Aftershock
Mick Foley's home was in New York, but he'd come out to San Diego, saying he preferred somewhere sunny and warm over the cold.
If that was the reason, he could just as easily have stayed in Florida, which was closely tied to WWO — so why he'd specifically chosen San Diego was anyone's guess.
We arrived at a small house by the beach in the car Ariana had rented ahead of time.
The moment I stepped out, I saw someone sitting in a rocking chair in the yard, looking out at the ocean.
His long hair had been cut short, but that bulk alone told me it was Mick Foley.
I'd heard that during his wrestling career, one of his kidneys had been destroyed, his skull had been fractured, and there wasn't a limb that hadn't been broken. The stitch marks on his body alone numbered over three hundred.
Given all that, the aftereffects were inevitably severe, and this was how he was convalescing.
"Wait in the car."
"What?"
"I'll go see him alone, quietly. I think that would be better."
"Ah. Okay."
I took the document bag and a pack of the hot dogs he supposedly liked, and pressed the doorbell.
The door opened immediately, and a familiar woman I'd seen in photos came out.
"Hello. I'm Charina."
"Haa. Why did you contact us this time?"
She cut straight to the point without preamble.
"I won't take up much of his rest. Just a brief moment will do."
"That 'brief moment' isn't about calling him back to the ring again, is it?"
I silently bowed my head.
"Ha! You people are just—!"
"If you look at this scenario, it's absolutely not an unreasonable request…"
"Leave. Mick can't get in the ring anymore. Something really bad will happen."
"It's not anything that dangerous."
"Leave!"
Damn. I knew Mick had completely lost hearing in one ear from the aftereffects of his injuries. So even this close, he probably couldn't hear the commotion.
"It's absolutely not what you're thinking, ma'am."
"You said he'd get in the ring! And there's no way it just ends there, right? You think I've been fooled once or twice? Just go!"
It wasn't a situation where I could force my way in, so I was in a real bind.
Ha. Should I have just left this to John or Paul? Did I step in out of pure fan devotion for nothing?
"Theresa. It's okay."
"Mick!"
Then Mick Foley appeared from behind.
Whew. Heaven was on my side.
"Charina, right? I saw the match John sent me. For a young woman, you were incredible."
"Thank you, Teacher."
"Teacher? Hahaha! First time I've heard that title. Come in."
"Mick! This girl—no, this woman came to put you in the ring. That absolutely cannot happen."
Mick's wife grabbed his wrist and blocked the entrance, making it clear it was not happening.
"Theresa. I got John's call, and Paul's call. It's not like that. It's okay."
"If you look at this scenario, you'll be able to see that it's really not like that."
Theresa reluctantly took a step back, and I bowed my head in greeting and went inside.
The interior had zero traces of wrestling. Theresa had probably deliberately cleared them all away.
"I heard you like these, Teacher, so I bought some."
I held out the hot dog pack I'd bought.
"Hahaha! Hot dogs! How did you know I like that place?"
"I'm a real fan, Teacher."
"Charina. Why do you keep calling me Teacher?"
"If you saw Emergency, you'd know — I was a fan of you and Chris Jacob. I really wanted to be like you. So in my heart, you're my teacher."
Mick beamed at my words.
"Me being on the same level as Jacob…. Theresa. Should I be happy about this? Or should I get mad?"
"You should get mad. You're way cooler than Chris. Still adorable!"
"Right? Hehe. Come on. Sit down."
"Thank you."
As if she wouldn't treat me poorly now that I was inside, Theresa brought out juice and offered it.
"It's 100% orange juice. Is that okay?"
"Yes. I like it."
"Tsk tsk. A girl this pretty doing wrestling of all things."
"Theresa. This one plays as hardcore as I do."
"What?"
Theresa looked like she couldn't believe it.
"I'll show you the footage later. You'll probably be shocked."
"No way…"
Listening to their conversation, I opened the document bag and held out the scenario.
"This is the scenario for Law on Monday, the day after tomorrow."
Mick put on his reading glasses and read the scenario, and Theresa pressed right up beside him to read along. I sipped my juice and snuck glances at their reactions.
It wasn't a long scenario, so they finished quickly.
"Hmm. This is an honor…"
"It's an honor you're entitled to receive, Teacher."
"Theresa. This much is okay, right?"
Theresa didn't look at Mick — she looked at me.
"Charina, is this scenario really correct?"
"It is. If it were Victor McMahon, who knows? But Paul Levesque is absolutely not the kind of person who'd pull a scam with something like this. And I wouldn't forgive something like that either."
"Puhahaha. Right. Paul's not that kind of guy. Victor would turn red in the face if he heard that."
Mick laughed freely, and Theresa also smiled brightly, seeming pleased with my answer.
"But you're not getting anything out of this?"
"It's probably an experience no one in my generation has ever had — a place of honor no one else can claim. That's enough for me."
The couple looked pleased at my words.
"Theresa. Want to go to Law together for the first time in a while?"
"Yeah. Let's go together."
Watching the two of them dripping with sweetness, I stood up from my seat.
"Leaving already?"
"Yes. I have a companion in the car. And we've started a war, so there's a lot to prepare for one way or another."
"Hmm. That makes sense. Can't keep you any longer then."
I went outside, seeing the couple off. When we came out smiling, Ariana jumped out of the car.
"Hello? I'm Ariana Silva, a producer at TPA."
"Nice to meet you. Mick Foley."
"Theresa Foley."
"It's a real, real, real honor."
Ariana bowed so deeply her head nearly hit the ground — not very American of her.
"Heh. Feels like TPA, which I've never even been to, is treating me better than WWO."
"Hmm. More like you've got a face that works on young women."
"Hahaha."
Listening to their conversation, I spoke into Ariana's ear.
"Ms. Silva. Give him the plane tickets."
"Ah. So it went well. That's a relief."
Ariana immediately handed the envelope directly to Mick.
"Plane tickets to Charlotte for Monday morning. I heard a WWO staff member will meet you at the airport. The staff member's contact info is also written in the envelope."
"Thank you."
We talked a little more, then headed back to the airport.
"Charina. But did you really need to come? And on a plane ticket you paid for yourself?"
"I also wanted to meet him once as a fan. If I didn't see him now, I might never get another chance."
If I wasn't mistaken, Mick Foley no longer appeared on Law or Smash Down. He wasn't dead, but an opportunity to meet him quietly like this was probably only this once.
"For that, you came out pretty fast."
"I felt like I shouldn't be there between the two of them."
"True. In a wrestling world full of divorces, a couple that close is rare."
That evening, on Smash Down.
Dorothy and the Dudley Boyz — along with Heritage and the Inquisitors, selected through competition — were sitting conspicuously at ringside. Munching on nachos and popcorn, bantering away.
The Smash Down wrestlers looked quite conscious of them, not knowing when they might interfere. So the rhythm kept getting broken mid-match.
Eventually, a wrestler who couldn't take it anymore — Samuel Green — spoke up.
"You bastards! If you're gonna interfere, then do it! What the hell are you even doing?"
Then James and Alf stood up, held out their tickets, and sat back down.
In the brief moment Samuel hesitated, his opponent Simon Creek recovered and immediately reversed the match for the win. Samuel, who'd lost a match he'd already won, wasn't about to stay quiet — he stormed right up to the Dudley Boyz, jabbing his finger and pouring out curses.
"I lost because of you! You sons of bitches!"
Bibi, who'd been listening quietly, lightly snapped his fingers.
Then Alf leaped high from the audience seats and planted a dropkick square into Samuel's face.
-Thwack-
The crowd fell into momentary silence as Alf, who'd been sitting without any presence, showed incredible jumping ability and landed the dropkick.
Jake from Heritage climbed over the barricade and grabbed the mic.
"Hey! Samuel! We were just watching! What country's rules say you get to curse at people just for watching? Is that what Nikki Elders taught you?"
Since Heritage had been active in WWO under the name 'Glorious,' the crowd recognized Jake immediately. When he badmouthed the Smash Down general manager, the crowd roared.
- Nice one, Jake! -
- Nice! -
- Glorious! Glorious! -
- Tear him apart! -
This was Smash Down, but Samuel was a heel, and with Jake's long-awaited visit, the fan sentiment flowed in the opposite direction.
Buoyed by the cheers, Jake lightly slapped the cheeks of Samuel rolling on the floor.
Then a rough drum beat and theme music rang out. The crowd immediately responded with cheers.
Four wrestlers, including one female wrestler, appeared on the stage. They looked like they'd come to save Samuel, and they immediately ran toward the ring.
This time Debon raised one hand and waved it forward — like a signal to advance.
As if they'd been waiting for it, Heritage, Dorothy, and the Inquisitors went over the barricade.
A five-on-four matchup. In the middle, Samuel recovered briefly, making it five-on-five for a moment. But once again Alf's running dropkick landed clean on his face, and he went tumbling.
"Even if their main roster isn't out, this is far too one-sided."
"TPA's main roster isn't out either. Glorious — no, Heritage — are veterans in their own right, but the Inquisitors only debuted two months ago. Rookies at twenty-three and twenty-two. And then there's Carmen and Dorothy. Dorothy may be a veteran, but this is… like an adult fighting a child."
"Right. They'd been saying Carmen's form had peaked lately and she was ready to challenge for the Women's US Championship soon. But she's getting completely crushed by Dorothy."
"What are the rest of our Smash Down wrestlers doing? They're not even helping in a situation like this?"
While the commentators were reeling, Bibi and Debon had already come over the barricade and were setting up tables — whistling casually as they did it.
One, two, three — five tables in all.
Starting with Dorothy, they laid their respective opponents on the tables one by one. Then all of them climbed onto the apron and put on a spectacle of leaping off in a line.
-CRASH-
-CRASH-
-CRASH-
-CRASH-
-CRASH-
The five wrestlers on the tables took moonsaults, frog splashes, and more in succession and were knocked out cold.
"What in the world—!"
"Whoa. I've never even imagined a scene like this."
Faced with a domino-like table break no one had ever seen before, the crowd instead started chanting for TPA.
- TPA! TPA! TPA! -
Then Bibi Dudley grabbed the mic.
"Samuel, was it? You! This is our first meeting. From now on, don't go cursing at just anyone. You might end up dead."
When he delivered that funny mic work — so unlike the Bibi who lived with curses on his lips — the crowd chanted his name.
"Pfft! This bastard's popularity doesn't fade even with age. But we should go now. This is getting boring."
With that, the TPA wrestlers started cutting across the audience seats and exiting the arena. Even after they had completely disappeared, the crowd kept chanting "TPA" for a long while.