It’s roughly high noon in Florida, and despite the time of year that still makes the air here a balmy 72 degrees. Dolly Waters gets out of the Uber, the shot spinning behind her to reveal that she’s just been dropped off at the Smith (nee Dyson) manor. She nods, turning up a half smile in approval as she makes her way up the expansive pathway to the front door. En route, she passes a trio playing hackey sack on the front lawn. She takes a moment to check her phone to ensure it is, indeed, still 2020.

Reaching the door, she pushes her thumb into the door bell, causing a dolorous symphonic chime within. It isn’t long before a butler appears.



Ah! Miss Waters, I presume? He has an accent Dolly can’t quite place.

Guilty as charged.

The butler steps aside, bidding Dolly to enter. Right this way, madam. Corey has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.

Dolly follows him, though taking a moment to mouth “madam?” behind his back with mirth. She follows him into the house, shocked to see a plethora of people. Passing a common area, Dolly notes at least a good eight people chatting it up. On the grand staircase, a trio are gibbering excitedly about something and racing up the steps.

So did you work for Madison Dyson?

Oh no! She never would’ve hired me. I’m a Jew!

Dolly nods, understanding, with a small smile. Finally, they reach an elaborate Rec Room. Corey is there with three more people she doesnt recognize, playing a game of pool.

The butler clips his heels together smartly and clears his throat gently. Corey, may I present Miss Dolly Waters!

Corey turns away from the game, his expression instantly lighting up. Dolly! Corey runs up to her, embracing her without hesitation. He casts a quick glance back at the others at the game. Sorry guys, we’ll have to pick it up again later.

The pool players leave, one of them clapping Corey on the shoulder as he passes and giving him an inscrutable thumbs up that Corey doesn’t seem to understand. Corey then addresses the butler. Thanks a bunch, Gerrard!

My pleasure. He gives a little bow, and turns on his heels, instinctively knowing when to depart.

Corey breaks the hug and Dolly takes a moment to drink it all in. I’m so happy you finally made your Proto-Marxist Sex Commune dreams come true!

Corey laughs. Eh, it’s not THAT cool.

But it is….a lot. Then, additionally, after a moment. With a lot of people.

He claps his hands together, a proud expression dawning on him. It IS a lot. Oh, and before you ask, yes, EVERYONE has been tested for Covid-19!

Uh...I wasn’t….

Corey looks at her blankly for a moment, then with a nervous titter, I’m sure it’s nothing!

Dolly grits her teeth and replies in a flat monotone. Yeah, me too. She opts to change the subject. So, what’s your grand design for this place?

He shrugs. Simple, really. I’m turning what was once a symbol of evil and opulence into a beacon of hope. Walk with me.

Dolly falls into step beside him as Corey keeps talking. You basically had it right when you called it a Marxist commune. This place will be a safe haven for the homeless, desperate, or otherwise in need. People coming together to help each other and themselves. And the only rule is “From each according to their ability, to each according to their need.”

It’s a classic for a reason!

Corey chuckles at Dolly’s ever studious wit as the two continue onward through the back of the mansion and into a large courtyard. The sprawling acerrage, once lush with pomp shrubbery and statue accented fountains, had slowly begun to be repurposed into a mecca of self sustainability, and Dolly had never seen anything so tantalizing.

In the back corner of the property, just beyond a series of large garden plots being tilled over, a group of young men were putting the finishing touches on a large windmill. The windmill would be just the first of many that would soon run together to power the property without the use of fossil fuels. There must have been 10 to 12 people outside working; a generous mix of men, women and children, all sharing a common purpose of living life without greed or vanity.

For…

In one of the fountain pools, she spots children cleaning off the fresh picked vegetables, tossing them up into baskets

how…

And on a concrete slab in between the two following pools, an artist is sketching a brilliant portrait of a mother and her daughter who are posing with charmingly austere smiles

how long have you…

With her mind swarming, Dolly can barely muster a rational question, but luckily Corey’s linguistic guessing skills are top notch.

Not long. Immediately after I inherited the property I knew it could be put to better use.

Well what in the heck do you need my help here for? This place is great!

Corey laughed, a demure little twinkling. Oh, I don’t need your help. I mean, unless you WANT to. I wanted to know if you’d like to LIVE here.”

Again, Dolly was flabbergasted. Corey….I…. But she was interrupted by the distinct sound of glass shattering. Both of their attentions were drawn to a window overlooking the yard, and the football that had just come through it. A head poked out through the broken glass.

Yo, sorry Corey-bro! We’ll, uhhhh, we’ll fix that later. The young man ducked his head back in before Corey could even respond.

Doly squinted her eyes suspiciously and turned to Corey. Was that guy wearing a letterman jacket?

Corey nodded. Oh yeah, that’s Kyle. He used to dorm at the local community college until they switched to all online instruction.

She considered that statement a moment, looking like she was going to say something else but decided against it.

So, my offer….?

Dolly looked a tad nervous. It’s a very generous offer, Corey and…

Saved by the bell again, they both hear someone call out Corey’s name. An old woman in a motorized wheelchair was coming up to them, but to say she looked eccentric was an understatement. She was wearing fashionable sunglasses that were certainly knockoffs, a glitzy dress that looked like it was a remnant from the flapper era, and her wheelchair was adorned with glowsticks hanging from it every which way. Oooohhhhh, Corey, is this your girlfriend? she cooed.

Corey reddened a bit. No, no, Ms. Chestnut, she’s just a friend. Corey gestured to her. Dolly, this is Ms. Chestnut. She was staying at the same hospital I was. Her insurance determined she couldn’t stay there anymore, and while she was hospitalized her house was foreclosed on. She didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I told her she could stay here, with us!

Ms. Chestnut leans in towards Dolly in a conspiratory fashion, whispering He’s a keeper, this one. And a fantastic ass to boot.

Dolly’s eyes go wide and she struggles to repress a laugh. Well, it’s an honor, ma’am. But I’m still not Corey’s girlfriend.

Oh! Well, more for me then! She laughs and Corey shoots Dolly a sheepish smile before turning his attention to the old woman.

So, what are you all dressed up for? He pokes at one of the glowsticks hanging from the armrest of her chair.

At first, Ms. Chestnut considers him with what seems to be a degree of surprise. Why, to the rave of course!

I….I’m sorry….the what?

Oh, there’s a rave upstairs in like 10 minutes! Going to be a bitchin’ party.

Corey looks astonished and slightly horrified. Uhhhhhhh…..this was….not….

Hey sweety? She gestures towards Dolly. You know the names of all the good drugs now? I haven’t gotten fucked up since the Carter administration.

While shaking her head a bit Dolly’s brow tightens with concern, as she side-waves her hand towards the lady to display her unwillingness to not only help, but to even acknowledge her request. She turns back over to Corey,

A rave?

She inaudibly mouths, her eyes widening in trepidation,

Corey mirrors Dolly’s face, raising his hands up in a coy manner and shrugging. Dolly grabs Corey by the arm and pulls the two of them away from the wheelchaired counterculture comrade,

Marxist commune my ass, Corey!

She says having finally pulled them away from general earshot as they continue back inside of the mansion,

If you don’t tell me what’s going on here…

Corey stammers in reply. I….I have no idea….I….

And just about then, the ceiling above them starts to vibrate in tune with loud thumping dance beats. They both look up, and then at each other.

They’re early. Then, with more seriousness. I had no idea, Dolly, I swear! This is definitely not what this was meant to be.

Well, Jesus Corey, how did you miss it?

I’m not the most hands on coordinator! Corey’s reply is sheepish and a little cowed.

Dolly works a serious game face on. Not on my watch! Come on, Corey!

Dolly and Corey plunge up the main staircase, and it isn’t difficult to discern the source of the noise. They turn a corner and look through the open double doors of a large workout room. All the exercise equipment has been piled just outside the door, and from within all you can see is writhing bodies and vibrant strobe lights.

Dolly looks at Corey, aghast once again, as if to scream “HOW?!” without uttering a sound. Corey responds in silent kind, clutching his hands to his head in dismay and pantomiming ripping his hair out in frustration. With that, they both settle their eyes on the impromptu party and wade into the throng of revelers. It isn’t long before they lose sight of each other, pushed and pulled as they are by the labyrinthe of gyrating forms.

Corey starts to push his way to the front, towards the DJ Booth. He gets about halfway before a young blond is shoved into him. Upon seeing Corey, she gasps flirtatiously. Her eyes, dulled by various party drugs, can barely take hold of his facial features, but that doesn’t stop her from pressing her body into his and whispering in his ear. You smell like nectarines and sex. Sextarines! She pitches her head back to laugh at her own joke, and the momentum she creates carries her right to the floor.

Corey cringes and at first moves to pick her up, but then, remembering his mission, he stops. I’m so sorry! He says to the girl as he loses himself in the masses again. After much fighting, cajoling, and numerous uncalled for gropes, he gets to the DJ booth. Corey steps up beside the DJ.

Excuse me! This party is completely unauthorized! It needs to stop right now! Corey shouts through the din.

The DJ, noticing him out of the corner of his eye, turns and pulls aside one of his headphones. What?!

I SAID, THIS PARTY WAS NOT APPROVED BY ME! AND IT NEEDS TO STOP!

The DJ shakes his head. Who the fuck are you?!

Corey reels. What do you mean “who the fuck am I”?! I’m….. And then it occurs to Corey he’s never seen this man before in his life. Wait! Who the fuck are YOU?!

**BANG!**

Corey grabs his ears and whips his head toward the middle of the room to see Dolly standing beneath a cloud of falling plaster, a .38 Special in her hand pointed at the ceiling.

PARTY’S OVER, BITCHES!

The crowd scrambles for the various exits as Dolly shoots a wink over towards Corey,

I never realized how annoying and pointless Rave’n could be…

Corey’s lighthearted chuckle at Dolly’s remark is short lived as he slowly observes the mess he’s inherited.

Where did I go wrong?

Corey, this is a really righteous thing you’re doing here. Exercising humility, boxing up your vanity and leaning into the needs of others. Forsaking all of your previous successes to make peace with the world.

Unfortunately though, there’s always a couple of pricks who will take advantage of this type of situation, be it for their ego, or legacy, or what-have-you. All they care about are themselves.

Sometimes you’ve just got to fire a shot to remind them that you’re still paying attention. Then you can get back to doing the right thing.

ROUGHLY ONE HOUR LATER…

Corey and Dolly are cleaning up the workout room, each of them with a broom and trash bag in hand. Corey looks up from a partially filled trash bag of glow sticks and shouts over to his gun toting friend on the other side of the room,

Hey, Dolly!

Yeah?

So I heard a little rumor about you…

Dolly sits her trash bag down and straightens out from a crouching position, sending Corey a faint smile as she wipes away a bit of sweat from her forehead, and starts walking towards him,

Is it true?

It’s true that I brought it up, probably to the person you heard it from.

Thad…,

That fucker.

He was pretty upset.

I understand, but nothing is concrete. All I know for sure is that I missed my friends, and I’m really happy that we’re going to be partnering up at Warfare.

Corey stops for a moment. I’m very happy about that too.

Dolly nods in his direction. You’re standing on a pair of nasty panties.

Corey looks down, and with a disgusted expression picks up his foot. He maneuvers the bristles of the mop up under the panties, and after some finagling finally manages to get them in the garbage bag. He then drops his broom. Break time!

Sounds good to me.

Then, with a strange little smirk, Corey puts a hand to his ear. Forsooth! Is that a lull in the action I hear?!

Why, I do believe it is! Dolly replies, catching on quick.

Perhaps then, it’s time to….

They both turn to the camera.

Talk some shit!

They really nailed the choreography on that one!

But Dolly, what kind of shit do we talk about two guys who’ve pretty much heard it all? It’s like “what do you get for the man who has everything”? Except in this case the gift is ego shattering insults. Corey shrugs. I mean, really? What can we say? “They’re both aging so gracefully it’s almost creepy”? There has to be some kind of pact with the devil at work there. Or it’s a Count of Monte Cristo dealy.

Dolly looks confused initially, but then it hits her. Do you mean, “The Picture of Dorian Gray?

No, I mean the Count of Monte Cristo.

Weeeelllllll, you’re wrong. On a couple counts, my virtuous friend! Because there is plenty of shit to talk about James Raven and Centurion!

Oh good, I was getting worried there for a second!

You’ve got to understand, there’s a certain tang to absolutism that offers an embarrassment of its own, because you had it right in a sense; there ain’t a damn thing you can do to critique perfection.

See, if there’s one thing that drags harder than being unable to surpass top-tier mid-carder status in the XWF, trust me I have experience there, it’s proclaiming yourself the “king” of such mediocrity. Like, who’s actually doling out such “honors”?

Well, Dolly, I do believe it’s Centurion himself. The man went on record saying he would spend his career henceforth being the best damn mid carder he could be after he failed to win the Universal Championship again.

See!? How embarrassing!

But do you know what’s even more embarrassing? That upon hearing one of the XWF’s best mid-carders of all time might-MIGHT be retiring, two bonafide legends practically tripped over themselves rushing to collect some of that “riding off into the sunset” shine!

Now for me, it begs the question, is this a hand outstretched in respect? A grand sendoff? Or is it two guys looking for an ego bump, chomping at the bit to say “I put Dolly Waters out.” Now Cent, maybe I can cut him some slack. Lux had a lot of respect for him, and she was a pretty damn good judge of character. Corey eyes go wide. ‘But ‘dat “Raven Legacy” doe! Always lookin’ for a good massage!

Dolly bites her bottom lip while blushing, sending off quite a shimmering smile of coyness into the camera before continuing:


I guess it’s pretty neat to think that ol’ Dolly Waters the flake, Dolly Waters the worthless, the winey, the attention starved, the irrelevant, the shitty friend, the selfish bitch, the fraud...

Dolly fuckin’ Waters, the standard bearing recipient of every lackluster “You’re-a-southerner” trope known to a fourth-grader...

Dolly the fake phenom Waters, the very soon to be hearing all of those regurgitated and hollow points of contention once again, from some folks so desperate to point out that they’re soooo much better than the talentless wretch they’d have just described...

It’s… again, pretty darn neat to think that I might be so important to a couple of “bonafide legends”.

They might tell you that their being paired up against Corey and myself is random, and hell, MAYBE it is. But if it isn’t, if there’s even a wrinkle of doubt that it isn’t, if it seems even the least bit suspect that one of the most glorified superstars the XWF has ever known just pops up in the middle of a card against a lowly cunt like myself even though he didn’t actually “opt-in” to be on the show.... Well then I think we can reasonably chalk-up the majority of the forthcoming smears against moi as grasping for the proverbial straws.

Then again, maybe that isn’t the aim. Maybe these gentlemen could give two fucks less about being involved in this match for any added notoriety. Their legacies are certainly already solid enough, right? I’m sure we’ll all be reminded of that until it bursts our fucking eardrums.

Maybe they’re just tired of seeing me pop up and drift away like a fart in the wind. Maybe they view everything that I am, and everything that I’ve been as a disgrace to the industry that they care so deeply about, and they’re ready to be rid of me once and for all. But then they’d really just be picking and choosing, wouldn’t they?

And wouldn’t it be just GRAND to know that Dolly Waters was able to get under the skin of two people who will soon be going out of their ways to explain to you all just how superior they are to me?

The suspense is truly palpable!

One thing that nearly a certainty though is that our position on the card won’t sit well with Centurion. It’s something he’s whined about before. Imagine having an ego that fragile. Maybe that’s what happens when you’ve had your cock planted so firmly in your own mouth for so long, it becomes less about what you’re actually doing, no matter how ridiculous you look, and more about getting yourself off.

And it’s not just a near certainty, you should probably write it down that he’ll blame me for where we’re booked on the show. Do you understand how utterly dull and dense you’d have to be to think that something as arbitrary as booking positions matters? ESPECIALLY once you’ve dubbed yourself the King of the mid-card? It’s pretty fucking hilarious if I do say so myself.

Corey makes an “ouchie” face. YEEEOUCH! I can hear Cent unfriending me on Facebook from here. I mean, once one of his grandkids shows him how. Corey stomps his foot and slaps a fist into his opposite palm. Ahhhh, damn it! I said I wouldn’t! Last old people joke, I swear!

He pauses for a moment, stroking his chin.

Now you might still be asking yourselves, “what does Corey Smith” bring to the table? Well, I tell ya what, if Cent gets to be the Best Mid-carder of all time, then I get to be the best SIDE KICK of all time! You see, this run of mine now? It’s not about me. It’s about putting right what once went wrong. Truly, I am the Scott Bakula of the XWF. “What are our odds in this match, Ziggy?”



She says they’re pretty damn good. Because Corey Smith is fixing things in the PRESENT too. Making sure things go the right way for good people. Take High Stakes for example. I said my bestie Thad Duke deserved that Universal Championship, and by God I made it happen. Sure we had a bit of chicanery from the Doc, but does anybody really think I would have struggled with Culty the Clown and “He of Perpetual Dank Stank”? I was already on it before DeVille intervened. Once Thad and I were in the final four together, it was a lock. And I survived all that way FOR him. Through fourteen other rat bastards and Barney Smith, and eliminating a former Universal Champion myself, I might add. Yeah, I hung in there, with one singular thought.

My best friend as Universal Champion.

So ask yourselves, do you think I will put any LESS fight into making sure Dolly’s last match, excuse me, POTENTIAL last match, is anything but aces? Corey shakes his head slowly. No. No less fight at all.

And as if you needed more evidence of the fight I have I will remind you, THIS body…. He pats his chest….contains the combined experience of everything Lux ever learned or did. And to hell with The Engineer….SHE won the Universal Championship. Her techniques, her style, her FIGHT lives inside me now. So if you want to insist that I am nothing but the cast offs of Lux and The Engineer, well….please do. I’d like it very much. A wry smile.

Not a bad start, eh?

Yeah, we did alright.

Corey holds his fist up in Dolly’s direction. Wonder Twin powers ACTIVATE?

She considers it for a moment. No. She deadpans, before moving out of the shot.

He draws his fist back in. Leaving me hangin’ eh? And here I was, offering you a place to live. Hey, wait a sec! You never did answ-

The shot very, very aburptly cuts to a test pattern.