“I can tell you absolutely nothing about Hollywood Jack.  I don’t know who he is or where he came from.  I asked Conarri for his application tape, he says he lent it to ESEN and never got it back.  You’re gonna be going into this match completely in the dark.”

Kai Scott didn’t sound troubled in the slightest about this, but Claira St. Sure was uneasy.

“So then how do I get ready?”

Kai smiled.  “Let me explain a little pro wrestling history to you.  Back in the old days, the 80s, half the guys on any roster were career losers who existed to make the drawing wrestlers look good.  It’s even rumored that some of the matches back then were… fake.”

“Fake pro wrestling?  Ugh.”  Claira was disapproving.

“Yes.  Well.  The whole point is that even the top ranked wrestlers can’t always go out to have a hard fought match.  Sometimes they have a match against someone who exists entirely for them to beat up and look awesome doing it.  You’ll go out there, you’ll twist his arms all out of joint and try to land at least one kick on every square inch of his body, and when the fans are just starting to get tired of you showing off, then you end it.  I don’t care if you use the rear choke, the Truly Untouchabreaker, the Busaiku Knee, or if you take one out of Heidi’s playbook and just tap him out with a random hold.”

“Your job is to look awesome.”

“Almost needless to say, if Hollywood Jack actually shows up, that will indicate he’s a serious opponent.  But unless that happens, and I do not think it will… just look awesome.”

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