The camera opens with a shot of a rustic ferris wheel creaking in the wind. The distant machine turns ever so slowly, seemingly unencumbered by the ivy climbing it’s metallic frame. Rolling gray clouds threaten rain from overhead as a figure in blue jeans and a dark hoodie walks out from behind the camera, following the green path between the trees. They rub the back of their curly haired skull as they mumble to themselves.

You haven’t fared any better than me, have ya, Chippewa?

The large figure pauses and looks up at the croaking carnival ride in the distance.

It’s good to see you are still spinning your wheels, even after all this time. Even after all this rust. We do Ohio proud, you and I, Chippewa. Even if they can’t appreciate us for who we are, who we were, and who we could have been....we still spin our wheels in the wind.

The camera follows along as the figure resumes trudging along the green path. The figure inches towards the ferris wheel, adrift and mumbling .

The world has left us behind. That’s what they want to say. That’s what they want to believe. But we know better. We’ve both been down this path before. Demolition team after demolition team can come and try to blow our foundations away, but we are Ohio built. We were built to last, built to weather every storm.

We’ve seen brighter days, it’s true. But all it would take to fully bring us back to life, Chippewa, is a crew full of carnies with a little bit of ambition. We just need a few good carnies who are willing to risk everything because they have nothing to lose.

As they approach the impromptu metal garden the camera slowly rotates 180 degrees. We are treated to a faceful of Charlie Nickles, who appears to have recently shaved the sides of his beard. Charlie reaches out for the ferris wheel and grabs a hold of an ivy covered frame with his left hand.

Marf is the perfect candidate. That dissentient is truly more demon than man. I’ve seen it firsthand. Over the course of years.

Charlie brought his other hand up to the metal frame of the ferris wheel. Charlie looked down as he lifted his left leg up onto an impromptu foothold and began scaling the rusted contraption.

From our tag team run in the FCW to our feud over the Heavymetalweight championship belt in the XWF, I’ve seen his dark side and I’ve seen his even darker side. Sometimes his even darker side looks more crimson in color, but it is what it is. In that demon’s heart there is nothing but malice, contempt, and lust. Of course he snatched my television belt off that limp-wristed libtard bitch. Motherfuckers like Marf have no time for that greater good and holy cause hogwash. That’s exactly why I drafted him with my first reverse pick.

The camera zoomed in on Charlie’s sweaty face as he ascended the abandoned ferris wheel.

My second reverse pick, well, her role on this team is a whole lot different. A blonde firecracker, the way Dolly electrifies the audience I would swear she evolved from a Pikachu. I’m pretty sure the youngn’ went and got her high school diploma during her brief hiatus from the XWF, but even still she doesn’t know the meaning of the word quit. Dolly is an absolute wildcard sprouting into a classic blue chipper.

Charlie smiled from ear to ear as he slowly pulled his body up the metal frame of the still spinning ferris wheel.

And my third reverse pick, well…..I’ll save my breath. I’m sure even YOU know who Robert Main is and what he does at war games, Chip.

Charlie was nearing the top of the scaffolding when the sounds and sights of the carnival sprouted to life. Flashing lights of every color began to brighten the abandoned park as an old familiar sound played through the blown out speakers of the PA system.

Disneyland Hotel Following Wednesday Warfare

“And your winner! DOLLY! WATERS!!!”

An old familiar sound.

Standing in the blistering shower, she still felt the euphoric tingle of those words through every pore. A welcomed side effect that trumped anything she ever considered to be a pleasure. And like those old cutting itches, Dolly was already jonesing for that sound again. Jonesing for that rush. Hot on the tail of a dragon named Redemption.

Dolly closes her eyes and leans her scuffed face into the burning waters. Trails of mascara and blood running down her cheeks. It seared the wounds into her memory and she stayed with them, like a silent clamoring to remember the prerequisite pains of glory.

She wanted to be there again...

A cherry-picker transports Dolly from the overt pitfall of a wrestling ring ninety feet above the surface, to the grounds of Disneyland. She moves between the roped-off crowd of XWF fans, whose faces are minted in astonishment and horror after watching that match. Seeing what Dolly managed to pull off in the face of certain death - saving a life, and kicking an ass.

A charming but crooked little smile creeps on her face at the sound of the quiet shock. Another intoxicant. A nostalgic tingle to the eardrums. Her swagger intensifies and beams from bloodied-lip to battered-leg. She knows what’s next… she feels it getting closer, the dragon is near. War Games. She couldn’t be more confident.

For everything Dolly had been through in her life, and her career in the XWF- The brief, savory tastes of triumph on her lips- The time lost plunges into misery and defeat- She felt herself compelled into this moment, the dragon’s scream beckoning her from the mountain top. That old familiar sound again. She’s never been more ready to face it down. Grapple it, and bend it to her will. Ready to reassert herself in this profession she loves.

The water leaves the shower head and falls from the faucet after a metallic thud. The handle squeaks in Dolly’s grip, leaving just a persistent drip to fill the tranquility of her hotel room as she wraps a towel under her arms and around her chest. Dolly passes the bathroom mirror, then halts and comes back to give herself one last look over… She sees herself as a ravishing young lady, one that has a beautiful soul. However she appears in her juvenescence, it was her soul that would show through in every feature as she ages in this conquest. She gives one last smile before exiting the bathroom taking a seat on the extra cozy bed... She hardly gives herself time to dry, before stepping into some leggings and a loose tank top.

This’ll be her last stop before the inevitable rendezvous with team Charlie. She’s eager to get to work and do everything she can to pull this team together. In her mind, winning War Games was the only focus. She grabs her iPhone from a charger on the end table next to her bed, and pulls out a piece of paper from the drawer underneath. It’s a contact list for her teammates provided by the XWF.

Here goes nothing…

She mutters, while entering the first number on the list and pressing the dial button. A harsh and staticy voice barks through the speaker immediately.

Who the fuck is this?

Who the fuck is THIS?!

The motherfucker that KOed Thaddeus on Savage!


That never happened. He was banging gender fluid Twitter models in Omaha or something. Just ask him.

Is this Corey? With that shrill little voice, I bet it is. Fuck you! See how long you held that TV belt? Look how long I held it, sissyboy!


Are you done?

I’m just getting started, bitch! I’m the goddamn Nickleman! AKA the longest reigning television champion in all of human history! That’s a fact! I’m the bee's knees and the stiff cock that fills ya granny up during every conjugal visit. I’d tell you to get fucked, Corey, but now that Dolly’s on my team I’m not going to let that happen anymore! Isn’t she like 15, anyways, you sick fucker?

I’m eighteen, fuckwad. This is yer’ draftee, Dolly Waters reporting for duty. Are you ready to put these bitches in their place at War Games?

Only if that place is six feet deep!

I like yer’ thinking. You heard from Robert and Marf yet?

Nah, I haven’t been able to get a call out to my other killers. The signal’s been reeeaaalll spotty here.

You don’t have unlimited 5G? Fucking boomer. Why don’t you find a spot wh-

How about I find your G-spot instead! I bet Corey and Thad were never able to do that for you!

Dolly let’s out an audible sigh

Hey, creep, why don’t you find a spot where you can hear me loud and clear for just a moment. Charlie: I know we’re barely familiar with one another, but believe-you-me, you made the smartest decision of yer’ life drafting Dolly Waters.

These ol’ fuccbois? The cock, the cockless, the cuck and the cunt? They don’t stand a chance. Mr. Dick Powers, as he’s proven before, will be too focused on fingering his own asshole to do any real research for this match. That walking, talking cock-wart doesn’t even realize how lucky he is that I let him off the hook for Leap Of Faith. Frizzy headed fuck. Don’t get me wrong, he’s talented - talented in the same way Bill Cosby is at getting laid, but it’s a skill nonetheless.

All he’ll do is smack those cold sore covered lips about dedication, and flakiness, and call me an attention crazed cunt in between forcing cumwads of backhanded irreverence down our throats. He’s too predictable. It’s always hilarious when people take that route with me, when they try making me a reflection of all of their worst qualities, when in reality there’s not a soul in the XWF, or in this matchup alone who has EVER been 100 percent dedicated to this job.

It’s the nature of the beast. Just look at Jim Caedus for instance. Is Dick Powers really going to CUM at Dolly Waters over my time away from the XWF only to turn around and draft another perpetual disappearing act with his first pick? Of course he will, because again, Dick doesn’t pay attention to anything and he’s as shallow as his own sperm count. But for what it’s worth, Caedus truly is a man in this industry I respect. Birds of a flaky feather, he and I? Maybe. But it just further proves my point.

Then let’s look at Dick’s next pick, The “Nefarious” One. Dhali dick-sucking Lama what is this non-threatening motherfucker doing? Please tell me Powers isn’t going to play the dedicated rassler card against me with this lazy sack of Google search one-liners.

Have you ever tried to watch a Ned Kaye vignette? Yeah, good luck! The format is always fucked up, one week it’s Blu-Ray, the next is fucking Beta Max. You know why? Listen no further past the word BETA to understand Ned Kaye. You think I didn’t watch how that bald scrotum had to cheat my Uncle Edgar for the Hart title? He goes through all of that trouble only to become disinterested and allow that withering old pussy-willow Stephen Cooper to cuck him out of his own stable. I mean fer’ fucks sake, I forgot Avalanche even existed until Cooper and that guy who literally got raped were running the show. That’s what Ned turned the reins of his personality conflict over to, a creepy old man and a guy who got his buttcheeks taped together. Avalanche started out as a series of riddles, but it was never that complex. Ned Kaye is just an idiot.

Now lastly and leastly, Miss Geri Vayden. We can’t blame that one on Dick, and though I’m sure he finds it shocking that I was taken before that last spot rolled around, the guy should have some experience in getting-off from a dead fuck. XWF’s Mrs. Irrelevant 2021 is dead on arrival. Literally. I think she died somewhere between the beatings from Bobby, Thias and Terry, and now Theo has just been reanimating her body like A Weekend at Bernie’s to get his pennies worth out of her. Can’t blame him, bitch is a waste.

What the fuck is all that supposed to mean?!

It means we’re winning War Games, Chuck. Now get Robert and Marf on the phone and let’s get this shit sorted.

Errrmm…...how?

Yer’ kidding? Hold on a-

Dolly pulls the phone away from her ear and puts it on speaker. After fidgeting around with the call features she’s able to patch in two additional phone-calls from the contact sheet. She and Charlie listen as the phone rings…

” Hello…”

The phone continues to ring

Marf answers. He doesn’t say anything right away. There’s a heavy sigh with a lot of muffled background noise before he finally speaks up.

.....who the fuck is this and how did you get my number?

That anyway to greet a former FCW tag team champion, pahtnah?

Awkward pause.

...Jesus fucking Christ, Charlie!? How did you even get this number!?

” Same question? How did my number get into the hands of a deranged lunatic? That spot is already filled in my life. Delete my number as soon as this call is over… I don’t want any weird texts later on...”

Theo handed out contact lists for the teams. I’m guessing I’m the only one who grabbed it, huh?

” I’ll be honest, I didn’t believe Charlie had the mental capacity to get this thing off the ground… But here we are all talking on the phone like a bunch girls in high school…”

I feel attacked. Fucker. Anywho, we need to talk strategy. Which of these nutless mutts should we target for elimination first?

Caedus...I can’t wait to get my hands on him, in a non-poisoned state of mind. That mouthy fuck is holding onto a rain check for an ass whipping courtesy of yours truly. If he thinks he’s got something to hold over my head with a so-called tag win over me, well then congratu-fuckin-lations to Jimmy! He beat a fraction of the man I truly am. And it still took a full match with help from Main. And now he’s on my team motherfucker! Jim Jim is about to get fucked harder than a gambling addict putting their mortgage up for grabs with a five eight off suit all in call. He could barely stop me on my worst day, the fuck is he gonna do when he experiences my best? That bloated fuck is past his prime and after I’m done with Jimbo, he’ll be watching the last of his career pass him by. Time to load up my shotgun. I'm ready to put him out to pasture.

Audible laughter can be heard from Robert…

” Easy what you ask for ladies and gentlemen, Jimmy isn’t the one to fuck with even with his current circumstances going into Wargames… His team is well… Basically just a gigantic pile of hot garbage…” Robert can be heard fumbling around with the phone. ” Listen, first things first, if you’re not willing to go too far at Wargames, one thing is damn certain you’ll never win it. I'm irritated, drained and a bit under the weather, overtrained and under-motivated and still resilient enough to slay any of these clowns on team Powers… Hell, any of us taking on a broom would be more entertaining for the fans at this point… If Dick Powers, my microwave and left over Moo Goo Gai Pan from Ho Lee Fuk were all on Jeopardy, Powers woulden’t make the final fucking round… The guy couldn't lead a one man parade for Christ sakes. I don't walk around staring into any camera with a red light on telling people I'm the one of the absolute best in the business just to hear myself talk. I say it for the same reason they put warnings on bottles of bourbon… Robert Main can be hazardous to your health, especially when it comes to Wargames… I take great pride in the fact that I’ve never been defeated at this event. Some of these guys are good, durable wrestlers. I'll give them that… But compared to a maverick, there can only be one and I’ll never apologize for that… These imbeciles will come out swinging with the most ludicrous things imaginable. At least three of these walking fucktards are not qualified to make a sandwich let alone be in a Wargames match. ”

How's that sound, Charlie? Frankly, it’s got me all hot and bothered.

...

...

...Charlie?

There’s a pop and a gurgling sound followed by some static out of Charlie’s phone.

What was that?

Charlie? Was that you?

Dolly twists her eyebrow up scooting to the edge of her bed. Then she picks up on something out of her peripheral, What the fuck?!, Marf and Main only hear a shriek and a thud as Dolly hurls her phone down the shallow hall of her hotel room at a statue-like man standing in front of the door. He’s wearing a ski mask, and all black garments. A giant erection sticking from his track pants. Dolly rushes the man with a battle cry, but as she leaps towards him he catches her face with a damp rag and presses it onto her nose and mouth.

In seconds Dolly’s eyes roll into the back of her head. She is forced to the ground where her legs jerk a few times before going limp. On the other end of the phone, Marf and Main can hear the metal latch to the door pop open, and what sounds like a body being dragged before the door slams.

-to be continued-

2x KWA Unified Southern Glory Champion
6x KWA Middleweight Champion
4x KWA Tag Team Champion
1x XWF XTreme Champion


-Dumb Dolly records that no one cares about-

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