The Ol’ Switcheroo

The scene opens in a grimey basement hallway. The floor, the walls, the barely functioning fluorescent lights above, all covered with a pinch of dust. There’s an inhumane groan of anguish that’s reverbating from the tight walls.

Where are we?

…the groans grow louder

Amidst some Tender Love and Care? Not likely…

…and louder

Thrashing among some Tables, Ladders and Chairs? Not yet… but nearly

We’re shown a beautiful white pair of sneakers in a doorway. They slide back for a few motions over, dusting the clean-off from their perfect outsoles before stepping into the dirt covered hallway.


As the clean sneakers deliberately drag into the hallway, gathering dirt and grime with intention, we’re hearing snippets of Dolly Waters’ promo on the final episode of XWF Wednesday Warfare, from December, 28th.


With just a few steps toward their destination, the sneakers, once sparkling white and pure, are already unrecognizable.


Caked with a sewer worthy slop. Something vile and angry down below, it dries quickly with each time the sneakers rise in step, crusting over with a new hateful layer of dirt.


The sneakers, completely black now, are nestling in comfortably to the filth below as the hallway narrows to an end. An end with a door.


The image moves up from the corrupted pair of sneakers, circling up a body fully clothed in black garments, and now facing the young woman who’s voice we’re hearing. Dolly’s upper lip twists into a snarl as she faces a closed doorway ahead. Where there’s groaning bellowing through the slim cracks.

We hear her speaking in real time now,

…this had better worked, damnit.

Dolly pulls a decadent metal key out of her pocket. The legs of the key spell 'BOB', and she inserts it into the seemingly impassable door. We hear a sudden clicking sound, then Dolly retracts the key. The metal door starts sliding down into the floor, accompanied by the horrendous sounds of metallic scratching. Dolly winces, nearly cringing; not from the sounds of metal, but from the sounds of the man inside.

Bullet with a name on it. BULLETS WITH YOUR NAMES!

The camera cuts to a shot over Dolly's shoulder, displaying the gruesome scene behind the forbidden door. We see a masked man twitching back and forth in a rustic rocking chair, clawing at his own bloody face with broken nails. Literal broken nails. He must have pulled them out of the antique chair! The madman is scratching his mask with the rusty nails as he screams to himself.

How are we feeling, Cap’n Chuck? Did the treatment help?

The man in the mask turns to the door as it opens, revealing that he is hooked up to all sorts of IVs, about half a dozen, and they all seem to be running down from the ceiling directly into the back of his mask, near the bottom of his skull. Four of the IV fluids are clear, one is red, and one is a raspberry blue, almost exactly like the color of Mtn Dew Voltage. On the wall near Dolly rests a lever embedded inside the wall.

When do I get to go home, Dolly? I just want to be a family man again….

Hmmm…..

Dolly places one finger on her chin ponderously.

It seems like we need to up your dosage to get you ready for Snow Job!

No! Not again! I don't want to be turned into that monster anymore! That demon is NOT ME! Take this mask off me, don't let those Bastards do this to me AGAIN, Dolly! Not again! I can't take it!

Oh….sure you can!

Dolly reaches for the lever and pulls it with a remorseless smile plastered to her face.

NOOOO-AGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

The man behind the mask starts twitching more violently than before as electricity flows through his chains AND through his veins! His cries of anguish ring out through the basement, but no one cares to hear them. The fluid inside the IVs suddenly starts surging into his bloodstream, and the wires connecting his head to the ceiling start moving rapidly due to the immense force of the liquids moving through them. A few seconds pass before the man rolls back in his chair, still and seemingly lifeless.

For better, for worse, Chuck, we’re makin’ this change.

Charlie groans and rolls his head forward. The scene fades from a shot on his mask.

…earlier in the week...

The camera pans a waiting room full of the happiest, most joyful and the free spirited patients, tucked between plastic shelves holding pamphlets about Asperger’s, abstinence and animosity. Their eager, twisted bodies rocking back and forth next to their guardians in plastic chairs. Sloppy, drool oozing smiles and wandering, vacant eyeballs. It all resembles a scene straight from The Cuckoo's Nest.

The camera finally settles on the seated duo of Dolly Waters and Charlie Nickles. The Nickleman is far too large for the chair, as his heavy body practically spills out of it. Dolly looks downright annoyed to be here, and she turns to Charlie to let him know- but before she can speak, The Nickleman is already piping up!

What low down and vile thing is this human vermin going to spew?

Dolly, I just wanted to say….thanks for coming here with me. It means a lot to have your support right now.

Dolly rolls her eyes.

You told me we were going to vandalize the Lacklan church, fatass.

She eyes the room over, studying the patrons,

Plenty of mindless drones here, sure… but there’s too much literature with actual science and fact based studies for this to be anything like a religious gathering.

Well, I just wanted to make sure someone would be here to support me…and no one would've come with me if I told the truth.

Dolly turns and settles her glare onto her tag team partner,

What truth? That after I had to drag you like a leashed child to yer’ wildest dreams, yer’ still regretting it? And need therapy?! We showed the world on Weekend Warfare that greatness ain’t found on some imaginary altruistic plain. It’s found down in the dirt, and grime, in the willingness to do whatever it takes, no matter how dirty yer’ hands get.

YOU might’ve showed them that, Dolly-

-yer’ goddamn right I did!

She cuts him off,

-And I’m going to KEEP showing them all that despite management’s best efforts to force a bunch of generic “good guys” into their championship scene, there’s no obstacle they can place before me that can stop this change i’m imposing-

Mid rant, Dolly’s phone rings. She places up an index finger toward Charlie and answers the call.

I thought I told you to only call me when it’s important…

It’s from some poor soul she’s hired to keep up with her professional checks and balances. We can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but from the look on Dolly’s face, as it contorts with disgust and venom, this obviously IS an important call.

...THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THEY BOOKED AS AT SNOWJOB?!

She leaps up from her chair shouting for everyone in the lobby to hear. Charlie tries patting her arm to calm her, but it does no good. Dolly jerks away and stomps to the middle of the room, walking in circles as she continues to scream.

“Ma’am? I need you to sit-”

A receptionist tries asserting some authority, but it’s of little use

FIGHT ME, OR FUCK OFF!

She barks back, then continues on scolding the person on the other end of the phone.

You tell those good fer’ nothin dimwits in management that I haven't agreed to ANY championship match yet- let alone a goddamn triple threat, tornado TLC clusterfuck!

……she takes a half-breath while listening,

…well tell them again! … WHO?!?? … Graves and Barney Green? What is this? 2012?! …who else?!... WHO?!!

Dolly’s teeth are gritting. They’re on the verge of cracking harder than the mental patients filling the room.

She looks over to Charlie. His face is white with horror as he watches her demeanor slide away from a state of high tension, into an unnerving vacant glare. Not breaking eye contact with Charlie, Dolly drops the phone to her hip and hangs up like she’s on autopilot. She walks to him, and drops to one knee at the base of his chair.

Her voice is low, and stoic, even with a little hint of forced sweetness,

...Charlie? Whatever shock therapy yer’ gonna’ get to quit being such a quivering puss-boy, you better get it all done today. Because at SnowJob we’re defending the tag championships against Graves and Green… and against…
The calm in her tone cracks a bit with an involuntary twitch of the eye, and pull to the corner of her mouth,

... Vaughn and Lacklan… but just like before-

She breathes deeply,

...we’re gonna steal this match. One way, or the other. Do you understand me?
   
I can’t.

A blood vessel bursts in Dolly’s eye, turning one of them completely red as she leaps from the floor, and roars into Charlie’s face like a cartoon character,

ThE FUCK YOU CAN’T!

I’ll CRACK YOU IN THE HEAD WITH A SHOVEL AGAIN, AND WHEELCHAIR YOU TO THAT GODFORSAKEN STADIUM IN WISCONSIN MYSELF IF I’VE GOTTA!

...but Dolly, I have a follow up appointment with my therapist the same day as SnowJob

...all the therapy YOU need is gonna’ be in that wrestling ring, finishing the job against Sarah Lacklan from Relentless two years ago. And this time, she WONT recover, understood?

Sarah, Angie…..those sweet women don't deserve all that I've put them through. I've wallowed for too long in the dark recesses of my mind, those tormented halls bare nothing but pain and depravity. But whenever I traveled to those dark places, I never went there alone. I also took the beautiful women with me: I made the women share my pain, in hopes they would absorb it, and liberate me from these depravities! I thought that if I could peel back their flesh and squeeze out their sweet nectar, then maybe I'd be able to taste that sweetness in my own life.

No wonder those women are afraid of me.

Angie sees me as a raging balled fist of antipathy and remorselessness. My mere presence worries her- and for good reason. Stealing championship belts is just the tip of my iceberg….I mean, did you see what I did to Lacklan's career?

I don't want to put Sarah through that again…I know she still lives with my trauma. When I exposed her sextape I broke her spirits, when I spoke of her Father's legacy I broke her brand, and when I met her in the ring I broke her back like a god damned bull in a brothel! It's no wonder she had to relinquish the universal championship immediately after our match…I made her unable to handle the weight of the XWF on her shoulders. I can’t be responsible for doing that again. You’ll have to go it alone at Snow Job.

...later on…

We see Dolly sitting at a computer desk, slamming her fingers into keyboard with a fevered aggression.

FINE! Those scheming cheats in XWF management want to try and take back the championships that I worked so hard to steal???

She mutters to herself, before looking over her shoulder at the freshly opened Amazon package.

Selfish pricks can have em’!

The camera pans closer to the box, showing a replica pair of the XWF Tag Championships inside.

...in the meantime, I’ll just get rich and use my clout to get all types of underserved championship opportunities, just like those cunts Vaughn and Lacklan!

She finishes typing something, and clicks on her mouse…

Wrestling Memorabilia Trading Hub Said:

Tired of girls laughing at you because you buy worthless replica XWF Championships like a dweeb? This is your chance to be a REAL man for once! Because fresh on the trading hub are the authentic XWF Tag Team Championships. That’s right, the actual NEW GEN belts worn by APEX, TNGB, MF&NK, DOLLY WATERS -and no one else worth mentioning- CAN BE YOURS NOW!

For the low low price of 500,000,000 per belt, O.B.O

Serious inquiries only plz!

Immediately after the advertisement goes live on the wrestling memorabilia website, there’s a bang at Dolly’s door.

She darts to the frame and rips at the handle, a look of shock befalling her features…


I heard some motherfucker was trying to sell mine and Bobby’s goddamn championships…

They’re mine and Charlie’s now, but mostly mine… and if you ain’t got the funds, you can fuck right off, TK.

Thunder Knuckles, the former XWF Tag Champion produces a briefcase,

BOB gold is BOB gold! But you want to sell your stakes? Oh I got the fucking funds for that little switcheroo scheme…

Dolly’s eyes light up, and as she grabs for the case of cash, TK pulls it back,

...but I’ve also got some information that might help you change your goddamn mind. Let's just say, BOB has MASKED these type of Charlie problems before….




-to be continued-



T.L.C in the snow at Lambeau Stadium…

It’s becoming a new tradition since the 2021 clash between TNGB, The Leftover Hand and DOCtinuum.

A tradition of the Tag Champions retaining their gold, that Charlie Nickles and I will be cementing this year. 

The timing and circumstances couldn’t be more perfect. With the XWF tag scene having just departed from a pitiful state of apathy and confusion moving towards-

She points down to the both championship belts adorning her waist,

-more favorable Waters… the buffoons in management are doing whatever possible to grasp at their dwindling control.

Management thinks by booking me and Charlie against washed up old era talent, like Graves and Green, and their secret hand picked successors, who they’re hoping will save this division from the GREATNESS I’m bestowing upon it, in Lacklan and Vaughn, that it’ll put a screeching halt to the freight train that’s riding these belts up to the peak of the Pro Wrestling mountains.   

Well, they’re dead wrong.

The XWF might want to rebrand this federation into some cookie-cutter nonsense, filled with censored words, friendships and sportsmanship. But I ain’t letting it go down like that. There’s too much at stake. And I’m the ONLY person, not only INTERESTED in stopping it, but actually capable of shitting down their throats with a grin on my face.

Just ask Angie Vaughn. Because in this matchup at SnowJob, one highlighting perpetual weak sidekicks, LIKE Barney Green, LIKE Angie herself; she should be fully aware of what’s about to go down.

In her promo for Warfare, in the lead up to me stealing these titles, she called me the weak link on this team with Charlie. She even went as far as to praise The Nickleman as a worthy adversary as opposed to myself.

Then what happened?

With Charlie comatose in a wheelchair, the “weak link” took over. I stole those championships from Angie and JMJ, right in front of their faces, and there was NOTHING she, her manager Lacklan, or ANYONE could do to stop me.

Pretty weak, huh?

Now throwing me at them again? With TLC stipulations? Yer’ throwing gasoline on the fire. I won’t have to sneak and hide the levels of shittiness I’m willing to pull out to retain these belts at SnowJob. You’ll all get to feel it… the cold of the steel chairs and ladders, and the splinters of the broken tables. The Running and Rolling Waters icing over the frigid snow, and the hopes and dreams Green Gravy and HSU.

Green Gravy… They’re supposed to be competition? More like a distraction plot by management. What's my record against those pussies: something like 12-0? Seriously, I've beaten the everliving dogshit out of those fake bastards so many times that even I'm starting to lose count of my successes against them!

I beat this team already, years ago on Anarchy, with Jim fucking Jimson holding me back. I've beaten both of these pieces of shit for singles titles, and I've beaten them both in multi man matches, too!

What the fuck are they going to bring to the table this time that's any different? The same tired tropes, the same gender bending, the very same fucking GRAVE plot? THAT'S the most likely.

These boys ran around for years calling themselves BOB but when the going got tough they both quit like the pussies they are: and now look at the fools…they're lost out there on their own, with no one to have their backs or guide their journeys….maybe if Graves still had TK to chart his course for him, he would've beaten Mark Flynn! But alas, these days the only person Graves can rely on is herself….and she can't even rely on her own GENDER for consistency!

Barney's no better. He's a sick joke that's only kept around the roster because he's two brain cells above a disabled parking spot. He's a funny joke, that's it, that's all he's ever been. But come Snow Job, all the laughter ends…..and the horror will begin!

It’s all coming full circle next Sunday… and no amount of Graves’ cartoonish displays of schizophrenic body dysmorphia, or Barney’s “hey look! I’m still here” energy, Vaughn’s whimpering about failing everytime she faces REAL talent, or Lacklan’s “hey look! I’m still here” energy…

Dolly stops and snickers a bit…

None of that is gonna’ stop me and Charlie from climbing the ladder, and climbing beyond while we take these titles to unimaginable new heights.

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]