>>18469279After a brutal hour and a half of drills, Carmody Jefferson is gasping in pain and gasping for breath, as fire screams through her muscle fibers. She tries to stand, but her overcooked spaghetti legs are having none of it, so she looks up at her sparring partners from a seated position.
>"H-Had enough yet?"The dojo coach on duty snorts and blows a whistle.
"MISS JEFFERSON," he booms. "You have POTENTIAL, I'll say that much. Your athletic instincts and impressive physical conditioning are actually sufficient to take small, incremental steps towards completely masking your COMPLETE LACK OF ANY PRIOR WRESTLING EXPERIENCE."
A surge of anger is sufficient to motivate Carmody to stand.
>"Hey! I spent nearly three months in Brooke Phillips's MMA Dojo back in--""And I wrestle around with my golden retriever in the back yard," the coach shouts, "and push him over on his back to give him belly rubs and chin scratches, which has ENTIRELY as much to do with PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING as the NONSENSE that you just--"
An aide comes in from the side. "Um, coach? We got a call from Talent Relations. You're gonna have to take this one."
The coach nods and takes the phone. His face grows ashen as he mumbles along with what the person on the other end is saying, and when he hangs up, he looks at Carmody with a grave expression.
"All right, girl, get outta here," the coach says. "I've seen what I need to."
Carmody feels a flash of annoyance at getting such an abrupt brush-off.
>"What's that supposed to mean? What about my potential? Am I not even worth any more of your time?"The coach turns to her with a hard stare. "Miss Jefferson, two of your fellow wrestlers are DEAD. There'll be no further training today."
Carmody blinks, then shivers. An uneasy feeling of dread rises in her belly.
