OOC: This was co-written with Dolly Waters



Every time I think about this part of the story, I can’t help but laugh.



...now where were we? Oh, that’s right. Things were about to get weird.

The day after Dolly Waters, and the Latina Submission Machina, Robyn Gonzalez met at a hospital in Monie, Illinois the two had to go their separate ways. Maybe not the best start for a team after all. But nonetheless both of these little ladies seemed earnest about their intentions of helping one another.

Dolly gave Robyn some basic in-ring advice. The majority of it was nothing Robyn hadn't heard before. Especially studying under the tutelage of her world-class luchadoras madre. But there was one thing that Dolly said that Robyn hadn’t considered before.

You need to be the ring.

Now what in the world did that mean? Sounds sort of cliche. Or just downright made-up. But after suffering a defeat in her very first match the night before on the XWF Warfare program, she didn’t have much of a turnaround before wrestling again. So she was willing to try anything. Robyn took that thought of “being the ring” with her on an eleven hour drive. To some little hole called Charlottesville, Virginia. Maybe you’ve heard of it. It’s not the world’s most accommodating place, especially for women of color like Robyn, and especially considering the type of audience that gathered to watch this show.

You see, during this time the XWF program called Anarchy, the show Robyn was going to be competing on, had been commandeered by a quasi-wrestling organization called the bWo. You remember that Vincent Lane feller from earlier in the story? The XWF owner who was caught bumping uglies with a young lady? Well, Vincent had surrendered the Anarchy program over to the young woman he was accused of taking advantage of... Miss Fury.

Helluva name, right?

Fury had no use for the handle given to her by her parents, which was Ashley, or Britt, or Becky or something basic like that, because Fury was a rebel. A dissident. A contrarian of what had become the new, more politically correct, “normal” for the wrestling industry. Fury had been using the platform of Anarchy to push a more risque product onto the television. Harcore wrestling matches with no rules. Blood and guts. Advertisements for pornography syndicates. Discounted beer in the audience which kept the fans rabid and confrontational. All of this made Anarchy a very toxic environment, especially for a relative newcomer like Robyn.

But Robyn persisted. She wasn’t going to let any of these obstacles stand in her way of going out there and working as hard as she possibly could to finally taste victory as a professional wrestler. With the dream of living up to her mother’s glory, and the encouragement from her new partner-to-be, Dolly Waters, Robyn was focused, and confident. Booked in a tag team match and partnered up with another rookie like herself, a blue-blood type of guy named Harmon Grayson Hayes.

They were set to square off against two of Fury’s bWo fan-favorites. An anti-vaxxer jungle boy named Edward Jr, and your run of mill generic bad-guy named Elijah Martin, who was just light-skinned enough to pass for an Italian man. The racists never seem to mind the Italians so much. Must be the long standing sympathy to European fascism.

Anyway, the match was underway. The fans were bloodthirsty, screaming and hurling trash at Robyn and her tag partner. Things were going bad… real bad.

LSM looked on with a cringe on her face as HGH took blow after blow and slam after slam. LSM had been cooped up in her corner for most of the match, with Junior and Martin taking turns working on HGH. LSM started pounding her hand on the turnbuckle pad as she tried to hype the crowd up behind HGH. As she looked out into the crowd she saw nothing but red MAGA hats and bloodthirsty howls. LSM dejectedly returned her hands to the ropes as she sighed softly.

“BE the ring…..BE the ring…..”

LSM began muttering to herself under her breath as he shook her head from side to side.

“BE. THE. RING.”

LSM began speaking louder to herself as she looked back at the action in the squared circle with a renewed vigor. Edward Junior was slapping HGH around in the corner as Elijah Martin looked on with a big ol’ smirk.

“BE. THE. RRRRRIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGGGGGGG!”

LSM started to run the length of the ringside apron! She sprinted away from her corner and turned the corner turnbuckle. It only took her two more seconds to spin around another corner, and she was now barrelling full steam towards the corner where Elijah and Edward were smacking HGH around relentlessly. They’re having so much fun smacking HGH that they don’t even notice LSM charging full steam at them alongside the apron!

BOOM!

LSM rounds that third corner and immediately knocks Elijah Martin unconscious with a savage kick to the back of his unsuspecting skull! The force of the boot forces Elijah’s skull forward where it slams against Edward’s forehead! Junior immediately collapses to the mat from the skull-on-skull impact!

“¡YO SOY EL MALDITO ANILLO!”

As the two opps go flailing to the ground LSM continues to sprint around the ringside apron until she’s back to her proper tag position! As LSM is sprinting back to her corner HGH is slowly crawling her way. It takes him a good few seconds to drag himself across the ring, but eventually…..

HGH makes the hot tag! LSM jumps over the top rope and into the ring! She charges straight towards Edward Junior who is now pulling himself to his feet. As Junior steps forward he is immediately caught in LSM’s finishing maneuver- THE MACHINA ROLL!


1




2




3!



[bwo] Winners by Pinfall - LSM & HGH [/bwo]

When the bell rang, Robyn walked over to Harmon and helped him stand to his feet. The two impromptu tag partners stood in the middle of the ring so that the referee could raise their hands in victory. Robyn had expected a standing ovation from the crowd- instead, most of them decided to use this break in the action to go get another beer from the concessions stand.

After the referee let go of their hands Harmon and Robyn ducked out of the ring and began walking up the entrance ramp, back toward the gorilla position. Robyn offers a bunch of high fives to the crowd on her way up the ramp, but none of them seem very interested in appreciating her efforts.

“GO BACK TO MEXICO, BITCH!”

“TAKE THAT MASK OFF! COVID ISN’T REAL!”

“YOU LOOK LIKE A WHORE!”

Robyn withdrew her hand as she curled her upper lip. But at least Harmon was there to try and encourage her,

“Don’t worry about these idiots- most of them are going to be out on their asses when the eviction moratorium ends!”

Robyn cocked a curious eyebrow at Harmon but didn’t quite grasp the cruel American politics being referenced. The pair stepped through the entrance tunnel and into the backstage area. The duo shook hands and complemented the in-ring prowess of one another.

As Harmon started to walk back towards his privately purchased locker room, Robyn began rifling through the green duffel bag she left in the gorilla position before the match. She pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number that was dear to her heart. It took more than a few seconds, but eventually the phone clicked as someone picked up on the other end.

“¿Qué pasa?”

“Madre! Madre! Did you see? I just got my first win!”

“What? When? We’re still on the commercial break.”

“What do you mean? I just had my match!”

“Eh? The program still isn’t on...oh, here it comes! It’s coming back on now!”

“They’re probably going to show my match now!”

Robyn held the cellphone against her ear as a wrestler named Calypso walked past her in the gorilla position. The bald, frail man ducked through the entrance ramp as Robyn eagerly waited for her mom to see what just happened inside the XWF Anarchy Ring.

“Are you seeing it? Are you seeing it?”

“I’m seeing a small, bald man walk out to the ring. Is that your partner?”

“A small….bald…..”

Robyn immediately glances at the entrance ramp that Calypso just waltzed through.

“NO! That’s the match after mine! My match was before the bald man’s!”

“I didn’t see it. Are you sure it’s before the bald man’s?”

“Yes, madre, I’m sure! I just wrestled! The bald man fights after me!”

“Oh honey.”

“Did you miss my match during a bathroom break?”

“No, sweetie! I’ve been right here since the show started, sitting in that plushy recliner you bought for me!”

“My match should’ve just aired….”

“It wasn’t on the TV, dear.”

Robyn was crushed again, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing from her mother. Now, unbeknownst to either of them, Miss Fury had deliberately cut Robyn’s match from the broadcast. Instead she was airing replays of this feller named Centurion beating up his wife Ruby, in a match she had orchestrated a few weeks prior. Fury’s wrestling organization, the bWo, and her posse of wrestlers, the Baddies, had been taking a beating lately. She didn’t want to risk exposing any further that the bWo “Emporeress” was streaking in her birthday suit.

Robyn and her mother exchanged loving salutations before Robyn tucked the phone back into her duffel bag. Robyn wrapped the bag’s strap over her shoulder and started to take a step forward when she noticed a hulking figure out of the corner of her eye. When she turned her neck to catch a better glimpse of the massive man, her gaze was immediately drawn towards the glistening gemstones decorating the gold around his waist. They damn near sparkled in the light.

It took Robyn a couple seconds of lifting her gaze up from the man’s bedazzled waist to actually set her eyes on his all-too-recognizable face. The man’s 6-foot-8-inch frame was no joke and the 326 pounds listed on his roster sheet almost seemed a cruel joke. Money Oswald was, without a doubt, an absolute mammoth of a man. Robyn recognized the man from her scouting reports, but 6’8” looks a whole lot smaller on paper than in real life.

Robyn’s gaze was fixated on Oswald, but he didn’t even notice her. He was too busy chumming it up with his pals to pay any mind to the small latina women staring at him from some twenty-odd feet away.

‘He’s literally twice my size, maybe three times my size…..” Robyn thought to herself as she gave Oswald an ocular patdown. Robyn couldn’t help but feel intimidated at the notion of squaring off against someone so much larger than her- so much larger than damn near anyone else. ‘That Billion Dollar Championship belt hangs around his waist for a reason…...and if Centurion’s not careful, the Anarchy belt might be next…..’

A repressed gulp got stuck halfway in Robyn’s throat. A thousand different strategies were running through her mind at this moment, but all of them seemed likely to end in failure. She could try and go for his ankle, but he would probably just step on her. She could try to keep her distance to avoid being manhandled, but then how could she get close enough to make him submit? She could try this, that, and a million other tricks- but which of them would be enough to seal the deal? Is there anything she could do to take that belt off the man’s gargantuan waist?

Yer’ looking like you could use an equalizer.

Robyn’s eyes burst at the sound of a familiar voice, but before she could turn around to catch a glimpse, she felt the cold touch of a steel chair being pressed onto her torso. Wrestling’s great equalizer indeed. She grasps the foregin object and turns around.

“Dolly!”

Robyn cried out gleefully, swinging her arms, along with the chair she already forgot she was holding. Dolly weaves back avoiding an inadvertent shot from the steel,

Whoa, chica!

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m just really excited, I want to tell you that I used your advice… ‘be the ring’... AND I WON!”

The sight of Robyn’s genuine enthusiasm paints Dolly’s face with a blush,

I know… her eyelashes were flapping like the tranquil flutter of butterfly wings,...I was watching, you cagy little thing, you! she laughs, nudging Robyn in the arm. Robyn was smiling so hard her teeth were cracking. Her head awkwardly shook back and forth ever so slightly. But then the thought occurred to Robyn again, and her jovial emotional state turned into flatten roadkill on the highway. Her head sank, and her eyes turned towards the floor like she was looking at where she thought she belonged.

Wait… what’s the matter?

“Mi madre. She didn’t get to see me win the match. I don’t think the match even made TV!”

Dolly twists her lips and lets out a grunt, already having an idea that Miss Fury probably had a hand in Robyn’s match not making it to television,

Don’t worry, Robyn. Things are getting ready to change around Anarchy.

“They are? How do you know?”

Trust me, partner.

Robyn did trust Dolly, and though she wasn’t entirely sure why, it was with good reason. Because just a few moments after this conversation, boss-man Vincent Lane would take his show back from Miss Fury… just before introducing Dolly Waters as the new Commissioner of XWF Anarchy.

But before that happened…

Just start focusing on yer’ Saturday match with Big Money Oswald. I’ll be in Atlanta too, I’ve got a match with Betsy Granger. And remember… Dolly turns her eyes back to the chair in Robyn’s hand, You can only win a submission match via submission, if you catch my drift.

“¡No creo que sepas lo que es una partida de sumisión! ¿Qué diablos tiene que ver una silla con brazaletes y perneras?”

The chair, Robyn. There’s no disqualifications in a submission match.

Robyn looked like she’d just heard The Beatles for the first time, but before she could respond, and before Dolly could walk away to be introduced as the commissioner of XWF Anarchy, a group of sloppy-looking, unsavory bWo fans carrying VIP passes approached our two heroines.

“LOOK! IT’S THOSE FEMINAZIS!”

[bwo][/bwo]

“Femmes not seen? Are they talking about my match?”

Robyn turned to Dolly with a look of confusion, still firmly grasping the chair. Before Dolly had a chance to respond, these disgusting BWO lards continued to spew their verbal diarrhea as if they were cutting a Chris Page promo minus the out-of-context gifs!

“TAKE THAT MASK OFF YOUR FACE, YOU ILLEGAL!”

The fattest of the sad sobs reaches out and tries to grab a greasy handful of Robyn’s mask. She immediately recoils and uses the chair in her grip to block the man’s dirty hand from making contact with her face.

Yer’ outta’ here, assholes!

“YOU CAN’T KICK US OUT! WE BOUGHT V.I.P. PASSES! THAT MEANS WE’RE VERY IMPOTENT PEOPLE!”

Robyn and Dolly looked at each other with sly grins. They couldn’t help but chuckle, and neither can I. One of the deplorable fans lashed out in anger. The sight of seeing two young women having a laugh enraged him. He was one of those… incelibate types,

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU FEMINAZIS LAUGHING ABOUT, HUH?!”

You’re all impotent men? Dolly stated coyly, taking a glance at the men’s lower regions. Fitting.

“IMPOTENT? YOU’RE CALLING US IMPOTENT?! WHY I OUGHTA-”

“He said you were impotent!” Robyn chimes in while pointing to the fattest of the men.

“NO I DIDN’T! FAKE NEWS! FAKE NEWS! LYING MEXICAN! I BET YOU’RE A SHEEP, WITH THAT LITTLE MASK YOU HAVE!”

“It’s a luchadora mask….”

“COVID isn’t real! That mask won’t protect you!”

“Well, it’s real AND it has aids spliced into it by the Chinese BUT we shouldn’t wear masks or go back into a lockdown! They cut the aids into the covid to trick us into slowing down our economy and putting a diaper on our face!”

“It wasn’t the Chinamen, it was the damn North Korean War Criminals! That’s where all this COVID virus comes from! The ‘I’ in Covid stands for Kim Jong-Il!”

North Korea? That country can barely grow food. How in the hell do you think they could manufacture anything like a virus? They’re decades behind in education. The only thing North Korea has been capable of manufacturing is a bunch of quasi-religious, bat-shit-fairytales about worshiping the dear-leader.

The credulity of those poor people… jeez.

It’s just as bad as you conspiracy, Trump loving junkies. What are you going to tell me next? That there’s a beacon in North Korea that calls transgender aliens down from the outer space, cucking you proud, white, cis men out of yer’ women? Yer’ a bunch of dopes. No better than fat Kimmy’s starved sheep.


Robyn, hearing Dolly dress these slobs down so aptly, got filled with a fire. The jackrabbit was learning from the boar. She started chirping in like a ticked-off hummingbird, as these three very impotent people huff and stammer and fume about.

“This is a LUCHA LIBRE SHOW. If you want conspiraciones, política o relaciones internacionales GO WATCH SOMETHING ELSE- like maybe una clase de secundaria! ¡Algo que ustedes idiotas pueden entender! You lot are the kind of rabble that gives our sport a bad name! That’s right, SPORT! Not snuff filmography, not pornography, not hamfisted social commentary! ES-P-O-R-T! If you’re not here for the good, old-fashioned matches and promos then GET OUT OF HERE!”

Robyn raised the chair above her head and took a step towards the three men. As Robyn roared forward, the three ‘VIPs’ immediately tucked-tail, and turned the other way. The fattest among them tripped on his own untied shoelaces as he made his retreat. The other two men fell on top of him while trying to make their own daring escape. It was every bit as slapstick as Larry, Moe and Curly. Only it was sadder. Robyn and Dolly rejoiced in their panic as the men scrambled up to their feet and away from these ‘feminazi bitches’. I still ain’t so sure what that meant.

Dang, Robyn! That was badass!

“Well I’m learning from the best, chica!”

Dolly and Robyn exchanged warm smiles. You could see this team starting to take shape. But then a suspiciously young woman in a miniskirt and heels approached the tag team. She tapped on Dolly’s shoulder.

“Hi Ms Waters- Vinnie Lane sent me to get you. He said he needs to get you for that big thing you’re doing tonight.”

The jackrabbit shot a dubious eyebrow at the boar. Dolly smiled, and shrugged her shoulders in admission. You should stick around and watch the rest of Anarchy. If not, I’ll see you in Atlanta on Saturday. We’ll get ready for Flynn and… it just dawned on her that she was running down the homeland of her opponent-to-be, but hey… that’s the boar for ya’...

“His mail-order partner- I guess when you don't share a border you have to get that VISA anyway you can!”

...and that’s the jackrabbit. And their story continues...