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X-treme Wrestling Federation BOARDS » Warfare Boards » "Wednesday Warfare" RP Board
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Latina Submission Machina Offline
El Chapo's Favorita Luchadora
TITLE - Anarchy Champion

XWF FanBase:
Men and Lesbians

(physically attractive female on every level; can seduce you; that disarming smile; those bedroom eyes)

Post: #1
01-12-2022 12:58 AM

Ay, qué bonito es volar y a las 2:00 de la mañana
Y a las 2:00 de la mañana
Y ay, qué bonito es volar, ay mamá
Volar y dejarse caer en los brazos de tu hermana
En los brazos de tu hermana
Y hasta quisiera llorar

An unmasked Robyn Gonzalez sings along to the music quietly playing off of her cracked cell phone. Wearing denim overalls and a green undershirt, Robyn sits alone in her mother’s empty house alongside hundreds of unsortable possessions. Half-filled boxes with packing labels are strewn around Robyn. Over a month has passed since her mother’s death, but Robyn had only made moderate progress in clearing out the physical remnants of her life.

Siento no haber estado allí cuando te enterraron. Te mereces una hija mejor.

Robyn wiped the tears away from her eyes before they had the chance to trickle down her face.

Pinche bastard….

Robyn pushed herself up to a standing position and took a look around her mother’s living room. She sighed as she shook her head softly. Strands of dyed hair fell over Robyn’s face as she stared down at the ground where her mother once stood.

You were always there for me in the hard times, so why wasn’t I-

Robyn closed her lips and shook her head once more. There was nothing that could be said to change the way her mother’s funeral played out. Robyn stood there silently and pondered one question over and over again:‘Who should I be angrier with: Charlie or myself?’.

Her answer to that question changed every time she asked it. Thus Robyn made up her mind to ask her tío Enrique that very question when she saw him this afternoon- but first she wanted to get at least a little more packing done.

Robyn walked over to an end table and began clearing it off. She took apart a desk lamp, unscrewing the light bulb and carefully putting all the pieces into a half-packed box with a label that reads ‘basura frágil’. LSM then opened up the drawer of the end table and began clearing it out. Some old pocket calendars went into a nearby trash can along with a long-expired pack of chewing gum.

The unmasked luchadora walks back to the table and finishes clearing it out. She pulls the last object out from the drawer before slamming the drawer shut. Robyn lifts the object up and examines it with the curiosity of a soon-to-be-dead cat.

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The lights flicker off for a mere moment as Robyn holds the occult-looking necklace in her grasp. She looks up towards the ceiling in shock.

Ay dios mio!

Robyn raises her fists into the air as if expecting a fight. The necklace swings down from her fist.

Oh look at me…..this house always did have terrible wiring!

Robyn shakes her head side to side and chuckles softly at her own instinctual response to the flickering lights. Robyn tucks the necklace into the pockets of her overalls before picking the end table up and walking it over into a corner that contains a few other cumbersome pieces of furniture. The young woman wipes some sweat from her forehead before wiping the back of her hand against her denim clothes.

The grieving daughter continues to clean out the living room for almost an hour. She clears off the mantle above the fireplace, she takes old family photographs off the wall, and she even starts hauling some mostly full boxes out to the moving truck parked outside. Robyn went to take another box outside, but stopped when she saw the first photograph sitting atop the pile of contained stuff. Robyn grabbed the photo out of the box and looked down at it with a smile of reminiscence.

It was a photo of her mother holding a little baby LSM. The mother and daughter were dressed in matching lucha regalia, green little baby mask and all. Robyn thought back to some of her sweetest memories with her mother. She remembered all the times her mother used to tuck her into bed at night and assure her that everything would be okay.

There was one lullaby in particular her mother used to sing that always stuck with Robyn. She began to sing it softly to herself as she wistfully stared into her past through the photograph.

"Oh estrella de la maravilla, estrella de la noche
Estrella con belleza real brillante
Dirigiendo hacia el oeste, aún en curso
Guíanos a tu Luz Perfecta"

The house begins to violently shake after Robyn finishes the nursery rhyme. She instantly gets into a crouched position as pieces of the ceiling begin to flake off around her. A nearby wall creaks and groans as it rotates at a 90 degree angle. The boxes and loose objects in front of the wall are pushed away as the wall flips around to reveal a secret passageway.

Robyn looks completely shell-shocked.

“Se me subió el muerto!

The grieving daughter places a hand on her denim-clad chest as she slowly approaches the rotated wall. She had never seen this side of her old family home before. Was there a side to her mother she didn’t know? Robyn neared the downward spiralling staircase that had suddenly uncovered itself. Robyn tucked the family photo in her pocket alongside the necklace as she stepped into the wall with only slight hesitation.

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“I lived here for eighteen years and I never knew there was a basement…”

The camera switches perspectives and we see Robyn slowly treading down the dark staircase. Each new step croaks like a wooden frog as her weight comes down upon it. She keeps her right hand on the surprisingly smooth wooden railing for balance as she walks. Robyn can’t help but cough a few times as untold dust bunnies dance around her.

“¿Qué demonios? Did my mother know this was down here? I’m surprised she wasn’t subletting this, it seems spacious. But where’s the light switch?”

Robyn reaches the bottom of the dark staircase and gingerly steps onto the wooden floorboards below. They too creak beneath her weight. She begins walking to where she thinks the wall might be as she searches for a light switch to flip. She runs her fingers across the wall. She grabs hold of something…..a drape? She rips it off the wall and stands back in awe as a giant mirror begins to luminate. Piles of dust are flung everywhere as Robyn lets the drape fall to the ground. A thin layer of dirt and grime coats the old glass inside the frame of the mirror. The smell of death permeates the air.

“Nuh uh, no way.”

Robyn nudges the drape against the baseboards of the wall with her foot as she shakes her head from side to side. She turns and continues walking in the mostly dark room as she continues to look for a light switch to flip. Suddenly a small drift of cold air sweeps across the back of her neck. She hears a whispering voice call out to her from the encircling darkness.

"O Star of wonder, star of night”

Robyn turns around with a fright. She raises her fists up as she calls out into the darkness.

“Who’s down here?!”

Another cold breeze runs across the back of her neck. Another whisper comes in from the darkness.

“Star with royal beauty bright”

“¡Aguas! Even without my mask I’m still a kick-ass luchadora, you better leave me alone!”

“Wait, you’re not Maria-.....what’s with the smell of your blood, amiga? Oh my oh my, are you that sweet little butterfly I’ve heard so much about?!”

“¡Pinche mierda!”

Robyn lowers her fists and darts up the spiraling staircase. She’s sprinting up two steps at a time, desperate to flee!

“No, you can’t just leave after uncovering the mirror- what if he escapes?! Please go put the cover back on the mirror. I won’t do it again- he almost pulled me through the glass last time I did!”

Robyn sprints to the top of the steps only to find that the wall is starting to rotate back into place! Robyn twists her body and narrowly makes it through the quickly closing entrance to the basement!

“No, please- don’t leave me down here with the man in the mirror! I want to see Maria! Tell her I miss her!”

Robyn falls on her hands and knees as she escapes from the basement. She turns around and sees a horrific looking creature trying to make it out from the confined space in the wall before it shuts.

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“Leave me alone!”

Robyn quickly pushes herself to her feet as the wall closes back in place behind her. Robyn can hear the pleading screams of the creature trapped in the basement as she makes a bee line for the car she has parked out in the driveway. She has a whole new set of questions for her Tio Enrique, and she can only pray that he has answers for her.


Robyn Gonzalez sits across a protected glass panel from her Tío Enrique. She looks at him with watery eyes as she places a hand up on the glass. The last time her watery eyes saw her tío was at her madre’s funeral. She ran out on the funeral after Charlie handed her a letter from Maria Gonzalez confessing her love for Charlie and her newfound pregnancy. Robyn never saw Enrique draw his trusty revolver and take a shot at The Nickleman, but she thought it was unfortunate that he missed. The tio and sobrina both sat across the glass from each other while holding white phones to their ears.

“So how have you been, little butterfly?”

Robyn took a deep breath as she recollected this morning’s events. She glanced over at the prison guard reading the newspaper in the corner before setting her sights back on Enrique.

“Eventful. I was going to ask you how YOU’VE been, I mean, you’re the one stuck here! But honestly, I think….I think maybe my day has been scarier than yours.”

“Oh there’s nothing scary about prison, darling. All my friends are here, they said they missed me. I even have my old cellmate back! His bullet actually hit the guy though, so he’s going to be stuck here for a lot longer than me.”

“Enrique…can I ask you anything?”

Enrique looked back at the guard who was, at best, paying mild attention to their surroundings.

“I mean….don’t say anything to incriminate me in anything criminal. I know the kind of barrios you like to hang around.”

Enrique flashed his classic smile and Robyn couldn’t help but crack up after he winked at her.

“But seriously Robyn, what’s going on? You seem more tense than I am, and well, we both know my situation! Spill the beans, sobrina.”

“Have you ever been to the basement of mi madre’s house?”

Enrique’s usual jokiness immediately subsides as a somber expression takes hold on his face. The wrinkles on his face betray his lifelong stress. He looks at Robyn as he purses his lips.

“Well….have you?”

Enrique looks down at the ground for an uncomfortable amount of time as he holds the white phone up to his ear. He shakes his head from side to side and sighs softly in defeat as he brings his gaze back up. He looks into Robyn’s eyes with wrought regret.

“Your mother should have been the one to do this.”

“What are you talking about?”

Robyn looks at Enrique with pained confusion. He closes his eyes as he answers her question with a question.

“Have you ever heard the tale of Damian Kyllen and the followers of Algol?”

“Just answer my question, Tio! Have you ever been to mi madre’s basement? I never even knew we had a basement!”

“I hope your mother had the courage to do what had to be done. Did you go down there?”

“Of course!”

“What did you fin-” Enrique looks back at the disinterested guard. The uniformed officer seems to be dozing off in his chair. “Don’t tell me. Just know….you were never supposed to be down there. It’s not safe for you down there! It’s not safe for Rosa, either, but Maria insisted on letting her liv-, er, leech off of her. Like a sickly parasite. Her whole life has been a waste. Rosa’s useless and every breath she takes is shamefully arrogant.”

Robyn looked through the glass with nothing but confusion.

“Rosa? What are you talking about?!”

“I can’t tell you, not here. The last thing I need is for religion to get brought into my legal situation! The prosecutors would have a field day. Just, go use bing or whatever it is you gen-z kids do. Look up the fable of Damien and Dante. Not the inferno, but the crib! Not every family that tries to repeat the ritual can see it through to the end, and Algol curses them for it! They are forced to shoulder the burden of the curse until they can come to their senses and cut it out! But Maria would never let me finish the job…agh, I wish she would’ve at least planned for this!”

“I don’t understand any of what’s happening! I was just cleaning mi madre’s place up and-”

“Look, there’s nothing I can say to make this normal or okay. Maria gave up the pantheon when she found the Catholic church. She used to roll with bad boys, werewolves, and vampires until she found Jesus: but truth be told I always knew she had a major soft spot in that bleeding heart of hers. It’s that same bleeding heart you inherited. Maria kept Rosa around, but if you just leave that basement alone I figure the problem will take care of itself sooner or later. Catch my drift?”

“I saw something in that basement….was that thing real?”

“You’re not catching my drift at all, are you? Just leave it alone, Robyn. It doesn’t concern you. Let our family’s shameful secrets die in the darkness! Rosa, Charlie- all of them! Don’t give their existence any air and they can never be used to harm you. Just live your life in the XWF and bring glory to the name Gonzalez. That’s all you need to do!”

“I have no idea what’s going on and I’m scared! What am I supposed to do when I go back to the house?”

“Don’t go back, just wait a few more months and sell it! There’s nothing in there that you need to have. You are your own woman now, Robyn, and you can bring honor to our family without tying yourself down to any of our famil-”

Robyn pulls the necklace from the end table out of her pockets and shows it to Enrique.

“You shouldn’t have that! You should throw that in a river, or in the sewer!”

“What is this? What’s going on?!”

The seated guard suddenly rises with a big yawn. He steps to his feet and checks the watch around his wrist. He licks his chapped lips before calling over to the conversing occultists.

“Time’s up, Enrique! Guerrero gets the phone next.”

“I just need one more minute to talk t-”



Enrique goes to speak but the guard grabs the phone out of his hands before placing it back on the receiver. The guard waves at Robyn from the other side of the glass. Enrique looks like he is frantically saying something to his sobrina, but the guard pulls him out of the room far too quickly for Robyn to make any sense of it. Robyn’s head collapses into her hands as she sits in the chair next to the phone receiver. A voice calls out from behind her.

“Ma’am, we have some other people waiting for the phone if you don’t mind.”

“Right, of course…”

Robyn hangs up the phone and walks away from the glass with more questions than answers.


Robyn cuts the ignition to her car as she pulls back into the driveway of her mother’s house. By the time she worked up the nerve to return, the sun had set and the moon had risen. The star of Algol shines down on the scene from above with hopeful anticipation. Robyn opens the door of her vehicle and steps out onto the asphalt. She takes a deep breath and prepares herself for what she may find as she steps around her car and up towards the front door of the home.

No matter how hard she tried Robyn just couldn't follow Enrique's advice. There were questions burning so deeply in Robyn's soul that she was, perhaps literally, dying to know the answers. She started the day worrying about her bastard father and her now tarnished heritage: now, however, more pressing matters had come to the fray. Just what was that thing hiding in the walls of her childhood home? And who exactly was this Rosa her Tio spoke of? Robyn's mind couldn't shake the image of that tiny gremlin-like beast that was following her up the stairs. The monster almost looked like it was calling out for help. Was that thing real, or just a figment of her overactive imagination? Robyn was scared to find out, but she thought she owed it to herself to know the truth about her family's darkest secrets.

Robyn reaches into her pocket and pulls out the necklace that she found earlier that day.

“This looks pretty powerful…”

Robyn considers her options as she stares down at the metal jewelry in her hand. She wasn’t sure what kind of evil may be resting in this house, but she damn sure wasn’t about to let some sort of demon or ghost haunt her mother’s home. Robyn put the necklace on and placed the pendant down near her heart before opening the door and walking into her childhood home with a reserved confidence.

“Whatever you are….this is my family’s home and you aren’t welcome!”

Robyn looked around the living room. Nothing looks to have been disturbed since she left all those hours ago. She turns her gaze to the wall that contains the secret staircase. Robyn approaches the wall slowly before placing her ear against it.

She doesn’t hear anything.

“Now how does this thing open again?”

Robyn took a few steps away from the wall as she thought back to the sudden emergence of the staircase.


Robyn snapped her fingers together as she recalled the day’s earlier events. She repeated the lullaby her mother used to sing to her when she was young.

"Oh estrella de la maravilla, estrella de la noche
Estrella con belleza real brillante
Dirigiendo hacia el oeste, aún en curso
Guíanos a tu Luz Perfecta"

The house violently shakes as the wall begins to turn. The wall rotates at a ninety degree angle to reveal the secret staircase leading to the basement. All seems quiet. Robyn closes her eyes and prays for luck before stepping forward into the unknown.

Robyn slowly creeps down the staircase with watchful eyes like a soldier of God on the hunt for evil. As she steps off the staircase and onto the wooden flooring the boards creak beneath her weight. The amulet around her neck begins to shine as a bright light suddenly flashes in the mirror on the wall.

When Robyn turns her head at the mirror in surprise an image suddenly begins to form in the glass.

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Sebastian Duke’s bloody face appears in the mirror.

"Asmodeus….help me….help me! Help me understand my dreams….I see him there, watching that luchadora….”

“Oh no no no no this is too much!”

Robyn starts tripping over herself as she tries to walk backwards. She falls to a seated position as the man’s bloody face contorts into an angry expression.

"You can't be serious. All of the dreams I've had over the last few weeks, none of them have been false! That last one I had with Unknown Soldier! I drank that goblet of blood and whatever! I woke up with blood dripping down my chin! It’s just like my first dream with him, when I dreamed that Unknown Soldier would beat me in my first XWF match and then he did!”

“The blood is not just on your chin, dude!”

Robyn’s quick line doesn’t diminish her clear fright as she hurriedly tries to push herself up to her feet. The little gremlin creature from earlier comes running out of the shadows with the drape that was once covering the mirror. She throws the drape over to Robyn.

“Cover the mirror before he comes back! He will try to escape!”

Sebastian looks out through the mirror and directly at Robyn.

"Wait, I know that pentagram! I wore that pentagram! Get that pentagram away from me, and keep it away from my son!"

Robyn looks down at the disgusting gremlin creature with nervous trust as the man in the mirror looks at her with scorn. Robyn tentatively approaches the mirror with the drape in her hands.

“I’m just going to…cover you up now…okay?”

“Stay away from me with that thing!”

The pentagram hanging from Robyn’s neck grows brighter and brighter as she approaches the mirror affixed to the wall. The man with the bloody face turns away and immediately scampers away from the mirror and off into the distance on the other side of the glass.

Robyn throws the drape onto the mirror.

A new image flashes across the glass for that brief moment while the drape is in the air.

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“He’s here, he's here! Pinche, pinche, pinche! He said he's going to hurt me!”

The drapery falls over the mirror and covers it. The necklace ceases all glowing. The little gremlin creature seems to breathe a sigh of relief as the man in the mirror is once again concealed behind the cloth. Robyn looks down at the monstrosity with curious hesitation. She remembered back to what little information her Tio had been willing to give her.


The little creature perked up at the mention of it’s name. It hobbled over to Robyn and sat down in front of her with a smile.

“That’s me! Thank you for covering the bad man up! It's so hard for me to reach up there with my little arms!”

Robyn tried to force a smile back. She gave the monster a half-hearted wave.

“So I have two questions for YOU now.”

A gulp was caught in Robyn’s throat. She didn’t know what type of games or riddles this little monster might be trying to play with her. Robyn didn’t trust this gremlin at all, and was half-tempted to follow Enrique’s advice and just leave this house forever…but she stood still and heard the creature out.

“Question one: Who are you?

And question two…..

What are we going to do now?”

Robyn stood there and stammered as she looked down at this tiny being she was never prepared for.


The small creature grew impatient and rolled its eyes.

“Well….do you at least have anything to eat?! I’m starving! Maria hasn’t brought me any food in weeks!”

Robyn takes a step back before the totality of the situation hits her like a freight train. She breaks into a sweat as her vision goes out. All she sees is black as her body hits the ground. The deformed abomination rushes over to Robyn as she faints in the basement unknown to the world.


Mi padre bastardo le dio una paliza a tu papi. Ahora la hija va a someter al hijo.

Tal vez la lucha realmente esté en la sangre, después de todo, y tal vez algunas líneas de sangre sean más fuertes que otras.

Or maybe Vita was right, maybe everyone’s individual actions are what shape and define them.

Either way, Thaddeus: you’re not going to be walking away from Warfare with anything but a bruised ego and a whole buffet of crow! You can talk your talk all day long, although I do have to say it is a rather silly idea to try and out-talk someone who’s bilingual. I can talk circles around rich gringos in two languages. I was doing that for years growing up, that’s how I was able to fleece them out of their mula!

But even if you really are a smoother talker than me, Thaddeus: you’re going to have to walk that walk come Wednesday night. And let’s be real, hombre, how are you going to walk any type of walk when I have your ankle locked in an imanari roll?

When we step into that ring you’re going to have to face the fact that I’m simply a more technical luchador than you are. I know that hurts your pride. I mean after all, who am I and who are you?

You are the pride and joy of the Duke legacy. You probably think I’m just some plucky young brown kid off the street. You have spent your entire life in the best gyms in the world, with the finest trainers working on the most expensive equipment money can buy. You’ve gone head to head with some of the best luchadors to ever lace up a pair of boots- you don’t usually beat them, but you’ve definitely gone up against a bunch of them! You’re a certified blue chipper- there are no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I’m under no illusions as to who it is I’m going to war with.

But you, Thaddeus? You have no idea about the world of hurt you’re about to go through! What am I to you? Just another Anarchy cast-away? A quick ‘gimme’ before the pay-per-view? Gastar saliva. You don’t have the slightest clue as to who I really am, all you know is my mask.

I may not have grown up training in the nicest gyms in the world. I may have grown up training with mi madre y mi tío Enrique, but I submit to you Thaddeus that they prepared for me this match far better than Chris Page y Sebastian prepared you! To be honest with you, Thaddeus, your padre just doesn’t have the gonads mi madre had!

The results of my backyard training school speak all on their own, far louder than words ever can. The proof is absolutely in this pudding. It is indisputable fact that La Latina Submission Machina has, since being signed to a contract, spent more days as an XWF champion than not. Latina Submission Machina is the youngest person to ever hold the Billion Dollar championship. Latina Submission Machina is the youngest person to ever hold the 24/7 freestyle championship. Latina Submission Machina is one of the most dominant anarchy champions of all time, and pretty soon, Latina Submission Machina is going to be the youngest person to ever make Doc D'Ville tap out live on pay per view!

The fact that Thaddeus is overlooking me proves just how out of touch he is with the real pecking order here in the XWF. It seems that all his padre taught him was how to be a pompous buffoon with extreme entitlement problems. Maybe living your whole life in your padre’s shadow made you extremely bitter and narcissistic. Yeah yeah yeah I know you have your fair share of daddy issues, but we all have those! You need to get over them and start forging your own path in this world, kid! Like I am doing!

I stand on my own two feet as the finest submission specialist in the world. Soy una verdadera máquina de sumisión, all the rest is just clever marketing! I am ready for anything you can throw at me in this match. The figure four? I mastered it before my quinceanera. Your elevated boston crab? I’ve been rolling out of that since I was in diapers! STFs and sharpshooters? Just go ahead and try it, see what happens.

I’ve watched the tape, Thaddeus, trust me I’ve studied your film. It’s not a stretch to say you haven’t mastered a single submission, that’s just truth. Every submission you know is executed at the adept level. It works, it gets you through especially in this day and age, but it’s not going to get you past a true jiu jitsu blackbelt. You don’t have a single specialized submission in your arsenal, you don’t have a go-to move that you just KNOW will make someone tap out. Every single hold you have is iffy, they’re all so-so and only work some of the time.

You don’t have a Rings of Vita, you don’t have a DOCta ha jima. All you have available to you is a bunch of worn-out generics and whatever half-baked idea you can come up with in real-time.

Nothing trained.

Nothing scary.

And that’s the difference between Latina Submission Machina and Thaddeus Lionheart Duke.

I have trained submissions.

It’s scary to be in my submissions!

Just ask Oswaldo who’s submissions are better, just ask him! I made my name in this business by eating championship belts off of Oswaldo’s plate. Thaddeus Duke is the guy who lost a belt to Oswaldo and walked away from that particular Warfare with the shortest X-treme title reign in all of history. I don’t know if Thaddeus had an empty tank or a ghost tank that night or what, I just know that I’d be embarrassed if Oswaldo beat me and took away my championship!

Of course Oswaldo could never beat me, I’ve proven that over and over again. My submissions are just too much for anyone to handle, even a big tough veteran Duke slayer like Oswaldo! The BOB Overlord just could not figure out a way to get past my armbars! But in his defense: nobody can figure it out!

My armbars have changed the entire game down in Mexico. People used to wear steel plates around their arms when they wrestled me! STEEL PLATE ARMOUR!

So I had to switch my game up, naturally. That’s when I started picking ankles professionally! I bet you have never even heard of an Imanari Roll until this very moment, huh, Thad? I don’t think Sebastian ever learned it and if Sebastian never saw it, he definitely never taught it to his son! I’ll give you a free lesson on my signature submission in the match, Thad, so that way you can teach Frankie about it when you get home- after the swelling has gone down and the advil’s kicked in!

You have a reputation for passing out instead of tapping out, Duke- but a lot of luchadors have that reputation UNTIL they’re trapped in my armbar! A lion can’t help but whine when it’s trapped in a DRAGON sleeper!

I’ve got the moves and I know how to groove better than you between those ropes. If this was a hardcore match or a steel cage match or some other gimmicked up nonsense Thad may well have had the advantage, but if a frog had a glass butt it would break it everytime it jumped on a rock! We just have to live our lives in the real world!

And honestly, Thad? Passing out instead of tapping out is so cliche and overdone. It’s the ultimate meathead move. Why jeopardize your entire future just because someone got you in the wrong hold at the wrong time? Why risk your whole career just to prove a point? Why end the match like a sleeping baby instead of a humbled man?

It’s clear from your fighting habits that you’ve never even talked to an elite jiu jitsu master, let alone trained under one! That’s a pretty big oversight from your handling team, you’d think someone would have gotten you down to Rio De Janeiro at some point or another. I guess the racism runs deep in the Duke klan!

A real jiu jitsu expert would call you foolish and dishonorable for refusing to yield when it’s clear that you’ve been bested. So Thad, allow me to do the honor:

You’re foolish and dishonorable!

If you just tap out when I have your limbs locked up you’ll walk away from the match having learned a few dozen things about technical wrestling: but if you try to ‘tough it out’ when it’s clear that I’m breaking your legs all you’re going to learn is how difficult it is to schedule physical therapy during a pandemic!

I don’t mean to be crass, Thaddeus, but I just can’t stand to watch someone disrespect my artform while simultaneously claiming to have mastered it! Just imagine how mad you would be if I started dressing in designer clothes and blowing the budget of entire shows on my elaborate entrances! Point is, Thaddeus, you’d feel pretty bent out of shape too if the situation was reversed!

I have only been signed to the XWF for a short time but I’ve been here long enough to know that we each have a unique role to fill on these shows. I’m the woman who comes out and makes jaws hit the floor with every nimble movement and perfect counter. Thaddeus is the guy who walks out alongside every firecracker he could find in the tri-state area to a smattering of boos. I’m the woman who lets my in-ring work speak for me because it says more than enough on it’s own. Thaddeus is the guy who just can’t stop himself from cutting a fifteen minute promo every time he’s booked for a show, and even half the times he’s not! He’s probably going to be out of breath before our match even starts!

This match is probably going to play out like The Last Alamo movie: some boring gringo is going to give a long and drawn-out speech full of questionably racist caca, and then some badass Mexican is going to come in and fortnite dance all over his fort!

Realistically speaking those white boys at the Alamo were even better prepared for their fight than Thaddeus is for his. At least they understood what they were up against and had experience fighting against their opponents! Thaddeus thinks I’m going to be a cakewalk, and he’s never in his life grappled with someone as quick and skillful as I am! If we’re talking technique, I can wrestle better than almost anyone who’s come before me! Thaddeus Duke built his legacy off of fighting brawlers, high flyers, and deathmatch guys: he wouldn’t even know how to prepare for someone more technical than him if he tried!

When was the last time Thaddeus Duke wrestled somebody that used shin kicks as a major part of their offensive repertoire? Has he EVER?! If Duke isn't careful I'll kick his legs out from under him while he's trying to duke it out with me. Every step he takes in that ring needs to be precise or else his shinbone is getting a hairline fracture every time he walks my way. If kick after kick after kick isn't enough to break Thad's spirit my ankle lock will definitely finish the match!

The Dukes may be nimble enough to move legislation through congress but they are nowhere near nimble enough to tango with el chapo’s favorita luchadora! I’d tell you that the would-be emperor of the XWF has no clothes but the fact that he wrestles in his underwear already gives that away! He runs around in the ring in nothing but underwear, knee pads, and skimpy boots. When you’re talking about Thaddeus Duke you are talking about a wrestler that clearly and obviously sucks!

This is getting harsh, I know I know, but you know what? Mi madre would have thought that line was hilarious, so I don’t even feel bad about saying it! Besides, we all know Thaddeus is going to say all sorts of nasty things about me in his promotional shoot. It’s only right that I defend myself from his crude and overused insults with quick-witted humor!

It’s clear to me that Thaddeus’s style of comedy is a lot like his style of wrestling. He’s going to repeat the same things everyone else says and does with an adept’s proficiency. It’s nothing too fancy at all, but all the same he’s going to be standing there waiting for a standing ovation that will never come. No one is impressed by the same old two-step anymore, but Thaddeus is too self-centered to ever accept the fact that maybe his act needs to change if he ever wants to achieve the legacy he thinks he is owed.

It’s looking like Thad’s best days are about 11 months behind him, and that’s quite sad for someone who’s not even 25 yet! But Duke can’t beat Smith, so now he’s beating up on his pa. Frankly, that type of childish insolence is disgusting to me. Thaddeus needs to change his attitude and learn some respect for his elders. Sebastian looks like a 60 year old man and works in the ring like a 90 year old one. Duke and his newfound cronies need to find something better to do than beating up on old folks!

Personally, and I’m sure everyone agrees with me, I liked Thaddeus Duke better when he was trying to be cast as leading man in SPLAT’s Glee spinoff series. He used to be so merry and gay, but now he’s putting up a tough front and acting like a frat brat drunk off his daddy’s money. Thaddeus needs to be taught some humility and forced to eat some humble pie.

I was hoping Sebastian would be able to knock some manners back into his son, after all it’s not my job to teach Thaddeus the harsh lesson of life….but when duty calls, a machina has no choice but to answer! I guess it’s in my programming.

I remember what Vinnie Lane said on commentary when he was calling my last match on Anarchy. I’ve already watched the game tape from last Thursday a thousand times, and in that film session I saw a hundred ways to improve my game going into tomorrow night. But there was one thing Vinnie said during that match that really stuck out with me. While I had my opponent trapped in one of my patented sleepers, Vinnie said:

"Once the Machina locks one in, it's all over!

And he was right. Just a few seconds later my opponent tapped out.

Now hearing Vinnie say that puts quite the smile on my face, but it should put a big look of worry on Thad’s face. When has anyone, let alone the Chief Executive himself, said something similar about Thad’s technical prowess? Spoiler alert: the answer is never. Thaddeus Duke doesn’t even have enough money to pay someone to say that about him! No one with any integrity wants to be caught peddling such a demonstrably disprovable lie.

If Thaddeus Duke doesn’t realize my holds are inescapable then he’s just a submitted man walking. If he doesn’t respect my in-ring skills enough to always be wary of my grappling and jiu jitsu, he's going to accidentally waltz right into any number of high-level maneuvers that he has never prepared for. His arrogance will be his downfall when he steps into the ring with the Latina Submission Machina. Thad’s coterie of yes-men will be screaming at him to ‘fight through the pain!’, but what good is that going to do him when it’s clear he’s lost the fight?

Thaddeus Duke is writing the one check his accountant can’t cash for him. All the money in the world isn’t going to be able to spare Thaddeus from this can of golpeando el culo I’m opening up tomorrow night!

[Image: 0BHMDmC.png]
2x Freestyle Champion
1x Billion Dollar Champion
2x Anarchy Champion
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