They were unique in that regard. Most wrestling fans would take a match between two unknowns as their chance to either take a piss or hit the concession stands. After all, who would want to see two no-names, fresh off the boat, going at it when they would rather be watching someone, anyone, higher up on the card?
The LAW crowd, that was who. They loved these special little affairs, viewing them like a lottery of sorts. You never quite knew who would be coming out to the ring, what sort of skills they would bring. Maybe a topnotch technical thriller, maybe a hardcore throwdown, maybe a kink-filled hentai match? Anything was on the table. Even if they were completely inexperienced, there was always something funny in watching a clusterfuck of a match.
They came for a spectacle. This was Eduardo’s kind of crowd, and he had no intentions on letting them down.
Japan, show me what you’ve got.
L’Via by the Mars Volta
They were the ones going home disappointed. Eduardo hadn't traveled halfway around the damn globe to get his ass whipped by some chicks in spandex and leather. He could’ve paid for that back home if it was all he’d wanted.
He’d spoil that fun soon enough. For now, he just made his way down to the ring, slid in under the bottom rope and made his way across the ring with prideful stride and a long smirk, giving the referee a quick pat on the shoulder as he passed. When he got to his corner, El Blaze leaped up, kicked his legs out, and laid on top of the ropes like they were his own, personal hammock, even crossing his fingers behind his head to complete the image.
It’d be a minute or so until whoever he was fighting got here, right? Might as well get some rest.