Gorilla Position, Part 2
The wrestlers who'd finished the third match filed back into Gorilla Position.
The moment Paul laid eyes on Conleth's face, something boiled up inside him — but he didn't say a word. This wasn't the place for it, and if he simply refused to book him later, that would be enough.
He didn't hold back the praise for Camelot and Miguel, though.
"That was an unplanned hot tag, and you two worked it perfectly. Great job, both of you."
"Thank you."
And the real MVP — Mitsu?
No long speech needed for him. Paul just looked his way and gave him a thumbs-up. Mitsu got the message, grinned, and nodded. That was all.
"Good work, everyone. Head back and get some rest."
With that, he cleared them out and turned his eyes to the stage.
Charina was out there on a skateboard, rolling left and right across the stage. Every so often she'd cup one hand to her ear the way the late Berserker Hogan used to — and every time she did, the crowd's roar detonated.
"Showmanship like that is pure talent."
"Man! Give her a little extra time and she comes up with that. That kid's sharp."
"Right? How do you invent a bit like that in a few minutes?"
"She was probably already thinking about it."
Even without Paul, Bron, Louis, and Len were all pure praise.
"Does Charina look even prettier than usual today? Maybe it's the bikini gear, but I couldn't take my eyes off her."
"Same. Ha! Looks alone, she's already the G.O.A.T."
"I thought so too. She's barely wearing any makeup, and she still just… glows."
"Tch. Men. Even at sixty…"
Stacey cut in after listening to them.
"Stacey! If we're like this, the twenty- and thirty-somethings out there must be losing their minds. Look at the crowd. Those kids are gone. They're not even chanting her name."
At Bron's words, they checked the monitors. Every camera angle on the audience told the same story — eyes wide, mouths hanging open, more than a few people literally drooling. No wonder "Charina! Hoorah!" never got off the ground.
"Paul. I hear she only wears the bikini gear for big matches. Isn't that a little too calculated?"
Paul shook his head at Stacey's comment.
"If you're going to claim what's yours, you need that kind of cunning. Scarcity matters, too… And she's still young. No need to lean on the exposure this early. Play the long game. The long game…"
By then Charina had reached the ring. She stood with her back to the ropes, hands gripping them behind her.
"Pull the shot in tighter. When she falls back, I want more of the upper body."
"Got it."
Len fired the instruction over the radio to the camera crew.
"Tighter. More…"
Charina flipped backward over the ropes and into the ring. Plenty of people would rewind that entrance dozens of times. Of course, no matter how many times they rewound it, they wouldn't see what they were hoping for…
Jane muttered, "That's a little too on the nose," but this business had always been like that. Nobody had ordered her to do it. If Charina had hated those stares, she wouldn't have worn that gear or entered the ring that way.
She worked the corners, greeting the crowd, then stretched out lengthwise along the top rope.
"The strength is one thing, but that never stops being wild to watch."
"Right? Her balance is unreal."
"Stacey — Korea has a traditional tightrope act that looks just like that. Charina probably borrowed it from there."
Jane cut into Paul and Stacey's exchange with the explanation.
"Is that so? She's done her homework. Having a kid like that this serious about wrestling is a real gift."
"Then we don't have to worry about her bolting for Hollywood anytime soon."
Paul followed Stacey's line with one of his own.
"Not a chance. She's dead serious about wrestling — and she wants to be the first woman to become an Icon."
At Jane's word — Icon — every head in Gorilla Position turned toward her.
Since Jack Cena's retirement, there had been legends. But no one who could truly be called an Icon. And a woman as an Icon… Not a single one, ever. Possibility aside, it was an almost impossible road.
Charlotte's theme hit, and the brief silence broke.
"We'll talk about that later. Focus on the match."
Charlotte stepped out in a dazzling robe, spun once, and started down the ramp.
—Boo! Boo!—
She'd been working as a face lately, and not long ago the same crowd had cheered her — now the boos poured down. It was a complete reversal from the first three matches, where Smash Down's wrestlers had drawn cheers regardless of heel or face.
"Charina's this popular? She's completely insane."
"At least it's Charlotte. She didn't flinch at the heat."
"Did Charina say she wanted to work as a tweener? Honestly, putting her as a full face might be better…"
"Agreed. As a face, she'd move an absurd amount of merch."
Charlotte climbed the steel steps and entered the ring. Charina didn't so much as twitch. Lying there on the ropes, staring down at her with pure arrogance, she looked like she believed she was the star of the show. Or maybe it was the kayfabe — Charlotte's nickname was "Queen," but Charina was the Empress.
The moment Charlotte hit the ring, she closed the distance without hesitation. Only then did Charina drop down from the ropes. They stepped in until there was barely a meter between them.
—You arrogant little—
—Someone like me is allowed to be arrogant, don't you think?—
Their ring segment kicked off.
—I! Am going to! Completely! Destroy you! Right here! Tonight! So you never pull that attitude again!—
—Pfft. You got the ability for that? Charlotte! Seems like you've been losing more than you've been winning lately.—
—Wh… What did you just say?—
—Try a little harder. Keep this up and you'll be retiring any day now. You goat.—
—You bitch!—
Charlotte shoved Charina on the spot, and the referee immediately gave the signal to start.
—Ding ding ding—
No introductions. The ring bell rang, and the fourth match was underway.
"Nice. Though I've got to hand it to Charlotte for eating that line."
"They built chemistry working together in practice. Excellent. The promo was sharp."
Only Aaron, the producer, had any sense of how the match would unfold — and that was just from camera-work notes. The only people who'd actually seen the rehearsal were John, Jane, and Alicia, and even that had been at Charina's house. All three had raved about it. Everyone else knew nothing beyond the finish and that it would be a squash. Which was exactly why they were looking forward to this one more than anything else.
And the war of words before the bell only inflated that anticipation further.
Charlotte sent Charina into the ropes, then immediately hiked her right leg high. Charina ducked left as if she'd known the Big Boot was coming, then used the opening to counter — scooping Charlotte up in a princess carry and falling backward, hurling her away.
—Thud—
"Clean Fallaway Slam."
"Haven't seen that one in a while. These days most people turn that position into a backbreaker off the knee."
"Right. Less pure power that way."
Having seized the early advantage, Charina circled behind Charlotte and waited for her to rise. The moment she did, Charina charged, grabbed a fistful of hair, ran a few steps, and sat down hard. A bulldog.
"Pfft. Is this an eighties match?"
"It's not bad. Moves like that used to be finishers. How did they even set the skill list up like this?"
"Those two pulled inspiration from old matches and wrote the whole scenario around it."
John grinned as he filled Paul in.
"I'm not complaining. It's fresh, actually. And look at the crowd — the older guys are loving it. Please tell me we're not getting a Gorilla Press next."
"Sorry. No Gorilla Press."
Charina went straight for the cover, but Charlotte shoved her off at the two-count. Charina seized her hair again and drove her into a corner. Charlotte didn't try anything fancy like a Flair Flip — her back just slammed into the turnbuckle. Charina climbed the middle rope and started hammering fists into Charlotte's head. After a string of them, the referee warned her; Charina turned on him as if to demand what the problem was — and in that opening, Charlotte recovered.
She hoisted Charina from the front and drove her into the mat like a powerbomb.
—Thud—
—Aaaagh!—
As Charina tried to rise, Charlotte hit her with her signature lariat. The impact sent Charina tumbling a full revolution before she sprawled out flat.
—Oh!—
Charlotte immediately went for the Figure-Four Leglock. The moment she grabbed Charina's ankle and started to turn, Charina shoved her off with her free foot and hips.
"The flow shifts so smoothly. This is a good match."
The others nodded at Paul's assessment.
"Paul! This match hasn't even started yet."
"I know, John. Even so, what we've seen so far is already a three. They're working well."
Charina got up first and charged, but Charlotte planted and hit a dropkick to retake the turn. She drove her head between Charina's thighs from the front, lifted, locked both of Charina's knees, and slammed her down hard.
—Thuuud—
"Charina's so light Charlotte can hit that Alabama Slam like it's nothing."
"From what I saw in practice, Alicia can manage an Angle Slam at least. She was saying she wants to build a little more strength so she can hit a powerbomb. I nearly died laughing."
"Alicia's powerbomb… Yeah, that would be something."
Charlotte caught her breath, scanned the crowd, then pulled Charina up. Charina kicked her in the gut, spun behind her, locked the neck, and sat down.
—Whoa! Whoa!—
—Charina! Charina!—
She grabbed Charlotte's arm, hauled her up, and drove her into the corner again — this time chest-first into the turnbuckle. Charlotte staggered and draped herself over the top rope beside her.
Grinning, Charina closed in. Then, without warning, she smacked Charlotte across the backside with an open palm.
—Oh!—
—Hahaha!—
Gasps and laughter erupted from the crowd at the sudden provocation. Charlotte glared at her, seething.
"Insane! Charlotte actually agreed to that?"
"She must have, or it wouldn't be happening."
If there was an unspoken rule among women wrestlers in the ring, it was this: you don't slap your opponent's ass as a taunt. The act itself carried the weight of sexual harassment. And a rookie — Charina — had just done it to a legend-level talent like Charlotte.
Face flushed, Charlotte charged. Charina caught one arm and smoothly dumped her to the side — a scoop slam so clean it looked like something out of Sandy Orton's playbook.
Turn flipped again. Charina climbed the ropes for a Lionsault — and Charlotte rolled out of the ring.
"This is the pivot point, right?"
"Yeah. Exactly seven minutes. Her timing is surgical."
"Rumor is she counts from the opening bell and tracks the clock the whole way. Is that true?"
"It is. Hard to believe, but it's true. Jane even ran an experiment on it."
Paul looked at Jane; Jane nodded.
"Promo, work rate, skill, looks, popularity… You literally can't not push this."
John picked up Paul's half-muttered thought.
"She's a complete cheat code. Like the god of pro wrestling dumped every blessing into one person."
"Exactly. 'Cheat code' is the only word for it. God's unfair — packing every talent a wrestler needs into a single body."
The others nodded along with Paul and John.
Charina slipped out of the ring, came up behind Charlotte, grabbed her hair, and tried to drive her face into the ring post. Charlotte caught both of Charina's hands, held on — then reversed it and smashed Charina's face into the steel instead.
—Claaang—
—Aagh!—
The sound was almost too loud to believe a human face had just met a metal post. Horror rippled through the crowd.
—Aaaagh!—
—No!—
Reeling from the impact, Charina clutched her face with both hands and writhed on the floor in agony.