Saturday, October 15th, 2016
Smoothie King Center
New Orleans, Louisiana, USA
…Backstage following Saturday Savage…

RUNNING WATERS OUTTANOWHERE!!!! Dolly had recovered unnaturally quick from the superkick and blasted Kitt in the mouth with the shining wizard. KITT FALLS FROM THE CELL and crashes through the announcement table!!! Waters now on her hands and knees looks over the side of cell, her eyes widening from the carnage she created... Completely gassed she falls backwards on the cage onto her back as the crowd goes insane!

I couldn’t help but continually play this scene, over and over and over again as I sat back in my locker room, nursing the potentially broken ribs that I had already refused treatment for from the XWF medical staff. I kept sliding my finger back on the tablet sitting in my lap, a sadistic grin growing on my face, exposing my blood stained teeth as I continued watching Kitt Kennedy’s body plummet twenty feet from Hell and into oblivion.

I could literally sit here and watch this all day. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, though I’ll admit, I’m a bit disappointed that Kitt is still alive, I fucking hate this guy… but nonetheless it sure was nice after weeks of listening to this undeserving douche bag claim he was better than me, to see his spine twist around the announce table. It was nice to finally showcase to the entire fucking world just how despicably violent, just how uncannily dominate that Dolly Waters is; I am a cerebral wolf amongst all of these dimwitted sheep, and I have no plans of stopping… and even scarier is the fact that there is no one who can stop me.

There’s a knock at my door before Paul Heyman practically drags himself inside:“Feeling alright champ?”, physically speaking, not particularly, but overall I was elated: “Never felt better…” I winced a bit, gritting my teeth and squinting my eyes as I tried turning my upper body to face my manager who out of the two of us was truly worse for wear. Isn’t that sweet? Here Paul was, after having been kidnapped and tortured by that cowherd piece of Mexican refried shit, Hunter Payne, who instead of going after the actual well-bodied athletes who attacked him, went after a defenseless ageing man who was just doing his job; and Paul was checking up on my condition. I have the best goddamned manager in the world, bar none!

“Whoa! Whoa! Easy, Dolly!”

Paul hobbles over to my side and smacks an icepack onto my ribcage: “OUCH!”, “Now hold that there for a second” he then grabs an ace bandage and begins carefully wrapping it around my ribs and stomach, “You put on one hell of a show tonight, kid, you proved a lot of the naysayers wrong… just like I knew you would.” for the menacing, maniacal sleezebag that Heyman was, he could be very tender toward me when the setting warranted such, and being young girl with proverbial ‘daddy issues’ as they say, I sure did appreciate the occasional thoughtfulness.

“Thanks, Paul… I had no doubts that I would steal the show.”

He smiles a bit before his brow tightens as he became more serious,

“But as much as it pains me to say, I will have to somewhat agree with that know nothing paper pusher Jefferson Jackson, we can’t risk you sustaining anymore damage. That’s why I believe we need to buy you a ‘Champ’s Day Off’ and use it this week while you rehab.Next week’s card has been released; you’ve been scheduled to defend against Makaveli”

“Are you kidding me!?!”

Incensed I leap from the table, jabbing Paul’s bad shoulder with my stiffened fingers,

“Fuck that, Paul! Do you think for one second I’m not going to defend my title against that Peter Gilmour pecker puffin’ pussy and in Lexington, Kentucky no less!?! Do you think I’m scared of that pathetic little title shitter?!?

“Of course not, Dolly! And I know for a fact that you could take him…”

Paul nudges his fist into my hurt ribs, causing my to cripple over in pain,

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!”

“But see the human body, no matter how physically gifted, no matter goddamned dominate you may be, can only take so much; no one in this entire company has worked as hard as you have this month. That type of work warrants a reprieve you know?”

“I’ll be fine, Paul, trust me.”

Paul gave me an awkward look before grabbing my leather jacket and throwing it over my shoulders, he then proceeded to grab my duffel bag and my Television Title, placing it over his own shoulder as he exhaled heavily through his nose and smiled.

“There are a slew of reporters outside of here, Dolly. You’re like The Beatles, like the Stones, they all want a piece.”

I chuckled a bit at this sentiment, and it’s moments like these, when the spotlight is the brightest that I absolutely thrive.

“Well what are we waiting for? It’s showtime.”

As we limped out of the locker room and into the main hallway that lead to the press area, there was a deafening sound of general bantering amongst the reporters and camera’s cracking. It was like one of those scene from a movie where someone, be it a president or an athlete is about to make some important announcement, yes, the stage they had set for me was indeed that grandiose.

I open the red curtain to find a sea of reporters, as I damn near am blinded by the flashes on their cameras, I give a cute smile and a wave, being very Queen-esque as I send blow some kisses toward a corral of my diehard fans who are being roped off in the back corner of the room. I grab a seat at the table on the stage as Paul sits my title in between the two of us… The reporters go nuts:


“Alright folks, one at a time…”

Paul points over to a fellow with an ESPN mic

“Hello Dolly, Johnathan Coachman, ESPN: After sustaining what could have been nearly career threatening injuries in your title defense tonight, how do you think you’ll be able to recover in time for your next opponent, former Tag Team and Intercontinental Champion, Makaveli?”

“I think Mr. Heyman would agree that I’m a pretty tough hombre…”

I smile and look over to Paul,

“Mr. Heyman, have I ever mentioned that I’ve been to boot camp?”

Catching my drift he smiles back and sarcastically says,

“No, indeed you have not! But it’s not like you’ve been to prison or anything. See if you had been to prison before you’d want to at least mention that…ooohhh, I don’t know, ALL OF THE FUCKING TIME!"

We share a laugh before I continue on answering the question,


“I appreciate the concern Mr. Coachman, but I’m already recovered. I could be without an arm, I could have brain matter leaking out of my ear and would be fully prepared to take on my next opponent. You see, this is usually the moment during your average promo cut by an XWF Superstar where you briefly gush about your opponent, especially one with a reputable background, and talk all about how much you respect then and how they’re going to be a great challenge; I’ve never understood that aspect.

Because not only do I not respect Makaveli, I don’t think he was ever a very good champion. We’re talking about a person, a man, if you will; who saw the height of his career come at a time when the XWF was in absolute shambles. Piss poor management, obviously because none of those morons are around anymore, and no Dolly Waters around as the gold standard to which these pretenders try and reach after. Then he fleas, or get's arrested, or whatever he claims and goes to prison, no way you've missed out on that part of his story... Do I have rainbows bursting out of my ass here? What type of successful XWF Superstar can't pay off a judge, or avoid a little time in the pokey? That is unless you like getting poked.

It would have been much more reasonable for him to simply admit that he was a garbage champion who couldn't quite cut it anymore. For fuck's sake, he left his tag partner Peter Gilmour high and dry with the belts, and now Gilly... GILLY OF ALL PEOPLE won't even take him back. Ouch, that's gotta' hurt, huh?

Makaveli, was an undeserving champion of a title that no longer exists, and lost said title on an episode of Saturday Savage, I’m guessing right before his little vacation to the Big House; and him being the worthless, lazy ass title shitter that he was couldn’t even muster the ability to cut his limit of three promos that week and so he lost to another undeserving title shitter who’s even less relevant than John Black. So again, just to reiterate, Makaveli doesn’t have a chance in hell at taking my Television Title from me… this is the Championship of the workhorses, and he’s anything but that, even if I am hurt, which I’m not, I will rip his jaw off and UPS it Next Day Air to his family for a Christmas ornament.

“Dolly, Dave Meltzer here: I just got done penning up an article where I described that next week’s show in your home state, Kentucky, could be one of most partisan crowds ever at a wrestling show. Are you excited to be performing back home? What advantages will this lend you?”

“No I’m not really particularly excited… Have I ever mentioned I’ve been to boot camp? It’ll be better than being in boot camp.”

The crowd let out a good laugh as I winked,

“Need to really drive that point home. But again, no, I’m not anymore excited to be wrestling in Lexington, then I would be anywhere else, but I will say the fact that we’ll be in Rupp Arena should add some mystique to the event. We’re talking about the building of a great championship dynasty; we’re sure to feel the ghosts of many great championship caliber teams who played there. It will only be fitting that a TRUE great champion such as myself teaches the world what a fraudulent foolhardy one-off little looks like…

As for advantages, I really don’t need any of that shit. Makaveli has all the advantages, right? I mean he’s not been shy on mentioning how he was raised on the rough streets and learned how to fight and such, I mean he’s reminded us all of that since his return as many times has he’s had to clearly point out that he’s been in prison. Wow! It’s almost like he thinks that being the king of a stereotypical hand full of monkey piss is a cool thing, maybe that’s why he used to run with pieces of deplorable Donald Trump shit like Mia Dim and Peter Gilmour.

Maybe he’ll air some witty quote from an author or a political figure who he knows nothing about at the beginning of one of his promos, which should be fresh given his recent run of the arbitrary. Maybe he’ll bust a flow… NOW THAT’S AN ADVANTAGE! Maybe #thuglyfe will play some classical, or some hard rock during his promo to juxtapose the entire African American stereotype so that I will be confused. Maybe he’ll point out that he’s raped little girls like me in da’ hood.

I don’t know, Dave, I really don’t.

But what I do know is this, Makaveli’s little play on Affirmative Action to receive this match is going to land him on the wrong side of history. I’m going to hurt him… badly."

The room of reporters begin clamoring for more questions, but I'm over this. I look over to Paul, who gives me the nod before I cut them off. He knows me so well!

"Seeing as how the only two real journalists here have already asked questions, I'm going to leave now and go sign some autographs for my ever patiently waiting fans."

4x XTreme Champion    (1x as Misty Waters)
3x Television Champion
3x Tag Team Champion (w/ Vita Valenteen, w/ Charlie Nickles, w/ Madison Dyson)
2x Hart Champion
1x Universal Champion

5x Star Of The Month
July ‘25, August '24(As Misty Waters), 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

2024 Storyline Of The Year (The Misty Waters Takeover)