My first DTW match signed, sealed, and delivered.
Thank the gods! It felt good to wrestle how I'd wanted to, without limitations, without rules, without sanctions put in to take away everything that makes me special, and without motherfucking stage hands in black grabbing all the shit I intended to use to beat the fuck out of people with and spiriting it away to the back.
I'm singing "Grandma Got Run Over By a Dragon," a little tune of my own composition and am folding my ring gear up and putting it in my bag when something is wrapped around my neck and tightened.
Hmm. I think it's barbed wire attached to two wooden handles, which are meant to be crossed over behind my neck and twisted tighter and tighter, either increasing the choke, or breaking my neck.
