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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » Relentless Day 2 RP Board 2021
Dark Country Pulp
Author Message
Dolly Waters Offline
Always.



XWF FanBase:
The IWC

(gets varying reactions in the arenas, but will be worshiped like a god and defended until the end by internet fans; literally has thousands of online dorks logging on to complain anytime they lose a match or don't get pushed right)


#1
09-17-2021, 10:47 PM

Broken Commune




“After all of these years, I still don't get it…”

Woods pulled off his cowboy hat and patted the sweat on his receding hairline, turning over to the passenger seat where his longtime partner sat.

“...”

Luis held still, trance-like and peering through the windshield of their Escalade. Looking like a wary business man hesitating in the parking lot before work. His tattered black suit and tie that looked borrowed, and matched Woods’, helped paint that image.

“...well?”

The wrinkles around Woods’ dingy eyes stretched back. His thin cheeks pushing his pepper stubble forward as his jaw swung open, prying Luis for a response,

“...”

Luis tilted his head to the right, just enough to show Woods both of his eyes. They’re so brown that they almost look black, like the shoulder length hairs that are cut into almost femenine wedge.

Woods blinks at Luis a few times and throws his hands up, landing one on the steering wheel and another on his spread leg,

“Goddamn, Luis!”

“What.”

Luis returns a single blink with a single word. His voice is low, and intimidating, with a heavy spanish accent,

“Aren’t you going to ask what I still don’t get after all these years?”

“No.”

“This song, Luis. This goddamn song.”

Unmoved by Woods’ curiosity, Luis turns back to face the windshield.

“Eight years working with you, and every time we show up for a job, you play this Cat Stevens shit.”

“Yusef.”

“Oh, pardon me. Yuuuusef.”

“I like it. It’s a peaceful song.”

“Peace-” he scoffs “-in our line of work.” Woods pulls a silver flask from inside of his suit jacket and takes a hearty swig from it’s cylinder. He screw the top back on and makes a biting exhale from the stout Tennessee whisk, “Don’t you know that Cat Stevens changed his name to Yusef because he converted to Islam?”

“So.”

“So? So Islam is a religion of violence. They stone gays and women who cheat on their husbands to death. This guy-” flask in hand he points at the radio playing Yusef’s ‘Peace Train’, “-doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. Alright?”

“...”

“Just like this fucking place!” Woods turns over his shoulder and looks out of the driver’s side window. “A fucking commune. Don't you know that Communists have murdered millions and millions of people?” Luis pulls his eyes away from the windshield that’s only been giving him an image of a secluded country road in the swamplands. He looks out Woods’ window to see the neglected, but functioning gate to Coreytopia wedged between various shrubbery and accompanied by a guard shack. “Even the supposed good Communists keep blood on their hands.”

“Then we will get along with them.”

Woods turns back to meet Luis’ eyes. With his lips closed he slides his tongue across the top of his teeth and makes a smacking sound with his mouth. He grins, showing a type of gap toothed malice in a smile that could only be worn by a professional killer. “No you’re onto something.” He draws, laying his cowboy hat back on his head. “Let’s get to work”

“But the song isn’t over.”

“Oh fuck this song.” Woods yanks the keys from the ignition and pops out of the vehicle, Luis follows from the passenger side. The men are dressed like odd twins in their battered black business suits and cowboy footwear. Only Luis doesn’t wear a hat and stands nearly a foot taller than Woods who isn’t a small man either.

The late Summer time, Floridian sun beams down on their shoulders as they shift towards the Coreytopia guard shack. The air the match through is stagnant and thick, wreaking of dying blooms. The duos feet stamp into the gravel, making rough sound that matches their strides.

They walk up on the frame of the shack and find that it's unmanned. Woods shoots Luis a puzzled glare, and keeps his eyes fixated on his partner as he struts backward to the main gate. He gives it a push and finds that the gate opens without resistance. “Wow. Wide open. This really is Utopia, huh partner?” Luis’ face remains trance-like and without emotion, only his eyes squinting a bit up the path that leads to Corey Smith’s mansion.

Woods and Luis don’t even make it a hundred feet up the path towards the mansion before they spot two young guys in regular street clothes rushing towards them with walkie-talkies from the mansion balcony. “Hey!” One of them shouts out, as a way of gathering attention from the various commune residents outside tilling the gardens. “They can’t be here!” the other cries out. About twenty pairs of eyes find their way to Woods and Luis from different spots around the front yard and start moving in closer.

“Here we go.” Woods mutters with Luis with confidence before yelling out to the fast approaching security guards. “Hoy you boys doin?” he asks of Michael, a young athletic boy who is filling in for the commune’s regular keeper, Rhonda on her day off. Michael, flanked by his partner Anton, a young Cuban immigrant, stops just in front of Woods and Luis, panting his breath between words.

“Sorry- guys- you can’t…” he leans over to his knees to steady his breath, “You can’t be here.” Anton finishes Micahel’s sentence. “Well how do you know that? For all you know, me and my partner here just bought this property.” Michael stands back straight, “You didn’t buy the property, sirs. Corey would’ve told us.” “Corey?” Woods looks up at Luis and then back to Michael, “Corey Smith? I heard that Corey Smith was paralyzed or something.”, “No, he was in a coma for a while-” “He’s up and moving around again, but he’s not here-” “-he left the other day on a trip.”

“Well I’ll be damned, Luis. The boy wonder pulled through.” Woods plays, giving his stone faced partner a pat on his chest. “Well, that’s okay boys. Our boss didn’t want anything to happen to Corey anyway. We’re here for the girl.” The commune residents begin circling in closer to the four men standing on the concrete path.

“The girl?”

“Yeah! You know-“ Woods holds his hand out to indicate a short height, and then brings it to the side of his head to brush some imaginary long blond hair, “-the girl.”

Michael and Anton say nothing and opt to just stare these intruders down,

Woods chuckles, “Okay, the rassling girl. The one competing for the XWF Xtreme Championship at Relentless? You know? Does the move with the knee. She lives here. Is from Kentucky.” His specificity is sarcastic and aggressive, but he’s interrupted,

“Dolly”

“Damn! Look. At. You.” Woods turns his whole body to face Luis who is locked in a murderous blinking contest with Anton. The young commune security guard feels a physical harm looking into Luis’ eyes and shutters to break eye contact. “Big guy coming through in the clutch!” he turns back to face Michael and Anton, “I’m sorry boys, it’s just that Luis doesn’t talk much, so I get excited when he says cool shit like-”

“Where is Dolly Waters?”

“WOOOOO! HOT DAMN!” Woods jumps up like an Appalachian tap dancer, kicking his feet and hollering. He’s beside himself with a patronizing cries of joy. “Oh shit boys. You two are in tru-bull now! Luis don’t ever-” Luis takes a single stride towards Anton. In one fluid motion he pulls a nine millimeter Star Model B from a holster inside of his suit jacket. The nickel plated piece glows when it hits the sunlight. In no more than two seconds, Luis’ arm is fully extended, taking aim at Anton’s head and pulling the trigger.

Birds scatter from the trees, and a sloppy trail of blood flings out of Anton’s skull falling to the sidewalk before his body drops. Most of the residents that were surrounding the scene scramble away in fear, all of them shrieking, including Michael whose face wretches over like he’s having a stroke. “SO MUCH FOR THE PEACE TRAIN!” Woods belts with laughter, “FUCK YOU, YUSEF!” Luis turns to Michael, and begins his question with another stride, pulling his gun up again,

“Where is Dolly Wa-”

A young man rushes towards Woods and Luis to attack them. Probably hoping more of his comrades would join. Woods picks up on it, and turns while producing a silenced Mac-10 from inside of his suit jacket, and mows the young man down from a few steps away. No one else tries to attack the assassins. They both turn their guns onto Michael, “Aren’t you gonna’ answer my partner, boy? Where is Dolly-”

“She’s not here!” Tessa barks out from the crowd, drawing Woods and Luis’ attention. Tessa is one of Dolly’s 12-step pupils. A dark haired middle aged woman from Brooklyn. She was widowed by a gambling husband who never got around to paying off the sharks, and found her way into hard drugs. Her face was shaped like a covelitte, and her eyes matched it’s color. An olive complexion to her aging skin kept with an exotic, and mysterious beauty.

Luis keeps his pistol on Michael as Woods turns and walks toward Tessa with a predatory smile, he goes to speak but Tessa jolts from her frozen position reveals: “I can take you to her!” Woods quickly presses his lips together and nods while lowering his eyelids. “Well good for you, way to step up to the plate. You can take us to her…” he gets within breathing distance of her, the Mac-10 pointed softly to her chest, “...but not before you give us a personal tour of the infamous Coreytopia.”

Woods leads Tessa with the machine gun pointed to her back beyond the horrified faces of the commune, and up towards the mansion. Luis, following along, brings himself on pace with Tessa at her side.

“Where is she?” he demands while keeping his eyes ahead of him. He’s very adamant about having this question answered. Luis’ words have a physicality about them that makes Tessa’s knees want to lock together in a paralyzing fright. She looks up at Anton, blood splattered across the meaty skin of his neck and his white shirt collar.

She answers his question...


The Doctors



“Continuing this way is going to kill you, Dolly.” Meagan O'Leary, a young African American physician, pleads to Dolly. She rolls her stool over to the XWF Superstar who’s seated with a vexed expression, not on the examining table, but in a regular chair.

Meagan had become Dolly’s primary physician since beginning to wrestle again. These physical exams were routine prior to Dolly’s matches. It’s a pretty moot process, but wrestlers are required to have these physical exams before matches. They have to provide a passing grade from their doctors to the XWF Headquarters before being allowed to compete. The vast majority of results are forgeries. But Dolly hasn’t even had the exam yet, because Dr. O'Leary has given up.

The last time Dolly was in for an exam, it was right before her losing effort against Them No Good Bastards at the OCW Under The Lights pay-per-view, and right after having back to back tag team matches the week prior against the likes of Mark Flynn.

She was lacerated across her forehead, suffering from extreme dehydration, and laboring on multiple torn muscles in her legs. All of that’s not even mentioning the visible bruising that wore like a torn up shirt across her torso. The cracked ribs. Or the sprained ankle.

Dr. O’Leary told Dolly, like she’s told her the last five visits, only her tone growing more desperate each time, “You have to stop wrestling, Ms. Waters…” unable to gather Dolly’s eyes in her own, Dr. O’Leary spats, and huffs, and throws her arms into the air. Standing and giving up on her stool lecture, she turns curtley from Dolly who keeps her eyes focused on the floor.

“Even if you make it out of this match with Jim Caedus alive, you’re not going to live to see the age of twenty going at this rate.” She says while skirting over to a clipboard, and flips through some pages.

O'Leary walks back towards her patient, her eyes focused on a particular chart as she translates what she’s reading in layman's terms, “That gash on your head? Wound dehiscence-”, well not entire layman’s. Dolly feeds Dr. O’Leary a confused glare as she reclaims her stool and peaks out away from the clipboard, “-it means that six inch tear over your eyebrow isn’t healing. You’ve gotten it stitched up…” she checks the paper again, “…four times now. It’s only a matter of time before it becomes infected and causes irreparable damage.”

I've had cuts like this one before. They just go away. she pretty much spits,

“The longer you keep taking shots to the head, the worse that cut will get, and once all that tissue up there has taken too much of a beating, it’ll never heal. Just looking at you, I can tell you have a fever. Dolly you’re in no condition to do any type of physical labor, let alone wrestle.”

Dolly’s face is flushed, and drenched in sweat, dark bags weighing down her eyes with the burdens of her impossible schedule and career.

That’s what you said last time.

“It was just as true then as it is now.”

This match at Relentless is too important. I can’t miss it. This is what I’ve spent these last few months working towards. This cut, these bruises, they got me here, they got me to the most important match of my career.

“I don’t know what else to say. You have so many non-starters in terms of injuries and ailments. Each time I’ve signed one of these papers for you, I felt like I was signing your death warrant.”

But Dolly always came to amaze Dr. O’Leary, every time she limped back into her office, quietly laughing in Death’s face. Dolly has been defying The Reaper in front of The Doctors ever since she drew her first breath into her lungs. Minutes after being pronounced dead in the delivery room from a stillbirth. The life she’s led has left them all puzzled. The truth is there’s something special about Dolly, even beyond her ability to engage in combat with specimens quadruple her size.

Children wrestlers weren’t entirely uncommon, but none of them ever had much of a self life. In Dolly’s case there was something more than just your run of the mill, one-off, freakshow wrestling attraction. That ‘something more’ was a phenomenon that has become steadily more predominant in Dolly’s consciousness over the years. Like a secret hidden in plain sight that she was getting closer to confronting.

Sooo, you gonna’ sign my papers- or?

O’Leary just sighs and shakes her head, “Are you just going to forge my signature if I don’t sign it?”

Yep.

She rolls her eyes at Dolly and pulls the paper off of the clipboard, “Then be my guest. I’m not signing it this time.”

Dolly smiles, and looks over the form as O’Leary hands it over to her and stands up to leave the office, “Did you know that your match against Jim Caedus is a barbed wire ropes match?”

Dolly chuckles and makes a sheepish little tilt with her head, Yeah, they must really hate Jim.

“Or you…” she responds with a bit of sass coming over her features and through her tone,

Or both of us.

“Whatever” she harrumphed, “Go on and have your wrestling match. It’ll be your funeral." No sooner than Dr. O’Leary closed the door on Dolly, leaving her alone in the exam room, there’s a buzz from Dolly’s pocket. She pulls out her iPhone and checks the call screen, it reads: Commune Landline. She answers the phone to a series of cries that crackle through her speaker.

Dolly’s face turns even more flush, her eyes wide and the sweat pouring across the gash on her forehead. She slides up to her feet, feeling the fever sweats run cold against her skin from her drenched clothes. Wait- wait, slow down. she responds to the frantic voice on the other end of the call. Did you call the police? - - - Okay, good. Where’s Cor- - - what do you mean they’re gone?! - - - THEY TOOK TESSA WHERE?!” the voice on the other lines replies back loud enough to hear it beyond Dolly’s ear: “To find you!”


promo



At Relentless Noir, I’m the challenger.

I am the one without, looking to take, looking to topple, looking to transform the landscape of the XWF... forever.

But it doesn’t feel that way, does it, Jim Caedus?

It doesn’t feel like you have anything to offer me. Check the respective track records of Jim Caedus and Dolly Waters since each of our returns to the XWF back at Leap of Faith.

Think long and hard about it, Jim, and honestly ask yer’self who has accomplished more. Which of us keeps this business more entertaining, and translates that into actual in-ring results and not forgone booking conclusions? Who has an actual presence in the XWF, and who's been just dragging their dick around the hallways treating this business like an online dating site?

When you think about it that way, it certainly doesn’t feel like I’m challenging you for anything.

Why would I?

You have nothing to offer me, Jim. Only something that I'm going take from you.

On the surface of this contest to come, the billing is written in plain English. The reigning XWF Superstar of the Month, the War Games finalist who pinned the XTreme and Television Champions in the same night, Dolly Waters, versus...

“The XTreme Champion”, Jim Caedus.


Dolly rolls her eyes,

The man who was supposedly revived by Vinnie Lane to counter Theo’s corporate chaos at Leap of Faith, only to somehow crash and burn, even at zero gravity.

But the facts differ from what everyone -feels- about this match, don’t they? The fact is you ARE the XTreme Champion, and I am the challenger to yer’ reign, Jim, as lackluster and pitiful as it’s been. On paper, I’m the one with something to prove. I’m not the one who gets HANDED opportunity after opportunity only to piss them away, while constantly teetering on the edge of total self-destruction and embarrassment. Nope...

I’m the one who has to grab your BULLshit of a championship run by the horns and make it memorable. That’s why I won’t fault anyone for not feeling like Jim is even involved in this match. His regard for hyping it up, for acknowledging it, for giving it the heat deserving of a Relentless Main Event has been non-existent. Jim Caedus has been happy to sit back and let everyone else direct his meaningless return to the XWF, match after match, appearance after appearance. More concerned about reviving his ability to get an erection rather than reviving his career.

You had to be conscripted into Betsy and Robert’s little vanity project of a “war” against B.O.B. Used as prop to make the world believe that someone other than Drew Archyle gave a damn about Thunder Knuckles splitting Robert Main’s melon open. Go ahead and keep up yer’ virtue signaling about your APEX Brothers, Jim. It’s all a load of shit, and honestly, Robert and Drew deserve better.

Because what did that brotherhood mean to you during WarGames? I was with Robert, I know how gobsmacked he felt when you heard you run him underneath a verbal buzzsaw. When the dust settled over Bethel Woods and I saved Robert Main from JimCaedus, he took you right back, without question.

It was a tender moment, but again, it was all about making Jim Caedus appear a certain way, wasn’t it?

Making Jim Caedus appear like he gave a damn about all the wrong doings Robert Main suffered at the hands of Chris Page and B.O.B. because you all still had business to take care of against the Baddies, business that you nearly bankrupted on behalf of Apex-Legacy.

It was an act.

Because later that night, after I saved Robert Main for the second time, there was Chris Page, taking Robert out of the equation, and leaving me to fight Alias and Corey Smith by myself.

What were your words after WarGames, Jim? What did you say about Chris Page after he screwed Robert Main out of his undefeated streak at WarGames?


“I’m gonna’ kill you, Chris Page”


But yer’ words and yer’ actions were teetotatly trite and fucking meaningless. Because rather than challenge Page on your “Brothers” behalf, what did you do? You got caught up in Corey and Thad’s confrontation. Posting gifs of angry, emo anime eyes like a scorned little online dork.

What did you expect, Jim? That Corey Smith was going to come looking for YOU after WarGames?

YOU?!

The washed-up old dog he whipped at Leap of Faith?

The incoherent, synonym-sucking blowhard who got blasted by Dolly Waters at WarGames, while trying, and failing, AGAIN, to outshine the shadow of APEX that defines his career?

Jim Caedus loses his XTreme Championship to me at WarGames. I lost the belt to Corey Smith, and Jim felt like HE, of all people, was owed something. Could you fail any harder? See, unlike your facade of friendship with Main that you use to keep yer’self relevant, there were actual emotions involved in the clusterfuck that became of Continuum.

While you were acting like a little piss-panty wearing baby, Corey challenged Thad like any normal human would in reaction to their shattered-mug of a friendship. If there was ANYBODY deserving of a fucking rematch for the XTreme Championship, it was me. But you didn’t see me boo-hooing did ya’? Because again, like a normal human, and not some over-hyped, ill-wired, ticking time bomb, I was concerned about my best friends falling apart.

I was concerned about what would become of them, and you Jim?

After WarGames you didn’t give a fuck about Robert Main, you only cared about yer’self. You selfish, trim chasing, lazy piece of garbage. If you were SOOO concerned about righting whatever wrongs you thought took place at WarGames, why didn’t you come after me, Jim? Why didn’t you lay down the challenge to Dolly Waters? Why didn’t you want to show the world that you could handle the girl who handed you yer’ ass at Woodstock?

Because, getting back to facts, Jim knows he’s lost a step in terms of his ability versus mine. Four years ago in the Lethal Lottery Finals, in the triple threat match against me and Trax, the legend of Jim Caedus was born. He won the briefcase that gave him the one and ONLY significant achievement of his career. The Universal Title cash-in on Gabe Reno.

Let’s think about that…

I’m sure what’ll be said is predictable. Jim will tell ya’ that Trax was the real challenge of that match, and that the fourteen year-old Dolly Waters was an afterthought. But he knows, deep down, that it’s bullshit.

Afterall, at the end of that match, who was ontop of that ladder with you, Jim? Inches away from ripping down yer’ legend before it even found it’s mantle?

It was Dolly Waters.

Who was the one that pushed you to yer’ limit? Forcing you to cut more promos than you ever have before, or since?

It was Dolly Waters.

So again, when you think about it, the fact is that Jim Caedus won his place in XWF lore because of me, and you know what? It was well deserved, right? You threw a teenage girl off from a ladder to effectively win yer’ one and only Universal Title. I commend you for it, and I always have. You beat me, Jim.

But fast forward to WarGames 2021. Jim Caedus doesn’t beat Dolly Waters this time, and while I’ll admit it was a team effort in our win, and you were dealing with four different warriors, just like I was, the result is still telling.

Jim Caedus is four years older, slower, and more desperate to not be washed away into the history books. Me on the other hand? I’ve grown faster, stronger, and am only a couple inches shorter than you now. My knee reaches yer’ mouth a lot easier these days, doesn’t it? Fucking hurts too huh? Well, be ready, Jim… we’re just seven days away from you eating again.

Now, since you didn’t have the time, or the care to put any heat on this match, please allow me to do the champion’s job for him, AGAIN, and properly explain what’s at stake here. Let me explain to you, since I’m sure it’s floated right over yer’ head, why it’s Dolly Waters that’s Main Eventing Relentless with you, Jim. It’s because I EARNED this spot. Because I set the wrestling world ablaze.

Even coming out of WarGames, where I fell short in the end, the talking heads weren’t buzzing over Corey Smith and Alias. They for damn sure weren’t concerned about Caedus. They were fixated on what was next for Dolly Waters.

Like defeating your Apex-Legacy leader, Betsy.

Winning the OCW Margarita Mix.

-oh, and before you tell me that OCW shit doesn’t matter, ask yer’self why Theo Pryce is showing up on their television sets-

But what else?

Oh, Vinnie Lane hand picking me to be the Commissioner of Anarchy?

Superstar of the Month in August?

Being signed by the rather exclusive OCW?

Putting in a high work-rate to help better, not just the XWF, but the wrestling industry overall. I wake up and earn my stripes every day.

What have you done, Jim? Seriously. It’s an honest question.

Outside of running roughshod over rookies like Charlie, Marf, Lycana and LSM, and getting handed one unwarranted opportunity after the next… What is there?

Oh, you manhandled a mid-coma Corey Smith in the most telegraphed mismatch in recent history….

Aaaand, what else?

Oh, you were a footnote in the snore-war against B.O.B, getting outshined by every other member of Apex-Legacy, and being made to look like a fool.

Anything else?


Dolly shakes her head to the background noise of crickets chirping,

Not-a-goddamn-thing.

You see Jim, that by itself explains the stakes here. I’m the reason this match is elevated to the Main Event. So it’s either do as I’m being called upon to do, and take that XTreme Championship back, giving it a PROPER waist to line...

-or-

...see it float around with this dolittle version of Jim Caedus for another month or two before he gets distracted, has a meltdown and inevitably falls short of winning a 24/7 Case.

Allow me to spare the XWF audience of that shit-show. I’m taking the title back at Relentless.

Hell, that’s if Jim even makes it to Chicago with the platinum plate. But if that’s the case, I’ll just kick his ass and go take the belt back from whatever puddle he’s dropped it in.

You see, this moment actually means something to me. It means a whole helluva lot more than almost blowing it before the finish line. Because I’ve never been handed constant opportunities in XWF. I’m not a Golden-boy. I’m not a poster child. And yet, no matter what era of talent I’m wrestling amongst, I’m always right there nipping at the heels of ANYONE who has ever been considered a top-dog while I’ve been here. Always right on the cusp of something truly special. A finalist in March Madness, in Lethal Lottery, in WarGames… yet always the bridesmaid. But each time learning. Each time coming back and improving. Each time going harder than the time before.

This moment for me means more than putting down Jim Caedus again.

It means more than proving I can do it outside of WarGames and in a one on one. I’m GOING to prove that to you. The only reason yer’ even on my radar is because of the championship you hold. I’m going to take that belt, I’m going to EARN my case, and use it on whatever in the hell I want. Maybe the Universal Championship, or even better, a match with that coward Thad Duke.

It means getting my moment to laugh in the faces of every hater who’s ever brushed me aside, and you can be a welcomed addition to that list again, Jim. I’m going to solidify what the entire XWF universe is feeling about this matchup. That Dolly Waters is going to roll through Chicago, exposing Jim Caedus as an old bitch who’s best years are behind him.

You came back to the XWF with all of this hype, and yet I shattered the mystique of Jim Caedus with one knee to the mouth. Just think about it… in the lead up to WarGames you tried, and failed, to shit on me by asking what I’d done recently. Jim Caedus wasn’t impressed with Dolly Waters. I was just some cameo bitch. Totally ignoring the fact that I was only months removed from having put on one of the biggest XWF events of the year. One that set the course for everything in the XWF from then, until now, and one that thoroughly beat Jim Caedus’ return in every one of Theo Pryce’s TV rating metrics.

You see, Jim… I was already beating you before you even got back in the ring. So if I was nothing but a flake, and failure, and a cameo spot prior to WarGames where I stripped you of yer’ championship and made an example out of all that bullshit you were saying, just what do you think is going to happen this time? This time when you can’t deny what’s standing right infront of you. The reigning Star of the Month, Dolly fucking Waters.

What now, bitch?

Are you going to say I’m jacking yer’ promo style again? Here, what if I populate some laughing emojis just to chafe yer' shriveled ballsack.


🤣🤣🤣🤣you fucking crybaby!🤣🤣🤣🤣

I’m not sure what’s funnier, Jim Caedus acting like he invented trash talk, or the thought that ANYONE would want to replicate that garbage. It’s like one of those alliteration posters hanging in doctors offices grew a pair of legs and discovered the art of tripping itself up. Jesus, Jim, you sound like an extraterrestrial who’s just discovered the English language. What an insecure, and downright sad reach that was. I was in the XWF shredding folks on the mic long before you ever showed up here, and I’m proud to know that we sound nothing alike.

Like how you can be in a promo at Leap of Faith, crying about Corey Smith discrediting newcomers in the XWF, and just last week be in another promo trying to discredit LSM’s nationality. Oh boy, Jim! You really showed the rookie something here.

You fucking hypocrite.

Jim can go playing around in Betsy’s fantasy Star Wars world, and then act like he doesn’t believe in something as mundane as a wrestler’s nationality.

Go. Fucking. Figure.

That’s all Jim Caedus knows how to do, is try his damndest to shit on the wrestling industry acting like he’s arbiter of what’s real and what’s fake. The only problem is, nothing is real to Jim, everyone is fake, everyone is lying and plotting and trying to get one over on him.

In 2017 he all but accused Dexter Bright of being Dolly Waters in disguise and went off the deep end soon after having his ass handed to him. Nothing seems real to Jim because he himself is nothing but a fraud, so he tries boxing everyone up, and pretending that the collective wrestling world is as miserable, and paranoid, and distracted by psychosis as he is.

You brought up “backstage” bellyaching during WarGames, while gushing like a bleeding cunt about some Star of the Month award four years ago. Ain’t that a kick in the head?

Do it again, Jim.

Take it there again.

Find yer’ place in the back in yer’ natural habitat of the weeds, like a scared little garden snake. I’ll fucking mow down and leave you in bits and pieces all over the yard, you bitch. I hoped for better when we faced off at WarGames, but I knew you would be incapable of making a sound argument on yer’ own merit. You’ve never been able to. That’s why you coming back was nothing special. Just the same old inadequate Caedus, with an even limper dick than before.

I’ve set the stakes for this match, Jim. I’ve brought it to these ends by giving it the proper means and meaning. And now I’ve told you why yer’ fucked five back to the loony bin. Because between the fact of you being in this position, and the feeling everyone has that you shouldn’t be here is me, Dolly Waters. The former bridesmaid, about to catch my bouquet and remind the world at Relentless Noir that not everything is black and white.

Jim Caedus is the Xtreme Champion…

Only for as long as I’ve allowed him to be…

His time is up at Relentless.

3x XTreme Champion
2x Tag Team Champion (w/ Vita Valenteen, w/ Charlie Nickles)
2x Hart Champion
2x Television Champion

3x Star Of The Month
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

my loves:
[spoiler]
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