I watched the carnage and chaos unfold with callous contempt coursing through my veins. With my arms crossed and my face unpainted, I wasn't performing for any lucha fans tonight: and by the looks of this match, Dionysus and Angie weren't either! Vaughn may have been the "superstar" of the month, but she certainly wasn't proving herself LUCHAstar of the Month! And this "Dionysus" wasn't any more impressive. I leaned over to HGH with a clear look of disgust splashed across my face.

"This is caca! These two are making a mockery of lucha libre! Wine bottles only have one place in lucha, and that's at our victory parties!"

HGH chuckled softly as he looked away from the CCTV cameras set up in the security room of his vineyard.

"Look, these jackasses are setting themselves up to play a part in a stage play they can't even begin to understand. This wrestling stipulation might look like backyard carnie horseshit to you, but that shadowy Bastard taught me to look at situations differently. To me, this looks like our next opportunity!"

"What on earth are you talking about?"

I stomp my feet impatiently as I press HGH to explain himself.

"The XWF can’t afford to repair all the damage they're doing to my cellar, and that means they're going to owe me big time, and by extension: you. See, it's just like your daddy probably told you: teaming up with the million dollar megamind has perks!"

Harmon hands me a pre-fabricated documentation of the extensive damages incurred to his wine cellar. The subtotal at the bottom almost makes my eyes pop out of my skull!

"Those cheap fucks won't pay, but I bet they'll let a TV champion pay the price for them!"

I smirk at Harmon before returning his “extensive documentation” of the wine cellar damages. I’m still not sure what deal was struck to bring Harmon into the fold, but I certainly have no complaints. I’ve known him to be a talented in-ring technician ever since our first impromptu tag-team match on Anarchy years ago: but now, I was beginning to see everything HGH could bring to the table. He had a clever mind for schemes, and enough resources to go around.

I keep that smirk glued to my face as I turn my gaze back to the CCTV footage. I watch the action closely, scouting each competitor for any sign of weakness. And golly, there sure are a lot of signs to keep track of! Angie thinks outside the box so much, I'm starting to think she doesn't know where the box is or why most people stay inside of it! She's always pushing the envelope of what professional lucha can be, even if she doesn't realize it. No wonder the people had become such big fans of her, but to real professional luchadoras like me, Angie's TV run had been a slap in the face to the business. A total farce masquerading as the combat sport we love, that's all this wine cellar match was.

"Uughhhhhh..."

I groaned when I saw Dionysus go retrieve his medieval weaponry. He was twice Angie's size, but resorting to such cheap tricks proved that size wasn't everything. He lost to Angie fair and square the first time around, and watching him in action I understood why. He didn't use his strength to its full potential, he was holding back. Maybe he just didn't like to see blood, but I could tell that his punches lacked a true weight behind them. I figured he was probably the same way on the microphone. 

"I’m not sure who those punches hurt more, Dionysus or Angie! It looks like his shoulder is killing him out there."

I cock a curious eyebrow at the comment. As I watched closer, I saw what my new ally meant. Dionysus seemed to have a lingering injury in his right shoulder, and when you’re in the ring with a submission expert like me, that usually spells death. I grinned as the injured man finally put the SuperFlavor of the Month down for a three count.

"And down goes the champion! A shame, I was looking forward to seeing you put her in a MACHINA LOCK! Awww well, I guess you’ll have to beat this red-pubed cunt instead. Honestly that’s probably easier."


"I'm just grateful I won't have to deal with whatever awful stipulation Angie would have picked!"

I winked at Harmon as he began preparing his pre-arranged ‘monetary damage report’ for display to the camera.

"Just watch and learn, because -this- is How Greatness Happens!"

HGH smirked before he ducked out the door and headed down towards the cellar. I rolled my eyes at him before turning back to the security monitors and staring intently at the CCTV footage. Coursing through the different camera feeds, I eyed the new TV champion up and down from every possible angle. Dionysus was a dangerous cat and I wasn't going to underestimate him, but I knew in my heart of hearts that I would have the advantage when our paths crossed.









I sit in the back of a crowded dive bar, completely clouded by cigarillo smoke. I practically hack up a lung, I've never been able to stand the scent of marihuana, but of course this bastard doesn't care! He leans back into the shadows of the booth as he takes another puff of his "good stuff". Like some sort of human cockroach, he always clings to the darkness of those engulfing shadows.

"I told you Robyn, this was all going to work out if they just stick to my plan. And so far, those boys are stuck like glue!"

"Stuck to your juevos maybe."

He flashed a sneer in my direction before taking another puff.

"You just need to go out there and do your part next Warfare. We don't want a repeat of that Sidney Grey “situation”. Fuck, I set up all those pawns and did all this grand maneuvering just for you to fucking lose."

He blew more smoke in my direction: but to call it 'blunt' would be an understatement. I bit my tongue as I turned to the side, ashamed of myself and embarrassed by this utter degradation. But I swallowed my pride, because little did this bastard know this was all part of MY plan, and I only had to tolerate him for a little while longer. I turned back with a bitter tone in my voice.

"It was a bad call from the zebras! It was arbitro mierda!"

The human cockroach put his cigarillo out on the tabletop, like some sort of uncivilized brute.

"Just don't let it happen again, capeesh?"

I roll my eyes and look off into the distance.

"You hearing me, girly?"

This bastard snaps his fingers at me before I snap at him.

"I know what I need to do! Don't treat me like some kid, okay? This match is my chance to become an XWF Campeona across THREE DIVISIONS- so I'm going to give it everything I have!"

"I don't want "everything you have"! I want you to win. Should I have the THUGs jump this son of a bitch before the match to even the odds for you?"

"It's no use, this guy has more clones than the Galactic Republic! If you take one out, they'll just send out another goofy ginger.

He snorted. I see his grimy smile poking through the shadows, and truthfully the sight of those broken yellow teeth disgusted me.

"That's a good line, you should put that in your next promo!"

I raise my hand in objection.

"Gracias but no gracias. I appreciate the enthusiasm but that's not my style. I'm a serious luchadora, on the microphone and in the ring! I respect the lucha business, so when it's time for lucha, I'm all business."

He nods his head in approval.

"Taking lessons from HGH already!"

"No that's not what I me-"

That's when I realize this chucklefuck is messing with me for his own twisted amusement. I roll my eyes in annoyance.

"Let's just be serious, okay? Enough of your jokes for tonight. This is a major opportunity not just for me, but for everyone on Thursday nights! I have a chance to go out there and prove once and for all that Anarchy isn't an afterthought but THE PREMIERE PLACE for lucha libre!"

"Who gives a FUCK about ANARCHY?! This is about Me-uh-US!"

I raise a skeptical eyebrow at his Freudian slip. I don't trust this bastard, I know he’s using me just like I’m using him.

"About who now?"

"I mean, about YOU! Just like I’ve been saying ever since April! It’s about building your career up and giving you all the tools I never had."

"Uh huh…and that’s what you told HGH and the THUGS?"

"Don’t worry about what I told them! Just know that I’m making all this happen for you, Robyn, to make up for all the times I wasn’t there for you."

I stare through all the smoke he’s blowing, right into his glassy eyes. I know this bastard has an ulterior motive, but even if he didn’t I would never forgive him. Not because of what he didn’t do for me, but because of what he did to mi madre. Ruining her lucha career and then abandoning her with a child, only to show up 20 years later and desecrate her funeral: those wounds could never be mended.

"Don’t worry about the past, we need to focus on my future as the next TV Campeona! A healthy reign with that belt and I’ll be competing for the universal championship again in no time!"

"Now you're talking that shit I like to hear! But take it from me, holding that TV title is harder than it fucking looks. Think you're up for weekly defense against anyone and everyone the XWF can throw acha’?"

"You're asking the wrong questions. The real question should be, is the TV division ready for ME? That division has turned into a cesspool of lowbrow idiocy. I mean seriously, matches inside wine cellars? Connect four? Two-time Campeones like Dionysus? That garbage division makes me want to turn the 'TV' off! I'm going to bring real prestige back to that belt. There will be REAL LUCHA LIBRE, every week, on primetime TV when I'm Campeona!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself now, dear."

I suppress a sneer as he condescends me yet again. I remind myself that soon, I won't need him for anything anymore. But for now, I had to keep wringing this bastard out for every ounce of value I could.









Our Latina Submission Machina stands in the middle of a dark space, illuminated only by the singular spotlight shining down upon her. She lifts her gaze from the floor to stare directly into the camera. The sequins sewn to her lucha gear sparkle under the bright lights, just like this luchadora herself does, time and time again!

"The ball is in your court, Señor Campeón. The choice of our match stipulation is all up to you and your clones."

That's when three more spotlights shine down from the rafters. We see three more "LSM"s standing in V formation behind Robyn Gonzalez, and with the added lighting we can tell they are standing inside a wrestling ring!

"Challenging me to a submission match proves you don’t have a single brain cell between the four of you. Challenging me to anything else proves the four of you combined don’t have enough spine to take me on at my own game. So which will you choose to be next Weekend, Dionysus? Will you choose to be STUPID, or will you choose to be a COWARD?"

One of the background “LSM”s can’t help but to smirk as she watches Robyn’s clever approach. The real LSM steps forward as she pounds a finger into her sternum. 

"My name alone inspires fear and wonder. It expresses my modus operandi perfectly, so you know exactly what you're going to get when you step into the ring with me. Yet still, everyone is always blown away when they witness my excellence in person.

And your name tells your whole story too, Señor Campeón. Dionysus. A cheap impostor, a fool’s wiseman, a substanceless charlatan who covers up his gaping emptiness with bellicose verbosity! The ancient Greek philosopher Dionysus only became famous for plucking the feathers out of chickens and parading them around as men. While intellectual heavyweights like Plato and Socrates made incredible strides in the humanities, Dionysus will forever be known as a cheap side-character, nothing but a comic foil to the true philosophers of talent.

In much the same way, our Señor Campeón will only go down in XWF history as a two-time joke. A foil to the true prospects, like myself and Angie Vaughn- he’s nothing more than enhancement talent. I even heard a rumor that Dionysus is the kind of Campeón who 'takes losing well', I heard him say it himself. That's good, because we need losers like Dionysus in this business. He's the 'b-side' of the card, who exists to be beaten and abused by the true elites of our industry. Dionysus is the kind of steady loser you can put real stock in! So if he feels good about each and every loss he takes, that's all the better! It means he'll stick around longer and help elevate the young talent on the roster, talent like ME."

LSM grins as all of her “clones” make taunting gestures towards the camera.

"Do you know why a steady loser like you will never last as the TV champion, Dionysus?

Because you're not a wrestler who HAS clones, you're a wrestler who IS a clone! You talk the talk like every other generic “buen chico” who passes through these halls. You probably called your tag team Chardonnay because after one glass it was hard to tell who was who! You all sounded the same, and even worse, you all luchó like you went to the same three week starter course!

But me?

I'm truly unique. 1 of 1, often imitated but never replicated- let alone duplicated!"

LSM turns around and sneers at her look-alikes before she shoos them away. Their spotlights are redirected to LSM as the look-alikes are forced to make ungrateful exits from the ring. 

"You chicas may look the part but you could never fill my shoes! You don't deserve to share this ring with me! I am Anarchy's FINEST- ever, of all time!"

LSM turns back to the camera with a bitchy smirk.

"And I've barely hit my 20s. Imagine how decorated I'll be in a decade, when I'm wrinkled and injured like Dionysus! I've seen the way your right shoulder moves, that internal pain everytime you throw a punch- you should already know I'm going to paint a bullseye on your shoulder next Warfare- that is, unless you wisen up and send a clone to lose in your place! Save yourself some embarrassment and humiliation. That's a smart move, especially if you don't want to end up like the other half of your expired Chardonnay!"

The mean-streaked luchadora stretched a grin from ear to ear as she laid in her deepest blows yet.

"Don't you remember what mi Padre did to your amigo? One Devil Hook dropped Blondie back to the indies! Surely you don't want to share his fate. Mi familia is just cut from a different caliber of cloth than you and your ilk. We go in for the kill, we're just machines inside lucha rings- it must be in our blood, in our genetic code. It's in our swagger, in our confidence, in the way we move and the way we MAKE moves.

I will bring a level of technique and finesse to the TV division that clumsy oaf could never even dream of, let alone appreciate! After I strip Dionysus of whatever manhood he has left on Warfare, he should just sit back and watch as I take that belt to levels of greatness not seen in years. I'm going to make the TV division THE division in lucha libre, across all promotions and weight classes!

Some people might say I’m getting ahead of myself, but some people debe atragantarse con una bolsa de pollas! Dionysus doesn’t bring anything to the table that I lack. He might have size, but in this business my name is still bigger! And that's what really counts when the lights are brightest and the pressure is highest! I bring so much to the table that it might collapse before I get the chance to Frogsplash him through it! I bring LFL speed and athleticism to the table. I bring black belts in jiu jitsu and muay thuai to the table. And most importantly, I bring the heart of a legendary luchadora with me everywhere I go!

Seriously, this gingerbreaded oaf has no chance of defending his title against me on Warfare. Does Dionysus even know what a kimura is?! He might be able to Google it in time for his next promo, but I promise you, 1 week won't be enough time to master the defense! That shoulder is as good as mine, you gringo gingerino! You might know how to do suplexes and crosslocks, but don't color me impressed. The XWF is the big leagues, those small-time moves won't get you far against home-run hitters like me! If you let me snatch one of your limbs I will end the match right then and there, no matter what stipulation you choose!"

LSM crosses her arms across her chest as the camera zooms in on her face.

"Come next Warfare, Dionysus, we're going to make another clone- together, as a team. We're going to clone your last run with the TV campeonato because you won't be defending CACA!"

Robyn rolls her head back with vicious mockery as the camera fades to black.