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Dolly Waters · (03-20-2019)

At first, I was doing a pretty good job of ignoring this bitch's fingernails as she tapped them along the marble countertop, even pretending to not notice her over incredulous glare from behind her thick, red-framed bifocals. Instead of getting all out of sorts, I just kind of playfully bounced around to the tune I was lightly humming, my hands in my jacket pockets fidgeting with some lint, looking off and around the bank lobby.

"E-hem..."

She cleared her throat towards me, still tapping her fingernails. I pretended not to hear her and continued humming Beethoven,

"Ma'am?"

She drug out of her vocals with very pretentious, nasally voice,

"Oh? Yes, ma'am?"

I sold my sudden alarming response as surprised, leaning over the countertop now and looking at the woman from over the top of my sunglasses,

"Ma'am, do you have any other form of identification? Your grade school hall pass from twenty-sixteen isn't going to work."

"Oh?"

I said, tilting my head and scrunching my brow,

"Yeah... and even with proper identification, I can't just cash five checks for a hundred-thousand dollars each."

She snarkily said,

"You can't? Ain't this a bank?"

The incredulity of her glare intensified along with the tapping of her fucking nails which were really starting to bother me,

"Yes, this is a bank."

This bitch reminded me of Squidward from Spongebob,

"You would have to open an account with us and deposit the money. For that, we're going to need your social security car-"

Oh, easy!

"Four-zero-two-four-seven-five-sev-"

"Ma'am!"

She cut me off,

"I'm going to need the social security card, not the number. If you do not have your social security card and another proper form of i.d., there's nothing I can do to help you."

The bank teller starts sliding the checks back across the countertop towards me. I gasp while placing a hand on my chest and then proceed to do the only thing I could think of- cause a scene.

"B-ut, Ma'am, Ma'am!"

I begin to stutter my words with a mixture of sobbing pleas my southern accent growing thicker and more childlike. My facing twisting with concern and fright as my lip began quivering and my eyes welling up,

"Why are you being so mean?!"

I demanded as the tears began to flow,

"Miss!"

She spits with a demanding whisper while lowering her head, her eyes shifting from either side of the lobby as the regular bank-goers begin to notice the situation,

"I'm going to have to ask you to lea-"

"Ma'am! If I ca'int cash these checks, then I ain't gonna' be able to get my Nana her chemo treatment!"

I sob out,

"MISS!"

She spits again, this time adding shushes to her demands,

"The gangrene done took both her legs! And now I have to feed her cats, but I ca'int even get buy no cat food! Pop-Paws' locked up fer' stealing groceries!"

The sobbing intensifies,

"IRS done come and took the trailer!"

and intensifies,

"I ain't ate no food in three days, and I've done got a rash on my back from sleeping on the cardboard with the kitties!"

"JANICE!"

A rather tubby, dark hiared man wearing a button down and tie hollers out towards the bank-teller as he appears from the back office,

"Shhh! Shhh! What's the matter, darling?"

He asks while pleading with his waving hands, trying to comfort me. I proceed to answer him with an even louder sob,

"This lady won't cash my checks cause I ain't got but my school i.d. and I ain't got no money fer' chemo fer' Nana and her cats are dying! Pop-Paw done in jail and the trailer gone and we been sleepin' in the basement of the church on the floor!!!"

I lay my face into my hands and begin hyperventilating between the cries, slobber and snot oozing out of the cracks between my fingers,

"Janice!"

The bank manager turns to scold the uppity bank teller,

"What is the problem!? Why aren't you cashing this poor little girl's checks?"

He demands,

"Sir! She has five-hundred-thousand dollars worth of checks here! And whoever authorized these..."

She huffs in-between her explanation,

"They didn't even sign a name, sir. It's just a crudely drawn penis, and I don't even think that's ink! It looks like they used fecal matter!"

Ah! Shane

must have been signing the checks recently,

The bank manager grabs one of the checks and gives it a good read. His eyes suddenly light up. He looks over at me. He gulps. Sweat beads form on his head. He clears his throat.

"Dolly Waters?"

He asks carefully,

"Y-es?"

The tubby bastard lights up like the Fourth of July,

"Oh my! Listen, hey, my daughter? A HUGE fan of yours!"

I respond with a little twist of a smile, wiping the snot away from my nose and charming the fuck out of him,

"JANICE!"

He turns to yell at his subordinate, who shifts away in fear from his shout,

"You process these checks right now damnit! I also want Miss Waters to be set up with a safety deposit box, and I want you to PERSONALLY get her money from the vault."

The bank teller is in shock, but promptly get's up from her seat and does as she's told. I'm sure to flip her a well deserved middle finger whilst sticking my tongue out as the manager still has his back turned.

Was it kind of crappy for me to suddenly spring upon an unsuspecting bank with a few months worth of uncashed salary checks from the XWF? Sure it was. But I've been known to procrastinate from time-to-time. It's just the way I am. I'm not sorry for being so unapologetically me. And even though I had to cause a scene to finally get what I rightfully deserved, moments later I was walking out onto the bank stairs flipping a stack of hundred dollar bills like it was no one's business.

Time to get frivolous.

But first...

Cue some triumph music

Okay guys and gals, and the gal inside of the guy, it's Dolly's turn to double dip in the guacamole at the fiesta.

I'm honestly kicking myself fer' being a little late with my promo, and squandering the opportunity to be the first to gush about the prospects of my fellow Tournament competitors. Now y'all've gone and done it to the point where I can't figure out if we're all supposed to be fighting or fucking.

But I will say this, and I'm being sincere here peeps; it truly is an honor to be a part of this final four. I know that no matter what happens, no matter who pulls through and wins this whole shebang, the XWF Universe will be gifted an exciting and unique victor to which they can be proud to watch hoist the twenty-four seven case...

Well...

'Cept fer' Game Girl. She can find herself fucked by a Koopatroopa' in the Mushroom Kingdom fer' all I care. Honest.

Look, lemme' just get this out of the way- and this goes out to Lux too if it's listening: it doesn't really matter to me how many of you have been SOOO offended by my calling out management in a promo over a month ago. If the words of a slighted and menstruating teenager have you that triggered, then job well done on my part.

Last time I checked the XWF was a wrestling company, not some plumber's union where you have to wade through the shit fer' years, 'waiting yer turn' to get cleaned up. What in the fuck would wrestling be without an angsty character questionably demanding title shots? If it works, then bravo. If not? Then you'll at worst have to defend yer' words against competitors too inept to find anything else to attack you over.

Game Girl, why is it that yer' having to so angrily question my relevance, pip-squeak? As if being "relevant" would really matter to a sixteen-bit bimbo who parades around treating life like a video game. Have I been running around recently screaming that I'm the best thing since next-gen consoles? Nope. And I can't control what people say or don't say about me when naming whatever arbitrary list of wrestlers who they think are awesome or whatever. Last time I checked, Dolly Waters was still ranked fortieth on the XWF All-Time top fifty.

Not bad for someone who has only wrestled a combined seven or so months in their career and admittedly flaked out on the company a few times, huh?

Not bad for someone who is "lucky" to be a champion, huh? Psst! I think you can chalk it up to more than "luck" once you've been a champion of three different titles a combined five different times.

Not too shabby though, huh, for someone who said constantly underperforms- while not realizing you just put to bed yer' entire argument. If I was "underperforming" as you suggested, then what'll happen when I up and decide to perform?

If Dolly Waters is REALLY performing, is she REALLY just lucky to be here?

You went into some feeble and nonsensical spiel about who did what and tried what against who-gives-a-fuck in the first and second rounds, saying the only reason I'm here is that I beat up a drunk Mexican? All while totally leaving out the fact that I put a decisive, first ever, L in the win-loss column of that attention crazed fangirl of yers', Vita Valenteen.

You know?

The newest twenty-four-seven recipient?

So what does that make Vita if I'm just a blond headed little brat who is soooo mediocre? Does that make her total shit? Because from the way you describe what's good and what's not depends solely on who works hardest at capturing one of those thingamajiggers.

Sorry, Game Girl, yer' not only wrong but yer' also totally stupid. If you used the same amount of effort in a match against some shit wrestler that cost Vita the Tag Titles, as Carnes used against me- how does that spell anything for me? What does that have the slightest bit of any-fucking-thing to do with Dolly Waters? I mean seriously? Are you high? Do you need someone to come and blow the dust from your cartridge so you can function without saying stupid shit?

Do you really want to talk about people not showing up in opportunities to win a briefcase? If you do, we can, because I happen to remember some OBVIOUSLY UNDERPERFORMING lackluster little Comicon sideshow glitching all over the ring in my first round match of Lethal Lottery Four who had her ass handed to her- so tell me again, please, just who in the fuck are you to preach any of yer' morally superior bullshit?

But I will agree with you on this, Girl. The final four are talented, and that includes you and it includes me. I don't know if I'll win either, but I know fer'-fucking-certain that I can. And there's no amount of digging through my past you can use to discredit my confidence. Try it, bitch. I've never faced off against any of you. But I've watched you all work, and not a single one of you have shown me anything that's particularly threatening.

Oh, and just real quick, before I finish up here, I'm struggling with something Lux said earlier. And don't take this the wrong way, Lux, because I like you- hell yer' promo on Cadryn really helped me take a step back and reevaluate where I actually stand. I'm just a really good flake too, ya know?

But you started talking about how you and Lacklan have already pulled away? Kind of suggesting that you all are already beating Game Girl and myself? I really, REALLY don't get that. Pulled away how? By blathering more shrewd insults against yer' opponent? The fuck difference does that make? If you actually think that how many times you open yer' mouth matters, and I'm not talking about blowing Lane in his office fer' a nice payday, either. If you think it really believe that then just go check out a few of the builds to my matches recently. Folks like Zane, Scully, Blackwater, and Aruther dropping multiple vignettes, and little o' underperforming me only dropping one. Spoiler alert: I still win.

What matters fer' real is what happens when we step into that ring. When the bell sounds and all that's left between us is air and opportunity. That's when we'll see who has what it takes to pull ahead.

So here's to you Lacklan, Lux and Dumbass! You'd been waiting to hear from Dolly Waters, and believe-you-me, what you think you might want is not always what you really need. Talk to y'all tomorrow.

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