My Button!
You CAN hotlink.
-
Protected: Living Reflections: Winter 2024-5
Posted in Logs, Writing
Tagged Members Only, Personal, Reflections, Winter 2024-5
Enter your password to view comments.
Podcast Pilot: A Better Web-Private Policy, Terms of Service and Arbitration
Listen Here
This was a project for one of my undergraduate courses, which asked for us to produce a podcast about a topic of our choosing from beginning to end. Initially, this was my chance to use my existing audio production skills, and improve on my individual production mechanics. I wanted to cover a technology policy issue I thought was deeply relevant in modern social discourse, and I wanted to promote digital tools, hearkening back to my independent work with collecting links and resources for myself and my peers. Both of these tools were ones I was extremely familiar with when I went into production.
I was deeply inspired by podcasts of older origin with design and approach, but I was inspired by both my traditional broadcast radio work and podcasts like Tech Will Not Save Us, and If Books Could Kill.
I wanted to present a informational but still personable approach to a complex topic that required multiple areas of understanding to communicate. By pointing to tools to further explore privacy focused information, I allow my audience to do their own exploration, along with my link library, my sources that guided my research and commentary are clear.
Had I done anything differently, I would give my scripting and presentation a bit of a more relaxed feel. Since my background is in broadcast news, I found my reading a little intense at times because I was fighting the tinny sound of AM radio. For my aesthetic choices, I would also make my music stingers softer, as I created them myself using Freesound loops and clips, I could have done a better job, but sound mixing for music isn’t my specificity, and I do have a love for noise music. I thought my design for the podcast cover was quite cute! Though I thing the contrast is a bit of a nightmare, and I would like fix that accessibility issue.
Project Link Library
Text Script
If you’re spending your entire life with something, shouldn’t it make you happy? Shouldn’t it make your life better?
Out of everything we interact with in our day to day, the digital demand on our consciousness is higher than ever. At home, at work, in the car, at the store. Your digital identity is vast and in demand, your data is a gold mine, not for you, but for companies across industries that hope to make money off of you, or make money advertising to you.
More and more, to interact with the internet, or even basic services, you are asked to digitally sign away your rights and protections with little to no knowledge of what that means until it’s too late.
Shouldn’t we have control of our lives and identities on the web?
Welcome, to A Better Web.
I’m Avery Martinez, I’m an Senior undergraduate, with focus on professional and technical writing, journalism and digital production. In A Better Web, I intend to explore the collapsing state of current web environments and the harm an unregulated commercial web has caused over the last decade. ‘m also here to talk about alternatives to the standard systems, tools and protocols that you can use in your digital life. While my area of work and study is heavily involved in the technical, my goal is to give you practical information you can use when interacting with the internet. If you’re asking what’s the problem with the modern internet,
I think it’s important to evaluate just how intertwined the internet and digital policy is in your daily life.
Lets say, start your day, run through the steps. Count in your head how many times you interact with a device that communicates or relies on the internet. You likely interact with personal devices, your computer and phone. You surely have to pay for things, using a debit or credit card. You’re asked at work to sign up for an app or give out your number so communication for your shifts can happen. You open Instagram, and the ads are a little *too* personalized. For every willful occurrence of digital access, your video watching, your app use, giving your email to something you signed up for, there is a world of secondary digital interactions you have little to no control or say over, exchanges of data, abandoning your rights, and being monitored for capitalistic and surveillance gains.
This isn’t hyperbole, in the last decade, hundreds of examples American citizens have faced prosecution and dealt with suffering at the hands of public and private data policies alike. Most recently, service terms in applications such as food delivery and streaming have stripped users of their legal rights to sue entire companies for negligence and death, in the case of a man who’s wife died in the Disney parks due to allergies who signed his rights away by signing up for a free Disney + trial, or uber passengers in a car accident who signed their rights away after getting a Uber Eats order. In the same vein, the government has utilized electronic data and surveillance to identify activists, to monitor marginalized groups, and most recently, prosecute and restrict healthcare choices. In the last four years alone, we’ve seen activists during the Black Lives Matter movement tracked through purchases on Etsy, a shop platform which willingly reports to the US. State governments cross the US, including Utah, Texas and Florida have launched “tip” lines to collect the personal information and actions of transgender adults and children.
Similar tip lines and surveillance systems were created in response to the dismissal of Roe v Wade, in which states with abortion restrictions attempt to track, punish and prosecute any women seeking an abortion or women who experience pregnancy complications via monitoring systems like search history and communications, and popular period tracking applications.
What does this mean in a society where using the internet is less of a choice, and more of a requirement?
First of all, a person needs to understand just how terms of service are laid out across private companies. Terms of Service agreements are present across digital services, used to be a bridge between service designers and audiences to communicate legal or disclaimer info. In the case of the Uber and Disney Plus cases highlighted earlier, their terms hold a common contract law precedent, arbitration, with the federal act dictating that the contract provisions “shall be valid, irrevocable, and enforceable, save upon such grounds as exist at law or in equity for the revocation of any contract.”
The moment you click “Agree.” in the eyes of the law, you are agreeing to not just attribution, but to numerous policies. To researchers and yourself alike, the real biggest lie on the internet is that you understand them. Instead of lying to yourself, and blindly agreeing to terms, there are other options. While one of the foundational rules of defensive computing can be to not engage with piece of digital software before you fully understand it, sometimes the expectation to engage is out of your control. What you can do instead is educate yourself, first on what terms of service policies can look like based on your concerns, then specifically for the services you’re considering.
Reject Convenience: Privacy Visualizer is a simple and newer tool to the scene provides a simple interface, an option to read about why it was created, and several buttons with different types of data captured in terms of service, clicking on one, you get a definition based explainer of what is being captured, the benefits and downsides to the capture of this data, and terms typically used to find that data.
With this tool, you get a broader scope of exactly what information digital services want from you. Consider clicking “Health, Sensitive Info, and Identity” to see how these means of data collection dig into your personal life, and ask yourself how many companies you’d signed off on to analyze and store this data. Once you understand what forms of data are up for grab, the robust Terms of Service Didn’t Read services are your one stop shop to lay out the policies, the amount of data they want, and how invasive or harmful these policies are to you as the user.
A visit to the site provides a long look at every app or site you could think of. Facebook glows a bright red with an even redder E grade, one of the worst reviews you could get, it details everything from evasiveness with advertising, the consumption of your data without even having a Facebook account, and deleted content Meta, Facebook’s parent company, never truly deletes. This is one of the thousands of evaluations on Didn’t Read, and you can easily search them to read about anything you sign up for. If you’re concerned about not remembering to check, they offer extensions for nearly every updated major browser, which shows a popup detailing the terms for you the second you visit a new site.
An exercise that may shock you is to search every app you have on your phone against Didn’t Read’s database, to understand just how many rights you’ve given up. By giving yourself the means to intake digital literacy for these documents, you’re already putting yourself ahead of the curve a large part of the digital user economy. The great thing about Terms of Service Didn’t Read in particular is it can highlight equitable and privacy considerate services in nearly every industry you can think of, making switches can protect you and make your experiences online easier.
Divorcing myself of services provided by Meta, for example, lessened the sheer volume of invasive personalized ads. For some, this can mean just one less annoyance, but for others it can mean life and death. In the case of data harvesting, pregnant people have become one of the richest sources of data both for companies hoping to advertise to them, and to regulators and private actors attempting to monitor whether someone has miscarried, or had an abortion. Despite legal arguments that this surveillance breaks constitutional rights against search and seizure, the courts aren’t exactly settled on this either.
The legality for data harvesting and ongoing contract terms in digital services is wrought with disagreement and conflict. On Uber’s use of arbitration, the first and second circuit courts weighed the legitimacy of these terms in two separate cases. Much of what gets debated is not the clauses in the terms themselves, but the way they are presented in a user interface context. The cases from the courts out of Massachusetts and California Respectively evaluated the screens plaintiffs say when inputting card info, displaying the terms of service.
The courts assume within their analysis that they are acting as an average user, determining what mechanisms Uber uses to show that the Terms of Service and if they are clear. In the California case, Uber’s design had a blue hyperlink which meant is was clear, while in the Massachusetts case the link was not in hypertext, or prominent enough to be acceptable. What you’re probably realizing at this point is that Uber has the power to change the presentation and access of their terms at will, while the policies that harm people stay the same.
While as it stands, there is no concrete way to protect yourself with existing terms of service you may be attached to, you do have legal protections in relation to data privacy laws that can invalidate agreed to policies if they fall out of line. Though the market has made terms of service policies exist everywhere online, encouraging both individual and communal agency in the decision making surrounding signing up for something can and will protect people.
Making the switch to privacy focused tools by evaluating your options on sites like Terms of Service didn’t read can mean the difference when your data and privacy is on the line. Talking about these issues and giving easy, accessible solutions is only the start of a broad list of choices you and those around you can present in personal and professional contexts so the risk of agreeing to the hyped software of the week can be clear. By refusing predatory services, educating yourself on the data you hold within your digital identity, and how to keep your identity safe, you are securing a future on the internet without the invasion of privacy and legal pressure you are unwillingly put under every time you go online. You are taking the first step in a long line of digital infrastructure adaptions and changes to day to day practices. By putting the time in considering just what you’re signing up for, you are making educated choices and reasoning with what you are truly comfortable doing with your data.
You are taking your first steps into a Better Web.
For more information about the research for this piece, links to the discussed tools, and links to all secondary sounds used in the production of this podcast, visit the attached script and citation page. A Better Web was produced by Avery Martinez for “Digital Storytelling and Culture” at the University of Arizona under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International Public License, for more information on Avery’s work, visit dyingsignals.love
Review: Women’s Extreme Wrestling Ring of Fire 01.28.2025
What do you begin to say about Women’s Extreme Wrestling?
With any fan familiar with the American independent scene and women’s wrestling, you’re well aware of the inherent sexualization women’s wrestlers face in the industry. For decades, the main appeal of a wrestling show having women was not for their ability in the slightest. While I consider the 80s and 90s to hold a special place in the history of women’s wrestling as a sport, the clear regression as certain personalities got to book the shows, and the role women played on television slotted right back into a sexually gratifying role for the men both at the companies and the men watching.
It’s unsurprising then, that wrestling and erotica go hand in hand, whether you’re looking for actual pornographic content, or the slew of suggestive material produced by mainstream wrestling (remember how they hyped up Sunny’s sex tape on Shotgun Saturday Night?) it isn’t hard to imagine why promotions would lean into this cultural connection. When I say Women’s Extreme Wrestling, I am of course obscuring the dual nature of this show, given that it’s origin was in the erotic as well.
Women’s Erotic Wrestling, as it was sometimes known, was born out of the deaths of WCW and ECW, a mark on the early American indie scene in the 2000s, as a producer of semi-erotic, almost all women’s wrestling. One look at the names of these shows make it clear, hell, even on my DVD copy, the actual disk has a secret name: Nude Ring Fantasy.
So, naturally, as an enjoyer of the erotic, the weird, and all things women’s wrestling this has always been a promotion that has interested me. Of course, I was explaining this promotion and their “deal” to my lesbian friends when I would stumble upon Ring of Fire in the minuscule wrestling section of my used book store. Bought among a pile of cheap, old lesbian novels, this was probably the thing I was most excited to see.
The DVD case was all in tact, and contained everything I needed included the advertised Mini Poster. I deeply appreicate how…2000s this all feels. There’s stylistic choices with the design on the insert and cover you just don’t see anymore, for both good and bad.
The tape is fronted and backed by nu metal of the decade, featuring a split of actual wrestling from past shows, and detailed shots of one woman getting her ref corset air brushed on to her body. The show opens with her dancing in fact along with other dancers. The motion graphics are dated but stupidly cute, with the Spencer’s font and pink and white abstract patterns.
An odd thing out was uh. A clip show from commissioner Bill Alfonso, showing off his uh…fish. This was a small segment of a woman on the beach dancing in a boat. She’s wearing this teal one piece dress, and she’s slowly but surely hiking it up to show off her ass and ghostly approximations of crotch with absence of bush. This goes on for about a minute uninterrupted.
Onto the matches itself, it’s important to note that one match did not seem to be on the DVD, despite being advertised. This was Simply Luscious vs Roxxy Cotton w/ Becky Bayless, so that match will not factor into my review.
In addition to the error on the disk, one notable downside that marred the entire experience was the commentary. The desk was headed by Eric Garguilo, known for his work in CZW, and the Queen of Extreme herself Francine.
Eric was…fine, nothing to ride home about, but not awful either. Francine on the other hand…look, I don’t typically enjoy disparaging women, but she was just disgusting to listen to. Essentially every match, you can expect some form of misogynistic insult thrown at the women in the ring. Whenever Francine could, she would bury the women in front of her, or talk about herself instead. I’ll get into the more serious flaws and moments of bigotry in the match reviews, but essentially every match suffered as a result of her commentary work, and shockingly, a one man booth with Eric after she left to manage in the main event was a breath of fresh air.
A major positive note for this show was the promos and mic work! Nearly everyone besides Francine, and other minor exceptions who were given mic time killed it on the mic. Especially when I look at the promo work for Black Barbie, Butch and Jazz, there’s clear direction and intention, no fucking around, just a declaration that they are going to fight and fight hard. Butch’s promo work leaned into the Canadian excellence trope perfectly, it was almost heartwarming how familiar it was, to be put into the context of a very butch wrestler.
Match Reviews
“Catfight Hotties”
Talia w/ Noel Harlow vs Christi Ricci
Harlow comes out first, the “Queen of the Cat Fight” with a mic, she’s dressed in a nightgown, cat ears and wrestling boots, which is a fit I love but sadly could not pass in modern wrestling because people would be freaks. Talia, is here now, and I’m a big fan of her neon pink accents. Talia was the tag champ! Until she forfeited, and Noel declares she killed TNA. This is Talia’s big singles push, with this match against Christi Ricci. Christi’s gear is INCREDIBLY cute. It’s full coverage on the chest and butt, but her singlet had a large back cut and a little circle on the stomach. Francine buries their looks and shames Eric for any semblance of putting them over.
The match here is filled with body slams, roll ups, and school girls. Christi clearly has the wrestling edge, the match does collapse quite quickly with a ref bump and a failed chair shot from Harlow. Christi tries to use the chair, but Talia drop kicks the chair, gets it out of the ring, and pins Christi for the win. Francine immediately buries her choice to get it out of the ring, so the win deflates in an instant.
RATING: 2/5
We get some words of wisdom from Butch! She’s very Canadian, draped in a flag, and her long blonde hair and sunglasses really help with the sleeveless tracksuit look. She’s all in on her training, and excellence, in fact, having to wrestle a “nurse and some hoes” just really pisses her off. She’s Canadian. She buries America. Have I mentioned she’s Canadian?
In her entrance, Francine manages to both call her a she-he, and call her a dyke, so we’re two for two on homophobia and transphobia and we haven’t even seen her wrestle.
Unrelated, but when I was doing research, another name Butch went by in the WEW was Klondyke.
“Street Fight Falls Count Anywhere”
Butch vs “Booty Banging” Nurse T w/ Principle Lazarus (Pussy Willow?)
Butch comes out draped in her Canadian Flag, wearing a white sports bra, white boots and knee pads, with blue shorts. The whole deal with the outward reflection on her is that she’s scary because she is big and she trains. Francine and Eric also fixate on whether she is wearing a cup of stuffing for most of her entrance, but she looks fantastic here, strong, flexing on the turnbuckle, screaming at a crowd she knows will demean her, there’s not an ounce of hesitation on her. She gets to cut another promo here, and the crowd is shockingly electric for her. She knows they wanna see hot women. Butch has the honor of dropping the second slur of the show, calling a guy in the front row the f slur. She tells the audience no, you aren’t gonna see girls, because she is a female wrestler, and she wants T&A to END. This is a woman placed in an erotic promotion as the “perfect” heel to deconstruct the fetishistic tendencies of men watching, though I don’t really think WEW intended to master a commentary on misogyny and anti-femininity in 2007 given how nasty and sex shaming she has to go to get her point across.
Nurse T comes out holding Principle Lazarus’s hand, who is Pussy Willow. This is not explained to us, but at least their outfits are cute. Butch buries both women, pointing to everything from their clothes to their body as to why they aren’t real wrestlers. Butch is a female wrestler, don’t forget. The women from earlier with the spray painted ref outfit is TnT Tonya, and how we’re watching a handicap match. This does not matter to Butch of course, immediately she’s kicking ass, throwing Nurse T out of the ring, There’s a fucked up spot that I love here where they go into the crowd, and she shows off to the guys while Nurse T lays on the floor and in their laps in front of them.
The crowd is INTO this, screaming at Butch, and Butch gives it right back to them at every turn. Nurse T is just a ragdoll here. Francine does try her…best to put Butch over while Nurse T gets thrown into the trash. The only bit of solace is with Pussy Willow coming in, and giving Butch a cock shot with the bell. Nurse T gets the first attempt at a pin here! But well, Butch fucking kills her with one of the most disgusting body slams I’ve seen in a minute. TnT Tonya tries to save her, and Butch pins them both.
RATING: 3.75/5
Butch gets a third promo! She puts over Canada and Canadian wrestlers, and shames the crowd, then music hits. It’s Pryme Tyme Amy Lee, the hardcore champ. They immediately mention that she’s being more feminine on commentary, but Amy’s past alignment with getting rid of the “hoes” in fresh on commentary’s mind. Butch is excited to see her, but Amy isn’t. To quote “Don’t compare you, to the Triple Double Ds.”
They have a little exchange, and Amy socks Butch, Francine points out how Amy LIKED eliminating the hoes in the promotion, and the refs are keeping them apart. (Atlas Security, which are a known entity in wrestling.) Amy calls Butch a guy in drag, and calls herself the madam of the brothel that is WEW. It’s one thing for Amy to beat up the hoes, but for someone like Butch to stake claim is something she can’t stand for. These hoes are Amy’s hoes and she challenges Butch to an American hardcore match at the next show and ends with an Ey? Amy goes hardcore nationalism here, with a USA chant.
ANALYSIS NOTE: It's pretty nice here to see how many women with big chests are active and wrestling, but it's obvious how bad the plus sized bra market was because almost everyone either isn't wearing a bra or they're dealing with spillage out of their tops.
There’s a small section with the commissioner and the other half of T&A, it’s weird, he references Sabu and RVD over her trying to forfeit the tag title, with him saying he’s stripping her of it instead. This is weird and so so Hogan TNA core.
BB, Black Barbie is cutting a promo on April Hunter, dismissing her tag work and being excited to welcome her into the singles world.
“Battle of the Giant Divas”
April Hunter vs Black Barbie
The official gets an intro, her name is Isis! She’s cool. April Hunter is the head hunter, and she looks fucking fantastic with her teal and leopard print gear. She also has the classic red copper hair of the era. Black Barbie comes out next, and Francine and Eric immediately bury how skinny she is. They joke about finding her as a go-go dancer.
Immediately you can feel some chemistry here, April is talking shit, and BB engages her, the back and forth grapple work looks really fucking good here, but the weight and athletic strength issue is here throughout. Black Barbie does a great job at dispelling this despite commentary though because the sequence she does with a monkey flip and razzle dazzle looks super clean. She kicks her in the head, she drops into the split, and tries for the pin.
This turns into a tit for tat punch patch but no matter what April does, Barbie feels a step ahead. After April misses the flip, Barbie gets a snap surprise pin, and after Isis is doing everything she can (not much) to stop them from fighting.
Rating: 3/5
We cut to Jazz! She knows Sumie is considered great, but she is even better, Jazz calls out that his is her house in Philly, but I truly cannot do this promo justice in text.
Annie Social is Sumie’s talker, putting her over and showing that she’s been carrying while Jazz has been away, after a declaration from Sumie herself that she’s gonna kick Jazz’s ass, they walk off.
“Old School Kick Ass Wrestling Match”
Jazz vs Sumie Sakai w/ Annie Social
Jazz’s ring gear is indescribably beautiful, she’s truly the woman with the most aura out of everyone I’ve seen for. She’s vibing, she’s strutting out, and the crowd is excited for her. Francine goes the respect route with putting her over, but they do not like each other socially at all. Also Jazz sings some of the vocals on her theme! Sumie is wearing a red and monochrome camo shirt, and denim short shorts that make my butch heart soar. Eric points out that Annie is a bit of a bad influence, and Annie isolates Sumie a bit, I don’t know too much about the context here, and neither does anyone on commentary.
THEY TALK ABOUT THE GOLDFISH TAKE OF DEATH MATCH. Too much in fact, because this match kicks in with a fast leg sweep from Jazz into immediate mat and speed action from them both and Francine can not shut up about this match, and her own matches, with Eric egging her on. Jazz’s size against Sumie is the biggest crush on Sumie here, she’s working pained, and Jazz works with quick covers and submissions on the mat to diminish her even more. Sumie uses the 619, then locks her into a submission with a pull on the hair. She’s basically riding Jazz’s back until Jazz can stand and slam her into the turnbuckle.
The Jazz stinger is a fantastic move, and Francine puts over the fact that the WEW belt is one of the most meaningful things to Jazz. Francine also puts over that the last time they all hung out Sumie got drunk on cheap 40oz beers so she’s immediately even more over to me. The rope work is really fantastic in this match, with all available time focusing on the oxygen cut off tactics by pressing and pinning each other against the cables.
The surprise of how one sided this is definitely there, pointing at jet lag. Annie Social is pretty useless here. But Sumie gets a bit of return with several attempts for roll ups, and a kiss roll up according to commentary. Sumie kicks into gear even more, Jazz and Sumie both take make misses, but Jazz locks in the STF, with Sumie desperately tapping even after the bell rings.
Rating 4.25/5
Francine is here with Amber O’Neill in a backstage segment, for some reason, Francine is playing with a banana. Amber is being vapid and unfocused, Francine can’t get a word in as her manager, and Amber scampers off while Francine is annoyed.
While Angel Orsini is in fact Italian, this was one of the most obvious Italian gimmicks to appeal to the cultural touchstones of Italian-American culture in 2007. My Italian partner, who I watched this with, lost their mind over it. Angel is a confident champ, and buies Angel and Francine alike. She’s the champ, and she’ll be the best.
“WEW World Title Match”
F.B.I (Full Breasted Italian) Angel Orsini vs Amber O’Neill w/Francine
Eric is alone on commentary, and Francine is out here with Amber. I don’t know how to describe Francine’s gear situation, it’s a dress thong situation with black silk and crystals. Amber’s gear is pretty normal. Miss Full Breasted Italian is uh. She’s wearing a green shirt hat says ‘Italian” in the impact font, an FBI hat, and camo shorts. The audience is excited to see her and a lot of people high five and cheer her on. Francine is the only one who gets cheered at the start, but this crowd is locked in. After a pretty quick exchange, Angel rips Amber’s wig off of her head, revealing less blonde hair. Angel runs around the ring upset, and Amber is tries to fight, this doesn’t really matter though because despite Francine’s support Amber gets distracted by her wig again. Angel takes a KILLER guard rail spot in this match, and Amber ois such an over-confident hardcore hitter. Angel is really struggling here, and after rope break from Amber Francine bounces her ass against Angel to choke her on the rope. Even in Angel’s offensive showcases at the start, she’s struggling.
Angel’s chop game is impeccable, and the favor moves to her. Eric is doing the thing where he takes a move that references a men’s title and just changes it to be a woman; school girl, hangwoman, etc. Francine is ripping into Amber because she just keeps playing to the crowd and wont go for the pin, this fucks her over of course, because Angel gets a surprise pin and the win before Francine can get into the ring to interfere.
Rating: 3.75/5
Angel goes through the crowd and celebrates with them, meanwhile Francine is in the right stalking down Amber in anger, she throws the wig at her, and everyone from Eric to the crowd is expecting a turn. Amber is clearly a bit scared of Francine, and she calls her closer. The crowd wants Francine to fuck her up so fucking bad, and she tries it, but Francine just hugs her close instead.
We close with another music video, this tine getrting the song and artist, which is Silent Protest by Trigger Point. It really suits the clips from the show, but there’s nothing new here.
Final Review
It’s frustrating when the wrestling is good & a show is bad, but even in in the process of finishing this write off I went through & lowered all of my ratings. This is a show filled with talented wrestlers working a promotion that could care less about their skill level, & the demeaning nature of commentary & the general misogynistic & generally bigoted fog is difficult to surpass at times. Each of these matches deserved at least 3-6 more minutes each, for a little over 1 hour on the tape, the actual amount of wrestling suffered.
Despite these issues, this was a fun show to watch! I think getting a grip on just what women’s wrestling was can really show what pro wrestling can become if it’s done right. The talent & passion was there, it really just feels like the wrong place at the wrong time. Many of the matches felt like they were kicking into gear just as they ended.
If anything, I think watching this episode of WEW really showed me I have far more to dig into with the American indies, I barely know much about the careers of the larger WEW roster, & from what I’ve researched already digging into their careers gives a treasure of matches & performances…just not in WEW.
Final Show Rating: 3/5
You should give this show a try if you’re a student of the American Indie game & women’s wrestling, & unfortunately for myself & all of my friends, we have a whole other tape to watch now!
When I posted about watching this show, a friend through wrestling Bluesky, Brittney, sent me WEW Street Fight! So you best expect a review coming…soon.
Thanks for reading!
Snuffed Out – AEW WrestleDream Bryan Danielson vs Jon Moxley
This article contains spoilers and results for the end of the AEW WrestleDream 2024 pay per view, along with discussion of simulated violence, real injury, and references material from AEW produced television and secondary programming, outside press interviews, and direct statements from wrestlers involved.
I love a story with a definitive.
I’ve never enjoyed episodic, continuity abandoning productions that span endlessly. A lot of sitcoms and animation fall into this trap, and the appeal of the unending, or the forever, is fresh in the cultural zeitgeist of an ever expanding, ever growing world.
There is one this we as humans will all experience.
The end.
I don’t think death is our only end though, whether one approaches life this way willingly or by force, we are tasked with recognizing when we will end things, when we must stop, when the course must change.
For Bryan Danielson, in Tacoma Washington Saturday night, he chose an end.
Whether you’ve been following Bryan from the beginning of his career on the independents, to his rise in the mainstream or his twilight return under AEW’s infancy, you learned early on just how much love the world of wrestling has for him, and how much he loves it back. His power to capture audiences bested the powers that be at his last employer, and his command of the crowd and people among him was threaded into everything, from the back stage to ring.
Many, many wrestlers have gone on record in various positions to sing their praise for the man. In AEW’s official publications, like their podcast series, the volume of younger wrestlers who cite Bryan as an inspiration is almost cute–when it came time for some of these wrestlers to face Bryan, this respect was palatable, his work with Daniel Garcia, Lee Moriarty, Wheeler Yuta, and others held a decent amount of run time throughout his career. Wrestlers he hasn’t gotten in the ring with on television say just as much, Jade Cargill, now with WWE, discussed wrestling, practicing and studying with Danielson and mentor William Regal in the early hours before the show, just as the ring was built and set.
Certainly wrestlers sung their praises of Danielson outside of AEW proper as well, in the latest press tour for the last several pay per views where Bryan held the belt, Orange Cassidy offered one of the most common refrains people offer in appreciation of the man, “It’s Bryan Danielson!“
By no means has AEW been light on the framing surrounding Bryan’s twilight before and after winning the AEW world title. Using Green Day’s acoustic closing with a flash through of his career, using the Ring of Honor brand to resurface work from Bryan’s independent heyday, tasking his coworkers both young and old to talk about him in the lead up to his match with Swerve.
Renee Paquette has been essential to this front, unsurprisingly. One of the most respected and skilled presenters AEW has, her intertwined inquiry and personal connection allowed for a lot to be constructed with very little, especially in the boil over to the events in Tacoma.
Which, we need to discuss now.
As someone who was invested in both Bryan and Moxley upon their entrance in AEW (and as someone who despised their work together in WWE) the onset of the Blackpool Combat Club set my heart on fire. In reading Moxley’s audio book earlier this year, his philosophical approach to wrestling, at least in my mind, feels akin to the structure of long epics with a commitment to acting on instinct. Bryan brought in patience, he’s a tactician and emotional provocateur all at once. Their dedication to real martial arts and storytelling alike has always been meant to meld, they made it clear that as much as they differ, they came together because they clicked.
What happened at All Out was meant to be from the beginning.
There’s a lot to point fingers at, injuries and plans surely play a role in everything this group has gone through together, even now, but that unescapable reality was something no one in wrestling can account for, at least right away. Early in the sense of conflict, one could easily point the finger at Bryan, going off on dream match after dream match, setting his sights on things alone; the group made it clear that they were wolves, they hunted and could fight their own battles, and singles gold put the group at the top endlessly. The BCC was formed with the belief they could change wrestling, disrupt the future to sculpt such a young, sprouting roster into the future.
The worst part is, they didn’t fail.
I’ll take you now to the match.
Bryan and Moxley have gone after each other time and time again. What has felt heavy in these battles is how fluid it feels, how the violence and movement feels comfortable even with the level of violence and stakes brought to the table.
Moxley has been focusing on a lot in his return. In promos, he addresses the stagnancy. His co-conspariters call out to what to them is the obvious, that diplomacy has failed, that the way to the future is violence. The BCC hasn’t just terrorized Bryan of course, his crew ripped through others with violence, Private Party being one of them.
While this story isn’t about them, in an interview, again with Renee, Moxley’s terror amongst the locker room hasn’t escaped them, they call it out directly, Isiah’s busted hand is proof. He calls on Renee directly that’s her man doing this, terrorizing them, causing harm like that. In that same interview, she asked the tag team if they think Moxley digging into them, attacking their static status and their failures, may be right.
They agree.
In the pre-show, Renee expresses her conflict, how close she is to Bryan’s wife, how many fond moments her, Bryan and Moxley have had. She doesn’t talk about Moxley much, other than this shared fear that tonight something bad will happen.
In an interview with her husband some time ago, the two of them talk about their basement, a gym Mox is building out for the BCC to train in. The two of them seem excited for this future, paired up with people they love.
Bryan and Moxley are mirrors in a way, they intact the same violence because they planned the same violence, the mutualism between their move sets are bound in just as much blood as they are training hours. Their flourishes to the crowd command them forward. They know exactly how to inflict pain to each other’s bodies.
What stands out with this feud, despite the serendipity is how clinical it all feels, almost impersonal with the way Moxley collectivizes his actions. Bringing in Marina, Pac and Claudio not only works for him on the level of connection, but in mutual frustration. Both Claudio and Pac had faced Bryan at moments they could have won gold, and his command over the crowd and his patience in all of what comes right to him leaves a searing in their guts that was clearer even before Moxley’s intentions were clearly known. Moxley allows these three to intact violence and disruption, Marina especially is entrusted in this role during the match and using her to play dirty keeps everyone off their game, largely because they are used to Moxley enacting violence of his own accord. Moxley refuses to relent, he presses on the gas though at the same time he makes it clear this is bigger than him or Bryan or the belt itself, and what is compelling this is much, much bigger.
Moxley is a man concerned with future.
Bryan, and us, lived in every moment he had.
When it comes down to the match itself, there shouldn’t have been a question that Danielson was on a time limit. He was clear with the audience again and again that he would need neck surgery soon. He won the belt. He was our champion, and no one wanted this to end.
Moxley was the stronger man, the man who could withhold more ache.
The future was not a celebration, it was not grandiose.
Jon Moxley welcomed us to the future with silence, and gasping for air, with the slumped body of our hero, with his gold shoved into an undescriptive bag. In an instant, the title went away, wrestling went away, and he dug for something deeper.
Something has to change.
What happens in the ring next irrupts into horror, into sobbing, into violence. Brutalization is the goal, not resolution. With every stomp and slam you are left to watch Bryan suffer. If the cloud of retirement dominated the build, Bryan’s survival dominated the fall. Even out of desperation you watch one of the last people who stood by Bryan try, until he’s captured by the grief of it all.
Until it’s clear that Moxley’s words have. dug. deeper.
The slam of the bag on Yuta’s chest, the moment you realize what’s coming.
Of what haunts me most, before Excalibur on commentary cracks into tears, is Wheeler Yuta, the man they chose for the future screaming at Bryan to stop moving as he suffocates him.
An ending, if there can ever be a true end.
Through everything assembled and enacted in Washington last night, what haunts everyone from the faces of those who ran out to protect him, to the cagey haunted demeanor of everyone in the company, to the sense of surreal emptiness I felt when it ended, what’s clear to me is despite the intricacies and faults of the medium, Bryan Danielson and Jon Moxley set out to construct a home in AEW with doors they opened, and now Bryan has closed.
I am desperate for the next open door.
If this is an ending, I am desperate to know what the future looks like with Bryan’s light being snuffed out.
I need to see what wrestlers start burning bright in his wake.
Two Years On—My Love
Once I realized I was a butch lesbian, the rest quickly fell into place.
What I can tell you about my lover is that he utterly captivates me. Nel is someone who I was captivated by before we began dating, from the moments of laughter we shared together to catching glimpses of his intelligence & fiery personality. I thought Nel was fucking cool. When we got closer through shared passions & especially creativity, it was like finding a link in a chain I didn’t know I’d want to connect to.
I did, I wanted to, badly.
I wouldn’t lay the realization of lesbianism all on Nel, that came with a lot of thinking on both the past & present; being around other lesbians, him & our friends Ada & Kish (who were gifted with the comedic flusteredness of my crush prior to asking Nel out) certainly helped. Though when it came time to ask, on the time difference between the 29th & 30th of September in our time zones, I asked.
Ever since, I feel like I have lived with a warm sense of happiness in the deepest part of my body that has never left me, even in the darkest pits of distress & other issues.
I will leave some of our relationship to the imagination, but being with Nel is just wonderful. I couldn’t ask for a better lover. I just adore his passions and quirks, the things that make him Nel are the things I love most about them. As butches we’ve always clicked to similar beats, but the beauty of him to me is in the areas he differs are the ones where I click in, the serendipity of the two of us, our outer shells and our soft insides, there is a safety I know with Nel that I never knew before.
I love him, so much.
This year being our senior year, I know the weight on our plates, how things can become cyclical and we end our days exhausted more often than not. Because of that, I’m letting myself feel warm about the future, if this is year two, and I’m able to hold this warmth, what kind of light will the future bring.
Nel, my darling, may we have many, many more.
Time in the Light: Original Wrestling Fiction
This piece was orginally published during the 2023-2024 school year for a course on short fiction, this piece has been modified from it’s original version after workshopping and reflection
The first thing Céline notices is the bitching, about two minutes before her trainers call them all to attention for their daily drills.
“Why do the broads get their own locker room?”
A stocky man whispers behind his fringe at a distance from her, but Céline catches his hissing anyhow. She can’t remember his name, but his gimmick fits the brooding douche; some kind of fallen angel, a complex thing, she guesses.
“There’s only two of them, what a waste of fucking space.”
Another guy, not a wrestler mind you. The kid’s too young to wrestle under the commission, his nepotistic belief in a free ticket to winning the belt when he turns 18 shows in the contempt in his voice.
It’s true, of everyone who’s gone through the training school, women are few and far between.
Wrestling is a quiet activity in the Southwest, despite lucha libre dominating the popular conscious and late-night telecasts when Céline was small; the independent wrestling scene is fraught and minute though Céline saw no other path for herself when she signed on to train here, makeup of the class be damned.
The other broad in question steps out of the same place of ire.
Astronomica is her ring name. According to Buck, their trainer, it was the name she came with.
Céline found it commanding to say the least, leaving nothing to be said for her stature and build.
Astronomica is wide and tall; the curves of her body leave a lot of space to slam into her side. Her grip is suffocating and tight and the power in her thighs has sent her flying across the mat more than she could count.
It’s captivating, really.
She doesn’t know her shoot name, and truly hasn’t spoken to her much beyond pleasantries and calling matches despite all the time and space the two of them have in the shared locker room. It’s not to say she hasn’t studied the woman, her movements and tone.
The way her personality radiates within the ring is hard to ignore and Céline has caught herself admiring the wrestler from her side of the locker room more than she’d like to admit.
Buck calls the group’s attention before she can gawk at muscles across Astronomica’s arms further.
When she joined the school, Astronomica was already here having registered several months prior, and the two of them were quick to set a rule. Intergender matches were the day-to-day training, more than anyone else, they both wrestled the other men. Astronomica came from a family of athletes and was used to the roughness. Céline knew how to fight men from years of
friendship and more time playing football than she’d like to admit.
Neither of them would say it in the gym but their intergender opponents were simply minor steppingstones.
To fight each other, that was a challenge.
The first time they take each other, it’s the end of practice, it’s the last match of the night before cleaning, and despite Buck giving the boys shit for trying to take off, it’s not hard to feel their disinterest.
Now Céline takes on the vibrant form of MisSTAR, staring down Astronomica from the opposite corner with baggy eyes and a wild grin.
Wrestling, gets call it a lot of things. Entertainment, sports, a technical feat.
MisSTAR sees it as a dance.
When they lock up, Astronomica smells like sweat, smoke, and vanilla spray deodorant.
The chasm between her thick eyebrows is tight, her gaze is focused. The hold shifts, and MisSTAR reacts quick to the lurch her opponent gives her forearms in an attempt to break it.
MisSTAR wastes no time: it’s size versus agility, and she refuses to let her stature stop her.
It’s an elbow to the gut of Astronomica and a push to create distance. MisSTAR runs, flies against the ropes, past Astronomica and to the other side.
From the crowd, the crack of her knee to the back of Astronomica’s head is deafening.
MisSTAR collides like a heat seeking missile, and Astronomica is thrown into the center of the mat the second MisSTAR can get her footing.
She doesn’t stop there, MisSTAR is climbing to the closest corner. She’s been working on this; it’s been a sore point before.
Her balance catches on the top turnbuckle, and she spreads her arms wide.
For a moment, MisSTAR is weightless through the air, and crashes deep into her. Her tilt-a-whirl crossbody gets a shout even from the disinterested jobbers hanging around in the stands. It was her big moment, spiraling through the air, until she comes crashing down on Astronomica’s shimmering kneepads with a sick thud.
The rest of the match goes quick after that, where MisSTAR leads the opening, the latter half of the match is dominated by the shooting star herself.
Astronomica is hard to deny when a hip attack is thrown into MisSTAR’s face and chest after she was tossed into the turnbuckle pad with the whip of her arms. It’s fuzzy stumbling, and her silvery haze of her opponent’s gesturing hands tugged her body to the center of the ring, but the scream from
Astronomica as she flies forward for her backfist and the spinning behind her eyes means an ending.
A short count to three, and it’s all over.
Céline’s brain isn’t particularly on right now, Astronomica’s ‘Total Impact’ and eating the pin will do that to her regardless of being practiced, but she nods in appreciation at her and shuffles along once practice officially ends.
It’s been a long night, the ache in her is deeper than bone.
She needs a shower, first thing.
When she gets to her side of the locker room, she strips out of the gear she managed to keep on at the end of practice, and cringes at the way her breasts stick from the sweat.
Her shoulders aren’t any better, and Céline forces the tension down as she peels off her shorts.
Shower shoes on, towel around her waist, she moves along the empty rows of lockers.
“Hey–”
Astronomica is sitting at the last bench on the right, tucked back in the corner.
Céline turns to face her and, all at once, is seeing someone far different from the dynamo in the ring. Her hair is down, for the first thing. She’s used to seeing it in thick braids set on top of her head.
A second thing: Normally, Astronomica wears a tight-fitting top, that curves around her forearms and ends mid-stomach. It rides up during the match on occasion, but only now is Céline appreciating the sheer volume of muscle and shape on her body.
That is nothing to be said of the fact that the absence of the tank leaves space for the deep, wide swooping flesh; Céline admires the smoothness like polished stone. Stretchmarks and spots dance across her skin. An urge to count them like falling asteroids and distant stars hits her harder than any punch.
“I wanted to tell you, your moonsault has been getting better.”
Céline smiles at this and feigns a calm tone.
“I appreciate it-” an awkward chuckle, “you really gotta show me how you throw that much power into your spinning back fist, yknow.”
Astronomica stands up, she’s still wearing her kick pads and pants, but that doesn’t resolve the fluttering in Céline’s gut.
She’s looking up at her now, and Astronomica is standing with her hand on her hip.
“You know, you’re built like some of the people I threw with.”
Threw with?
The confusion of Céline’s face likely reads, because Astronomica continues, “It’s where I get my form for the backfist from, if you throw shotput, the movement and momentum is similar, let me show you.”
Céline stands there and watches her step back, she recognizes the stance from the moment before the backfist, but instead, Astronomica rocks her hips before taking off. Her feet skid against the linoleum floor and her body follows them, the momentum is in her hips, her thighs, throwing her around. Céline steels herself for the collision with her chest, but the flutters make her waver.
Instead of the hit, her arm flies in the air, she’s pushing the shotput instead, and she’s face to face with the rise and fall of her chest.
“See?” Her arm falls, and Astronomica is giving her a surprisingly sheepish grin.
“It’s all in the hips, all in the force in your legs, and carrying that motion up and out.”
Astronomica’s voice is softer, here, and she walks closer to Céline with each pause in her words.
They’re close, not as close as they’d be during a lock-up or a pin, but close enough for the palpations to rattle her. She’s hot again, almost sweating, surely, it’s just the lack of AC– It’s gotta be that –
“Yknow,” Astronomica’s lips curl up, “ you got a lot to work with MisSTAR.”
Céline’s ring name whines in her ears, nothing like the way the ring announcer screams it out; she clutches her towel tight, and lets a smirk rise above the heat.
“It’s Céline.” She offers.
Astronomica grins at that, “Well, then it’s Data.”
Céline’s heart leaves her pulsing, but her mouth and her ego bubbles out regardless, “Maybe I’ll show you more of what I’m working with.”
Sly, sure, a challenge, something to heat them both up.
She’s burning.
“I’d like that.” Astr-Data’s voice hums in fascination.
Céline is not good at hiding the heat in her eyes.
“Now go shower up, it’s gettin late.” Data nods towards the clock, and Céline cringes a little, it’s
set five minutes early, but she still doesn’t like the location of the hour hand at all.
Céline waves with her free hand and bids Data a goodnight.
Making it to the shower, waiting for things to quiet, she takes off her towel, turns to crack her
back.
Céline sighs and turns the shower cold.
It turns out, their in ring chemistry works just as well when they’re paired up. Buck suggested it
so his boys could get practice before the West Coast tag tournament, but Céline and Data were
open to the idea.
Since their moment in the locker room, the two began to talk more. It’s unsurprising when wrestlers talk about wrestling, but Céline can’t help but blush and grin like a madwoman when Data shows her the
collection of vintage joshi tapes the two start to study between practices.
They camp out at each other’s places between shows some nights, drifting off to Cutie Suzuki matches between glasses of wine and hours of talking.
When Data invites her to stay one night, cuddled up under one of Data’s many blankets as she
loads a new All Japan tape, Céline happily opens up the blanket to her, and Data relishes in her
partner’s warmth.
Their tag work gets better as they travel and train, and the minimal press coverage the area gets
is quick to highlight them as standouts. It’s the most press either pair has received since the start
of their careers, and the thrill it gives only brings them closer.
It’s a match for their local that sets them apart, Buck took the time to book a tag team out of San
Francisco for this show. For the faults of the industry, he did try for them.
Buzz began to grow when the Solar Flares faced Doll Parts.
For their credit, Doll Parts—Jem Plastic and Rosa Atómica—brought a violent punk flair
neither of the pair were accustomed to.
Part wrestling, part performance art–the crowd screams out when MisSTAR shreds down
Plastic’s sparkling fishnets in the rush of a DDT.
Astronimica is slapped hard with Rosa’s signature sparkle. The crowd is getting louder and
louder by the second and with he satisfying powerbomb Astronomica gets on Plastic while
they jeer when she bends like the brutalized Barbie she’s based on.
Though Astronomica isn’t legal, and she leaves the crumpled form of her opponent to her
ascending partner and guns for Atómica on outside. The fans are quick to jump up and
cheer around the fighting pair, but something else catches their attention.
The stunned crowd is chanting for her assension, MisSTAR perked up on the buckle as the
lights sparkle against her spandex suit. The jump sends her spinning yet again.
The three count is deafened by the roar. When the ref holds the winning pair’s hands, all
Céline can do is grin at the woman beside her.
The two are together more than they are apart. They tag in the ring and they travel to shows.
When the drives get long, and the road gets rougher, they agree to start staying together to save
time, money and gas. The situation is comfortable, especially so when Data moves from the pull
out couch to Céline’s warm bed.
If you asked Céline, it just felt right. Yes, her burning crush on the woman had definitely been a
factor, but the connection between them felt far deeper to her.
They spent hours on the road, talking about everything from their past to their present, their passions outside of the sport.
Céline shares her art for the first time since college with Data, after showing her mock ups for
matching gear. She watches her partner’s fingers in reverence as Data traces over the lines and
metallic fabric swatches with fascination.
Céline learns, after one particularly long trip, that Data is still a student, a Masters student no less, and lovingly indulges the women as she’s reading a draft out loud as they drive through the Nevada desert.
Data couldn’t deny it either, when she allowed herself to open, Céline made herself at home,
warm and radiating in her chest. It’s the drive she loves, the way Céline pushes the boundaries of
the rigid norm around her and casts that light around her. Céline can end a bar brawl quicker than
a squash match, but holds Data in bed like she’d hold priceless art. To say Data feels safe in the
hands of her partner would be an understatement.
They’re a unit, and they’re happy with these conditions.
Eventually it’s Data who slams a flyer on Céline’s shitty bedside folding table one night while
staying at her place. There’s openings for a new promotion; Lavender Wrestling League.
The kitschy neon blue highlight along a line—likely added by Data herself—is prodded at by her
short nails.
‘Women Tag Titles Yet To Be Claimed’
With stardust in her eyes, it’s hard to say no to Data’s raw energy. If they go for this, it could put
them on the map. This is a chance for something bigger, and they’d be fools not to take it. It’s a rare an indie like this pops up in this part of the country.
There are others, of course, it’s rare that titles for people like them get the spotlight, and the
league sets out a tag tournament in their debut location. The Arizona Red Rocks are vibrant even
against the white barn house, and the distant lavender fields that gave the promotion it’s
namesake sends floral notes between the typical wrestling stench.
Theres eight teams, and the tournament is getting eyes both for it’s uniqueness and the debut of a
new promotion. The eyes on them are undeniable, especially when press is involved. It’s the
brightest, most packed venue the pair has been in. Céline and Data do wonder quietly who’s
bankrolling the affair, but given the current stakes, they’d worry about pay after they became
champions.
First match in, they’re set against two green girls just out of the nearest training school.
The two know their basics, the Flares are grateful for that, since it’s their match to lead.
They play up everything they’ve worked on so far.
MisSTAR is legal now as she’s meant to raise the crowd, like morning glow and ozone she
leaves the crowd dazed and dazzled in the spirals of her shimmering kicks and glowing
punches.
Eventually the panic from the girls will set in, they’ll gang up on MisSTAR with the hope to
put out the Sun.
She tags in Astronomica and all at once the light is changed, eclipsing every bit of
momentum their opponents have. Where they try to orbit around her, it’s the fire in
Astronomica’s grip and the oppressive pressure of her slam that leaves her victim all but
helpless to the very danger Astronomica has been eclipsing.
The sun can be dangerous, it can burn, and when MisSTAR spirals into the sky, even
Astronomica wonders if she’ll catch flame.
Satin clings to Data’s bare back, the Santa Fe heat is oppressive this time of year, but it doesn’t
stop the jocks from clinging to each other. Céline is between her thighs, her square face
squeezed softly, framed below by dark curls.
“Did they really name you after the Star Trek character?”
Céline takes traces at the inside of dark thighs, ever closer to the twitching heat that got the pair
in this mess.
Data gasps out, “It was a nickname before I took it for mine-now stop talking about my parents!”
Her partner does laugh at this, “S’cute–I took mine right out of a baby book.”
Scorching lips surround the heat between Data’s legs, Céline groans around her clit, and she
relents to the hands pushing her knees apart. Head tilted back, hands twitching in the gaudy
magenta under her.
Data rocks her hips, glancing at the title belts they left on Céline’s clothes covered chair and the
way her lover’s breasts reflect off the silver.
Data basks in her lover’s light.
The night they are crowned champions, things are tense. Céline gets more call ups, but she stays
behind, Data gets offers for Japan, but they don’t want them both. Every single match they share
together, the more they’re asked to come apart.
The LWL belts. They keep them together. It’s a reign they hold onto by the skin of their teeth.
The promotion does pay well, as they later learn the location they’ve been wrestling in was an
old lavender and wine grape farm, bought by a butch and her femme looking to have a place for
the events and organizations they cared about; just their luck the pair loved professional
wrestling.
For a long time things are good, they travel, they wrestle, they train, they fuck. Céline and Data
take pleasure in a place they know they are safe in, the sort of peaceful isolation that comes with
the tender intimacy of love in private.
Though neither of them hide it. Not here, not now, in and out of the ring their adoring fans
scream just as much for their tender touches as a team as the devastating blows they throw at
their opponents.
That is, until, someone sees it to intervene.
As nice as the gig is, as much as the crowds love them, wrestling has its traditions. The queer has
its place, but it’s never the main event for long. A place like Lavander Wrestling League is rich
with criticism no matter how they try to shrug it off. Everyone from the owners to the wrestlers
gets caught under watchful eyes of the industry, and the obsessive misogyny and
sexism fans of the sport allow to foam from their mouths.
Whispers and rumors run wild across locker rooms and forums, a litany of concerned watchers
can’t help but speak up. Look at the way they look at each other, they way they touch, that can’t
be put on a grand stage.
Break them up, book series where they destroy each other in and out of the ring.
Changes in the booking happen all the time.
What could be done.
Who it hurts? Who it breaks?
The orbit shifts.
At one show, Data gets a chance for a smoke break while Céline sat in catering, she’s leaning
against the trunk of her car when she notices it’s uneven tilt. It’s then she notices the left tire in
the darkness, slashed and flat.
For the rest of that show, Céline notices her tension, but not the
rubber and oil stains on Data’s hands from secretly replacing the tire with it’s spare.
The crowds get harsher, and it’s the darling femme of the owner pair, a greying woman named
Taylor, who warns Data that if things get worse, they might have to go with a safer plan, one that
protects the pair if the aggression makes it’s way to a show.
The stress is getting too much to process, planning a program where a kayfabe fight splits the
pair up, the tension bubbling until they can’t handle it anymore. A program to pull the attention
away from their relationship makes nothing but sense.
Data should have known that any advanced plan could have gone to shit. Their popularity ran in
tandem with the vitrol. It’s getting to the both of them, sleepless stressed out nights between the
aches and pain, the notifications online the pair is forced to mute, the manifestation of a deeper
terror taking hold.
They’re good for starting the feud at the next Pay Per View, okayed among the parties who need
to know and noone else. Céline doesn’t sugarcoat her frustration at the expectation of her
‘victory’ in this feud, Data doesn’t hide her concern. They hold each other, they’re ready for
anything, they promise.
That is, until, all of that is thrown away the second MisSTAR misses a flip on the guard rail
during a house show, weeks before a plan can be put into action.
It’s an instant stoppage, the shock of the crowd, Data, and the referee changes the tone of the
room in an instant.
Medical wheels Céline straight to the onsite ambulance. Data follows behind.
They drop the belts.
The doctors Céline’s jaw shut.
Standing in her hospital room, Data screams, she talks, she watches the cars with out of state plates hover around the hospital. In the silence she shares with Céline, the questions start to linger, and the poking follows soon after.
A call from the booker, the butch. A suggestion to pivot graces her ears, one that comes out with an ache.
A resolution, a way to end things with as much peace as they can afford.
Céline takes the laptop, browsing down the colums and feeds of headlines and rumors.
“Lavender Lovers Scorned, Beloved Tag Team Shattered.”
“Dark Skies, The Solar Flares Vanish after Injury and Fight”
For once, Céline enjoys reading dirtsheets.
She honestly can’t remember half of what Data said to her, high on whatever worked with her
allergy, but she did remember the plan before the doctors took her away.
“I’m gonna look out for you, protect us, make sure we get you some privacy to heal up.”
Maybe she was losing it from the adrenaline, but it looked like Data had mouthed I love you
before the swinging doors hid her nervous partner.
And now they’re laying here, together in Céline’s bed, back home on the border of Arizona and
New Mexico.
They can’t talk, at least, not Céline, but they have time to sketch out a plan through sign, whiteboard notes and codes tapped on skin. Céline floats between waves of pleasure, painkillers, and adoring touch.
Though eventually, the days draped in plush blankets and quivering knees are
traded for physical therapy and reading contracts.
The bookers don’t know, of course, that they’re staying together. Southwest wrestlers are a black
hole if Cagematch is any indicator, so Céline signs on with a company out in California, and
Data takes jobs out East.
It’s safer this way, they think.
Still, the pair cling to their moments together like grappling on the mat, engulfed in each other,
with Céline whispering plans to finally come back in the ring and put Data over for good, to
settle any question that she was the star.
Data, though, she traces the scars on her lover’s jaw with veneration, and the ache of her hip
presses into the mattress dull and heavy.
She wonders if they’ll get a chance to use the same baby book Céline used to pick her name.
She wonders if the dirt sheets will mind the silence and leave them be.
She wonders if they’ll have time.
Posted in Original Fiction, Writing
Tagged Lavender Wrestling League, Original Charactes, Wrestling
Leave a comment
E-Begging Again
Please help me make it another month. I’m going to have a job by the first of the month, but I’ll need work pants and non-slip shoes. I still have bills I need to pay, and in all likelihood the start of the school year is going to be quite brutal.
My Paypal, Venmo, and Cashapp are all the same @ackasi
My Ko-Fi is still up and running, if you’re in the snail mail tier, I should have things sent out by the end of the month.
Every dollar that I get goes to paying my rent and utilities first, then goes into my debt or purchasing necessities I cannot purchase on EBT. Support from earlier this month let me buy shampoo and conditioner.
Posted in Logs
Leave a comment
