A hauntingly frigid, unwelcoming waiting room.

No windows. White walls. This space is contained from the outside world. Perhaps, it exists completely outside of it.

Fluorescent lights buzz above, volume whining and pitch disconcerting. The furniture is… angular. ‘Cushions’ hard as marble. There’s reading material on a coffee table, printed in a strange, unfamiliar language.

The cover? Businessmen smiling, shaking hands. A clearly staged photo-op.

This entire space feels wholly alien. Like an architect built a venus flytrap to look like an office.

Off, but close. *Just* close enough to keep you looking. Until its jaws close around you.

…You don’t remember how you got here.

“Miss Anderson.”

A mechanical voice creeps over the buzzing lights. The words echo in your head… You turn them over, again and again…

There’s a light fizz in that voice. It came from the rusted intercom, sitting atop the unoccupied front desk.

“He’ll see you now.”

Something… Some thing... compels you to stand. But, before you can move…

A door opens.

“Jessssssssssicaaaaaaaaaa… What a… pleasure.”

At once, you’re clutched by the arm… A firm claw encloses your hands.

”Please, sit. Let’s chat out here. I save my office for real talent.”

…

“Heeeeeeeeeeehehehehehehe…” A low, moaning rasp. An extended pained exhale. Like the sound of brakes screeching as a mother slams her foot, desperate to keep her 4-Door Sedan from heading off a cliffside to save her screaming children in the backseat.

Suddenly, you realize… Oh. That sound was a laugh.

One without a modicum of warmth, but a laugh.

It wasn’t clear before, but the fluorescent lights actually blind you. Whoever this man is, sitting before you, flipping through pages in a folder… His face is obscured…

Or… featureless. Like a simulacrum. Designed to imitate the human form, but without a trace of humanity.

“Let’s see… Jessica Anderson.”

…

“Oh. ‘THE’ Jessica Anderson.”

Another raspy chortle.

“I count myself lucky to be in the presence of...”

“THE… Jessica Anderson.”

Debuted April 21st, 2022.”

“Anarcy win-loss record of… 0-and-4.”

“Pay-Per-View record of… 0-and-1.”

“ZERO singles wins in her six-month tenure.”

“Typically, those who preface their name with ‘THE’ have accomplished… SOMETHING.”

“Like *gasp* Can you believe it? Walking down the street… That’s ‘THE’ Jessica Anderson!”

“For you, I imagine more of a… Oh God, don’t look. That’s ‘THE’ Jessica Anderson. Don’t look. Don’t make eye contact. Poor thing. She wants so much to wrestle. And she’s just so…”

…

“ME-DEE-OH-KUR.”

“Regular.”

“Dime. A. Dozen.”

“Let’s get honest, Jess. You’re not employed because you’re bubbling with potential and room for growth.”

“You’re twenty-eight years old… And even your roster page makes it clear. Whatever spark you once had…? What electricity you once drew from a live crowd?”

Quote:Weaknesses: Just doesn't possess the same ability that she used to have

“It’s dead.”

“Your battery *might* still hold juice. But your alternator’s busted. That feeling of doing what you love in front of a sold-out arena? It doesn’t fuel you, Jess. Not one bit.”

“That draw that makes the STELLAR shine like the fucking HUMAN GOLD that they are? The human connection between athlete and customer, that parasocial relationship between millions of mouth-breathing Randos and one special person? THE FUCKING PRODUCT WE SELL?”

“You.”

“Don’t.”

“Have.”

“It.”

“And you’re not looking to find it.”

“28 and already past your prime.”

“You’d be a has-been, if you ever had it in the first place.”

“Instead of pushing yourself to new heights… You’ve settled. Found a comfortable niche on Madness, the D-Show. Hidden behind ‘Spoiled’ Summer Page. Picking up scrap wins as the backup in a middle-of-the-road Tag-Team on the bottom brand.”

“You’re just happy to be here, collecting a paycheck, right? It’s this or walk around Wal-Marts, praying for a spill you can slip on. A lawsuit. Then, your talentless ass could leech off a company that GIVES PEOPLE SOMETHING?!?”

…

“Well. Sometimes, even the undeserving. The wretched. THE WORTHLESS.”

“Can be… melted down. Into raw material. And forged into history.”

“Willingly or otherwise.”

“See, I looked at your schedule. A match against Erik Holland. Another rookie, using you like a stepping stool.”

“...Do you get tired of this life, Jessica? Of being a step?”

“Well, I have A FANTASTIC ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME OFFER.”

“How would you like to be immortalized?”

“Made famous?”

“CHISELED INTO LEGEND FOREVER.”

…

“See, Jess. I’m a Success Story.”

“Trademark.”

“I’m successful. You’re not.”

“I’m.”

“BETTER.”

“Than you.”

“And, if I hadn’t been imbued with inherent greatness, I could leave you to your permanent and irrevocable fate as a NOTHING.”

“But, I’m… generous.”

“And in my generosity, I’ll bestow a gift.”

…

“Actually, I don’t give gifts. Let’s call it a FREE TRIAL.”

“A sample to getcha hooked on the product.”

“I was once like you.”

“Well, I was never a hopeless 28-year old scrub with the knees of a geriatric war vet.”

“But, I know what’s it like to be lacking success.”

“And in my hardship. In my pain. In my rejection. I dug deeper. I pushed harder, fueling my climb to the fucking mountaintop.”

“That’s what I’m bringing you at Anarchy, Jessica.”

“A heaping helping of humiliation.”

“Hardship.”

When did the room get so… hot? You’re burning up… Your head is swimming.

“The knowledge that I could crush you like an Egyptian Pharoah squeezing goddamned grape on his tongue.”

You try to push yourself up. To stand. To freedom.

“And in that loss. In that humiliation. In that despair in your impending doom.”

But you’re… exhausted. Your body sinks into the chair.

“You *might* find the will to grow.”

“To push beyond your limits.”

With the last of your will, you wrench against the couch’s arms…

“In your failure, you’ll find the drive…”

…BUt, your arms meld into the material. The fabric consumes you.

Soon, you don’t know where you begin… And the office ends.

You’re… Nothing.

“To take your first step…”

“On the Optimal Path.”

…

“Or you’ll die. And fade back to nothing.”

“Let’s evaluate. What ‘THE’ Jessica Anderson’s made of.”