Dorothy Oswalt. 2
Following Casey's advice, Stacey had arrived more than an hour early, which meant she managed to snag a pretty good seat.
"Hmm. They've definitely made some noise. It's been a long time since I've seen this many people at a TPA show."
"And there are a lot of female fans too. Looks like the Inquisitors are getting over with them."
"New faces, young, and their in-ring work was solid. Well, nothing compared to when I debuted, but…"
Stacey hadn't seen that either, so she let it slide without comment.
"Looks like the dark matches are done."
"From what I heard, TPA's been running dark matches separately for a select group of fans lately. More like a full showcase or a meet-and-greet."
"The fans must love that."
On John's orders—if you could call them that—Stacey had even gone and bought hot dogs herself. They ate together while waiting for the show to start.
About thirty minutes later, the first match kicked off.
"I can't focus at all. Is it just me?"
"Same here. If they can't work a match off spots, they could at least rehearse. Doesn't look like they did a single thing. Lazy. Back in my day, we stayed up all night locking in our timing."
"How many kids do that these days? The second they get a little heat, they're too busy partying."
Fortunately, the first match was only ten minutes long. Then Olivia and Selma's match began.
Whether they wanted to put the spotlight on Selma or not, the veteran Olivia entered first.
"Seeing her in person, she's even bigger than our Nadia."
"Their listed weights are about the same, but she's shorter, so she looks thicker."
Then Selma walked out with a haughty stride. She seemed to have found a little more confidence—she even high-fived a few fans along the way.
"Don't tell me she's going to try lifting Olivia too."
"No way. If she did, I'd report her for PEDs on the spot."
Selma worked the match the classic way a lightweight handles a big woman. She couldn't match the power, so she targeted Olivia's lower body—dropkicks, rope-assisted crossbodies, knee strikes. The first couple of shots landed, but Olivia caught her right after. Enraged by the string of knee attacks, Olivia grabbed Selma and drove her down with a power slam that looked more like a throw.
— Thud —
"Aaaagh!"
Selma clutched her back and howled, but Olivia immediately kicked her midsection, scooped her sideways, and slammed her waist into the ring post.
"Aaaah!"
The timing and facial selling were fine. The scream, however, was all wrong.
"What's with that scream?"
"Right? It sounds so forced."
"If you're going to do that, just cut it short with a sharp 'agh.'"
Selma fired back with a spinning heel kick, an enzuigiri, a headscissors whip. Then she charged at Olivia, who was face-down on the canvas, grabbed an arm, and cranked the joint.
"Urrrgh…"
Olivia groaned through it and still got to her feet. With Selma hanging off her arm, she hoisted her one-handed and drove her down like a powerbomb.
— Thuuud —
"Olivia's power is the real deal. How has a wrestler like that stayed under the radar?"
"She used to be really awkward with her hammering and chops. Between her match with Charina and tonight… she's improved a lot."
"Really? I don't see any of that stiffness at all. Looks like the correction stuck. Hmm. Putting her in a match with our Nadia Jackson would be fun."
Even while watching the match, their professional instincts kicked in and they started writing scenarios on the fly.
"That, and if those two teamed up, it'd be even better. A two-hundred-kilo powerhouse duo would scream final boss. And with a powerhouse duo, even a one-sided squash gets a pass from the fans—and if it's a close match, the losing side still gets credit for the performance."
"You're right. That's way better. I can already see the picture."
Selma wasn't done. She planted a foot on the bottom rope and went for a springboard cutter. She managed to snag Olivia's neck from behind—but Olivia didn't go down. Olivia spun Selma sideways in a flash and dropped her with a backbreaker. After taking that much damage to her back all night, that was it for Selma. One more chokeslam, Olivia covered, and the match was over.
"That was a good match."
"Yeah. Selma's the type who really shines when you put her with someone who can work. And Olivia was excellent too. Glad we got to see her."
"Thinking of bringing Olivia in? The rookies are one thing, but someone at Olivia's level might actually be doable."
"I don't know. I'll watch a little longer and think about it."
Then came the third match—the women's tag team title match. Being a championship bout, they'd expected something. But the timing was off here too. The early going was all strikes; from the mid-point on, it was just a parade of big moves. Spamming big moves isn't the point—it felt like they were saying, Look what I can do. If you're going to work that way, at least sell like Charina and Olivia did… The recipients were taking the moves way too early, and the intent was written all over it.
"Isn't the skill gap between these wrestlers way too big? They look worse than Selma."
"That's why they're partnering with us. And both Paul and you need to start paying more attention to TPA and EAW. They're not exactly strangers—how do you know so little about them?"
"You know I was out of it with the ankle surgery and rehab. After that I was buried just trying to get back up to speed at work. I'll start paying attention from now on."
While they talked, the champions successfully defended the titles. Whether TPA knew there were problems with the match quality or not, even a title match wrapped a little past the ten-minute mark. Considering Selma and Olivia had gone over fifteen, this one was shorter still.
"At least it ended quickly."
"They booked seven matches tonight—that's probably why. And the real stars of the evening are the rookies."
Then a fierce guitar riff ripped through the arena, the crowd erupted, and some of the male fans actually shot up out of their seats. The name on the big screen said it all: Charina.
Tonight she wore a plain black sleeveless top and ordinary jeans. Red had suited her well, but her skin was even fairer than most white women's, and black somehow looked better on her. Charina rolled out on a skateboard, tracing a lazy S-curve as she made her way down. She smiled, shook hands with the kids in the front, and approached the ring with total ease. There was something about her in person—an aura of pure prettiness—that the TV cameras never quite captured.
"Shit. She's even prettier in real life. Fans are going to start showing up just to see her."
"My. Cursing at the sight of a beautiful woman? I didn't know John had this side to him."
"Of course I do. Ha! If I'd been born twenty years later… I'd have booked a storyline tying her to me."
John had always worked a playboy gimmick built around his looks, but in practice he'd almost never been put in romantic storylines with women. And now he wanted one.
Even from a woman's perspective, Charina was extraordinarily beautiful—but there seemed to be something else, some other kind of pull, that hit differently for men.
Charina grabbed the ropes and flipped backward into the ring. She worked each corner, greeting the fans, then stretched out across the top rope. Plenty of wrestlers sat on a single strand or reclined in a corner—but lying out on one rope like it was a hammock, completely at ease? She was the first. The crowd answered the performance with a roar.
"Incredible balance. Like watching a tightrope act."
"Think she trained for the circus?"
"Maybe. And this is only her second match—she's got guts. Doesn't look nervous at all."
"Miyu Sky might have to give up that 'Genius of the Sky' nickname."
"That's the kind of thing you settle with a match. Put the nickname on the line. If Miyu wins, end of story."
Stacey was genuinely startled by how quickly John had gone there.
"John! Did you swap your back for a new brain? How do you just spit out scenarios like that on the spot? You seem smarter."
"Haha. That a compliment? But my back's still more important than my head."
Then, to upbeat music, Dorothy Oswalt made her entrance.
"Dorothy might have accepted a match with a rookie, but she's got her pride—she'll win, right?"
"Time's passed, but that pride hasn't. Dorothy is absolutely not the type to job to a brand-new rookie. Tch. If she'd just swallowed a little of that pride, she could've had a long run as a Secondary Champion in WWO."
Hearing John talk, it seemed Dorothy hadn't changed a bit. Unless someone ran in, or Charina snuck a foul past the referee, the result was going to be Dorothy's win.
Charina, still lying on the rope, turned her head just enough to watch Dorothy walk out. The gimmick was pure arrogance. And Dorothy looked furious about it. Once she got close enough to the ring, she tore off her robe, flung it aside, and stormed in. As Dorothy charged, Charina shifted her weight and crouched on a single rope—an absurd display of balance—then leapt clean over the oncoming Dorothy and sprinted for the far ropes.
— Ding ding ding —
The bell rang in a hurry to start the match. Charina bounced off the ropes and fired a dropkick; Dorothy sidestepped it clean. As Charina tried to kick up off the canvas, Dorothy planted a kick square in her face.
— Thwack —
The kick caught her mid-rise and the impact sent Charina rolling a full turn backward. Dorothy hauled her up.
— Gasp —
A collective gasp went up from the crowd.
"A nosebleed? A botch?"
"Not a botch. It didn't hit the nose—it hit the jaw. And the second it landed, she snapped her head back."
John was the best of the best, so of course he caught it immediately—but the sell was so perfect that even Stacey, who'd spent a lifetime in this business, nearly bought it.
"Then where did the blood come from?"
"She grabbed her nose while she was rolling and dug it out."
"In that little time?"
"I don't think normal standards apply to her."
However hard she'd worked her nose, a fair amount of blood came out. It was on her mouth, down to her chin.
"So that's why Charina came out in black and Dorothy in red."
"Looks like it. If Charina had worn red, the blood wouldn't pop as hard. And with Dorothy in red, she can wipe the blood off while they're locked up."
The early going was all Dorothy. After standing Charina up, she hit a German suplex—apparently to make the bleeding worse—then jumped in place and drove a knee into her face. Consecutive jumping knee drops. Cover.
Charina shoved Dorothy off hard on the count of one. She shoved so hard Dorothy's body actually lifted before she hit the mat. Sensing her opening, Charina mounted her and started throwing punches. She seized the momentum and drove Dorothy into the ropes, then caught her on the rebound with a slight twist of the body and dumped her over.
— Thud —
The lionsault that followed hit clean.
"Her repertoire's a lot different from last time. That scoop power slam was crisp too."
"Her move set is really wide."
Charina bounced off the ropes for a leg drop, but this time Dorothy got out of the way. As Charina clutched her backside in pain, Dorothy kicked her in the back and stole the turn.
"Insane pace. The turn switches are flying."
"Wow. My hands are sweating."
"Mine too."
John exhaled and kept going.
"Haa. Forget wins and losses—I don't even know how much time they've got allotted. It's driving me crazy."
As someone who'd always watched matches as an insider, John usually had a rough sense of the scenario. A match where he knew nothing at all was clearly unfamiliar territory.
"John. You're completely locked in, aren't you?"
"Yeah. I'll admit it. This is too much fun."
Stacey nodded in agreement.