"Ready?"



















Plenty of reasons why we’ve seen her here so often.

In this old familiar dark.

In this space that she’s built for herself, one cornerstone after cornerstone.

The place where she retreated for shelter at times of watershed.

It's been high-ground and a dream. It's been a friend and a lover. It's been a detox and a family. It's been every single refuge that the waves of change have required of her.

rebirth... ascendant... collapsed…

waxing on, waning off

...always



"Duke's?"


But it's just a promo... in your old recording booth...

We know it's more than just a promo booth, don't we?


We don’t see the walls that she’s built, but we know they’re there, that they protect her. Frame by frame. Nail by nail. Corner by corner. From ascension, to collapse, she finds herself reborn here again and always. She doesn't see the camera, or the boomstick, but she knows we’re watching and listening. Most importantly, she knows he's listening. He has no choice but to listen now.

Searing red bulbs burn into a glow above her head: RECORDING


With everything appearing customary here, where Dolly Waters has recorded wrestling promos from this exact location, in this exact setting, dozens of times over, we must ask ourselves-

"Why?"

-why would this be more than just a promo?


She closes her eyes. Gnaws down on her bottom lip. Inhales through her nostrils.


Because it's the final watershed.

Then

A pair of green eyes glow from her rosey skin. Blond curls bouncing down on a pair of pink shoulders, burnt ever so slightly from the southern Springtime sun. It's light, gentle and warm, yet powerful enough to bring life back to the dead roots beneath the dirt. The baby girl is squealing with amusement out in the damp, green teeming field. With a grind of her little teeth, and a joyus, uncontrolled writhing she reaches down, tearing a handful of dandelions from the earth.

She turns from the blossoming field, where honey bees zip in a happy swarm, bullfrogs and crickets springing with fertility, and pulls her fleeting attention toward a classic Antebellum Mansion sitting at the base of the knob. The same Antebellum Mansion R.L. Edgar and Demos would burn to the ground nearly twenty years later.

Mee-MAW! Mee-MAW! WOOOK!

Misty Waters’ face comes into view as she rises from a mounted swing on the mansion's veranda a mere twenty yards away. The proud, unconventionally young grandmother is wearing a stainless grin that pulls some charming crows feet near her eyes. ”Dolly, baby?!” she calls back with a playful tone to her shout,

WUT?! Wut Mee-Maw?!

”What’s Meemaw’s baby girl got? What are’d d’ose?” she asks with a fair blend of baby-talk to her accent as she moves from the base of the veranda down the steps, taking a seat. The sun provides a careful massage to her milky, ginger shoulders just beyond the shade of Misty’s bow tied sun hat.

Dolly’s extra petite body is writhing with excitement again, as she shoves the yellow topped dandelions into the front pocket of her blue overalls. DANDY-LINES, MEEMAW! she screams in happiness and laughter as she skips her tiny, shoeless feet forward over a rock and rushes towards her grandmother screaming still: DANDY-LINES! DANDY-LINES!

Beneath a quiet, beaming smile, and a twirling bourbon and tea concoction in her glass, young Dolly’s grandmother, Misty, is jovial. As every bit raucous and excited as the vibrant toddler pattering towards her through the grass. This child is a miracle in many senses. She’s a do-over for the young Mayor, the youngest Mayor ever in fact. The first female Mayor ever in fact, and in a conservative state no less. Young Dolly is a do-over for a woman who never failed at anything, except in her own son.

Misty finishes the bourbon, and leaves the sweating glass on the edge of the porch steps. She rises only to step forward and kneel down to receive her darting granddaughter. Dolly’s eyes are squinted in smile but glowing still, and in lockstep with Misty’s while her laughter vibrates through her bouncing knees.

Dolly mostly had forgotten about the dandelions, and with only her grandmother in sight and mind, she didn't see a large rock at the base of the paved driveway. Her fragile toe bangs and scrapes up the rock. Dolly’s face contorts from nirvana to a pale terror, her bottom lip folding down into a rushed and forced frown. Misty lunges forward with a gasp, but it’s too late.

Dolly bites the pavement of the driveway, her bottom teeth piercing into her lip. The fall was swift, the landing loud, it all sounded like a firework mortar rushing from a cardboard tube. With an explosion of painful screaming surely to follow. The toddler has no time to react before she’s swept into Misty’s arms. By the time her eye’s meet Misty’s, they’re already welling over, her face lemoning, the bottom of her mouth blackened with blood.

Misty’s facial expression falls from concern and onto a bed of nails. Her eyes tearing into Dolly like tree-switches. Just as Dolly is about to react naturally to the gruesome looking injury after a series of sputtering gasps, Misty pinches her bottom lip between her thumb and index knuckle.

“No!” she growls, a guttural tone following with, ”Waters don’t shed tears!”
Dolly’s pale face trembles while caught in Misty’s vises, soundless streams of tears burning the busted and bruised chin.

She’s stood up on her feet, her toe is split open and looking every bit as worse for the wear as her lip. So Dolly tries picking that leg right back up from the pavement, but Misty isn’t having it. She yanks the toddler into a grounded, upright position, squaring the little girl’s shoulders and tucking her chin into her chest. Dolly stammers through a whimper of gasps, but she isn’t crying. Misty’s bristling shift in demeanor has left her tear ducts scared stiff. Only a rippling gust of wind breaks the unnerving silence on the knob. Until, ”Here now, let Meemaw-”

There’s a muffled groan reverberating from Dolly’s chest, the sound is putrid to the ears. Her eyes squint, and her bottom lip thrashes around on the teeth that pierce it, compliments of Misty’s torquing of the wrist. She lifts on the lip, she torques, and pulls, and yanks, and gnashes at her own teeth, wrenching back with one final tear that free’s Dolly’s flesh from her bone.

”-fix it!”

A deep inhale, and an even deeper desire to wail out enters into her lungs, but the toddler bites it away and opens her eyes into her grandmothers.

Misty’s demeanor flips back like a hair trigger, as she's again glowing at her granddaughter. Slowly tilting her head and squatting down to meet Dolly, making her difference in stature more personable. This trembling and bashed little girl, again, is her do-over. Her miracle child. She’ll not be babied the way Dolly’s father was, but she will be loved, with a unique fierceness.

Misty was young when she gave birth to Dolly’s father, Muddy. Young and naive, and even for a brief stint, a bit rebellious. Going against the grain of some of that “fierce” love that she herself endured by the hand of her own father. But being the heir-apparent to a bourbon tycoon laced with old money, and an entire wrestling territory in Kentucky, Misty Waters would come to her senses. She would grow into a shrewd, even manipulative politician both symbolically in her family organizations, and literally in her hometown.

The riches and influence of the Waters family would grow considerably, the hometown was flourishing with jobs, social welfare and development as a result. The only thing that would come to suffer would be Muddy. At least that was Misty’s perception of her boy. After leaving him in the care of gooier nannies, who were inattentive to the Waters way of blistering discipline, Misty would find that while fortifying her dynasty she sacrificed the needs of the boy who would assume it’s stewardship.

But now she has Dolly…

”Dandelions, baby girl.” she says lifting one of the yellow weeds out of Dolly’s overall pocket, hovering it under her granddaughter’s chin, ”Dandelions”, Dandelines, Dolly repeats, the reflection of the weed on her skin giving her a golden, almost angelic glow, especially contrasting the slashing of blue, black and red on her bottom lip. ”Thats closer.” Misty smiles, pulling the dandelion up and tucking it behind Dolly’s ear, batting away a lone tear that snuck from her pupil.

From the unsealed screen door on the veranda, Misty and Dolly hear a ruckus coming from inside of the mansion. A phone ringing, a door knocking, and it’s honestly been a miracle that the homestead of Mayor Waters has been quiet this long. Misty takes Dolly by the hand and leads the limping girl onto the porch. Misty inadvertently knocks the glass of bourbon and tea with her foot. It rolls down the veranda steps and shatters on the pavement, but Misty pays it no mind.
That unique fierceness does little for cleaning up clumsy messes.

…and she’ll be damned if she lets Dolly’s innate clumsiness (a characteristic Misty was always certain came from Muddy’s father’s side) inhibit her newly chosen heir.

An ironic hopefulness for the future occurs within Misty Waters, while she leads the little girl who will grow to be her undoing into the mansion.

Da-Da! Dolly squeals upon entering the chandelier lit foyer of the Southern relic, where posh oil paintings hang between the silver trimmed walls. The mansion is exuberant, not a speck of dust in sight, despite being packed to the brim with antique decor. At the end of the foyer is sixteen year old Muddy Waters, his lean frame dressed in a slummy juxtaposition to the mansion itself. Barefoot with torn up jean shorts. A dingy, food stained tank top tucked into the waistline. He’s just returned home from school. ”Baby-doll!” he cries back with a lively jingle to his southern drawl, crouching down in the middle of the foyer to meet his daughter.

All while the phone continues to ring, and the knock at the door becomes more persistent, Misty observes Dolly’s interactions with Muddy with a keen eye. The sentimental attachment between them is strong, as marked by the way Muddy has her lifted, twirling her in the air as if he hadn’t seen her in ages - it had only been since this morning.

But it’s an attachment that’s perhaps so powerful, that the finer, more important details can be missed.

”BABY-DOLL?!” Muddy shouts with a twisting look of aghast on his face.

Details like a pulpy busted lip.

”What happened to babies face?!” he first asks Dolly, then peeking behind her to view his mother Misty standing at the end of the foyer. She responds with a smug look of infallibility.

Dolwe falled down Da-da. Dolwe falled down. But no tears in the watershed, da-da.

Or the fine details of a more miraculous variety.

”What happened to her?”

Muddy demands, looking up at his mother,

”Oh she’s fine,” Misty brushes past them, ”She’s a helluva lot tougher than you were.” and answers the knock on the mansion front door.

Mayor Waters

A familiar Bronx River cadence,

”Bout time, Heyman. Get in here, I need to answer this phone-”

Leaning there on the lania’s railing, dressed in a plain black suit, baseball cap with a black ponytail, Paul Heyman, yes that Paul Heyman, smiles and hangs up his flip phone.

The cordless phone near the foyer stairs then ceases to ring as Misty reaches for it. She returns a grin to her business associate, charmed by the swagger of his persistence ”How’d the gate do?”, before her shrewd, business-first mentality kicks in.

two-hundred, mam. as in thousands, he says while following Misty inside,

”We took 90 home?”

A buck-ten, mam.

Misty releases a pleasant exhale through her nostrils, bobbing her head with a simple as Misty leads him into the mansion's kitchen, ”I’ve always appreciated that about you, Heyman. Always going that extra mile for the home team.”

Not our best night ever…

”Not our worst one either.”

Paul Heyman is the operations manager for Misty’s professional wrestling territory, The Kentucky Wrestling Alliance, or, KWA for short. At its height, under the leadership of Misty’s father, Pop Waters, the KWA were doing half-a million-dollar gates at the college football stadiums. But the independent wrestling territories have fallen on hard times. Heyman, an already capable mind in the wrestling business, has been trying to reguide the derailing train after studying under the tutelage of Pop Waters for the last eight years.

It should’ve been better, but Freedom Hall isn’t quite filling up any more.

As they’ve stopped on their walk towards the kitchen, Misty makes an almost conceding expression while nodding towards Heyman, agreeing with the decaying state of the KWA in silence, ”Well… I truly do appreciate all yer’ hard work. Daddy did too.” while expressing her gratitude vocally.

Pop was a good man.

Heyman has grown close to the Waters family over the years, but this is his first intimate visit for the better part of two years. Ever since Pop’s sudden death left Heyman with little time outside of running the territory. And when he spots young Muddy packing Dolly up the foyer he’s blown away-

Wow, check out the kid. He looks great. he speaks of the teenager's general physique. Heard you Panthers are planning to be in the State Championship this Fall. he raises his voice to get Muddy’s attention,

Heyman?

Who that, dada?

And would you look at this little splitting image of Misty.

”You’ve not met Dolly Jane yet.”

I certainly haven’t downplaying the amount he was told by Misty, while lowering his shoulders and offering a small handshake. My names Paul Heyman. Dolly becomes deliberately bashful, turning her head to face Muddy and acting as if Heyman is invisible. This gives the long time family friend and business associate a chuckle, Her just bashful. he says rocking his daughter up and down. Where you been at?

Running the territory, son. The territory I wished you were wrestling for.

well the

No- Heyman kindly cuts him off, -no, I know the football thing is coming along great. The newspaper said that you’re going to be one of the best players in the state this season.

”A shame ain’t it?” Misty ear hustles into the conversation,”All of the athleticism in the world-[“/pink] she stalks toward them, [pink]”- just not a lick of grit or fortitude to make it in wrestling. Could’ve been a big star for the KWA.”

The truth was, Muddy showed great promise in the ring. He loved wrestling; just not for his mother. So after three years he gave up training at the age of thirteen.

I’m sure he’ll do just fine in the NFL. Heyman winks and smacks Muddy in the shoulder,Dowee Jangederginia Waters! You no hit dad! Dolly’s face scrunches into a frown while she folds her arms tight. Killing Heyman with her glare. Amused, he chortles, holding at his ribs, What was that, dear? Dolly- what?

My name is Dowee JANE Virginia Waters.

My goodness grabbing at his chest now, and holding out his other hand in a playful act of submission, It is a pleasure to meet you, Dolly Jane-Virginia Waters a pleasant look of stupefied written on his face as he looks back at Misty, You said she’s HOW old?

”eight-” Misty wrestles with the age, ”eighteen months.” That was a lie.

Unbeknownst to Heyman, and unrecognized by Muddy (who doesn’t understand the difference between eighteen months and two and a half years) Dolly was a full year older than her birth certificate claims. It wasn’t an unintentional error, no. Dolly's was the best kept secret in the hollers. And though she was quite advanced for her actual age, there’s still those finer details of the miraculous variety that swarm Dolly. Because the girl was born, and died on November, 1st 2002.

Then the watershed. The rebirth of Dolly Waters.

The premature baby was delivered, her body reduced and afflicted with amphetamine and alcohol. She died just moments after her first breaths. Alive long enough to feel like it might’ve all been a dream. Her mother, unconscious, under arrest. Her father, confused, heartbroken. Mayor Waters, her ‘Meemaw’, contemplating how to cover up the story. Just when she’s decided to threaten the doctor with cutting public funds if any of this were to get out- Misty has an even increased incentive for burying this seedy situation. A miracle occurs. After being pronounced dead for 5 minutes, Dolly breaths again, and this time doesn’t stop.

She’s a sight to behold, so fiery! So intelligent for her age- and look! Heyman says reaching out and touching Dolly’s sheepish face, raising her chin and showing off the busted lip, She can already take a punch. he laughs, Maybe this little one can be the savior of territory wrestling.

Misty looks her granddaughter over, and gives her a warm smile before flicking her fingers through the back of Dolly’s curly hair. ”Oh I doubt it. There probably won’t be a KWA around to save when she’s old enough.”, she admits plainly for the first time, though both she and Heyman knew the writing was on the wall. What about the funding for stadium renovations? Heyman asks, as if to keep the dream alive,

”I’m working on it. But nothing’s been the same since the public found out that wrestling is real.”

I know he nods along in disappointment,

”Giant organizations like the XWF are just swallowing fans and talent up. We don’t have the resources to compete with them. No one does.”

Misty parts from Dolly and Muddy with a kiss on the forehead, goodbyes are said before she and Heyman finally move into the kitchen. A maid is directed to prepare drinks, Heyman declines the alcohol, but takes the tea.

”You’ve meant so much to this family for so long, Heyman.”, Heyman returns a heartfelt sentiment for everything the KWA, and specifically Pop Waters, has done for his career. ”But now might be the time to start looking for a future.” she says, peeking down the foyer still to see Dolly skipping an invisible hopscotch. I don’t know what you mean-

”Maybe your old friends up in New England.” she pulls her gaze up to Heyman

But they’re the reason we’re in this mess.

”Times change, Heyman. Your mind for the wrestling business is second to none. And if yer gonna’ play in this game, why not play in the big leagues?”

Heyman considers the thought, in fact he’s been considering it for a while, he was just waiting for Misty to come out and say it. He had already turned down lucrative offers from various wrestling organizations, and even big name wrestlers themselves.

”And who knows?” she pastes her eyes onto her granddaughter again, ”Maybe yer future is even closer than you thought.”




You know my Meemaw Misty, dont’cha?

Eleven Twelve year old Dolly Waters sits in a sweat that’s long been cooled and drying, leaning forward from a folding chair in Castle Morbidonia’s training gym. Near the weight benches, along the stoned walls of the castle’s foundation, Morbid Angel watches Dolly engage in conversation, his tattooed arms folded in curiosity.

Oh, uh, Misty? Very little, actually. Paul Heyman, yes that Paul Heyman, shakes his head from a folding chair sat opposite of Dolly in the middle of the gym’s wrestling ring. I knew your great grandfather a lot better.

Pop-pop.

Heh, right. Pop-pop. He was an exceptional man. Helluva wrestler in his day too.

Are you sure- she draws out, -you didn’t work for Meemaw? the point of emphasis is important to Dolly. She didn’t know what her future between the ropes held, but she knew that it couldn’t involve her grandmother Misty.

Times changed, and there was a schism with the Waters. Muddy fled home with Dolly after highschool, once some horrible revelations about Misty were brought to light. This didn’t stop Misty from being involved in Dolly’s life however, using her resources and influence to gain custody of her granddaughter a short time after. Obviously that relationship deteriorated, given Dolly’s persistence in being assured that Misty is nowhere in sight.

I haven’t seen your Meemaw in at least ten years.

Dolly turns over her shoulder to make eye contact with Morbid Angel the former XWF Universal Champion who became first Dolly's impromptu babysitter, and now her trusted guardian and wrestling mentor. Dolly looks at the wild satanist for his judgment of Heyman’s character. Morbid shrugs his face.

Well, Morby did say that you were one of the best in the business.

Dolly, let me be square with you. I’ve worked for the XWF in the highest of capacities, managing an entire brand. I know what it takes to succeed there, and I can take you to the top of the mountain. But let me be honest about something-

Dolly bends her neck and lifts her brow in curiosity,

-I’d be lying if I didn't admit that your last name is exactly why I’m offering you my services. Heck, it’s why I signed your father on Madness, despite his lack of experience.

he leans in for a touch of personability, relaxing his tone even

I remember watching your dad wrestle as a kid.

Dolly’s interest piques her face while Heyman nods through,

It’s true, before he gave it up the first time. I’ve seen your Meemaw wrestle, your great grandfather, and all of his brothers. Wrestling is second nature for your family, and I believe above any and all of them, that you have the most potential.

Okay, so you manage my career. What’s in it fer you?

Being candid: Everything! I know the ascension you make is going to make me the hottest commodity in all of professional wrestling.

Dolly looks happily taken aback by Heyman’s self interest admission,

But by signing you, a child, as my client, I’m risking thirty years of reputation in this business. If we fail, everything is also on the line for me. But you won’t fail. That’s how confident I am in what you’re capable of achieving.

Dolly pops to her feet, and glides her way across the ring canvass to where Heyman is seated, extending a handshake.

Mister Heyman,

The two standing now, shaking hands,

Please. Call me Heyman.

Heyman, we have a deal.

A slick grin runs across his face, as he stands over the glowing bite-sized warrior, knowing damn well the payday he just signed up for.

And an even slicker grin runs across his face moments later. While exiting Castle Morbidonia, stepping into his parked SUV under nightfall.

Misty…

He speaks into his cell phone,

...I’ve got her.

Now

May... 2022

A random thought occurs.

Corey?

Hm? He raises his eyebrows, but not his eyes from the road.

Do you remember why Heyman gave you back your briefcase before Relentless?

Turning from the highway, and onto the exit leading to Coreytopia, Dolly’s best friend and roommate makes a certain face. You know I- a face like he never gave it a second thought, I don’t really remember. It all happened so fast, and I was still fuzzy in the head from all the-

The blunt trauma to the head?

Yeah, all of the fun stuff. Dolly lets out a fun little snicker, as Corey considers the question again, as if he’s really trying hard to remember, ...why did he give me that briefcase? Dolly tilts her head from the passenger window and watches Corey scanning his memory It just seemed like he really wanted to me to beat Thad.

Suspicious how some fates in the XWF seem woven together like threads through a tapestry

In his first match managing Dolly Waters, Paul Heyman would lead her to a Television Championship win.

Four years later, Heyman would also manage “The Collector”Thaddeus Duke to a Television Championship win… at Leap of Faith no less the curious.

So, are y’all cool now?

She asks, knowing that Corey knows who she’s referring to,

I mean… yeah? We’re fine. We just don’t talk everyday. Not like we used to.

Heh. Neither do we.

Who?

Me and Thad. Me and you.

Corey sighs, ...yeah- and stretches his features Times have changed, Dolly.

He pulls the vehicle towards the commune gates, where a swarm of media has gathered to interview Dolly about her upcoming match against Thaddeus Duke at Leap of Faith. Ha! Yeah. The media actually comes here to talk to me now, and not you.

Well, after you beat Thad, you’ll be the last of us in XWF. The Trinity he means, So you might as well get used to it.

Forever

Three.
Two..

One...

Thaddeus Duke…

It’s been a long road, and now’s time to say goodbye, my friend.

But before we get started I want to make something clear to the millions of you watching this at home, and I want to make it especially clear to you ,Thad: This-

She points her index finger to the floor of the promo booth several times over

-this is the most important match of my life.

If you ask me, this is the most important match on the entire Leap of Faith card.

And despite now that our T.V. time has been cut, due to circumstances TOTALLY befitting this fight, in my mind, if you ask Dolly Waters, THIS is the most important match in the history of professional wrestling.

This match is so important to me that I’ll even grant the silver lining here, compliments of yer warring and whoring ways; at least now our promos will air when no one else's are.

It deserves that attention. Because at Leap of Faith, an entire era ends at my hand.

Not just any era, but OUR era, Thad.

Look around you. As much as you’ll claim that there are no new challenges here, no competition to push you, no rivalries to build, no accolades of any meaning, I can barely find a semblance of our era gracing this fine federation anymore. Yet you talk like we’ve just been beating up on the same people for years.

Thad, “our era” is finished, and it’s marked specifically by this watershed moment: You leaving the XWF. That’s what's at the heart of this fight, that’s what is at stake in this fight.

I’m not so naive to not anticipate yer’ words Thad, even if you dress them with incongruent tones, and euphemisms and every: i dOn’T rEaLlY MEaN WhAt i sAiD’s as humanly possible- you said it all loud and clear during yer’ match against Alias. You’ve been quietly saying it for a long time.

The XWF has nothing to offer you anymore. The Kidos, The Vaughns, The Banes, The Nelsons, this entire new crop of talent backfilling the roster, they’re not worthy of yer’ attention?

No, because you’ve already climbed the mountain, and now yer’ just simply bored huh? Maybe if we had a greater presence of company signed THOT cunts on Twitter, yer’ engagement wouldn’t be so dwindling.

That’s the problem though, and that’s what’s going to be facing you down at Leap Of Faith:

Dolly Waters in the most important match of her life, versus Thad Duke who’s just here to say goodbye.

Dolly pauses and breathes, shutting her eyes for a moment, thinking on career in the XWF, the fleeting highs, the perpetual lows, and why this match means something different. Why this match is more than a result, why this match will be more than just another victory as it would be for her opponent.

Are you gonna’ tell em’ Thad? Are you going to introduce the audience to the low hanging fruit that they’ve been tasting for years? You gonna’ dress it up with all of the passive aggressive undertones befitting a true sociopath, or are you going to come straight out and say it?

Dolly Waters is unreliable. Dolly Waters has never reached the mountain. Dolly Waters gets going when the going gets tough.

Sing it to the heavens my friend, because at Leap Of Faith it won’t matter anymore, and you’ll finally have to face me down - - - the way you should’ve had to face me at Relentless Noir.

You see this match means more to me than you can imagine, and admittedly-so for all of those frothy reasons you could mention. My in and out nature with this company. My constant failures.

Dolly’s reborn
Dolly ascends
Dolly collapses
Always.

It’s a viscous fucking cycle, especially when yer’ left to deal with those watershed moments all alone.

Because unlike you Thad, it’s not like I ever had the biggest supporting cast when it comes to management or peers within the XWF. Certainly no Hall of Legends namesake, no Uncle Theo cleaning up the messes, and certainly no “Good” Doctors carrying my loads. When I first entered the company, I was a thirteen year old girl making grown men -and the executives who were signing their paychecks- look even less than inadequate. Allies were hard to come by.

You know who I had in my corner back then? Paul Heyman. Yes that Paul Heyman. Which you of all people should know isn’t the most trustworthy. Paul Heyman led me on a nearly undefeated streak, A Star and Promo of the month accolade, Television and Hart Championship run, and then he left me like a fart in the wind all within my first months of lacing up my boots.

Then you come along, Thad.

You helped me out of that prison in Indonesia. I didn’t even know you, and here you were reaching out a hand with nothing expected in return. You were ready to make yer’ Dolly-inspired-debut in the XWF, and you were certain that I should enter Lethal Lottery 4.

I fought my ass off in that tournament. HALF of the matches while wearing a costume and stilt-boots while waiting for legal troubles of the “PED Scandal” to be sorted. I dumped all of my heart and ability into that tournament. I didn’t run from a damn thing, I didn’t hide from a challenge, and I fought until the bitter end. But I just came up short of that briefcase.

And I didn’t go anywhere when the man on the mountain was clearly not going to be me. Unlike yer' doing now because: LOLCaedusALIASWINS. No, I stayed put only to have Michael…

She pauses for a moment, swallowing down a dryness in the back of her throat,

Michael Graves.

She gets the name out and then stares at the camera, blinking through the hellish memories before continuing,

I stayed put only to have that insanity unleashed upon me. In all my youth, in all my inability to think straight, in the trauma that I had just experienced- YOU, Thad, come to me with a solution:

What if I superkick your head off, steal your XTreme Championship, and then go infiltrate AX3 to get closer to Graves, and then I’ll betray them at your behest.


Okay. Now what could go wrong with that?

But I don’t hold it against you, Thad.

You were just trying to help. You were the ONLY one trying to help. We were dumb kids left to our own devices. Yours was playing Super-cool War Spy Hero man, and mine was hot boxing packs of cigarettes between nosebleeds, trying to not have a complete mental breakdown.

Do you hold it against me?

Of course you do…

Just like everyone else does: Offer em’ that low hanging fruit. Tell em’ I’mma flake. But Thad, my friend, be mindful when biting into these peaches. Know that the fruits of our entire past together lay at stake at Leap Of Faith. The fight that should’ve been last September.

We always dreamed about what “could’ve” been between us Thad. We’d bounce in and out of the XWF at different times. Early twenty-nineteen I came back, but you were busy playing with the prospects of a different company. I became the March Madness runner up to Sarah Lacklan.

Rebirth
Ascension
Collapse Graves
Always.

But then it all finally came together, when I returned at the end of twenty-twenty. Paul Heyman had led you to the Universal Championship, you were Tag Team Champions with Dawk, you even brought Corey in to free bird the belts, and by May last year, you and I couldn’t have been closer.

Though I have to admit, it often felt like you were just trying to get into my pants. But I knew our love, our history and our friendship meant more than that - - - didn’t it?

So I always chalked it up to you being a hopeless romantic.

Heh.

Romance…

While staring into the camera, Dolly's eyes drift somewhere else. Somewhere visceral and abused. Her face runs cold, her arms dropped dead to her sides. Her breathing intensified. The breathing is the only thing piercing this numb flesh.

The camera loses focus, and without warning Dolly grabs at the sides of her hair, tugging and screaming. The boomstick falls into our view, the camera shifts entirely to a different angle. The scream ends but seems to echo everywhere.


A young producer runs into the shot. He reaches a hand onto Dolly’s shoulder who shudders away from the touch, hyperventilating and darting her eyes up and down his features.

fine. I’m fine. she growls.

Dolly flattens her tone, and her cold glare, directing them both back to the camera.

Where was I? Oh…

May last year.

Leap Of Faith.

We were close, Thad. I was cutting out hella time on the commune to spend time with you. We were this team that we always wanted to be, Corey included of course. Your feelings for me were bleeding over into every television set across the globe. But when I had to come face to face with Graves last year, one last time, to finally heal from that “romance”- what happened?

Thad was off on Twitter recruiting new girlfriends-

I’m sorry, Adi.

-All before deciding to implode the very faction that housed our team together. Your heart wasn’t in it anymore. Too busy trying to everything that Tweets, and preparing to prove you can’t defeat Mark Flynn.

Welcome to the club. Although I suppose you didn’t technically lose to him, though a tie is only as good as…

Dolly puckers and kisses her lips together,

Kissin’ yer sister… she winks with no extra emote,

That's what you chose, brother. When I tried challenging you -when coming out of WarGames I could’ve had any match I damn well pleased- you ducked me for a No Contest call with Flynn.

Duke v. Dolly was what the fans wanted, it’s what WE needed, it was the only fight that made sense, and instead I was sacrificed to that lunatic Jim Caedus in a baredwire deathmatch.

I tear my knee all to hell, heal up, and return again and now… you’re leaving? Leaving a parting little smooch from the gatekeeper for old times sake?

Well not without me kicking yer’ ass first, my friend.

Go ahead, throw on that façade of charm and discredit. Tell the world that this match against me means nothing. Tell it to all the fans who’ve followed along with the five years of our woven careers. Tell them it means nothing.

Remind them that the person who made my ‘Running Waters’ finishing move a staple of their repertoire, doesn’t think much about the prospects of facing Dolly Waters.

Tell them that you’ve outshined me, outgrown me, yet never could leave me quite behind. Tell em’ that you’ve sung my praises, and publicly wished for my return to the ring because I’m insignificant. Tell them whatever you wish, Thad, but know that either or, it only leads to two outcomes:

1. That you were scared to face Dolly Waters
2. That you only wanted to use Dolly Waters as some sick validation to yer’ manwhoring phase.

The conclusions don’t have to be mutually exclusive either.

So where this match against you is the most important one of not just my career, but my life, for you it’s just a chore. An unfulfilled duty on a dying contract that you don’t have the heart to resign.

Why else would you so gladly accept my challenge now? Now that I’m on the medical mend? Now that you get to finally sidestep the coward claims, and have yer’ long awaited ass kicking compliments of moi, when you’ve already got one foot out the door? Nice cover.

This is where it all lies in the difference between me and you, Thad.

I truly DO love you.

And it breaks my heart to see that yer' heart isn't in it anymore. That’s why this match means so much to me. Fuck yer wars. Fuck yer' Twitter cybersex cliques. This is about our lives and careers together, how they’ve affected one another.

I’m carrying all of that into the ring with me, all of that history, all of that trauma. I’m carrying our entire story. I’ve been carrying it all in my heart this entire time. Because I recognize that this is the final chapter of our era. Dawk’s dead, Corey’s gone, Thad’s leaving and now only Dolly is left after the watershed.

Then. Now. Forever. Always.

Always Dolly.

I’m going to put every ounce of my ability, my cunning, my fire, my spark of the trails-blazed that you were once inspired to follow, and I’m going to tell you goodbye, Thad, the only way that I know how:

By putting you out on yer' back at Leap Of Faith.

A lighthearted, yet grungie melody tunes up, as Dolly begins harmonizing over the instruments while the promo fades:

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