The WWE Assistant Writer Part 2: Debra Comes Home
My name is John, a 26-year-old former model and Hollywood writer/producer that is a new hire by World Wrestling Entertainment on their writing team. I work directly under Stephanie McMahon-Levesque, the pregnant wife of Triple H, as her writing assistant. I was hired to work for the company on December 22nd with the specific task of catering to the needs of the WWE divas. I'm the first person that the company has ever hired that has taken on the role of writing storylines for the women in the company. Like Stephanie told me after I got hired: "You work for me, but more importantly you work for those divas. They are very valuable to us and I want you to do to everything you can to please them." I believed in it.
I was headed to the December 27, 2005 Smackdown taping in Hartford, which is about 45 minutes away from company headquarters in Greenwich, Connecticut. I was a little tired from the night before when I spent the night with Trish Stratus, but I was eager to move on simply because I was genuinely excited about my new job. I met with all the writers and bookers early that day, about 2pm and we went over the show. I didn't have as much to do on Smackdown because there were only a couple of divas on the show as compared to Raw, which had several more. Just before the show was going to start, I found out what my task was for the night.
Twenty minutes earlier I was walking around backstage when I saw former WWE diva Debra McMichael-Williams, now going by her maiden name Marshall, chatting with one of our makeup ladies. Debra was in her late 30s by now, but was still gorgeous thanks to a beautiful face, massive tits, an ass that she takes really good care of and legs to die for. When I really got into wrestling as a fan in 1999 it was in part because of her since she was by far the most popular diva at that time, especially after Sable left. I didn't really say anything to her because she had no idea who I was and I was nervous as hell, but I did smile at her. She noticed that, smiled at me and winked at me too. Then I went off into the other direction.
Right around 8pm was when Steph called me to her office. Once there, I saw Debra sitting on one of the chairs looking rather despondent. I took a good look at her, staring at her crossed legs and her amazing breasts. I had a hard time believing this was actually real. But there she was in front of me, Debra Marshall. With her hair and makeup done, she looked even better in person. She had on a black/grey leather business suit, the same one she wore in an internet photo shoot that I vividly remember. There was a very short leather skirt to accentuate her legs and ass, black heels and just one button on the jacket covering her bra, which housed her world famous 36D sized breasts. I could see most of her bra and could tell that it was a combination of leather and lace with her breasts heaving out the top. She looked at me in my black suit and blue tie, then smiled at me although this time it was half-hearted. She looked depressed.
Steph brought me close to her to tell me what was going on.
"I need you to take Debra back to her hotel."
"Now?" I asked.
"Smackdown's about to start soon and I don't have anything more to say to her."
"Stephanie please," Debra pleaded. "Please reconsider."
"I told you no, Debra." Stephanie fired back. "I know you want your job back, but we're not at a stage where we're hiring past their prime non-wrestlers like you. I'm sorry."
Debra stood up, furious. "Why do you have to be so mean to me Stephanie? When I was working here before I was nothing but courteous to you and this is how you pay me back?"
"I guess I'm a bitch then," Stephanie confessed. "I'm also in charge and I'm not asking you. I'm telling you: get the hell out of my office."
"Where am I supposed to go, huh? I just flew in today, I don't have a hotel to go to, I don't know anybody here," Debra said.
"Oh right, as if you can't afford a hotel. You married two guys for money, you got half and now you act all innocent. Don't try that shit on me, it won't work," Stephanie told her.
I didn't really know what to say. I knew it wasn't my place, but I thought Steph was being way too harsh. Debra looked to be in near tears as she picked up her bag and slowly went to walk out of the room. Then I spoke up.
"Ms. Marshall wait, let me get that for you," I told her.
"Wow, somebody with respect around here. Who are you anyway? I saw you outside before and didn't recognize your face."
"He's my assistant," Stephanie said. "He works for me with regards to the divas and right now the work I need from him is to get you out of my face. Understand?"
Steph was furious and I could tell Debra was pretty pissed too. I turned to Steph.
"Where should I take her? I don't even have a car." I asked.
"You can use my limo, that's fine. Take her to the airport or some hotel. I don't care. Just go."
"What time should I be back..." I tried to ask.
"You don't have to come back here tonight. We've got everything handled okay. Just be at the office by 9am tomorrow because Melina's coming in for a photoshoot and we need you to interview her for the magazine. Don't be late!"
"Can we go already?" Debra groaned. I looked at her, then back at Steph.
"Remember, no matter what she does or what she says under no circumstances are you going to let her think she can have her job back. Alright?" Steph pleaded with me.
"Alright, I understand. See ya later." I walked over to where Debra was in the room, picked up her bag and we made our way out to the parking lot. Debra looked furious and didn't even look back at me.
We were nearly out of the building when Debra looked back at me. "What car are we looking for anyway...uh...what's your name again?"
"John," I reminded her. "And it's a limo. It's Stephanie's."
Debra smiled back at me with a big smirk on her face. It was at that point where I could really sense that Debra hated Stephanie. We made some small chit-chat on the way out to the parking lot when I told her about my background in Hollywood writing erotic films.
"Oooh, I always wanted to be in Hollywood. Closest I ever got was WWE, but this is a fucking circus. Maybe you can give me some tips, huh?"
"I'm not really involved in that stuff anymore," I told her. "But I can give you some advice."
When we got out into the parking lot it was pretty empty because it was a private lot separate from where all the wrestlers, writers and production people parked. We saw the limo, but before we walked out there Debra stopped me and turned around to face me. We were standing about ten feet from the limo when she rubbed her hands across my face.
"So tell me John, what are my chances of getting my job back?"
"It's not my decision to make but I don't think..." I tried to tell her.
"Yeah, I know my chances aren't good, but maybe you could help me."
