10 Worst Wrestling Publicity Stunts

Unless you've been living under a rock or some other sort of geological feature these last few days (and frankly, who can blame you? Is there any more room beneath that boulder?), you'll know that, yes, Jinder Mahal is WWE champion. No, really.

Let's not get into whether this is a good thing or not; that particular record's been spun more frequently than one of those fidget-whatjamagigs which have suddenly populated pockets of those apparently too refined to unscrew and rescrew a Biro (we've all done it).

The 'why' is so much more important. Don't kid yourself for one second: the Jinder Express is nothing short than a blatant publicity stunt designed to agitate a previously untapped Indian audience. And who can argue with the sensibilities of such a scheme?

'Legacy' be damned; wrestling has rarely been shy about trading its dignity in pursuit of cheap (or in the case of one item on this list, grossly expensive) media attention. Sticking a football player in the marquee match of your major show? Why not! Using a real life war as the starting point for pretend conflict? Sure, we've seen that. How about staging your own death to sell a few tickets? On Christmas Day, no less!

The pale's boundary really has no limits for this industry.

How many television viewers can you buy for a million dollars? Not many, it turned out.

McMahon's 'Million Dollar Mania' made solid the platitude 'more money than sense'. The contest - in which McMahon promised to give away a million bucks so long as viewers could answer a secret password - wasn't a transparent ratings-grab so much as an invisible one. The chairman himself even announced its objective of 'attracting new viewers' during his introductory spiel.

The competition itself was an unmitigated albeit hilarious disaster. The money was designed to entice new viewers, but the content was sure to dissuade them from sticking around. Large, tedious segments of Raw were squandered as Vince struggled to get to grips with this new-fangled technology, the telephone, as he cold-called countless homes which either failed to pick up or responded with total bemusement. One answerphone even Rickrolled the befuddled CEO - the highlight of the whole fiasco.

Still, the expense had to be worth it right? Wrong. Raw posted its lowest ratings for seven weeks. Yes: most people preferred to skip the show than potentially earn a wad of greens. Some indictment.

But it didn't end there, as McMahon was apparently duty bound to continue the pointlessly profligate farce the next week, all to culminate in an angle in which the set fell on top of him because... well, let's leave it there.

Talk about buyer's remorse.