It's Still Sunday, April 30th, 2017
Flying Through The Sky Via Chewing Gum Bubble
Just Outside Of Columbus, Ohio, U.S.A

The pain...




The emptiness...




The incarcerating feeling of morass and suffering who's screams alone reverb from the barren innards of the deprived and shake their nerves into a state of full blown anxiety attack...




Dolly had never felt so alone...




Dolly had never felt so out of touch...




Dolly had...








...lost her phone.

Yes. In today's high tech, high speed world of instant information, where people's very lives, all of their information remain within arms reach and at their fingertips, the thought of someone losing their cellphone is nearly on par with someone losing a child, or a large amount of money back in normal times.

Worry not that she's floating through the air at about four hundred feet grasping to a chewing gum bubble, Dolly isn't worried. Even the fact that she could at any moment slip and fall down to her certain ghastly death seemed so minimal. Dolly's IPhone 7 with the pink Hello Kitty case protector and zebra skin printed selfie stick was gone- she may as well had already died.

Dolly glances down at the bird's eye view of the greater Columbus area, while carelessly hanging onto the bubble with one arm- the hand of her other arm lifted up to her mouth while she nonchalantly chews on her finger nails, spitting out tiny fragments of her nails while gnawing them down to an symmetric size.

She was ready to just float out here forever, fuck life, fuck the XWF, fuck who ever that no-name-newb was she was supposed to be fighting. She was ready to float all the way toward the burning sun and be turned to ashes that linger through the endlessness of space forever.

SUDDENLY!

A flock of pissed off birds fly right through the bubble holding Dolly up in the air. The bubble gum explodes and now Dolly is careening down from the sky.


"FUUUUUUCK! OH MY GOD! I DOUGH-WANNA DIIIIIIE!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Interesting how the perspective can change so quickly.

Dolly pisses herself in her Land Before Time pajamas as speeds down toward the ground, her knees tucked in and hands together while she prays allowed to a god she doesn't believe in:

"Dear God I know I been a real piece of shit all my life but if you could just fer'gimmie fer'-"

Perspective.


Unbeknownst to Dolly, she lands in a cannonball position inside a pool of a private residence in suburbia Columbus. The pool is deep enough that luckily the water slows her down as her head smashes into the plastic lined flooring and only splits, rather than cracks her head open.

Bloodied and probably concussed, Dolly floats to the top, her pajamas ripped from her body and floating in the water. Everything is fuzzy but as she emerges naked from the water, blood pouring down her face she can hear the screams of small children as they dart back into their homes.

"What in the hell is goin on-oh dear god!"

The middle aged man we assume to be the children's father shouts out,

"HONEY! CALL THE POLICE! ANOTHER ONE OF THESE DAMN WHIPPET JUNKIES IS OVERDOSING IN OUR POOL!"

"No! Wait! Please!"

Dolly walks near the man who tightens up, clutching his wallet near his flabby breast,

"You've gotta' hear me out: I was floating through the sky on a giant chewing gum bubble cutting a wrestling promo from my IPhone's selfie stick and-"

"HONEY! HURRY! IT'S NOT WHIPPETS! I THINK SHE'S ON ACID! SHE LOOKS HUNGRY TOO!"

Suddenly a woman dressed in a night gown bursts out of the house with a broom and shrieks as she begins rubbing Dolly in the face with the dirty broom bristles. Dolly just stands there for a moment as the chip crumbs and cobwebs from the broom start sticking to the blood on her face.

"Sir..."

She says to the man,

"Tell her to stop..."

He does nothing but cower even more,

"SIR! TELL HER TO-"

The woman only shrieks louder and rubs the bristles in Dolly's face more violently then before. Dolly grabs the end of the broom and jerks the woman toward her and then spearing her down to the ground, wrapping her legs around her and locking in a rear, literally naked, chokehold.

The woman grabs at Dolly's arm while softly crying out in between gasps for air. Dolly holds one arm out toward the man,

"Gimmie yer' phone mother fucker or I'll break her fucking neck!"

The man rushes and grabs the cordless phone from inside the house and nervously hands it over to Dolly who jerks back on the squirmy woman's neck a little harder. She dials the first person who comes to mind...

###-###-DUKE

riiiing....
riiiing....
riiiing....

Luckily the have long distance,

riiiing....
riiiing....
riiiing....

crshes

"We're sorry the voice mailbox belonging to-"

"ASSHOLE!"

Dolly wondered if maybe Thad was pissed at her, the two have barely spoken since the conclusion of Lethal Lottery. Dolly was upset and flew back home to Kentucky rather than returning to Duke's compound and preparing for her upcoming tag match at Savage- which we all know now, is the Savage where Mike Graves revealed his pederasty to the entire world.

Dolly tries racking her mind for someone else to call, and suddenly it hits her. She quickly dials a number and holds the phone up to her ear.

"C'mon... c'mon! Pick up you rat tail having jew motherfu-"

"Heyman."

"-ck-PAUL!"

"Who is this?"

"Heyman, it's Dolly. I'm in a bad fucking way and need your help."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down. Dolly needs my help? As in the Dolly Waters who laid my ass out in the ring the last time I saw her? Eh, wrong. I'm real busy, so I've gotta go-"

"Wait! Paul! Please! C'mon man, all those months you were my manager, all the money I helped you rake in, brought you back to relevance, helped you vy for your new position with the company- did I ever ask you for anything out of the way?"

"Well there was-"

"Paul, do you really think I would be calling you unless I had no other options?"

There's a silence on the other line...

"Where are you, Dolly?"

"I think I'm in Columbus. I'm butt-naked and holding a woman in a chokehold right now."

The woman can be heard sputtering out pleas for help...

"What do you mean you're in Columbus?!?"

Funny that Heyman didn't find the other two facts that shocking...

"Savage isn't for another week, genius! You should already be in Atlantic City preparing for your tag match at Warfare!

"FUCK!"

Dolly had already forgotten that her and Duke were scheduled to compete against Tidbits and The Basic Bitch Doctor- easy to see why Duke and Dolly's friendship may be just a tad fractured.

"Listen, uh... hold on!"

Dolly can hear Heyman rustling through some papers or something...

"Let whatever poor family you have held hostage up there go, and get me an address. I'll send for an Uber to the airport and get you a flight booked. The company can't afford to have you missing out on Warfare. There will be some pissed off ticket holders."

---

---

Monday, May 1st, 2017
John Glenn Columbus International Airport
Columbus, Ohio, U.S.A

We see Dolly sitting alone inside of the airport still in her soaked Land Before Time pajamas, bandage on her bloodied forehead, an apoplectic look about her face. She wasn't going to be able to catch the next flight to Atlantic City until sometime in the early A.M. on Tuesday.

To nobodies surprise, an XWF camera crew had been following her this entire time- god these guys are good. Dolly only just notices their presence and decides to speak a final few choices words on her Saturday Savage opponent, Super Mario:

"Hey, Mario. Fuck you clown."

Riveting.

"I heard the promo you cut on me today. They aired it on the airport televisions. You had a lot of folks laughing. Not at your jokes or anything. They were just laughing at you in general. Laughing I guess because you seem to be so serious about this delusion that you're going to be able to do something only one person have ever done, and that's pin me in singles competition.

What a joke.

Mario I want you to take a long hard look in the mirror and with serious intent, ask yourself just exactly what it is you're doing. All you've been doing is groaning on and on about how I'm overconfident, overlooking you, overly complacent. Then you said all three of those things again. Then you said it again for good measure as if to beat it in my head like you've just picked up your hammer in Donkey Kong and can't quit doing the same shit over and over again.

But see, Dolly Waters is like a fully loaded semi-automatic assault rifle taking aim right at your goddamn skull and the head of your hammer has fallen off, now your ass is charging at me with a stick's worth of petty, nonsensical ramblings like any of your mushroom-high induced mumbo-jumbo means a fucking thing.

Let's take for instance you claiming that this was a David v. Goliath match up, which is maybe true in figurative terms- but then you started talking about your size and such, you being a little dude. UM HELLO? Earth to wop-slop eating piggy plumber! You're five inches taller than me and damn near triple me in weight you fat piece of shit. All that bitching and crying about ME being complacent, yet you're the one obviously not doing your homework.

Quit choking on Luigi's cock for a second you worthless loss taking rookie and realize just what in the fuck you're dealing with- because it obviously hasn't quite sunk in yet. Thinking I'm emulating The Bride of Chucky? How? Do I look like Jenn Tilly in doll form, dumbass? Am I running around with a plot to blather a magic chant above some unconscious teens to transfer into their bodies with my murderous doll husband? Eh, not quite. But you REALLY are running around named "Super Mario", traveling via sewer system, shooting fireballs and following your lanky friend around, grasping onto his greening gonorrhea dick. So nah, I'm not the pot calling the kettle much of anything- I'm the cunt calling the pussy fucked.

And you are fucked...

Pussy.

FUCKED for ever DARING to step inside of my private residence in hopes that I'm into some kinky girl-on-bulbous blob action

FUCKED for ever thinking you'd be anything more than just a giant piece of jobbing shit.

FUCKED for dreaming that you were ready to square up with the reigning Star of the Month and somehow pull of the upset of the century.

FUCKED since '85, fucked since jump.

Mario, let me explain something to you, and follow closely now- try not getting to confused: the best thing your floppy fupa having ass can possible do when you see Dolly Waters, the fucking Phenom, barreling toward you this Saturday is to run. Run for your miserable fucking life and hope and pray to god that you really are Super Mario and that your ass can warp during the credits of what will be one of the most savage, most inhumane beatings ever dished out from one person to the other.

You've wasted all of this time pleading your case, trying to endear the hearts and the minds of the few mentally-ill fans you might have into believing this sad little fiction that you're going to be able to knock me off- yet you've expressed no feasible way of how you plan to pull it off.

You're too slow and fat to keep up with my speed Mario. You're finishing move is a diving move. We're going to be in a street fight, so do you think I'm really going to give you the ample time to struggle your fatass ontop of something high enough to pull off a move that for you makes physically no sense anyway? A diving double foot stomp from a five foot five, damn near three hundred pound morbidly obese man? You'll roll your fucking ankle and cry like a little bitch, Tubthumpin'.

♪♫♬HE GET'S KNOCKED DOWN! DOESN'T GET UP AGAIN! HE'S ALWAYS GUNNA' BE A CLOWN!♪♫♬

dumb fuck Said:I’m going to bring my best and my best is going to overpower yours miracles will happen that do happen and you will be sorry you ever made fun of SUPER MARIO

See? What in the fuck does that even mean? You have no game plan, whore. You're only hoping and praying that Dolly Waters is complacent, and so fucking bored to death at the prospect of facing off against such an inferior opponent that I take a nap on the side walk before we even face off. But your line of thinking is flawed fat boy. Because one doesn't garner a list of achievements such as mine by being lazy, or complacent or by lacking determination. On the contrary, lard ass. You make Dolly Waters sized waves by being the hungriest shark in the waters filled with bigger sharks with full bellies- and that's exactly what I've done.

You the greatest challenge of my career?

Greater than Chris Chaos?
Doctor Louis D'Ville?
Unknown Soldier?
Trax?
Jim Caedus?
Peter Gilmour?

I'll just stop there. For crying out loud, Barney Green will have proved to have been an even greater challenge than you. I may not be the greatest competitor to ever grace the halls of the XWF, but I've always been one of the boldest, and that's something you'll NEVER take away from me, asswipe.

After Wednesday Warfare I'll be back in Columbus, and any other atrocious broken-record sounding promo you cut between now and then I won't even bother listening to it- what's the point? Your fate is sealed. You thought you could really stand before the likes of Dolly Waters and make a name for yourself- but you've only dug your own grave. Because in the end all you ever were was a bounce back win for The Phenom.

3x XTreme Champion
2x Tag Team Champion (w/ Vita Valenteen, w/ Charlie Nickles)
2x Hart Champion
2x Television Champion

3x Star Of The Month
August ‘21, May ‘17, October ‘16

3x RP Of The Month
What light through sonder... my perception breaks.
Tranquility: For Old Times Sake
Manifest Victory

my loves:
[spoiler]