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Question Marks - Printable Version

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Question Marks - Dolly Waters - 06-22-2022



Dolly versus Question Marks... or asterisks, or whatever.

Seems fitting, don't it?

I mean in all seriousness, forget about the Universal Championship match-

forget about the fatal-four-way I just lost on Warfare-

forget about the absolute TEAR of in-ring mediocrity I've displayed since, well really since September of last year-

forget about all of that and ask yer'selves what I'm really facing here...

What type of beast is this?

It's probably more my question to answer, and not yours.

I mean obviously, outside of the abstract thought there, I could really be facing anyone. It's a pinch wrestler for Centurion in a tournament I’ve already lost. It doesn't matter. I just lost another match that I should've won on Warfare, and I've got eight hours to "sleep" before I’m boarding a jet to South Dakota. Hell, after this upcoming bout with the question marks on Anarchy, I'll have been in three matches in five days.

So what am I really facing here? Burnout? Pfft… that’s like my arch-rival in wrestling. I’m all too familiar with that monster, this is something else entirely. It goes beyond all the bodily and emotional angst and trauma. It ain’t just depression, or addiction, or anxiety, or PTSD, or the most nagging- the insomnia. Those are all just tag-lines for dating profiles anymore. No, there's a deeper fight waging on alright: Dolly versus… question marks.

You’d be hard pressed to not look at my upcoming schedule as an obvious and looming letdown. A fatal four way against ALIAS and others? It’d be enough for any rational human to feel a bit on edge…

-especially if that person just lost a mock fatal four way against substantially worse competition, while hoping it could serve as a practice run for the Universal Title match-

But that ain’t it either… not entirely. Self doubt be damned! Go on and tell Raion that I just pinned the man he couldn’t beat at March Madness to the mat for the third time in my career. Oh, and tell Charlie it was his daddy, Bobby. Tell ALIAS that I don’t want his universe, but I ain’t going to let him eat mine. Let em’ all know that I ain’t backing down. Busted knee, sleepless nights, overbooked touring schedule, fug.it.all. I’ll dust off my loss by dusting off whatever competition Vinnie throws at me on Anarchy and I’ll be primed and poised to rumble with you three at the Cannabis Cup.

See, there’s a fight somewhere deeper, a fight with question marks. Not the banal crap either:

“Is this finally the end of the road for Dolly?”

“How desperate must she be to hire Paul Heyman?”

“How can she ever bounce back?”

No, that’s all the things I’ll answer through my actions in and out of the ring over the next two weeks before I shock the universe at the Velvet Rabbit. There’s a road that’s coming to an end, but it ain’t mine, and my proverbial bounce back? That starts now, team-no-fugghin-sleep esketit. And as for those of you questioning my hiring of Heyman? Blow it out yer

Like how dare I, a wrestler, hire someone to help guide my career. Someone as experienced in the wrestling industry as Paul Heryman no less. Who’s managed Universal Champions like Paul Heyman no less. Who first managed my career in twenty-sixteen no less. You can call it whatever you will, but I hired Heyman to get my career on track. Because through all of this, through all of the fights with these “question marks”, one thing has remained clear, even when I’ve balked at the notion: I’m a professional wrestler. I love wrestling. I could’ve been a track star. ALIAS would’ve made a great power-forward. Kido? Tremendous short-stop. Charlie? That man has Jerry Sandusky written all over him. But we became wrestlers because we had no other choice. The ring was made for us. So if I’m doubling down on the dream, refocusing and taking my career, my passion for professional wrestling more serious by hiring a polished, prepped and prestigious manager means some sort of abstract net-negative for me, then maybe I’m in the wrong profession.

Hell, I could’ve hired Billy B. Blankenship. That would’ve been fun. But instead I went with someone who I know can help me produce results. Someone tried and tested. Again, forget what happened tonight. We’re working the kinks out, Heyman and I- but on tape? I LITERALLY pinned Bobby Bourbon, but the ref counted the wrong pin. You think my confidence moving forward is in the least bit shaken by that performance? Y’all don’t know me too well, huh?

It’s not those questions at all that I’m facing.

No, Dolly versus Question Marks… it’s something else.




……


…………. It’s Mini Morbid. I guarantee it. He’s gonna’ get wrekt.