Collaboration?
The next morning, TPA’s staff assembled for their daily briefing.
“How are the fans reacting?”
“Pretty much the same as we felt. Dorothy and Charina’s match scored a 4.4, Olivia versus Selma a 3.8, and the Hardy Boyz against the Inquisitors a 3.5.”
“The Hardy Boyz match did better than I expected.”
“It probably would have scored even higher if the Inquisitors had won. Still, the Hardy Boyz came in looking sharp—fans got a real hit of nostalgia.”
The media director’s report drew nods from every executive in the room.
“And the other matches?”
“Abysmal. Match one got a 1.5, match three a 2.0, match six another 2.0. The main event barely scraped a 2.3. Plenty of comments calling them sloppy, and just as many saying the outcomes were painfully obvious.”
“Can’t be helped. We can’t change champions this close to Emergence.”
“Still, the chemistry was rough. If those veterans had practiced even half as hard as the rookies, we wouldn’t be hearing that kind of noise.”
Karl agreed with the media director, but he couldn’t exactly force the talent to train.
“Next time we bring someone in, we check their work ethic first.”
“Maybe we should look at bringing talent over from Japan. Most Asian wrestlers are diligent, right? Big drive to succeed.”
Karl nodded; it wasn’t a bad idea.
“Not bad at all. I’ll give it some thought. All right—shall we talk next week’s schedule?”
They had just started discussing the men’s side when Karl’s secretary quietly informed him of an incoming call.
“A call? Who is it?”
“John Michaels from NEXT.”
“John?”
“Did you tell him we’re in a meeting?”
“Yes. He’s insisting on being put through anyway.”
John’s official title was head of creative for NEXT, but his real authority outstripped the brand’s general manager. He simply preferred the creative seat over the GM’s chair; if he ever wanted the Law GM job, he could have it. On top of that, he was a legend among legends. You did not snub a man like that.
“Put him through.”
The secretary tapped the phone and transferred the call.
“Overdia speaking.”
“Long time no see, Overdia.”
“It has been a while. About a month, I think. What can I do for you?”
“Ten minutes. I’ll be there in ten.”
“Excuse me? You didn’t even call first—”
“I’ve been calling your cell since this morning. You never picked up. That’s why I’m calling now.”
Karl checked his phone. It was on silent. Six missed calls. Entirely his own fault.
“Damn it. Fine. We’ll wait.”
“If you’re discussing next week’s schedule, you might want to hold off. I’ll be right there. See you.”
The line went dead. Karl dismissed everyone except Neville Brosnan, the head of creative, and Jane Kim, who handled the rookies.
They were still scrambling to guess why John had shown up when the man himself walked in. Apparently “ten minutes” had meant ten minutes to the office, not the parking lot.
“It’s been a while, Michaels.”
“Good to see you.”
“It really has. Overdia. Brosnan. And Kim.”
“Have a seat.”
Karl gestured to the chair across from him. John sat immediately, turning the table into a three-on-one.
“Coffee? Tea? Water? What’ll it be?”
“Hmm. Feeling like something sweet today…”
“Apple juice, then?”
“Perfect. Ice, if you’ve got it.”
“Of course.”
The secretary who had escorted him gave a quick nod and slipped out.
“So—what brings you here first thing in the morning?”
“Emergence is only two weeks out. I wanted to bounce a few ideas around.”
“I thought we settled that last time… and a phone call would have been enough.”
Two matches with NEXT were already locked for Emergence: a non-title tag bout pitting TPA World Champion Michael and IC Champion Luke against their NEXT counterparts of equal rank, and a title match for Women’s IC Champion Elizabeth Walker against a NEXT challenger. The men’s match was non-title, so NEXT would go over; Elizabeth would retain. Everything had already been decided.
“I saw some interesting matches last night.”
As he spoke, John tipped the cowboy hat that had become his trademark. The lines on his face had multiplied and deepened, but the sharp eyes from his in-ring days were still there.
“Charina?”
“No—all four of them. Or should I say three teams?”
“You want to put them in matches?”
“Exactly.”
A brief silence fell over the TPA side just as the secretary returned with the drinks and set them down.
“You watched last night, then.”
“Of course! Fascinating stuff. Hard to believe all four of them debuted less than a month ago. And the booking was excellent, Brosnan.”
At the compliment, Brosnan shot Jane a look.
“The rookies are Kim’s department.”
“Oh?”
John let out a short hum of appreciation and studied Jane as if seeing her for the first time, giving a small nod.
“Michaels, we can’t scrap that booking.”
“Why not?”
“Selma’s already set for a triple threat with Olivia and Tyna. The Inquisitors are booked against their trainers, the Dudley Boyz. And Charina has a match with Women’s World Champion Anne.”
“Wait—you’re putting a kid who’s been here less than a month in a World title match? You’ve completely lost it.”
There was a limit to how hard you could push someone. Star power or not, this was too much. John was so startled he dropped into casual speech.
“We’re not making her champion. It’s just a challenge—no harm done.”
“Hmm. Then let’s drop one of our girls into that match. Make it a triple threat…”
Karl and Neville both laughed.
“Haha.”
“Heh.”
Jane simply turned her head, as if the suggestion wasn’t even worth answering.
John realized they weren’t just mocking him. His eyes narrowed; his voice turned sharp.
“What are you hiding? What’s the real play here?”
“Slotting someone in isn’t the problem. I’m just not sure NEXT has anyone who can handle it.”
“Is it a TLC match or something?”
“Close. It’s a TLC match—inside a cage, hardcore rules. Thumbtacks and barbed wire are legal. Do you have a woman who can work that kind of match? If you do, we’ll put her in.”
Karl’s reply was calm and unflinching. Neville and Jane both felt the same quiet satisfaction: this was payback for last month’s Hot Slam humiliation.
“You’re insane!”
John slammed the table with a sharp crack.
A male wrestler, maybe. But across the entire WWO roster, there wasn’t a single woman who could work that kind of hardcore match. Sure, someone might say yes if ordered, but Anne had made her name in EAW as a hardcore specialist. Even with a win booked, any challenger would get buried on pure performance.
“And that girl agreed to this? That pretty face could end up scarred.”
“Charina asked for it herself. She put it in writing when she signed. We didn’t have a choice.”
“Ha! Pretty face, completely cracked mind. She’s a full-on Mick Foley.”
Karl answered with a smile.
“Mick Foley—the ‘Hardcore Legend’—is one of her favorites. She said she’d love to meet him someday.”
John’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he finally let out a helpless laugh.
“Heh. Well, damn.”
Silence settled over the conference room. Karl was the one who broke it.
“So—any other thoughts? We can proceed as planned, then?”
“Ha. No choice. All three matches are locked tight. But!”
John put real weight on the last word and locked eyes with Karl. The intensity of that stare made Neville swallow hard.
“But! We’re partners, aren’t we? Lately it feels like we’ve been giving and getting nothing back. We need something out of this too.”
“You know we can’t poach rookies. What do you want?”
“Let us use a couple of your kids on our show for a bit.”
“Matches? Impossible this close to Emergence. And there’s another issue.”
With anyone else he might have stayed quiet or spun a story. But you never knew when the next collaboration might come. Emergence would pass like this, but September would be different—and NEXT might invite them to one of their own events.
“What issue?”
“Ugh. This is embarrassing, but…”
Karl hesitated, then continued.
“Selma and Alf can’t work a mic.”
“What?”
“They’re not used to it, and they’ve both got a bit of camera anxiety.”
“Hmm. Six-month course—not enough time.”
“Exactly.”
At the WWO Performance Center, mic work and acting started in month two and ran hard for the full eleven months. Team 3D Academy only introduced it in month five, so the rookies had barely two months of practice.
“James and Charina are fine, I take it.”
“James is solid, but it’s a tag team—he can’t carry the promos alone. Charina handles herself just fine.”
“Then lend us Charina for one day next Tuesday.”
“What?”
Karl answered too quickly. John raised a calming hand.
“Not a match. Our kids have been stuck in a rut lately. Just have her crash the show, rattle them a little. Hit someone with a powerbomb or a chokeslam, cut a short promo, and walk out. That much should be fine, right?”
Karl glanced at Neville and Jane; both nodded.
“All right. That we can do. But are you sure? The fans’ eyes will be glued to her.”
John pointed a finger skyward.
“Orders from upstairs.”
“Triple J?”
“You don’t need to know that. And it won’t hurt TPA—our audience will start paying attention to you.”
“True enough. Jane can work out the details with you.”
“Sounds good.”
John stood, shook Karl’s hand, and ended the meeting.
“Oh—one more thing. A couple of questions.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Whose idea was the mint-chocolate gimmick? Jane Kim? Brosnan?”
Jane answered.
“That was Rina’s idea.”
“Hmm. Smart kid. One more thing.”
“There’s more?”
They had started formal, but Jane and John had once shared a locker room in WWO; the honorifics dropped fast.
“Of course there is, Jane. What the hell was that submission?”
“Official name is Scissors Ankle Lock. Working name is…”
Jane started to answer, then stopped, let out a short sigh, and turned her head slightly.
“Charina’s Scissors of Desire. We call it CSD.”
“Pfft—hahaha. That name is a masterpiece. Scissors of Desire… Looking at your face, you definitely didn’t come up with it.”
“Please. Like I’d invent something that ridiculous. Rina named it herself. She invented the move, too.”
John had been laughing, but the news that Charina had created the hold herself hit him almost as hard as watching her hit a powerbomb at that size.
“She invented it? A twenty-year-old?”
“Hard to believe, but true.”
“When does she come in?”
“She’s already in the practice room. Ever since she signed, she’s been here at eight sharp every morning.”
“Oh! Impressive. Work ethic to match the talent. Overdia—mind if I just get a look at her before I go?”
Karl nodded his permission.
“Go ahead. Jane, can you show him?”
“Sure. I need to tell Rina about Tuesday at NEXT anyway.”
Jane led the way; John followed her out of the conference room.
Once they were gone, Karl dropped into his chair with a heavy sigh.
“Neville… this is a good thing, right?”
“We never had the right to refuse. That’s how the partnership works.”
“Still feels off. Something about this feels off.”
Karl muttered the words while staring out the window. Orlando’s sky was as clear as ever. Inside his head, though, storm clouds were rolling in.