Founding Ceremony, Part 3
Chris Jacob made a blistering declaration of his return and left the ring.
During the brief commercial break, Selma spoke as if everything had gone perfectly.
“Wow! Lucky you, Rina. You’re finally getting to meet Jacob.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“Because you ate heat right along with him?”
“Yeah.”
Troy was still snorting with residual anger.
“But that sequence just now—that was insanely fast, right?”
“Drop to hold into a crossface?”
“Yeah. How does a body like that generate that kind of speed? He snapped into it like lightning.”
Even I had been startled. There couldn’t have been much time for him and Troy to lock in chemistry, yet the moves had chained together like a flash of light.
“There’s technique to it. The kind of technique that comes from being that good.”
“You think so? If I ask him to teach me later, will he?”
“Hard to say. I’ve seen Jacob’s matches, but I don’t really know what he’s like as a person… Ask him yourself when you get the chance.”
“Yeah. There’ll be time for that eventually.”
After a short rest, Part Two began.
Part Two was the tournament draw.
“NEXT is doing theirs Noble Rumble style, but we have no intention of going that route. You can’t even bet a beer with your friends on a match like that.”
Casey hadn’t just inherited her mother’s talent—she seemed to have surpassed it. Her mic work felt almost like her grandfather Victor McMahon’s.
“Whoa. She’s really good.”
“Blood doesn’t lie.”
“Nah. She’s been practicing for years.”
The wrestlers around us were making similar assessments.
“We’re crowning our champions with a sixteen-person tournament!”
The crowd erupted at the word tournament.
“Singles matches for both men and women start in the round of sixteen. We’ll run through the quarterfinals and then select a Final Four. That Final Four will be a Fatal 4-Way… TLC match. That’s right—climb the ladder and grab the belt.”
Aside from the tournament structure itself, the elements were familiar.
“You thought it was ordinary, didn’t you?”
Casey spoke as if she had read every mind in the building.
“They’ll be hanging in the air. One will be a first-tier championship belt. The other will be a second-tier championship belt!”
“Whoa! So even second place is worth something.”
“Yeah. Two people could even team up.”
“But here’s the catch.”
Casey wore a genuinely pained expression.
The crowd murmured, What?
“The belts will be inside bags, so you won’t know which is the first-tier belt and which is the second-tier. And we won’t hand over the keys until the match is completely over. Exactly three bags will be hanging. One of them contains a championship challenge right. Oh—and it’s not Money in the Box. Just a straight challenge. So three out of four people walk away with something. Isn’t that a little too generous for the wrestlers?”
Laughter rolled through the stands, but the wrestlers themselves looked irritated.
“What the hell? So even if you grab one first, it might still be the second-tier belt.”
“Second-tier would still be lucky. The last one’s a dud.”
“…Yeah.”
“It’s pure luck.”
“Ha! Whoever cooked this up is a complete bastard.”
“Hey, it’s not like you or I are winning the whole thing anyway. At least it’ll be fun to watch.”
A few people immediately latched onto that last comment.
“True. Vianna, Nadia, and Hailey will be the ones fighting it out. Dark horses? Mariah, Lilac, maybe Mina Keynes.”
“Yeah. Haha. This is gonna be fun.”
“We just get to sit back and watch.”
Honestly, Selma and I were in the same boat. If we caught a good storyline, we might make the quarterfinals. And if we drew Vianna or Nadia in the first round, we were walking out with a clean loss.
Staff wheeled a giant board into the ring and set a black-cloth-covered box beside it.
“We’ll start with the men. Any wrestler whose name isn’t drawn will get a separate match later. And there will be tag team matches too, so don’t be disappointed.”
Casey reached into the box, pulled out a plastic ball, and cracked it open.
“Men’s number one is a powerhouse from NEXT. Joshua.”
“Men’s number two is the Living Legend, Sandy Orton.”
The draws continued, and by the end a massive quarterfinal had been set: Sandy Orton versus Chris Jacob. Troy hadn’t drawn an easy path either. He would face the winner of Tank Walker versus Brooke Breaker in the quarters.
The arena was on fire. Even the casters at the announce desk and Booker K—who had crossed over to Rebellion—looked visibly pumped.
“That’s rigged too, right? How’d they do it?”
“If you feel the balls, you can probably tell them apart.”
“This place is a full-on con artist convention.”
I couldn’t disagree with Selma. This was where the world’s best liars gathered. If wrestlers ever ran insurance scams, even the adjusters and cops would probably get taken.
“Now for the women’s tournament bracket!”
“For the record, number sixteen will be filled by me at my discretion. We’re currently in talks to bring someone in. That okay with everyone?”
In this atmosphere, not a single fan shouted No!
“Women’s number one needs no introduction. Nadia Jackson.”
“Her opponent, women’s number two, is a two-time champion from NEXT. Cornelia.”
“Women’s number three is another big name. Olivia from TPA.”
The announcements rolled on. When Selma’s name was called seventh, her opponent was Lilac Valkyrie—the perfect stylistic match, the one who would make their chemistry shine brightest. They were clearly placing people with some method behind it.
I wasn’t called for a long time. Then I landed at fourteen.
“A wrestler who has been a sensation since her debut. Number fourteen is Charina.”
My opponent was Aurora Love from NEXT. She was popular for her looks, but she wasn’t a particularly strong in-ring performer.
The final draw, number fifteen, went to Lily Klein of NEXT—an all-rounder and a veteran with some years under her belt. Whoever number sixteen turned out to be, they had clearly been placed with that matchup in mind.
But who was it? Charlotte? Miyu Sky? Were they crossing over?
The final bracket settled into place.
1. Nadia Jackson vs 2. Cornelia
3. Mariah Monroe vs 4. Olivia
5. Mizuki Miho vs 6. Hailey
7. Selma vs 8. Lilac Valkyrie
9. Vianna Belair vs 10. Mina Keynes
11. Meguri Aika vs 12. Diane Sweeney
13. Aurora Love vs 14. Charina
15. Lily Klein vs 16. ????
“Heh. What a fascinating set of matchups. I’m genuinely excited. As for the men’s tag teams, we’ll take applications after the round of sixteen is finished. That makes sense, right?”
The crowd stayed hot on the strength of those intriguing pairings.
“Mind if I hold the mic a little longer?”
The arena roared Yes! Someone screamed, “Casey! I love you!”
“Thank you. Now, some of these names you know, some you don’t. Basic wrestler info will go up on the website. But that’s not what matters right now!”
The crowd’s immersion and energy were unreal. Honestly, I was far prettier than Casey—body, face, everything. Yet the blonde hair and the heir-to-the-throne aura seemed to give her a solid +30. Still, she was a much better talker than me.
“A matchup card like this can’t go without betting, right?”
The crowd answered with a full-throated Oh! Yes! and Hell yeah!
“Betting will run two ways on the website. First: before the opening match, pick the four champions and two challengers. Anyone who nails all six correctly will receive a mid-size sedan courtesy of HK Motors. One entry per account, so choose carefully.”
The promise of free cars nearly brought the entire building to its feet.
“Second: up until thirty minutes before each show, pick the winners of that night’s matchups. Anyone who sweeps every winner will be randomly selected to receive a jersey and a T-shirt. The round of sixteen might be tough, but the quarters should be a little easier, right?”
The crowd roared again.
“Whoa. Is she insane?”
“They’re just throwing money around. Is that okay?”
“It has to be okay if they’re doing it.”
The cars were probably free from HK Motors, and those T-shirts? Retail thirty-five dollars, but the cost was under ten. They had plenty of inventory; this was a perfect chance to dump it all.
Casey never once lost control of the room. She owned the entire show and brought the founding ceremony to a triumphant close.
When we returned to the locker room afterward, even veterans like Nadia and Hailey were giving Casey her due.
“She was good. Real good, boss.”
“Yeah. I’ll give her that. Felt like watching Victor McMahon up on that stage.”
Coming from Hailey, that was the highest possible praise. People could trash Victor’s business decisions and personal life all they wanted, but his ring segments stood toe-to-toe with even “Stone Cold.”
The women’s side was still buzzing about Casey and the tournament. The men’s side had clustered around Jacob. I wanted to go over and say hello, but tonight wasn’t the only night.
Click-clack, click-clack.
The bright sound of high heels approached, and Casey walked in. Paul was right behind her. Someone started clapping; everyone joined in, and a few people even whistled.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
Wheeeee-wheet!
“Nice work, boss.”
“Tonight’s show was all-time.”
“Better than Paul!”
“Paul just scowls—no substance!”
“Hahaha.”
Casey raised a hand in thanks.
“Everyone, great work tonight. Starting tomorrow we train at the Performance Center through Sunday, then we head to Vancouver on Monday. Every round-of-sixteen match will get at least fifteen minutes, so prepare hard. Teams that didn’t get drawn will still receive weekly matches. And you’ll all be guaranteed spots in the tag title picture, so don’t be discouraged.”
Whoever had planned it, they had at least tried to keep things fair. Even the Wild Cats who hadn’t been selected looked noticeably brighter.
“That’s it for today. Be at the Performance Center by ten tomorrow.”
“Thank you for your hard work!”
The founding ceremony—an event of real importance—was over.
I was curious why Jacob had returned, but I was even more curious about the identity of women’s number sixteen. Jane would never tell me, of course…
It was that kind of night.