Disclaimer: I own nothing that is own by someone else. I do own stuff that I own thought. Oh yeah, and I'm not getting paid for this.

A/N: Don't worry, I'm still working on Darkness and Power this is jut a palate cleaner, cause the battle chapter is really giving me a work out. (You'd think an avid comic book fan of close to 50 years would know how to write a super-powered-battle scene. LOL) Well anyway, hopefully this will do the trick as I started writing this this morning after a little pm session with Team Novak. Basically we were talking about Stephanie parings based on Vermilliion's Dawn of the Dead story Arch. She hates Steph/Taker, but loves the idea of Steph/Randy -ewww LOL Well in the conversation we both agree, we hate Steph/Hunter. ;) And we can't wait till Vermi kills him off in her Nosferatu story she is posting up today. Well me being me, I kind said it would be cool if someone started a story, that was nothing but different ways of killing Hunter.

And the rest is history. LOL I could not get the idea out of my head, so I sat down and this is what I have. This is the first of many that I will post up as new ways of murdering him come to mind. Also, if there is anyone out there with ideas of imaginative ways of offing the big nosed jerk, just drop me a line I will see what i can do, and if you want to write your own and have me post it in here, that's cool too. The more ways of killing him the better. ;)

Anyway, enough talk, on with the killing. Oh and I got to get back to the fight. LOL

Pual Levesque. Known far and wide to the world as Triple H, wrestler, husband, father and future head of World Wrestling Entertainment. Or so he hoped. After all, before he could lay hands on the biggest company in Sports Entertainment history, he had to deal with a brother-in-law, a mother-in-law oh and also a wife. That is a lot of people in line for the job he had coveted since the day he first walked in the doors of the, then, World Wrestling Federation. But, blood family ties aside, Vince did have a soft spot for him. He might not pass over his Shane for Paul, but he might be more then willing to hand the reigns to him, when he was ready to step down, over that of Linda or Stephanie. So his only obstacle is one Shane McMahon. Something would have to be done about that. Shame, he liked the man, but alls fair in love and business.

Now all he had to do was figure out a way to eliminate Shan-o-Mac, from the world of the living, without it pointing to him.

"Ok accident, it has to be an accident and it has to be believable"

Paul was driving down a highway. He had to make the next show and decided, since the new venue was near to the last, he would drive alone, allow himself some time to think clearly about how he was going to rid himself of his unintentional rival. Took him a bit to convince his wife not to accompany him on the drive, but finally she agreed she had to much to do with scripting the shows to risk a blown tire or the car braking down, preventing her to be at the show to oversee things. It was kind of funny, as Shane championed him in this, not realizing he was helping to facilitate Paul's planning that would end Shane's own demise.


2 hours into the drive and Paul had yet to come up with a good idea for offing his in-law. Tiring of the drive and the fruitless planning also noticing his gas gage was getting low, even though he thought he had gotten the car filled up before he left. Fortunately he spied a sign for a rest stop that served food and would gas up his car, so he decided to take the break, grab a bite and gas up at the same time. The stop was another 3 miles down so Paul was more then ready to pull off by time he reached the exit. The rest stop turned out to be nothing more then a local gas station with a small diner next to it. Paul shrugged not really caring as long as he got some food and gas and could get back on the road in a good amount of time.

"Filler up, premium"

He flipped the keys to the grease monkey that step up to his car. The man reminded him of Mark, back when he cut his hair and was going by the American Baddass persona. He smirked a bit as remembers it was his whispers in both Mark's and Vince's ears that convinced the two of them to have the Undertaker be more human and less "demonic", said it would help the evolution of the character and keep it fresh. And the two fools believed him; even when he suggested Mark go heel. It helped to lower Mark's exposure and allowed him to become the "baby face" of the company there. Sighing he remember, fondly, his time as the top star of the show; with the help of his dotting new wife.


The station attendant turned to look at him, causing him to realize he had said that out loud. He just gave the guy the eye and headed over to the diner. He really needed to stop saying that out loud. Mike caught him a few times spouting less then faltering things about his wife when he thought he was alone. Honestly at times he could not help it. She was so annoying at times. Not to mention she had yet to drop a boy for him.

"I mean how fucking hard is it to have a fucking boy?"

Damn there he goes again. But how can he help it. After all he married her solely to get into the family and maybe, just maybe, gain some real power in the industry, especially if he could get Steph pregnant and with a son before Shane did. He figured his odds were good, after all Shane had been married to that cow Marissa for years and no kids to speak of, he figured the young heir was shooting blanks. How hard was it to get Stephanie knocked up? He snorted when he thought of how long it took for her to just squeeze out a girl. Then she had to follow that up with another useless girl. Vince doesn't give a fuck about girls. He wanted a grandson, not a fucking granddaughter. And of course Shane's first kid would be a son. Oh yeah, Vince was so proud of that, showcased him on Wrestlemaina and everything. What does Paul's kid get? Made part of some dumb hair joke between Vince and Trump.

"There's no fucking justice"

Taking a seat he puts in his order with the plump middle-aged woman with the hair net who hands him a menu. Glancing around he was ready to debate on eating anything here that was not prepackaged, but decided to take the chance the germs he feared lived here year round would get cooked out before arriving on his plate. 15 minutes later his over-cooked burger and near burnt fries arrived, along with his flat coke. Could this day get anymore annoying? He takes the time to drive so he could plan the murder…accident…of his brother-in-law, and so far he still at square one, eating food that tastes like it was made last year, sitting in a booth he is sure has not seen the clean side of sponge since it left the factory while a woman, old enough to be his mother after she was dead a few decades, gives him the 'come-hither' look. Between the food the drink and the woman Paul finds his stomach churning to beat the band and springs out of the booth and makes a beeline for the bathroom. Where he promptly deposits the undigested burger, fries, soda and whatever he has had in the last 24 hours, into the toilet, where it happily mingles with the unflushed urine and feces. The new mixture and smells help him to make sure there is nothing left in his stomach before he is able to stumble out of the restroom and out the diner door.

"I got to get out of here"

This was the worst idea in the history of worse ideas. Maybe this is god telling him, plotting the death of another human being is a big no-no. he gets back to his car, reaching into the glove box to grab a tissue and wipe his mouth before turning to the attendant who is watching him with a smirk.


He's now pissed that this pissant has the nerve to look at him like he was some kind of joke or something. This grease monkey was the joke. Paul made more money in a second then this guy made in 20 years. Even if he did not run the company, yet, he still made more money then even Hogan ever made in the industry. He was rich he was powerful and when he figured out how to rid himself of Shane he would rule it all. Yet here was this jackoff smirking at him.

"So how much a-hole"

His insult did not seem to faze the big guy as he told Paul the cost took his money and gave Paul his change. At no time did the smirk leave the man's features. This pissed Paul off even more, so much more he made a point of taking the change and slowly putting it in his pocket, an indication no tip would be forth coming. The funny thing about that is, the smirk on the man's face seemed to get wider, and morph into such an evil grin, the similarity between this jerk and Mark, seemed to be almost uncanny. Prefer to just get the hell out of there the dwell on the similarities Paul hopped into his car and peeled off, spewing gravel in his wake, laughing out loud as he looked in the review watching the moron trying to dodge the small projectiles while coughing as the dust entered his lungs.

"Serves ya right moron"

Once he was back on the road, he found he could not get the eerie resemblance that guy had to Mark. Mark, the one guy in the whole company, hell, the whole industry, he could not effect completely. The only things he could do to the guy were small things through Steph and Vince. As long as Mark was around, he had to be careful how much he pushed against the other wrestlers. Mark tolerated what he's done so far and how far he has risen, but if he even thought Paul was doing something that would truly effect wrestling detrimentally his ass would be grass.

"But once I own the place his ass is out the door"

Maybe he would arrange for two accidents. Two birds with one stone has always seemed a smart way to go to him. Everyone has always thought Mark was untouchable. Well if Paul could touch the boy wonder he sure could touch the Phenom.

The thought of Mark's demise finally cheers Paul up, and the memory of the diner is long behind him. He has been back on the road for an hour and he has a few more to go before he will reach the hotel. He yawns and turns on radio to keep his mind going, noting, with some satisfaction that the road has been him and a few semis. This allows him to increase his speed a bit more then if the road was crowed with fellow motorists. As time goes on, he finds himself on a stretch of road that is hillier, with steeper declines as well as some very sharp turns. The view, he finds off the shoulder embankments, are breath taking. Below he can see the lights of towns, as well as farmland stretching out for acres. He muses that once he has the company firmly in hand he would finally move from Stamford. He hates the place with a passion.

"What the…"

A squeaking noise breaks Paul out of his thoughts as he realizes he is, for some reason, picking up speed on the steep decline he is driving down. He goes to gently apply the breaks to slow himself down, without going into a skid, and his heart skips a beat when his foot hits pushes down, but the car shows no sign of slowing down. Even when he starts to pump wildly on the brake peddle, screaming at the top of his lunges nothing is happening and the incessant squeaking seems to build and build. Franticly he tries to calm himself down, putting all his energies in steering the car, since slowing it down is completely out of the question. This works for like 2 seconds till he starts to feel the wheel itself, fight him. It's like his power steering has gone to manual and each turn is a test of strength for him. If he was not a strong man, he would have already plowed through a guardrail and plunged down the side of the embankment, embankments that were no gentle slops but more like cliffs. Paul was breathing heavily at this point, having made 3 turns that would have ended the life of any normal person, his heart leaping into his chest when he sees the road will straighten out after the next turn, which will give him a chance to figure out how to stop the car without to much harm to himself. He sees the last turn coming up, ready to time his turn. The turn comes…he turns the wheel…at least that was the plan, except for the fact the wheel will not turn and Paul stares wide eyed as he and his car plow through the guardrail, sailing off into the air, the only thing beneath them, is air and the ground some 1200 ft below.

"Why me?"

Those are the last thoughts and words of one Paul Levesque, as he and his car, slam into a manure pile and burst into flames. Lucky for Paul he was dead on impact, so he did not have to dwell on the shitty way he died.

It's 6 months later and Vince, Stephanie, Linda and Shane are sitting in Vince's office as the local detective hands Vince the finally report of the death of Paul.

"Well according to the investigation and the coroner's report, Mr. Levesque died from the impact of his car when it crashed. As to the reason for the crash, it turned out some field mice had gotten into the under carriage of his car, and had been chewing through both the brake line and the power steering line." He nods at the incredulous looks from the civilians in front of him. "Yes, amazing, I will agree, but there is not sign of foul play here, just, sadly, a freak accident." He sets the report on Vince's desk places a consolatory hand on Stephanie's shoulder with the usually accompaniment of 'I'm sorry for your loss', then leaves having other murders and accidents to deal with.

With that behind them, Vince sets in motion the planned memorial shows in Paul's honor, having decided to wait before doing so this time out, to make sure of the nature of his passing. Stephanie assures her father she will come up with a few good script ideas that will put Paul in a very favorable light, that even those that did not like him, will be moved. Shane, excuses himself from the planning, saying he was meeting his wife at the next city their show was booked for and wanted to take a drive to clear his head at the loss of his brother-in-law. The other's said they understood as he removed himself from the room.

5 hours later Shane pulls into that self same rest stop that was the last place Paul had set foot into before doing the Thelma and Louise. Getting out of the car he walked over to the garage section seeing the same grease monkey working there as when Paul had stopped in for gas and food. The man stands, gives Shane the same smirk that was the last human visage Paul ever saw, cleared the grease from his hands, as he had been working on a beautiful black bike. He walked over to Shane taking his hand and shaking it strongly, the smirk never leaving his mouth.

"You did a good job. Not sure how you were able to train those mice to chew through wire like that, but it was brilliant."

The man chuckled bit, but said nothing, which did not disconcert Shane any, he trusted this guy, and after all he came highly recommended by someone he trusted with his life. As Shane took out the envelope and counted out the pay for the man to watch, Shane could not help but smile at how easy it was to get rid of Paul.

The plan was a bit involved but simple in execution. All he had to do was convince Paul to do one of his solo drives on that stretch of highway, that this rest stop was part of, siphon our most of his gas so he would run out, roughly, where he wanted him to, then once he stopped in here, let this guy do the rest. It was a relief when Paul had decided to make the drive all on his own, thereby removing any direct involvement Shane would have had in convincing Paul to make the drive. All he really had to do was convince his sister not to go with him. That took some effort, but in the long run, it worked. Now Paul was gone, removing any threat to his son taking over the company when his father stepped down and preserving the family business in the family. All in all, very much worth the money he was paying out now.

"Thanks for your help and we never met"

With those words Shane turned about and left the garage, smiling to the large man that passed by him, this man wearing the same disturbing smirk as his friend inside. Shrugging Shane ignored it, slipping into his car and driving off. A few hours later he started to wonder where that squeaking was coming from.

Another 6 months and another detective stood in Vince's office, looking at 3 very grieved people. Vince, Linda and Stephanie barely held in their sorrow as the detective reported to them about the car accident that had killed Shane, the one where he inexplicativly slammed head on into a on coming semi. The report left all three with a sense of déjà vu, as the detective reported that somehow Shane's power steering line had been chewed through by a field mouse; the brake line was only partially chewed through when Shane had lost control and ran afoul of the big truck. When the detective left Stephanie excused herself from her parents, tears still streaming down her face. Her parents watch sadly as their last child left, seeing she was still in pain, even though it had been 12 months since they lost Paul and 6 since Shane. The figured it would be a long long time before she would be her old self again.

The person in question made her tearful way out of her family owned building getting into her car and driving off. Only she did not drive very far, just 10 miles away to a out of the way little home. She stepped from her car and walked up to the door about to knock when she heard the unmistakable sound of machinery in the back. By now her tears were gone, long since dried, but even so, the smile that graced her face as she rounded the corner would be considered, by some, to be a bit out of place, seeing she had just lost her brother, on the heels of losing her husband. So it is fair to say those same people would be very taken aback at seeing the newly widowed Mrs. Levesque wrap her arms around the neck of one Mark Calaway and planting one of the most sensual and passionate kisses on his mouth.

After a few minutes of this Mark finally pulls her away looking down into her bright brown eyes.

"So it's done"

She smiles and nods, just as two men come out of Mark's makeshift garage, wiping oil and grease off on their pants. She smiles and nods as the pass giving Mark a wink and her an open smile. No smirking this time. The two man make their way to the house as Mark picks Stephanie up and walks over to a bench sitting down with her on his lap.

"Now lil princess, I came through for you. Paul's dead and Shane's dead for plotting to kill Paul. So what is the future owner of the WWE going to do for me?"

Stephanie smiles up to the large man on whose lap she sits kissing his nose playfully. Shane made a big mistake coming to her lover to arrange the death of Paul. She might not have loved him, but he was her only ticket to keeping some power in the company. With him dead, all the real power would fall to Shane's son, when he got older. Instead of Paul, as her father had told her in private one day. Now both were gone. She was the sole living heir, till Shane's kid grew up, but that could be dealt with. All she had to do was get Marissa out of the way.

"Well I could bring back some traditions to the company. For as long as I have a say."

She smiled sweetly as she can see the look in the eyes of the large dangerous man with the very very dangerous connections. Mark's too moral to kill a kid, but his mother…now that's a different subject. He'll do what she wants. But that can wait, right now she has other needs that only a large dangerous man can see to.