“W-What… I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Maria replied. “Excuses are your life-long folly, it seems. Stand up, that’s an order.”
Maria complied, collapsing each chair and putting them neatly against the wall, then lugged her feet back to Adelaide’s front, who read from her clipboard, the point of her pen striking her silk cheek. “Maria… You’re slotted to make a statement on your behalf.”
She propped the clipboard beneath her armpit, “I will be accompanying you as your mouthpiece. Consider me your Guardian Angel, now let’s go, we’re on right now….” Maria lifted a finger as Adelaide turned around, “Uhhhhh…. Yeah, ok. Go, team…”
Nightwish theme time
The team emerged long after this lull of music and aggravating awkward wait as Maria Reinhardt finally emerged onto the stage. She was engrossed in a slow walk; her eyes lined up towards the overhead lights as she dragged down the ramp. Adelaide often passed her, then waited with a small smile. Small shouts rained down, if not for Maria’s heel status, then the utter disregard of their patience, fed up and ready to punch her themselves! Maria came to the ring steps, dragging her feet on each one until she stopped, cupped her ear and grinned. Another haze of noise fizzled down but some whistles too as the front-row crowd could gander at her skin-tight bodysuit leather. A red scarf cloaked her pleasured face, now slowly unravelled and dropped as she lumbered her way onto the ring-apron and yawned into her hand. Her shoulders leaned over the third rope, and she gave the crowd a mock salute before she kicked up, flipping back into the ring, though her hips fell to one side and she more-so tumbled in, saved only by her arms that hooked the ropes and allowed her boots to scamper beneath her. She laughed it off, stood up and took three steps forward to join Adelaide, who had long been waiting with a microphone in hand.
Adelaide
Maria
She stood firm, feet shoulder-width as she shouted. Her head tipped up towards the lights, and she planted a hand on Maria’s shoulder.
〝See, it has always been Reinhardt’s destiny always to know best. We’ve made that our motto, lived it and now enjoy its fruits off the backs of you. Your hard hours, penny-pinching and unpaid overtime are what make us tick, so we can fly in private jets, dine on yachts and fulfill our every desire in a snap of our fingers. You people make your misery, and it is us who watches. And I know that must be tough to hear it so bluntly. We're all raised by our dear parents who tell you that you're all special, only to learn that you're just mediocre. And because we're on this side of the barricade, it only proves that we’re better than you. Smarter. Stronger. You see, it isn’t exploitation that you all think it is, no, we’re just…〞
Her hand lifted, and she turned to face Maria, who stood with crossed arms.
〝Prized fighters. We are champions. We play the game better than anyone else can, and that is why we win. That is why the Reinhardt family crown jewel has come to bless us tonight - because there is no better prizefighter than the one beside me, as a former M.M.A fighter, someone who’s academically flawless and an angelic philanthropist. She who makes more money in a single breath than any of you make in a year… Please, let me introduce you to the heir of Reinhardt MNC and the first prospect from Reinhardt Wrestling Academy. My niece….Scaaaaaaarlaheart!….〞
She arched back to shout the last word, only to straighten out and hand the microphone to Maria, who accepted, and Adelaide went back to fixing her suit.
〝Uhhh…. Adelaide, are you sure this shabby microphone has been cleaned? I don’t want to touch germs from some working-class snob at ringside paid minimum wage. Do you even know where they’ve been… ugh. Like, really, do they even clean these mats before you or I walked in? And I’m pretty sure there was no red-carpet or entourage when we came down. It’s such a scam and unbelievably cheap. Hell, this whole company is cheap, with cheap people filling its seats. Do you really expect any wrestler back there to be anything more than cheap? If I’m a prizefighter, then I’d have more challenges punching babies than wrestling any loser in the back. Because money talks, it proves I’m a winner and can’t be beaten… because—〞