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Dolly Waters · (02-19-2023)

Two fer’ six… Dolly lets out a bent sigh, …what an absolute waste.

It wasn’t only two- her trusted assistant Patel Gagandeep, charmingly known as Gag, appears behind his employer's shoulder. The two of them are taking in some peculiar scribblings and illustrations on a large whiteboard.

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It’s mounted to a dusty cobblestone wall in this little crystal crammed, sage scented metaphysical shop. -you also manifested a loss for Sarah Lacklan! She’s who you wanted to see lose more than anyone.

Manifested my ass! This witchcraft shit ain’t workin’, Gag.

A sudden desire overtakes Gag.

One as pungent as the fragrance of smoldering dog feces filling this cluttered shop.

A desire to gently remind Dolly that the reasons for the “witchcraft”, or “manifestations”, or “spells”, or what have you not working -besides it all being totally made up- was that the resources at her disposal were not of the “black magic” that Dolly had been seeking in the first place.

...uh, well maybe it’s- beads of sweat swelling around his brow, -we’re just using the wrong spell. Yeah?

But, in what’s quickly becoming an early retirement plan for Gag, he again opts not to rock the boat. No sense in saying anything that might potentially upset Dolly. She’s become increasingly erratic and volatile as of late, and as equally psychotic as the overly generous paychecks she hands him for doing next to no actual work.

It’s that fraud Maluna ain’t it? she’s referring to the rightful owner of this metaphysical shop. The woman who gave Dolly a tarot reading prior to her matchup against Isaiah King. The reading revealed that Dolly was born under unique circumstances in the astrological natal charts. A Scorpio sun-sign, a Pisces moon-sign, and a Cancer ascendant-sign. Maluna called Dolly the Element Trinity, and attempted to manifest within the youthful pro-wrestling veteran some positive affirmations. Where’s that stupid bitch? Not being satisfied, Dolly kidnapped Maluna and commandeered her shop, determined to practice some black magic of her own.

I believe she’s still tied up near the cauldron… Dolly turns curtly from the whiteboard and begins marching toward the next room, ...but wait! Gag flings the words from his larynx like a nervous knee-jerk reaction. Despite her current state of delusion, Gag knows that Dolly performed well on Weekend Warfare.

Not only did she handedly, or, claw-edly?, dispatch Isaiah King, but three of the six competitors she foresaw as threats met their demise.

He’s worried that if Dolly continues to take this kidnapping of an innocent woman too far, that it could result in major legal ramifications, which in turn would cost him his ridiculously overpaid job. If he can get her to settle down, and believe that this witchcraft hogwash is actually working, then maybe she’ll continue to churn out good performances in March Madness, giving him time to sweep this whole situation under the rug.

You went three for six, Ms. Waters. she stops near the round door frame, turns back to Gag, and darts into him with those green daggers of her eyes, Uh-, if I- haha- if I may be so bold?

What are you blatherin’ about, Gag?

Calypso, Bobby Bourbon and Sarah Lacklan, they all lost their matches. Leaving only Sidney Grey, “Mad Dog” Mark Wright and Angelica Vaughn left to be disposed of. And they’re clearly the three weakest of competitors you tabbed as threats to upend you in March Madness. That’s good for fifty percent!

Fifty percent?

fIfTy pErCeNt?!

You know what fifty percent gets you in professional wrestling, GAG?!

It gets you doing cartwheels over beating the Ghost Tanks of XWF, smacking yer’self in the face with yer’ silicone boobs. It gets you thinking that prominence on XWF’s B-programming can translate into success against the real roster. Fifty percent might be fine fer’ some of these clowns in March Madness, but it ain’t where we’re aiming.

Bu-but.. Gag turns to a bookshelf beside the whiteboard, his hands flailing and knocking different publications about, many falling to the floor, ..I- I was, uh… fifty percent is uhh- he grabs a particularly dated looking tome, -here it is! he flips the tome open to a random page he’s clearly never read, BALANCE! In black magic, balance is key! Fifty percent!

Dolly’s face bends a time or two over as she moves towards Gag with an eager arm reaching out,

Leme’ see that book,

See what? This? This book? a sheepish reply, pursing his lips as he begins to intentionally fumble the book.

Yeah goddamnit, lemme’ see… she darts in to snag the book away, but Gag juggles it in his hands. There’s an awkward struggle between the two, and before Dolly can realize what’s happening, Gag has “accidently” wrapped his leg behind her, causing them both to trip and fall into the bookshelf. Tearing down the whiteboard along with it. Everything collapses into a cloud of dust and incense ashes.

AAAOOOWWW, THE FUCK GAG?! Dolly winces and pulls her face from the concrete floor,

*cough* I’m s- *hack* -so sorry Ms. Waters. He pulls up next to her from the floor. The dark energy coursing through you… it’s so strong, it made me lose my balance. Dolly tilts her head over at Gag, and for a brief moment a look overcomes her features, making it clear she knows he’s full of more shit than this metaphysical shop. But rather than react in anger Dolly just exhales through her nostrils, and begins to reveal something… a truth…

Ya’ know, Gag. The thing about Sarah Lacklan, I wasn’t tryin’ to- but something catches her eye, stopping her mid thought.

The tome Gag was holding is lying on its spine, and flipped open before her. Her eyes go wide reading the bold letters at the top of the page:

CRAFTING LIFE FROM THE DEAD

Her face pulls up from it’s lifeless slump, reanimating her monstrous smile.

Moments Later

We see the cauldron room where Dolly recorded her promotional against Isaiah King. The chair where Madame Maluna was held hostage is empty. The ropes appear to have been sliced through. Dolly’s hostage appears to have broken free. In the background we hear a playful voice shouting about…

Oh Madame Maluna! Come out, come out, wherever you are! I need more of yer’ AWESOME bitchcraft skills.

-to be continued-

Sidney Grey...

We see Dolly standing over what appears to be some type of archaic operating table. It’s more like a rustic looking torture table. You can barely notice the metal clamps sticking out of the old wooden planks due to it being covered by a white sheet. The sheet is draped over the table, and covers what appears to be the form of a human body.

...I know we don’t know each other…

Dolly’s eyes move to the table with a smile before raising her glare back into the camera,

...not yet anyhow. But I have a feeling, by the time I’m done here, you and I are gonna’ be real close. In fact, by the time I step in that ring with you on Weekend Warfare, I’m gonna’ possess every tool needed to sew that botox pumped trap of yer’s up, once and fer’ all. And what a goddamn gift that’ll be for the XWF, amirite? Treat you just like every other Anarchy “star” who tries testing their weight on the main roster. It’s no wonder you were celebrating a win over Big Oswald with such vigor. Being on top of third-rate competition is already baked into yer’ DNA ain’t it? I mean… why else would you come to the biggest professional wrestling promotion on the planet, only to play in the B-squad sandbox? That tells me you already know where you belong.

Sure, you made it through one round of March Madness, but against who? I’d like you to do a little homework for me, since yer’ big goal here is to impress yer’ daughter anyway, be a good parent fer’ once and help out with this classroom assignment: when was the last time Big Money Oswald won a match that wasn’t on Anarchy? OH! I’ve got another question too! Ger’ extra credit, when was the last time RUBY won a match away from micro-leagues? Your goal to be the “queen” of Anarchy is what it is, Sidney. The Queen of the little leagues. Short matches. Short promotional material. And short handed on talent.

You could’ve beaten just about anyone else in the first round of March Madness, and maybe you’d have some credibility. Maybe you’d have an argument for why Dolly Waters needs to take you more seriously, but truth be told, you don’t shake my confidence one iota. To think I was going to waste some of my dark energy trying to conjure you up a loss.

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