For the ratings. The buzz. Anticipation. From a wrestling promoter perspective, holding your cards close was good for business to blow the lid off the place. But if you could create discussion in the modern ways of the internet without confirmation, then ticket sales can boom, watches go up and so do streams. Let their own speculation draw them in. Eyes, eyes, eyes.
When you spend close to two years away from the industry with burned bridges, the discussion wasn’t taken seriously anymore. Karla Ray Reinhardt was on-top of the world, having acted in two movies, appeared in national news networks and advertisements. She was on billboards. Why WOULD she come back?
Ut-tut-tut…
Maybe that’s the wrong question. Why would we WANT her back? Is probably at the core of their wants. As one of LAW’s most habitual cheaters, having ditched to ascend ‘higher planes’ and trashing the sport for years ever since. Karla wasn’t a professional wrestler in their eyes, but a bitch who pretended to be. LAW doesn’t need another problem child.
She knew of their bitterness. It just didn’t matter. There will always be those who like their black coffee.
And they were about to get a sip…
Music!
Is this real?
Fuck.
Unfortunately, yes. Karla Ray Reinhardt emerged onto the stage for the first time in a long time. The one who retired Killer King. The one who could only dominate the two divisions she participated in. The one who has given many their first taste of defeat. A hope squasher. A spotlight hogger. Miss Main Event.
Spotlights gave her a reception like they never forgot her. Three centred on her, then created a path down on the rampway for her to traverse. There were some cheers, yes; but shock was the winning emotion of the masses.
She strode down that ramp with her arms spread and then walked up those steps, then into the ring. Her attire for the evening was a black coat and white pants. A scarf around her neck tucked into her coat. Her hair had grown out to something familiar to her early run.
Attire Reference
“I know you missed me, Hundchens.” Karla smiled warmly and looked around. The crowd murmured.
“To say I missed you too would be… Like saying I miss an overweight ex.”
She visibly tightened with a small shiver as she visualized it. For the crowd, it was almost like an expected sentiment.
“But I am here. And in what capacity I am here is..." She checked her nails, then finished. "Lets just say it suits my very... very busy schedule.” Her neck rolled as she began to pace. She adjusted her scarf.
“I’m not here because I had some rekindled love for the people here or anyone in the back. I am not interested in your run backs, rehashing old beef or being a vassal for your dream matches. I am here because LAW begged me to show up and save their show by writing a fat cheque. So if you think booing me like before is going to send a message, let me just say: the piper is already paid.”
She took the centre-ring, smug, then took her time adjusting her wrists as the audience soaked up her last line.
“What that means is very simple. You and I are going to have a mutual understanding that I am here for business, and the business already got onto its knees and begged for me. That makes me the Showrunner, the Showsaviour and the Main Event Curator. That's K double R because I get twice the ratings than your favourite.”
She rolled her shoulders individually as she fed off her own hype like some kinda helium.
“But make no mistake. This won’t be like before. I know what I am worth and I know what’s beneath me. That includes pettiness. So for anyone new or old in the back that I may sooner meet, I’ll make this clear for you too. You will respect what I’m doing, who I am and what I’ve done. I have no time for Hundchens trying to nip my heels because they can't cope seeing their ceiling.”
She smirked as her eye made a twitch, then she made a gesture with her hand, as if to make an addendum. “Lets be civil...”
Then she nodded firmly.
“So after all this time, it’s wonderful to finally be back in the division I started in. The Lightweight Division. Yes, it’s a step down in terms of weight class, but everyone already knows my talents have no size limit.”
Karla left it at that.
She let the mic-holding arm go limp at her side as her music played a second time. She exited the ring without much to address or showboat. God would simply soak in her return praises, shocked faces and the scowls of the disbelievers. All of them existed on the other side of a TV screen, in person or not.