Each stroke of my brush is deliberate and calculated. Every droplet of ink has its place in the larger design which only becomes visible once the picture is painted. I apply each color carefully, ensuring that I only cross the lines that are needed. The finesse needed for such fine application of paint had eluded me for years, I was too busy applying that level of cerebral dedication to my in-ring craft; but while I was on my ‘LFL vacaciones’ I made sure to learn a new trick or two. I no longer needed an assistant to apply my facepaint, but that didn’t stop Tommy Wish and John Black from competing for the role!

“So Latina, do you need any help? Need someone to apply lotion on your back, or help you put on all that shiny body oil you like so much?”

“Hey now J-B, don’t call her ‘latina’! That’d be like I called your sister blackie! Her name is MACHINA!”

I put down my face brush as I turned away from the locker room mirror. I looked the two thugs up and down with disbelief.

"You two do know that my name is Robyn, right?”

JB’s face contorted as he looked around the otherwise empty locker room.

“Robyn? That’s not a very ‘latina’ name!”

“Her last name is Gonzalez, that’s plenty latina enough for me!”

I rolled my eyes before turning back to the mirror and applying the finishing touches to my facepaint.

“Ustedes dos idiotas should go find Reggie, I have to take care of Mr. Rogers pretty soon. I hope Dionysus is watching Anarchy tonight, because I’m going to send him a mensaje he won’t soon forget!”

"I’m surprised you can multitask so well while doing your makeup! My old steady gal would always throw a bitch fit, say that she needed all the time and privacy in the world to put the cake on her face. Jesus, like, I was just trying to get some cake on my face, you know?”

Tommy Wish snickers at JB’s crassness, but I sneer into the mirror with sheer annoyance.

“Men are disgusting. Tell your “old steady amora” to give my number a dial, sounds like I’ll treat her a lot better than you did.”

John Black takes a step back as he stares me up and down with discontent. As I look at his mirror image, I can tell he’s hurt by my words. Good.

“Hey now Machina, you know it’s all jokes! We’re just trying to have a good time, staying loose and shooting the breeze before the show starts. You know Gator wants us to open the show tonight? Apparently we’ve been the highest quarter-hour draw Anarchy’s had in months! It’s crazy what beating up an old hag on television can do for your career!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself- my surprise return was probably the biggest driver of ratings.”

“Chica, how could a SURPRISE return have drawn ratings? They wouldn’t have known to tune in!”

“But speaking of ratings, Miss Machina…on a scale of 1-10, how would you rate my hotness? Like with a ‘1’ being Mark Flynn levels of uggo, and a ‘10’ being as spicey as you!”

“Oooh shit…that was smooth…."

I shake my head as I tune out the thugs. I pack my paint and brushes into a small sequin-covered bag which I then place into a red, white, and green duffel bag. I throw the duffel bag into one of the wooden lockers before turning back to Tommy and John with my arms crossed.

"Mira aqui amigos, I know you like to have fun with your John and Tom-foolery, but I need to lock in and really focus for these next few weeks. I know my match against Roger tonight might seem like a ‘gimme’, but I have to go out there and make a statement- and I have to make it quickly, because I need to be fresh for my TV campeonato match on Warfare! I don’t have time for childishness and silly antics.”

That’s when John Black surprisingly pulls out a plastic rose from his coat pocket. He extends it towards me with a soft, tender smile on his face.

“What about time for a date with me?”

I wave the offer away immediately.

“Absolutely not.”

Tommy greedily snatches the fake flower out of John’s hands, offering it to me in his stead.

“What about with me?”

“ABSOLUTELY not!”

I snatch the flower out of Tommy’s hands.

“But you took the flower, so…”

“She took MY flower, bro!”

“I’m not de-flowering either of you! I don’t want this pedazo de basura!”

I throw the fake rose back at the two of them, where it lands on the ground in the space between their feet. Tommy turns towards John Black.

“Dude, what’s a pizza del bath aura?”

"I don’t know bro, but I don’t think it’s good!”

“Idiotas! Go find tu amigo Reggie and ask him to translate for you! I have a match, and apparently now a show opening segment to prepare for- oh and not to mention my huge Warfare match in just a week and a half!”

I throw my hands up in frustration with the hopelessly romantic thugs as I walk past them, stomping on the fake rose as I shoulder-checked each of them. Both John and Tommy move out of the way without a struggle, but John grabs me by the shoulder before I’m able to storm out of the locker room.

“Hey, seriously, jokes aside: we’re here for you, aight? We’re with ya in this fight, we just want to keep things light sometimes. You can’t always be walking around with steam coming oucha ears and shit. Save it for the ring…..especially because we all know of the heavy dark shit we’re about to get into…we should have fun while we can.”

Tommy stares off into the distance as he speaks in a quieted pitch.

"Relentless Inferno…fuck…it’s going to be a bloodbath, innit’?”

"That’s what the bastard keeps fucking saying, and you know, I don’t think he’s lying this time. What do you think, Robyn? You think the old man’s tugging our chains about how far he wants to go, or is he seriously demonic?”

I turn back around, looking between Tommy and John cautiously. I wasn’t sure what all that bastard had told these thugs and I wasn’t sure it was wise to ask at this point. Whatever mierda he had told them was working, so why risk rocking the boat before I had my escape pod ready?

“We have to do what we have to do.”

I nod confidently at the thugs, but I wasn’t prepared for their response.

“But fuck….human sacrifice? On a live pay-per-view?”

“What was it he said? ‘Fuck burning bridges, come Relentless we’re Burning overrated Bitches’?”

John Black and Tommy Wish look between each other with concern, but John Black swallows his conscience first.

“Well shit…we’ve already come this far, right? No point in turning back now.”

I squint at John Black, treading cautiously.

“How far did you have to ‘come’?”

John away from me as I saw an unfamiliar look in his eye: nervousness, possibly even regret.

“We all had to do our dirt, you know how it is with this ‘End’ shit….blood in, blood out, right?”

“Usually that has to do with shedding your own blood, though.”

“True, true…but everything seems to get all twisted up when you're working with the underbelly of the world.”

I bit my tongue as my gaze drifted between these two ruthless thugs. I don’t know what ‘dirt’ that bastard had gotten them into, but I’m just glad I wasn’t a part of it: yet. I knew if I stuck around that bastard long enough he would drag me into the mud alongside everyone else, and that’s why I was only going to stick with his ‘plans’ as long as they were to my advantage.

“Just uh…keep working, Johnny-o and Wish-o! It’s all going to pay off, just like you were told. Now if you boys will excuse me…”

I place my hands on their shoulders.

“I have to go stretch, because I have an entire show to carry tonight!”

The thugs throw their heads back in laughter like a pair of cackling hyenas. I walk out of the locker room with a smirk on my face, but still, deep concerns linger in the back of my mind. For now, I would continue walking the path that had been laid before me: even though I knew the path was likely littered with traps most foul!







We cut to a beautiful aerial shot of the Grand Canyon, likely captured on a drone. The camera soars above the majestic natural landscape, truly giving you a sense of scope to understand the sheer magnitude of this world wonder. Eventually the camera settles upon one ruby red ridge nestled inside of deep blue waters. At the top of the ridge we see a tiny figure, roaring mightily into the sky. As the camera zooms in we can tell that it is none other than the Latina Submission Machina standing atop the ridge in the Grand Canyon! The mighty luchadora smiles at the camera as it settles it’s centerframe on her.

“What belleza, what majestad, what preguntarse! A lucha libre show in the Grand Canyon, what a ‘grand’ opportunity to showcase what our sport is all about, at the highest level, in one of the siete wonders of the world!”

LSM inhales a deep breath as she briefly shuts her eyes. She fills her lungs with the hearty canyon air before slowly exhaling and looking back into the camera with an exceedingly sour expression etched across her face.

“And what does Señor Campeón choose to do? Ugh, it disgusts me to even think about it, let alone talk about it, and then- ugh- participating in it!”

The Latina Submission Machina shakes her head furiously as she waves her hand around dismissively.

“What a joke, what a complete clown show we have for our co-main event on Warfare. What a waste of a great space, a great opportunity, a great showcase…and instead of putting on a 5 star classic Señor Campeón wants us to play in the leftover garbage of tired gimmicks.”

The disgusted luchadora rolls her eyes in exaggerated annoyance with Dionysus’ chosen stipulation.

“I mean, en serio? A…let me get this derecho….a flooded wine cellar vineyard match inside a steel cage? Estúpido! Estúpido!

Why not make use of the Grand Canyon’s natural features and landscape? Why not make use of the Grand Canyon’s history, legacy, and notoriety? Why not go above and beyond to deliver an amazing stipulation that will allow us to put on an all-time classic match for the belt?

Dionysus has already failed in his duties as TV campeón, and he’s barely held the belt a week! Of course, what else did anyone expect?”

The woman cocked her half-painted face to the side while playfully tapping an inquisitive finger on her chin.

“Dionysus is a one-trick pony, and when that trick stops working this idiota just thinks he can clone it to get another trick! He couldn’t evolve or develop any shades to his cookie-cutter personality, so he just cloned himself a bunch of times in hopes one of them would do something interesting! He couldn’t come up with a clever match stipulation, so he just smashed together the last two TV matches he had and called it a day! He’s fought in 1 steel cage match for the belt, 1 wine cellar brawl for the belt, and gosh darn he’s already all out of ideas! He’s estúpido!”

LSM throws her hands up ragefully, clearly bothered by the garbage lucha she was being asked to participate in. Then, she turned her hands towards the camera and pointed a finger at the lens.

“But if Señor Campeón thought he was going to throw me off balance and get me to lose focus by forcing me into such AWFUL match gimmicks, he’s got another thing coming! I might be worked up now, but when I step into that ring I PROMISE I will be cool, calm, and collected- I’ll take a hike before our match, just so I can do something that actually makes sense in the Grand Canyon that day! And on my walk I’ll focus long and hard on stripping you of the TV campeonato, so that unoriginal garbage like this never has to air on Weekend Warfare again! Ay dios mio, what an embarrassment this match is to our sport. Ay dios mio, what an embarrassment this campeón is to the company!”

The luchadora shook her head with displeasure before crossing her arms over her chest.

“Lucha libre fans don’t want to see this kind of garbage on their screens. That’s why no one cared about your estúpido ‘Viewer’s Choice’ poll! Everyone can see through your charade clearly: you’re just a washed-out alcoholic looking for everyone’s approval to have drinks during your matches! Ay dios mio, what kind of campeón can’t even get through a match without dousing himself in alcohol? You don’t need to be the TV campeón, Dionysus, you just need to check into rehab: because maybe then you’ll stop seeing clones of yourself everywhere!”

LSM threw her head back with vicious mockery as her hand drifted down towards her exposed midriff. Her other hand wiped a cheery tear away from her eye before she looked back at the camera.

“Seriously, when was the last time there was just a proper match for the TV title? Does anyone do stuff like that anymore? Why does everything in this division need to be so gimmicked-up and ridiculous? From Angie Vaughn to Dionysus, this division has become a sick mockery of lucha libre. But I can promise you this: I’ll be having the last laugh on Warfare!”

The painted-up luchadora confidently pounds her fist into her chest as she addresses the drone camera. 

“I am going to bring glory and legacy back to the XWF’s TV division! All the TV campeones this year have tried to stand out by being different- but I’m going to stand out by being excelente!”

LSM shows off a cocky smile as she places her hands on her hips.

“It’s funny to me that Dionysus wants to play that ‘rookie vs vet’ card against me…a 20 year old who just started professional lucha two years ago! Dionysus began his career while I was still just a schoolgirl, and now, he’s been in the business half-a-decade and thinks he’s still a rookie because he only knows schoolboys and suplexes! Dionysus isn’t a ‘rookie’, he was just on the practice squad for years until he finally signed to the big leagues! I’m not some ‘age-addled vet’, I’m the fastest rising star in the history of Thursday Night Anarchy! I’m a young prospect who isn’t even close to her peak yet, but I can forgive Dionysus for his confusion, because everytime I defeat a name like ‘Caedus’, ‘Page’, and ‘Bourbon’ it sure does seem like I’m a certified Hall of Famer already!”

The luchadora laughs as she reminisces on some of the greatest wins of her career so far.

“And everyone who’s anyone seems to want to talk about my extended absence, from Dionysus to War Criminal and heck, even Roger got his licks in on those same talking points! It’s kind of like the blind leading the clones at this point, but I really think the problem is that these idiotas can’t see past each other’s noses!

It’s OBVIOUS why I HAD to take a break from the XWF, I can’t believe I even have to explain this to you nimrods! Vinnie Lane owns an LFL team in Mexico, and he NEEDED ME to come down and play Quarterback. He needed me to put his new football team on my back like I had been putting Thursday Night Anarchy on my back, and guess what? I DELIVERED. But Vinnie Lane required me to take a leave of absence from lucha, because he didn’t want to risk his star player getting injured and put on the shelf during the middle of a playoff run. 

I love lucha libre, so I did what I had to do in order to secure my spot in this company. If the big boss himself approached you and told you he needed you to take a leave of absence to help him, how could you say no? During my leave of absence from lucha libre I was competing on the gridiron, showing off my elite skills and athleticism to an entirely new audience.

An entirely new audience that is now invested in my lucha career, an entirely new audience that Vinnie and I worked hard to cultivate and bring back to the XWF, to help us grow even bigger! I know you’re just a ‘rookie’, Dionysus, so maybe you can’t see the big picture quite as clearly as I can, but if you could see the full picture right now, you’d probably be embarassed by how DUMB you look for bringing up my ‘LFL vacaciones’!”

LSM shook her head at the camera, clearly in disbelief of Dionysus’ lines of attack.

“But really Señor Campeón, you don’t need my help to make yourself look bad. You do it with your own words! You’re an inconsistent, wishy-washer who will say whatever he thinks the people want to hear. First you said that the TV title would mean NOTHING if you couldn’t defend it, and now you’re saying you have ‘no shame’ in being made a paper campeón. The truth is, Dionysus- you don’t stand for anything, so you’ll say anything so long as it’s convenient.

And that’s the fundamental difference between you and I. You’re a cheap imposter who doesn’t stand for anything: but everyone in the X-W-F knows exactly what EL-ES-EM stands for!”

The luchadora stares viciously into the camera as we fade to black.