Nearly seven years ago I debuted in the XWF.

Eight championship reigns, three star of the month awards, and three major tournament finalist placements, against at least three different generations of talent later, and it’s safe to say: Dolly Waters has seen it all in this company.

Every generic hero, and every demon possessed edge-lord. The gritty, the glamorous, the mentally unstable, the tycoons, the legacies, the megalomaniacs, the interdimensional beings… along with all thirty-seven iterations of the “former” Michael Graves.

But of all the archetypes, the schticks if you will, that float in and out of the XWF, there’s one I adore more than any:

Exhibit A:



The Helplessly Oblivious.

That’s right. I adore Angie Vaughn.

It’s the same adoration with which a mother smiles down upon her child taking their first shit in the bathtub. Because despite the migraine-inducing shrillness of her voice, despite her mimicking mindless catchphrases from big-sissy, despite her constantly failing, and whining, and making a mess of everything… At least the messes are easy to clean up.

You make my job soooo much easier, Angie.

Because without me even lifting a finger, you’ve planted yer’ own seed of doubt. You scraped up all yer’ pennies, rode yer’ tricycle down to the Doubt Store, bought the seed, rode it back home to Sarah’s garden, planted it, fertilized it, and watered the thing until it blossomed into that helplessly oblivious promo you decided to cut for this matchup at SnowJob. Allow me to demonstrate…

Dolly holds up a finger, turns around and grabs a jar of peanut butter. She shovels an obscene amount of the nut butter into her mouth, until her jaws are so caked, they can barely move while she speaks. It’s so much that tears well up in her eyes, and brown drool drips from behind her gums and onto her jaw.

“hOpEfUlReAlZiEzzz tHe sNoWjObz rEf tOtEs uNdErStAnDs wHaTs a fOreIgN oBjEcT TEEHEEHHEEEHEEEHE!!!!”

Dolly nails the Angie Vaughn impersonation before opening her jaw, and letting the gob of JIF fall from her mouth, as if to replicate the way Angie spews turds from her mouth each time she speaks.

Hey, Lacklan…

She whispers,

...you might want to remind yer’ sister that we’re booked in a Tables, Ladders and Chairs match this weekend. The only “foreign objects” in this match will be Angie’s concept of preparing for a wrestling contest.

But that goes without saying, doesn’t it?

She was more concerned with what Green Gravy, and the tag champs MIGHT say about you suddenly swooping in to save her sinking ship of an XWF career than she was actually looking to see what type of match we were booked in… my god, she even went as far as to tweet about it.



There you have it folks… the seed of doubt.

And the most hilarious thing? No one really mentioned you holding sissy’s hand, Lack. Not even Gravy, and we ALL know she’s thirsty as fuck for some attention. You know why?

Because we’ve all watched you hold her hand since you walked her to the ring to lose against Jenny Myst in her overhyped debut. In fact, you’ve been with her at ringside in every one of her matches, doing everything you can to see Angie succeed, and what results has that produced exactly?

An 8-7 singles record?

With a half-hearted Ned Kaye in disguise being her most impressive of those wins?

Yikes!

With results like that, I’d say that Vita and I dodged a bullet when you flaked out on managing the Midnight Dolls, wouldn’t you sArUhHh?

Granted, the Dolls had more talent in our little pinkies -mostly my little pinkies- than Angie’s entire five-foot-eleven frame that you basic bitches can’t help but remind us of. Unfortunately, her stature doesn’t make up for her lack of actual wrestling acumen, huh “little big sister”? God, go on and slit my wrists for me while listening to y’all babble out those cliches.

Ain’t it hilarious that Angie saw no true success until she got randomly GIFTED a match against the Dolls?

See, while Vita was too busy paying attention to Graves’ inevitable Universal Championship failure, and I was so utterly uninspired by management’s arbitrary booking that I fell asleep behind the wheel- your partner, your “EQUAL” according to her… R-O-F-L… she picked up the one, and ONLY highlight of her career. No thanks at all to you, Lacklan. No. Thanks to me, and me only.

In one night, I made Angie Vaughn as successful as she’ll ever be in the XWF. And what thanks did I get? That bimbo calling me a weak link? She should’ve been on her hands and fucking knees kissing my boots in gratitude. YOU, Lacklan, you should’ve been sending me royalty checks, because now you can say that you’ve actually been the manager of an XWF Champion. Rather than the manager of a doddering failure.

8-7… Dolly bursts out into a maniacal fit of laughter,

You know what sounds WAY better than 8-7?

Try 15-6…

That’s Dolly Waters’ record in tag team matches entering SnowJob.

Which includes victories OVER Gravy, with her old pal Cadryn as my partner mind you.

Truth of the matter is this, when we boil it all down, DOLLY WATERS is the MOST experienced, most accomplished tag team competitor in this match, bar none. Some of you may look to Lacklan’s forgettable reign as Tag Champion with her wife Kenzi and say: “BUT THE 5’2” MAfia held the tag straps for almost four months!”

It’s true…

But what they’ll fail to mention is that during that four month “reign” as “tag champs”, Lacklan defended these belts ONE TIME, against a pair of rookies, Ned Kaye and Big D, before losing the belts to Noah and Fuzz.

This is what I’m here to stop from happening again. Letting this protected cunt get her hands on these belts again, and drive them straight back into the gutters of apathy and obscurity. Charlie and I are on a different trajectory with the tag championships. Up the ladder we go… rain, hail, sleet, or snow. We’re gonna’ deliver the XWF a tag team scene worth watching for once at SnowJob… and we’re gonna’ do it by any means necessary.

After that verbal dissection, we cut to a shot of Thunder Knuckles and Dolly Waters sitting across from each other in an extremely spacious conference room. In front of Dolly rests the two XWF tag team belts. In front of TK is an open suitcase filled with more money than you've ever seen before, even in the movies!

”...”

There’s an awkward silence between the two, as TK stares at this little bastardly bitch in disbelief. Dolly taps the table impatiently, turning her fingertips redder than her face, before finally slamming her down her palm.

"WHAT GODDAMNIT?"

TK just smirks.

"So let me get this straight, your genius idea was to sell the god-damned tag belts just because Charlie's trying to become a good guy now? What fucking sense does that make, Dolly? Are you sure you want all this money for those two belts? Just some cash is all it will take to make Dolly flake….again?"

"I wasn’t going to flake! Charlie is refusing to wrestle because he has some bullshit therapy appointment. So the first 500 million was going to be used to pay for his actor stand-in during the TLC match…"

Dolly jerks her head over towards the wall where we see…

“Is that fucking Jason goddamn Mamoma?”

The famed Hollywood actor is leaned against the wall, sweating bullets as he unconvincingly recites a very basic line over and over again.

"I'm the uhm, I'm the dimeboy! No wait, I'm pennyman! Wait….LINE!"

Dolly shakes her head and sighs.

"Yeah, and he’s dumb as hell. Just like Charlie. "

TK rolls his eyes in disbelief.

"That beefcake can't stand in for Charlie! No one will ever believe he's become that buff and good looking! But even if you could get them to believe….that cat can't fight like Charlie. Trust me, that damn Nickleman won 5 goddamn championship belts last year, across 3 federations! He's the toughest son of a bitch I know, and fucking Jason god-damned Mamoa can't watch your back in a ladder match like Charlie. He ended Lacklans universal reign with a ladder match…and the bastard didn't even need to win to get the job done! Now that's real fucking power."

"He’s a pussy, TK! He won’t fight! He just wants to hug and kiss and make the innocent people of the world all feel better or some horseshit! I thought Graves was the one who got his balls sawed off, not Charlie too!"

TK sighs reluctantly.

"Yeah, we've been noticing the same shifts with The Nickleman…we at BOB think it might be time to take action."

Dolly raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"And just what does that mean?"

TK looks over to the stumbling, bumbling Aquaman actor leaning against the wall.

"I'll tell you…but it needs to be private. This information is extremely confidential, and it could be harmful to all of BOB if the wrong ears heard."

Dolly looks over to Jason Mamoa and gestures for him to leave the room. The actor quickly obliges. As the door slams shut TK dumps all the money out on the table, revealing that it's all completely fake and one-sided, much like Sarah Lacklan & Angie Vaughn's partnership. Dolly gasps at the reveal.

"But the money!"

"Dolly, even I know that money is way less valuable than….THIS."

TK opens up a secret compartment of the briefcase, revealing some extremely elaborate diagrams of a human body.

Charlie's body. The phrase 'Reverse Demosis' is scrawled across the top of the page.

TK passes the diagram over to Dolly, who tries her best to make out all of the scientific mumbo jumbo written in the margins of the page. Dolly tilts her head in confusion, prompting TK to explain.

"Charlie isn't just trying to flake on you, Dolly. He's also got the tag team belts in OCW to worry about, and Dolly, BOBs getting worried about him! He's losing his edge! And we need him on top of his game so BOB can remain dominant across all the major wrestling companies."

"But he's totally pussing out right now! It's like he's going through another one of those Demos personality shifts or something!"

TK grins.

"A Demos shift? Not likely, BOB hasn't pumped him full of Graves' sweat juice in years."

"Pump him full of Graves' juices? What are you talking about?"

Tk taps the phrase 'Reverse Demosis', the headline of the diagram, as he makes eye contact with Dolly. Then, he flips the diagram over, and it just reads 'Demosis'.

"Charlie was a thorn in BOBs side when he first came into this company. He was taking our gold, beating us in battle royales, and just dragging our name through the mud.

So we handled him, in the middle of one of his legendary TV title reigns, after his match on Snow Job against Barney. We snuck a BOB employee into Charlie's life, posing as his assistant. That undercover BOB agent was slowly poisoning Charlie for weeks, filling him full of a proprietary solution made almost entirely of Micheal Graves sweat!

Then, after he beat the dogpiss out of Barney at Snowjob, Bobby and I flew up to the ring and put Charlie's ass through the X-tron!

The electrical currents mixed with the Graves sweat coursing through his blood turned Charlie into exactly what we wanted him to be: a losing streak demon. Because he was fucking with BOB too much!"

Dolly's jaw drops, as this is the first time she's hearing any of this information about the origins of Demos. But it's not the first time this information has been told to YOU, our faithful- albeit slightly stupid, viewers.

"BOB turned Charlie into Demos to get even with him?! UsingGravy’s sweat and an electrocution at Snow Job?!?!"

TK slaps the table excitedly.

"You're damn right! The electricity and the sweaty formula are unpredictable, but we knew it would do something to his ass!

But now…we need to make him go the other way."

TK flips the diagram back over to the 'Reverse Demosis' page, before continuing,
"But Graves juices won't work this time. We used his/her/their/zer fluids last time because everything Graves puts his blood, sweat, and tears into fails! And BOB wanted to turn Charlie into a failure!

But this time, we don't want to put a losing streak demon in The Nickleman. We want to put a real demon in him!"

Dolly gaps covering her hand with her mouth….until she leans forward with excitement.

"Oswald came up with a plan to put a literal demon inside of Charlie?"

TK scoffs.

"God's not real Dolly, don't you know that? I was being metaphorical and shit! We're going to pump him full of the most scientific science shit our secret BOB scientists have ever scienced! They promised me this stuff would turn Charlie back into a fucking horror movie creature, and they wouldn't lie to me, because I told them I'd hit them with a Thunderstrike if they did!"

Dolly leans back in her chair, thinking this whole thing over.

"So if you never even wanted to buy my belts, why shouldn't I just sell them to the next bidder? And you can do whatever you want with Charlie."

"Because I'm offering you something priceless to keep them with us."

Dolly raises an eyebrow as the scene fades…

We cut to a shot of a metal door in a dark basement. That same, familiar door from so long ago….but you remember it, don't you?

He does.

Because it's all he's seen for a week. The camera cuts to the other side of the door and we see Charlie, just as we did last week, chained to a chair while wearing a vintage Jean-Paul Lacklan mask. A bunch of IVs drip down from the ceiling into the back of his mask, and now even a catheter has been added to the mix!

The man undergoing 'Reverse Demosis' groans in pain as he leans forward into the camera, his eyes filled with an unmistakable rage behind the mask.

His daughter's memory of my horror may have faded….but I will remind Sarah of her FEAR in living color tomorrow night!

Don't you remember, Sarah, you lying fucking bitch ? Don't you remember the MEMORIES WE SHARED?!?!

Don't you remember how I felt, how you felt, when you felt how SHE felt!


The Nickleman thrashed around erratically on the chair, his eyes furiously blinking.

Sarah's scream pierced the air, sweat pouring down her porcelain face! The liquid soaking through her green and yellow dress, she screams until her voice grows hoarse and fails, her throat burning with the effort.

The Nickleman stills in his chair as his head rolls back.

That smells like a whole lot of fear to this….

Charlie suddenly pulls forward.

THIEF!!!!!

I steal Lacklan's videos from the dark web, I steal Lacklan's mask from his grave, and tomorrow night….I WILL STEAL SARAH'S BREATH FROM HER LUNGS!

The Nickleman's chains shake violently as he rocks the chair back and forth.

I AM ALREADY LEGEND INCARNATE! XTREME EMBODIED! DEATH IN THE FLESH!

My record-setting championship reigns flooded the TV division with blood! Now, come Snow Job, that dam will open once more to grace the world with the blood of my enemies!

My enemies…who are already stumbling before me, still covered in the blood I spilled from battles past! I literally buried Graves last January! I beat Barney Green last LAST January - that dreadful day! And I crushed Angelica's dreams LAST WARFARE!

And now, they all march before me once more, claiming to be ready? Saying they can win? Thinking that somehow, this time will be different?

The Nickleman comes to another still in his chair before he slowly leans forward, into the camera.

And people say I'm crazy…..and maybe I used to be…but now?

I just……am. Or am I?

The Nickleman ponders the question curiously as more of that sweet fluid drips down from the IV into the back of his spine.

They can dismiss me, they can demean me, they can even ridicule and try to mock me…but mark my words…come Snow Job?

They will NOT withstand me!

The metal door swings open as a familiar pair of once white, but now filthy sneakers enters the room. Dolly lays her smiling glare onto Charlie, still mounted in his chair.

...hey shakespeare… she turns to Jason Momoa who’s followed her inside, wearing a Demos costume, This is yer’ line..

I love Karl Marx!

The camera zooms in on Dolly’s smile as we hear the chair breaking, and an animalistic roar coming from Charlie… followed by screams of horror from Momoa.

The filth on Dolly’s sneakers are now topped with blood.

How’s that fer’ some therapy Charlie?

Who's Charlie?

A sick tear of joy rolls down Dolly’s cheek as the scene fades.

Footnotes/bibliography 

https://xwf99.com/showthread.php?tid=38210 is the referenced Sarah Lacklan RP 'sarah screams....'