The Popcorn Effect
As I sat there in the Gorilla Position, Paulo Hackman walked in.
"How is it? Worth watching?"
I sprang up from my chair and gave a slight bow in greeting.
"I don't really get what's going on yet, but I'm trying to take it all in. Are you feeling okay?"
Paulo smiled and nodded.
"I'm fine. That was a clean choke slam. Charlotte's praise was well-deserved."
"Your reception was great too. It's not easy to relax and just go with it."
"I've got forty years of experience. That's basic. Hahaha!"
Paulo seemed in high spirits as he laughed heartily before speaking again.
"So, are you starting to understand the show?"
"I'm just trying to follow the flow, soak it in with my eyes."
"Good. That's enough. Just having seen this is important. Plenty of guys with over ten years under their belts have never sat here. This is a massive privilege."
"Yes. That's what Director Overdia told me."
Paulo checked his watch once and got to the point.
"Do you really not need a manager? No matter which brand you go to, I'll make you champion within six months."
"It's not that I'm in a hurry to become champion. For now, I want to build experience by wrestling a lot of different opponents."
"I can't tell if you're smart or foolish. Tsk tsk."
I knew he didn't mean it maliciously, but it still didn't sit well with me. This guy was latching onto me because he didn't have a new face to push right now. Having a talent to develop was how he stayed relevant himself. If I didn't put a stop to this here and now, this fatso would keep hounding me.
"I know you're a former CEW director with incredible abilities, Mr. Hackman."
At my words, Hackman smiled and nodded. Unbeknownst to him, others were also sneaking glances and eavesdropping.
"But while you've made several S-ranks, you've never made anything beyond that, have you? Naturally, never an Icon or anyone close to one."
"What did you say?"
"The ones you raised—Bron Lesnar, Roman Reigns, Jess Rolex—were monsters enough, but I'm aiming higher. Jack Cena, Iron Cold, Berserker Dagan types…"
Hackman's face flushed red, his jowls quivering.
"Crazy! Do you even know what you're saying?"
"Of course. My dream isn't about how many times I become champion, so I don't need your help. Maybe if it were Paul Levesque or Stacey McMahon…"
"Hahaha!"
I turned at the loud laugh to find Paul.
"Hackman! You lost. That kid's dream is on a different scale. She's the first woman aiming to become an Icon!"
"I'm only saying this because it'd be a waste. I want to see her on a bigger stage sooner!"
"This kid has the ability to reach the big stage on her own. Even without me or Stacey helping… You felt it too, didn't you?"
"Hmph!"
Paulo Hackman snorted and left the Gorilla Position.
"You've got some real backbone. Not easy to talk back to Hackman like that."
"Compared to thumbtacks, it's nothing."
"True. Sandy Orton said the same thing back then. After his hardcore match with Mick Foley, nothing in the world scared him anymore."
"Is Mr. Orton's back injury okay?"
Sandy Orton had been on hiatus since last summer after WWO Summer Clash due to a chronic back injury.
"He'll be back by WrestleMaster at the latest. He said he wants to meet you once, too."
"Ah, yes. I'd love to meet him as well."
With that, Paul went back into the meeting with John and Jane. A little later, Paul grabbed an A4 sheet and dashed off somewhere.
"Bored?"
"No. It was fascinating to watch."
With Paul gone, Jane seemed freer and came over to sit in her seat.
"You're popular, you know."
"Huh?"
"Yesterday the Law kids came looking for me, each wanting a match with you on The Live."
"Charlotte probably hyped me up a bit too much."
Jane tapped my shoulder.
"No need for that kind of humility between us."
"…"
"So, who are you most interested in? Who do you want to face on The Live?"
"I get to choose my opponent?"
"Paul said to let you pick."
This was another massive privilege.
"Anyone?"
"Obviously not the champions. Lisa Rayple and Vicky Lynch are off-limits."
With that, Jane showed me a document. It was the Law women's roster. If I had a choice, it was obviously this person. A type of wrestler I'd never faced before. I pointed at the name with my fingertip.
"Excellent choice. If you couldn't decide, I was going to book it this way myself. Easy to build a story around."
"A story? There's a story this time?"
"Of course. The Halloween Battle was too rushed and all over the place, but The Live has a story. It'll be completely different from last time. You'll have matches almost every week."
While I was talking with Jane, the eighth match kicked off. Since Paul had gone over himself, the wrestlers didn't even come into the Gorilla Position. Law's side was CM Metal, Gunser, and Troy McIntyre, while NEXT had Obama Femi, Javon Evans, and Joshua, who'd lost his belt to Ahmed. Law had a bit more size, but NEXT wasn't to be underestimated either. With the powerhouse Obama Femi, once called "The Dominator," and Javon Evans with his incredible aerial moves, it was a combination that held its own. And a much younger one at that. If it hadn't been a brawl-fest, it would have been thrilling to watch, which was a bit of a shame. Plus the ref was Iron Cold… No, I was also disappointed I couldn't join the run-in.
First, four NEXT wrestlers ran out and stood at ringside. Seeing that, CM Metal pointed and yelled in anger. The NEXT wrestlers just dug in their ears and laughed. I watched leisurely with my arms crossed, but things got busier here.
"Get ready to switch to camera 5. Camera 6, keep zoomed in on Iron Cold's face only."
I kept staring at the monitors as I listened to the PD. Iron Cold scowled as he stood in the center of the ring, trying to hold CM Metal back. But Javon Evans stepped forward and taunted even more. When CM Metal tried to slap Javon's cheek, Iron Cold grabbed CM Metal's wrist.
"Hey! The ring bell hasn't rung yet."
"Then hit the damn bell already!"
Iron Cold released CM Metal's wrist and looked around.
"Everyone out of my ring except the first one to step up."
At his words, Law's Troy McIntyre and Gunser first headed to the corner. On NEXT's side, only Javon Evans remained as Obama Femi and Joshua seemed to back off. Then, Obama, who had crouched as if to leave, sprang like a cheetah and charged in. Obama's spear buried itself cleanly into CM Metal's midsection.
— Thud —
At that moment, as if waiting for it, the four NEXT wrestlers at ringside attacked Gunser and Troy who had retreated to the ring corners.
"Hey! You! You wanna die?"
Iron Cold approached Obama. Somehow Javon Evans had already run, used the rope rebound, and launched a running dropkick at Iron Cold. A premium dropkick of incredible height, befitting Javon Evans, called the male version of "Aerial Genius." When even Iron Cold went sprawling from one shot, the crowd erupted in shock. With things like this, all of Law's wrestlers ran out. Then NEXT's and TPA's wrestlers poured out too, and Smash Down's side as well. With about twenty wrestlers per brand pouring out, a fight broke out everywhere—on the ring, under the ring, the ramp, the stage.
"Camera 2, show the judges' seats."
At the PD's words, the camera that had been on the crowd swung to the judges' seats, where the judges wore angry expressions.
"I'll be right back."
John Michaels took off his headset and stood up.
"You're going out, Mr. Michaels?"
"You think just anyone can clean up a mess like this? The legends all have to step in."
"The legends? The judges too?"
"Of course. How are Paul and I supposed to handle all of it alone? Tsk. This whole thing happened because someone spun the popcorn and drew the aggro. If anyone brings popcorn into the arena one more time!"
"Huh?"
John didn't even reply to me as he loosened his ankles and waist, then adjusted his cowboy hat.
"John! Ready?"
Paul poked his head in holding a sledgehammer.
"Ready. Let's go."
Watching them leave, I looked at the monitors to see the judges also rising from their seats and heading toward the ring. Mick Foley was already smiling, steel chair in hand from somewhere. On the stage, John was cleaning them up one by one with a Sweet Chin Music, Paul with his sledgehammer, and Metal McCool, who'd joined at some point, was beating wrestlers with a chair as they advanced. Wrestlers from the four brands dropped one after another with "one-shot, one-kill" efficiency. On the other side were the judges who had already come down to ringside. Mick Foley hit a chair shot to Olivia's back as he crossed the barricade, then RBD and Karish climbed the barricade as if rehearsed and covered wrestlers with jumping splashes.
— Wow —
— Triple J —
— Jack Cena! Jack Cena! —
— RBD! RBD! —
As the three cleared a path, the Deadman grabbed two necks in both hands for a double choke slam, and Jack Cena snatched someone aiming for the Deadman's back and planted an "A.A." When Mick Foley and Carter Angle climbed into the ring, Iron Cold seemed to come to his senses and joined the cleanup. Every time a Stunner connected in succession, the crowd's cheers grew louder and louder. Looking at the crowd on another camera, not a single person was sitting. Everyone was screaming themselves hoarse, veins bulging, calling out for the wrestlers they loved.
Sigh. This is a free-for-all. Quest success is completely out the window. Done for.
Probably the ones who got the most "Chicago Crowd" over these two days would be the legends. With the legends' run-in, in less than fifteen minutes nearly eighty wrestlers were all sprawled on the floor. Just ten people had subdued about eighty. The fans knew this was an absurd situation, but nostalgia seemed to hit, and their heat didn't cool at all. Once the situation was cleaned up, all the legends climbed into the ring. Paul Levesque grabbed the microphone!
At his words, Bogus looked sheepish as he rubbed his bald head.
The NEXT wrestlers shook their heads.
Paul passed the mic to John.
John looked over the scattered wrestlers as he spoke.
John handed the mic to head judge Carter Angle and stepped back.
With Carter Angle's words, the judges left the ring one after another. The show had ended in a strangely half-assed way, but not a single person in the crowd seemed to be booing.