his hands, "If they can't spell, they can't write."
"You never let it stop you! And we're desperate!", Pat sighed, "I need a V-8; pick one while I'm gone!" he ordered.
Jerry stared at the various URLS as they danced across the search screen. There were far too many; a hundred strong, he was sure. All of it made him dizzy, so he just shut his eyes, selected a site, and typed a begging message to the group's fax machine.
Jerry sat back in his seat, overcome with the feeling that this was about to become a long night.
***
Precisely Twelve minutes after Pat sent a fax to the number specified at the writer's website, a ringing commotion made itself known near the talent area. A crowd had already formed around seccurity.
"I don't care what you have to say! My name's Mary Sue Hardy-Copeland, and I was called here by.." A pair of stunningly blank blue eyes fastened on Patt's distant form, "Mr. Patterson!! Mr. Patterson! I'm here from the Association of Mary Sues. You hired our group to write Raw?"
"Y-Yes," Pat felt oddly intimidated by the impressive woman, "Let them go, Jimmy..They're.."
"The new Head Writer, Mrs. Mary Sue McMahon-Hardy-Copeland, and associates." She announced, "Where are we to be set up?"
Pat gestured feebly to his left, into an empty conference room. Mary Sue curtly bobbed her head, carrying a lap top against her chest. Jerry counted at least twenty Mary Sues as they streamed by him. Most of them were dazzlingly beautiful, in a stereotypical Barbie Doll way; others inhabited more realistic body types. Some were little Goths, and others were prim and proper types. They ranged in age, but tended to be young. Each woman took a seat and opened up their powerbooks. Instantly, they began to type away.
Jerry smiled tremulously. Maybe, just maybe, this would work out.
An hour passed. Then another. Vince came by and peeked into the conference room.
"Why are they all dressed alike?" Vince asked, "And why the conservative buns?"
Pat shrugged, "Corporate statement?" He wondered aloud.
Mary Sue C.R. emerged, holding a thick script in her hand, "Got it!" She smiled.
Patt grabbed the coppies and ran to distribute them among the talent.
***
IN THE COPELAND/RESSO LOCKER ROOM:
Adam Copeland shook his head, "The hell?!" He wondered out loud, scratching at his blond mane.
Jason Resso staggered out of the showers, his own script opened, seeming equally shocked, "You got tonight's script."
"Did I have a wife last week?!" Adam wondered.
"No..did I have a fiancé?" Jason asked.
"Yeah, but not on TV." Adam slapped his script onto the bench before him, "This is insanity!"
"Ooohhh Aaaadam!"
He facefaulted as a stunning redhead, a curvy blond AND a plump redhead. The girls surrounded him and began to pat his frame. He grinned cockily at Jay.
"Which one of you girls is my wife?" He asked.
The blond laughed, "We're all your wives!"
"Uh..that's not legal, dude," Jason remarked, "Not even with the Mormons."
Adam glanced from one girl to another, "But..how.."
"Oh, we had an argument in the Writer's Room; we all wanted to be your wives. It turned into a flame war; Mary Sue mailed me a virus, and Mary Sue called me a two dollar skank during a chat...Then Mary Sue, our leader, told us that there was an easy way to end the argument; we'll share you! I'm Mary Sue, and I'll be kidnapped by Vince McMahon next Monday." The Brunette said.
"And I'm Mary Sue and I'll become pregnant with your child, only to tragically miscarry when the RTC throws me off of the stage." The redhead announced.
"I'm Mary Sue, but I'm different from them," She smiled at Jason, "hey Bro!"
"Bro...Bro?!" Jason cried out, "But I'm an only child!"
"No you're not! I'm your sister; we were separated at birth by your evil stepfather, who's going to kidnap and rape me Next Thursday." The Blond Smiled.
Jason shuddered, walking away from the empty-eyed woman. "I'm..going to go find Vince..." He said, bolting.
"Mmm..And if you're pregnant..that means we get to do it, right?!" Adam asked.
"Explicitly. In a bathtub." The Redheaded Mary Sue Announced.
Adam grinned, "Mary Sues SO rule!"
****
IN THE HARDY BOYZ LOCKER ROOM:
"What's a Mary Sue?" Matt asked Amy.
"Mary Sue..." She thought for a long moment, "Codeword for a self-inserted or self-created character in fanfic. Kinda reviled." He smirked at her. "Don't get smart with me, I read X-Men Fanfic."
Matt snorted in derision. "Mary Sues..."
A chattering mass of women grew closer to the two of them, closer still. Matt stared in stunned silence at their artificially coifed hair. He recognized an odd rainbow head among them,
"Jeff..what the?"
"Help mee!" He cried out.
"What the..." Amy gawked.
"He's being kidnapped! Kidnapped by Mary Sues!" Matt stated in disbelief.
He tried to run off in the opposite direction, only to come face-to-face with a tall, imposing woman.
"My Matt!" She cried out, "My darling!" Then she glared at Amy, "Harlot!"
"What the...."
"Haven't you read the script?" The Mary Sue asked, "I'm Matt's new valet. Soon to be his girlfriend, then his lover. We'll jet-ski over picturesque lakes together in slow motion."
"What about me?!" Amy snarled.
"You become unbalanced and try to rig the jet ski to explode. But it kills you instead."
"WHAT?!"
"Hey, wait a minute, Mary Sue!" another, shorter Mary Sue shouted, coming from another locker room, "You can't kill Amy! She's supposed to be my best friend! I need her to support me through my moral crises!"
"What moral crises?!"
"Chris' failed suicide attempt." Matt stared over the Mary Sue's shoulder. In room she had emerged from, Chris had tied a noose around his neck. He kept throwing the other end of the noose's rope over a pipe, but kept missing.
"What's he doing?"
"Trying to practice."
"Back to the matter at hand; it's not fair, I need Amy!"
"Well, I need Amy..dead!!"
Matt and Amy took this opportunity to flee their coifed attendents.
*****
IN TRISH AND TERRI'S DRESSING ROOM:
"It's not fair!" Trish cried out, "Why do I have to be the vixen?! Why can't I ever get to play a nice girl who has deep-dish cleavage?!"
"Nice girls don't HAVE deep dish clevage," Terri said, "According to this, I have an eating disorder."
"How was that sandwich you polished off?"
"SKIMPY."
"Well, I'm not going to sit for this. I'm not going to kneel for it, and I'm sure as hell not going to bend over for it!"
The two women rose together, "Let's find Vince!"
****
IN THE UNDERTAKER'S DRESSING ROOM:
"I'm telling you, I can't sleep with you!"
"Why not?!"
"I told you, I'm married!"
"That doesn't matter! You're meant for me! I'm your biker bitch! I can drink you under the table, ride a phatter hog, and..."
"That doesn't change the fact that I'm married."
"Yes. To me. And my Classic Kawasaki."
"Did you say Kawasaki?"
**********
Shane McMahon rocked back and forth on his haunches in the arena's boiler room, chewing at his thumbnails, "Can't sleep, Mary Sues are gonna get me...Can't sleep, Mary Sues are gonna get me..." A hand reached out of the coffee-colored darkness, causing him to scream.
A furious Matt Hardy towered over him, "McMahon, where did those girls come from and why have they abducted my brother?"
"Abducted Jeff?!" he gaped, "The Mary Sues got em?!"
"Yes, and it's your fault! You're the damned book!" He seized Shane by the collar and shook him.
"Matt, I had nothing to do with it, I swear! Pat and Jerry hired them."
Matt let go of Shane's collar with a frustrated growl, "Well, we need to do something!"
"But what could defeat the horrors of a Mary Sue? What?!"
"I've got it! Slash!"
Both men stared at Amy as if she had finally lost her mind.
Amy tilted her chin, "Think about it. A Mary Sue is a character that is created solely to be with a wrestler. If we appear to be romantically involved with each other, and especially members of the same sex, they should be driven away!"
The guys shrugged. It was better than being head-written by a bunch of meddling Mary Sues, in any case.
"Help! Help me!" Jeff Hardy shouted, his voice echoing tinnily though the pipes."
"It's Jeff; let's go!"
****
Jason bumped into Matt, Amy and Shane on the stairwell. Together, they managed to pinpoint where the screams were coming from. Battering down the room to Vince MCMahon's executive sweet, the four were beyond stunned at what they were witness to.
Mary Sues everywhere! Crawling out of the walls and all over their favorite wrestlers. A screaming Triple H ran away from a Mary Sue in a wedding dress; Stephanie McMahon was being chased by a rolling-pin baring Mary Sue. Various members of the RTC were being followed by Mary Sues bearing Straight jackets, and a few were draped over tables, trying to beguile the Dudleys.
"We have to stop this madness!" Shane cried, and charged through the staggering mass of Mary Sues "Ladies! Listen to me."
The women stoped and gathered around him, "Your wild zealotqeutery has only served to damage your position as writers for this program! You simply cannot over run our program with your own ambitions!"
"Blasphemer!"
"take Him!"
"Why do we need him when we have the Rainbow-hared one?"
Matt gasped as he saw his brother, who bore the same dazed expression as the Mary Sues. "Jeff!" Matt called.
"Matty..join us..it's...bliiiiisssss" He murmured.
"Don't listen to them, Jeff! Don't settle for a dramatic, five hanky life! Go to us! Come to the land of the ordinary with me!"
"But it's so niicee....And I don't mind swallowing pills and being all dramatic, and being stupid and stuff..."
"Shane! Do something!"
Shane was covered in Mary Sues, all of them wearing wedding gowns, "Help me, you dolt!" He yelled to Matt.
Matt grabbed the nearest Mary Sue he could pick up and pitched her against a nearby "sister".. The two women toppled over, but picked themselves up quickly, not a single hair out of place.
The Scared Four climbed up onto the desk, watching their friend's struggled helplessly. "There's only one out, Matt," Amy said, "Kiss Shane!"
"You will be homogenized," The Mary Sues Chanted, "You Will be Homogenized!"
Matt swallowed hard. Shane awkwardly puckered his lips. They mashed their mouths together, feeling foolish..those feelings were swept away by desire.
The nearest row of Mary Sues shrieked, clutching their faces, "Noooo! You're MIIINE!" They cried. Then, they began to melt, and melt, until finally they were nothing but a pile of sugary goo on the floor.
"That's it!" Shane cried, "everyone, kiss the closest person to you that is of the same sex!"
The request was a horror to some of the room's occupant. They all mashed mouths with abandon, causing the Mary Sues to subsequently shriek and melt. One by one, they were transformed to pink puddles of goo.
"Jeff!" Matt Cried, fearing that his brother had been lost. Just when it seemed the youngest Hardy had drowned in a sea of pink goo, the youngest Hardy surfaced, gasping for air.
Matt pulled him out of the gooey pile. "Mmm..it tastes like burt sugar!" He uttered.
The wrestlers stood awkwardly in Vince's office, not knowing exactly what had saved them, but knowing it was some sort of mercy.
Vince burst into the office moments later. He looked around the room at the piles of goo. "What the hell happened here, Shane?!" He asked, exasperated.
"Things got a little messy, pop."
"I smell burnt sugar," The elder McMahon commented. "Where's this script that these women were working on?"
"Jerry and Pat have them."
The nervous twosome scrambled into the room at the sound of their own name, "Here you go, Mr. McMahon."
Vince grinned, picking up the pages. His grin slowly faded as he read the script, and the lines creasing his forehead deepened. "What is this drivel!? Romance?! Love?! Dogs?! I told you to get the WWFSML, dammit!" He tossed the script back at Patterson, "Have this rewritten immediately!" The two Stooges left as they had came, frantic.
Vince glared up at his gawking employees, "And what are you staring at?! We have a show to produce...Get back to work!"
The wrestlers scrambled, whispering their own amazement at their encounter with the Mary Sues.
"I'm glad we won't have to go through that again." Shane remarked.
"But we'll never be free," Amy said, "As long as there's an obsessed ninny...as long as there are people with imperfect ideas of the way the wrestling world is run writing fanfic...as long as the Internet may ever exist, we will face the threat of the Mary Sues."
"What can we do?!" Christian cried.
"If this experience has taught us anything, Jay, it's that we can depend on the power of slash."
"You think?"
"Yeah; that or our author shouldn't write on four hours of sleep."