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The Princess(.)
11-04-2016, 11:58 AM
Post: #1

Floating as we do, we specters detached from fleshly attributes, we glare upon the world and all of its characteristics and we ponder, and we scheme, and we grow either content with the mediocrities of self, or we grow thirsty and lust for the powers of the knowledge of self. Somewhere along the path to self-sufficiency and solidarity, I myself evolved into something unfathomable; my Machiavellian conquest had been well at hand before I had even the slightest inclination of the existence of this new specter thriving from inside.

How could this be? When was it that my old aspirations fell idle allowing this callous beast to prosper from my being?

I’ve grown restless while racking my brain for the answers, but it’s all been for naught. I’ve also invoked the philosophy of astute thinkers from bygone eras, but only found things of the trite nature.


On a log nearside a crackling campfire in a dark wooded area, we see young Dolly Waters closing a copy of "The Prince" by: Niccolò Machiavelli before tossing it into the flames

“What’s the use in any of this?”

It’s easy to derive this “The dude abides” type of apathy from such a convoluted quandary of self-acknowledgement, even for me being the known relentless type. I dig, and I dig, and I claw, and I scratch, and I sling the proverbial shit against the wall until I continually arrive at these standard clichés of change being inevitable, but something about that just didn’t seem fitting.

Just days ago, I was having a full-fledged panic attack in the back seat of a limousine, on my way to meet with the future President of the United States, clutching onto a prestigious championship belt while having a higher amount of money in my bank account then I could even count. The Machiavellian natured folk don’t find themselves torn by those sorts of circumstances, do they? Not according to Niccolò…


“Maybe I’m just trying too hard to convince myself that I'm special…”

But wait a minute, I am just that. I am by every definition of the word, extraordinary; a prodigy of sorts. So why in the hell am I finding it so hard to accept the possible fact that I am still the same Dolly Waters for whom I’ve recently began to long for again, but that I’ve only evolved?

I was a child born and raised into poverty, and sure, the cute, frilly and fun were what struck me while young, but there was always something abnormal about me. This gnawing perception that I possessed that came with both a view of compassion for the needful, and a bitter disdain for the weak. It was like being born of Mother Teresa and Adolph Hitler, the whole age old angel and demon perching on either shoulder; only instead of bickering back and forth the two would intertwine between my ears leaving a goddamn kid to balance out the fabric morality of good versus evil. Was this the definition of Janus-faced?


“Maybe that’s more normal then I realize.”

Or am I now trying to justify everything else that has brought me to my current state? After being abandoned by my father at the age of eleven, I set out into the world, alone, on a quest to not fall into the obscurities of life; Machiavellian instance number two perhaps? My goal was straight forward: become the greatest professional wrestler who ever lived, no matter what it took… again, another indicator. Then while on this quest I murdered a grown man by the name of Sawyier McGahee, at least that’s what he claimed his name was, the act may have been in self-defense but I didn’t notify the authorities and continued on my journey to seek out an insane, devil worshiping mutilator of men who collected penis trophies from his victims. Even more disturbing is that I had hit it off with said penis collector from the time we had first met, which was about four months prior to me slaying Sawyier.

Sure this man was of relevant championship pedigree, but it wasn’t just that knowledge that I was seeking; I wanted to learn of his insensitive violence and thirst for destruction that would hopefully give me an edge against my competition… indeed Machiavellian.


“So why the fear? Why the emotional pull toward a version of myself that clearly no longer exists?”

It’s a valid question, and maybe the entire underlying theme in all of this. I am a beast; I am an unrelenting force of nature that will stop at nothing to conquer not just the XWF, but the entire wrestling world. The thought of hand to hand combat makes my mouth water… my lust is to see another person be lessened by my force. I think about my opponent this week, Barney ‘fat fuck’ Green, and fantasize about ripping his gizzard out with my teeth and making a mockery of his existence in front of the entire world. But there’s also an eternal call back to a time in my past innocence. Perhaps a call to a certain, specific event where the space time continuum became altered…

“Why am I so fucking emotional!?!”

Down on her knees, in front of the raging flames of the campfire Dolly screams out into the nothingness of night, her breath fogging in the cold air as tears stream from her eyes. Her hyperventilating begins to slow; the growling lessens and a sick smile stretches across her face.

I just want to hurt people and take my rightful place atop the throne of the XWF… and so in keeping with “to thy own self be true”, I’m going to tune out all of the other annoyances. Hardnosed, head down, fists up and blood at my feet…

“I am a monster…









and I like it...








Hello again Barney,

I've been sitting back, waiting ever patiently for you to open your fat, disgusting mouth again, what’s the matter? Still trying to catch your breath while sucking on your oxygen tank? Let me go ahead and get down to the skinny of this, big boy, I’m going to hurt you, you say you like violence? You enjoy pain? Well that’s a just perfect, because that’s exactly what you’re going to feel. On the surface, sure, you’re merely stepping into the ring with a thirteen year old girl who stature wise is out of her league every day of her life, but behind the makeup, pink wrestling trunks and perfect glowing smile, is the most vicious, most violently ruthless challenge you've ever faced... and I'm sugar coating it for you baby doll.

Do you truly believe that I give the goodest goddamn that your mentor and uncle contracted your AIDS and died? Boo hoo bitch! You have got to be the most retarded motherfucker walking this planet, and every time you talk it makes me feel like I’ve intentionally overdosed on cough syrup. How pleasant it would be if someone took a razor blade to your tongue, cut the that herpes infested pink slug looking thing out so that no one would ever have to hear your sad attempts of completing a rational thought again... hell then maybe you could use it to tongue your own asshole for a change, because this subtle love affair you have with Gilly is starting to get old.

Do you even have the slightest idea just how the stars have aligned to shit all over you this week? You could have been facing off against McShitStain on Wednesday, and possibly, JUST POSSIBLY, you could have won that match and taken the Hart Title back home to the Hospice and show it off to the rest of your terminally dumbfounded roommates... Whelp sorry to shit in your bowl of pork rinds fatso, because instead now you'll be handed the beating of the century compliments of Dolly fuckin' Waters.

I've been here just over a month and you can say whatever you want, but you can hold a fucking propane torch to me in accomplishments, let alone ability. How long have you been aimlessly wondering your fatass around these locker rooms? Three? Four years? And just what substantive accomplishments have you achieved asides from being the first openly gay XWF wrestler with a green, chlamydia infested cock?


Barney the Queen Said:I am a former XWF World Champion

Not only do I have no fucking clue what the XWF World Championship is, or was, or wasn't, but I don't really give a fuck either. If by some chance you ever did capture a world title, it must have been in a hotdog eating contest or the most abundantly terrible wrestling league of all time. But back over here, in reality, you are a former XWF Superstar of the Month which is impressive, kinda', until you realize that it took you three years to accomplish something that I am sure to have under my belt as well in just over one month.

Get it through your thick skull John Candyass, I'm the gold standard of this federation... It's my coattails all of you worthless fucks are tripping over one another to grab onto, and with good reason. It's only a matter of time before the bad moon named Dolly Waters rises and eclipses the sun shining all over you pathetic fools; I'm already piece of XWF lore and I've barely begun to get my feet wet.


I'm Fatterd, I mean Flatterd Said:I respect you as a competitor

Wow... what a pussy, I thought you were evil or something. Well, how about you just fucking join the crowd then gayboi?

Mikey McBrid Said:You've earned it and you've been doing well for yourself,
Chris Chaos Said:You see Dolly, I respect you
Gator Said:I have to show you a little respect,
Trax Said:you're good
Your hero Peter Gilmour Said:I can only assume STAR OF THE MONTH will come your way. Hell, I'll admit you deserve it. You've done it all.

It's like I have a fucking kite string hanging outta' my ass as I continue to ascend toward cementing myself as the greatest XWF wrestler of all time, and all of these little boys are so desperately trying to jump on, and fight over who gets the next tug at Dolly Waters.

What have the news wires been quoting about you, aside from your deteriorating health conditions and holding records for being the fattest gay man on earth? You're such a dumb fuck... really I knew all I needed to know about you when you revealed that you'd rather hang out with a dicksucker like John Lauriniatis instead of Bob Backlund, a former world champion who's finishing move you just so happened to steal for yourself and disgraced to a point beyond repair.

OOOHH WOOK! ITZ DA GWEEN DWEAM!!!

Everytime you have somoene locked in that hold it looks like you're trying to wrestle a Twinkie from it's wrapper with your stubby, slobbery, shit stained fingers. Just give up the wrestling biz Barney, you might be able to land yourself a gig being Chris Christie's Secret Service double in a Trump administration that will never exist.

Wednesday Night I'm going to expose you as nothing more than a fat slob Cheshire Cat pussy bitch who deserves to die every single day of his miserable life.

I'M GOING TO FEAST ON YOUR FAT ASS AND GRILL YOUR BACKSIDED BLUB LIKE A PRIME CUT OF ANGUS BEEF!

I'M GOING TO ROLL YOU AROUND AND SAW YOU OPEN FROM YOUR DISGUSTING STERNUM, RIP OUT THE FLUBBER FROM YOUR STOMACH AND SPREAD IT ALL OVER ATHENS GREECE AS A SACRIFICE TO THE GODDESS ERIS!

I'M DOLLY WATERS YOU STINKY BLOB AND...







oh shit...








Dolly looks down to find her bottom region covered in blood. She covers up with her hands and blushes a bit

"Well... ummm..."

Now THIS explains a lot of the former emotional shit storm, now doesn't it?

"Fuck you Barney Green... just for this, I'm going to actually kill you now!"

The scene fades as Dolly awkwardly scurries off through the woods...

2x X-Treme Champion
1x Hart Champion
1x Television Champion
2x Federweight Champin
4x Heavy Metal Weight Champion

October 2016 Superstar Of The Month
March 2017 Superstar Of The Month

December 2016 RP Of The Month:
"What light through sonder... my perception breaks."
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