The year 2017 was one of great consequence and global reflection. It saw a reality television star be sworn in as President of the United States. The storm of societal polarization that followed behind him can’t be understated. Even in an unusually gusty hurricane season that rocked coastal cities around the world. The untethering of knotted cultural norms were on full display. Racists sang freely of their convictions in the streets. The benign, and already watered-down anti-fascists found themselves drowned in a flood of bougie-liberal outrage. What could be perceived as a knee-jerk reaction to a woman losing the presidential election to a chauvinist, and likely-incest pig, women all across the country turned the streets pink with their vagina hats.

By the Spring, a story both antithetical and collinear to this time of female emaciation was unfolding in the world of professional wrestling. Dolly Waters, a teenage girl, was establishing herself as one of the best wrestling talents in the world. In a sport dominated by men. After participating in one of the greatest contests of all time against Jim Caedus and Trax, Dolly’s stock was rising to otherworldly heights. This plucky underdog born in squalor was suddenly becoming a rallying cry for melodramatic women looking for a symbol to justify a call to outrage. They were all about to get their #metoo movement in a most sordid display, but would they care?

Dolly Waters was wrapping up her sophomore campaign as a wrestler, and as the reigning XWF Xtreme Champion, was beginning her ascent to the gates of wrestling Valhalla. But one peculiar pairing on an episode of Saturday Savage would change the trajectory of her career forever. After a tag team table match that saw Dolly eliminate Chris Chaos, her partner Micheal Graves would turn on Dolly, striking her in the mouth with a pair of black steel knuckles. Gagging on blood, Dolly lied nearly lifeless before an agast and outraged crowd. But that was only the beginning. Graves would slither his body over hers and slide his tongue inside the mouth of the helpless female minor.

The event sent shockwaves around the world, but just like the rest of 2017’s profound displays of vile patriarchy, it soon fizzled out like the fuse to a dud firework. After being force-fed benign outrage that wilfully painted itself as reactionary rather than genuine, society had grown numb to the vagina hats just as the worst was about to begin. After what appeared to be obvious grooming by Micheal Graves onto his prey, Dolly Waters, he started stalking her. Graves was terminated by the XWF multiple times by Theo Pryce, but reinstated those times over by Vincent Lane. Obsessed and vowing to make Dolly his bride, Micheal defeated Dolly for the Xtreme Championship and kidnapped the young combat prodigy. From there rumors of the most horrible acts began to surface. Even if you don’t know, you’re already thinking of them. The verbs I’d dare not name.

From there, the story went cold until a presumably escaped Dolly Waters made her return to the XWF in 2019. This once lifeful, bustling spirit of great promise, and ability was nothing more than another collapsed star, like so many teenage acts before her, and the countless ones throughout the cosmos. She had turned cold, jaded, cynical, and flirting with her disposition to addiction and alcoholism. Some might say that this new edge to Dolly rallied her to an impressive 10-2 record in 2019, seeing her become a two-time Hart Champion and make the March Madness finals. An edge that saw her exact revenge upon Micheal Graves in an unsanctioned street fight on that same PPV program. Madness was an understatement. Dolly had already blown both of Micheal’s knees out with a hot .38 revolver when she drew the pistol to his forehead. The hatred between these two was a hatred that carried to the grave. Management intervened, stopping Dolly from murdering Micheal. In a moment of respite, Dolly went limp and spared Micheal his life… only to find herself kidnaped by her rival again. The brewing culture wars in society spurned indifference to Dolly’s plight. And so then- silence again for the story. Until now…

These two bitter foes have crossed paths again. Much like the cultural upheaval that began in 2017, their fight continues just on a different channel. Their destinies seem intertwined almost. Dolly on the precipice of a breakthrough in smashing the ego of the past she turned away from. Micheal Graves, chasing the dragon of an old fantasy still pressing like itching blisters from heroin needle wounds. The abandoned child star fighting for dignity, and the sadistic mirror of contempt that ripped that dignity away from her. The diametrically opposed set to do battle once more.

But this time, Dolly is living inside of…

The Loathsome Bones

”Call me Dolly.”

Even my reflection from the dusty vanity glared back with a smiling incredulity, slumped as I was in my pose. Red high-heels strangling into my pasty feet. A summer dress barely fitting over my manly frame, my hand trembles with the lipstick painting my mouth. I’m losing it…

I thought I knew who I was, but more and more I’m only finding less and less of Dolly Waters. I’ve looked upon my reflection now for the millionth time, and I still can’t believe what I’m seeing. The face of the man who was responsible for so much harm, so much agony in my life is all I’m met with. It’s like the play No Exit, where the people go to hell and find there are no mirrors, all they can see and cast judgment on are one another. There’s no devil. There’s no tortureor. They’re damned with one another, set to torment themselves for eternity. That’s Graves v. Waters in a nutshell.

Nobody believes me anymore, even Corey, who I would consider a kind of kindred spirit of a friend. My wonder twin in a sense. Even he has abandoned the notion that I’m Dolly Waters, the victim of some metaphysical punishment and held captive in Micheal Graves’ body. You know the old saying? If everyone else in the room seems like an asshole, maybe you’re the problem? Who am I to doubt these people anymore?

I tried remembering my way home. Where I thought was home. Trudging through a flurry of spit and disgust from the occasional passerby who would shout things like:

“YOU SICK FREAK!”

“I HOPE YOU DIE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

“FUCK YOU BABY-RAPER!”

In reaction to the body of Micheal Graves being present, and I found myself here… not at the commune. Not with my friends and comrades. No, here in this dusty and neglected pseudo-mansion. Abandoned into a state of something worse than purgatory, and conspicuously plotted right next door to Vinnie Lane and Roxy’s estate. Where their home was brimming with Florida sunshine, like a fresh lightbulb in a socket, this place knew only clouds and fog. The looks on Vinnie and Roxy’s faces as I- “Micheal Graves” - broke into my own home… Well, I’ll just leave that to the imagination.

Stumbling through this house, finding these old women's clothes that in some way must’ve always belonged to me, it all became clearer the more the fog crept through. I felt this great anguish, and it was familiar, but it wasn’t mine. It wasn’t Dolly’s. I recognized the old prickings of child trauma. But thinking back to those times, I didn’t see Dolly lying on the floor of a dirty trailer, starving, alone, and grasping at her stomach. I saw a boy whose parents had died. A boy tormented by his peers. He too was alone and starving and grasping for the empty.

Every fear, every insecurity, every horrible feeling I ever internalized, I felt them all… but they weren’t Dolly’s. They were Micheal’s. This is who I had been at war with for so long. Myself. Know thy enemy. Such a boring and cliche sentiment until now. Sun Tzu, eat your heart out. I AM my enemy. Those people spitting on my body, screaming profanities at me? Should I ever forget those feelings? I knew them once before, and even worse, I knew the dread of being treated with something more than hate, something more like indifference. Into that despair, I would plunge.

I stalked Dolly Waters. Became obsessed. Pretended to be her, when all along I was always Micheal Graves. A fearful boy reaching out for something I felt was denied to me. Maybe it was justified, and probably it wasn’t, but I did it anyway. Screaming out for attention. Shuttering at the thought that the world had passed me by. A deep, insecure desire to prove something to somebody… anybody who would give me the time of day. I wanted people to care the way that I cared. To feel the way that I felt. To understand that I had been wronged and that I deserved redemption.

I hatched a plan to kidnap her before our match against Atara Themis at Savage. I had it all planned out. The logistics were sound. I would bring her here, and take Dolly Waters back, once and for all. I took a step and my ankle rolled in the high heels. I crashed about the room, knocking various items around and something very curious fell before me as I struggled to my knees. It was hard and heavy and clanked against the tile floor. Unknown Soldier’s pentagram. The relic Cadryn Tiberius claimed held the power to switch mine and Dolly’s bodies back. This was the key, this is how I fix everything, or so I thought. Just like everything I’ve tried to will in my favor. To right the perceived wrongs of my life. It turned into ash in the palm of my hand. It was then that I realized there was no fix, because there’s nothing to fix. I’m Dolly Waters. I’m Micheal Graves. We’re the same person, and we always have been. My boisterous shouts of the past complimented him because they were of the same essence. The same gnawing desires to coat our sordid histories. A desperate attempt to paint these loathsome bones with anything other than our inherent colors.

Micheal’s memories, and emotions drained away, and I found myself making the short trek down the road from Micheal’s mansion to Coreytopia. Night had fallen and I was home again, though I felt like I never really left. I saw my custom, all black, ‘91 Harley Davidson Fatboy sitting out in the driveway. The one Thad gifted me because he’s a sweetheart. There was a moment of waiting, and wondering still: ”Am I crazy? Am I just trying to stalk her?” my suspicious all but died, right along with this twisted story as I wrapped my legs, still in the summer dress mind you, around the bike's frame. The ignition had a custom turn that only I knew, and a hidden spot on the handlebar to start the engine. I started it right up and drove away from the commune with a different destination in mind now. Graves could have my body if he truly wanted it... those loathsome bones weren't so unique. I didn't need a mirror to know who I was. I'm Dolly Waters, and no matter what, I will always roll with the changes.




-the end-