Oishi Catering Services, Day One

The arena? Unparalleled. The gym? Top-notch. Medical facilities? World class. The cafeteria?

Not so much.

The AFW spared no expense in securing the absolute best for its athletes, meeting, exceeding, even anticipating every need. Yet, somehow, the product served by its cafeterias did not quite meet the stellar standard the rest of the AFW ancillary services set. Or, to put it simply: it was slop.

Then again, the food offered at the Tension arena never really had to be all that good. Tension only had a show once a week, and it was always in the evenings, so most of the talent came to tapings having already eaten- or not, depending on each wrestler’s personal philosophy on food before fights. Besides, the gym had its own snack bar, with a menu chock full of health foods and juices.  As a result, the primary patrons of Tension’s cafeterias were Tension’s numerous staff and crew members. And who gave a fuck about them?

Well, plenty of people, as it turned out. They themselves, for one, cared deeply about the quality of food that they consumed. They didn’t need the same level of health care as the fighters, they didn’t mind that there wasn’t a dedicated staff parking lot, they’d long accepted that cubicles were just a fact of life. But goddammit, they deserved better than reheated hot dogs, burgers, or pizza for lunch. It’s a matter of human dignity!

Helen Chen in PR- ambitious, no-nonsense, go-getting- spun the fragmented dissatisfaction of her coworkers into a full-on campaign, complete with a website, flyers on every corkboard- and a petition, one that made its way through every active inbox on both the staff and wrestler mailing lists.

When it came to her attention, Amy signed the petition without a second thought- why not? It could only be good for her- as did hundreds of others. Once Helen felt that it carried enough weight, she sent the signatures up the ladder. But, by then, the buzz of hope for edible meals had reached critical levels. Enough to merit executive attention. Enough to compel executive response.

That was months ago. And, while on the surface it seemed that nothing had changed, behind the scenes, gears were slowly turning- portfolios reviewed, taste tests conducted, prices compared and negotiated- until, one day, an email blast announced that the contract for the employee cafeterias had been won by a small, independent caterer, and that the new service would start at the beginning of next week. It also went on to say how much management cared- had always cared- about the well-being of its employees, both primary and auxiliary, and that they hoped that this would be just the first step in blah blah blah the beginning of next week, got it.

For their inaugural meal, the new cafeteria workers went with simple and homey- an assorted seafood tempura medley, a beautiful poached egg over rice, and a small bowl of miso soup on the side. Oh, you’re vegetarian? Don’t worry, we got you covered; there’s more than enough vegetable tempura to keep you happy. Now do you want your soy sauce in your rice or on the side?

Amy collected her tray after a time in line (the smell of her impending meal sent an instant shock to her brain, sending her salivary glands into overdrive) and searched desperately for a seat. But, for the first time in a long time, the cafeteria was packed. It wasn’t just the triumphant staff members occupying the tables today. The room was also populated by wrestlers who had signed the petition, wrestlers who hadn’t bothered to sign the petition but liked good food, and wrestlers who were just coming off of a workout and were wondering what all the commotion was about. It’s not even a show day. It’s, like, three in the afternoon. Come on, guys. This is ridiculous.

Finally, Amy was able to secure a seat at a two-person table off to the side, across from a cute old man from accounting who wondered where the pizza went. Amy smiled politely, then turned her attentions to the meal in front of her.

First, the egg. Upon closer inspection, Amy realized that it, too, had taken a turn in the oil, rendering it as golden as the breaded seafood. She poked at it with a chopstick, and yolk burst forth like like lava over the steaming rice below. Mesmerizing.

Then she turned her attention to the prawn. Reverently, she held it between her chopsticks and took a sniff. Distantly nutty; from the sesame oil it had been bathed in, no doubt. Then she took a bite. Dear god... where did the crunchy breading end and the soft, sweet flesh begin? They’re completely different textures, yet the line between the two was like the evening horizon on a windless sea. Amazing! Now the soup...

Her tablemate stood up to go find himself his pizza, but Amy hardly noticed, utterly engrossed in her late lunch.

Aoi had never seen so many people inside the Tension cafeteria at the same time. She had no knowledge of the cafeteria politics or its recent health crusade. All she knew was that she needed a light snack and there was a cattle drive going on.

Still, she was a dainty and persuasive woman and many of the men were eager to let her get ahead of the line for a chance to gaze at her low cut top. She was only getting a little bit, after all. And she was most certainly in a hurry! She always rewarded them by brushing up against their tightening laps with her ass.

Perverts. Disgusting perverts. All of them.

Once she had her small bowl of rice with a few tempura shrimps, the last thing she had to do was find a table. With a quick scan, it looked like most of the tables were fuull up. Surely she could get any man to move from his seat, but the line had worn her thin of "accidental" goosings and so when she noticed the two seater with an empty seat, she made her way towards Amy.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" Aoi said with a warm smile on her face.

Amy looked up from her food, startled out of her reverie. “Nope, it’s all your…” The simpering face that stared down at her was instantly familiar, even if Amy didn’t know the woman’s name. This was one of the girls who’d fought against Nathan’s team at Showdown, and the bitch who’d interfered in Domino’s match at the same PPV. Amy’s eyes lost a bit of their friendly glimmer. “It’s all yours.” Amy warily watched the newcomer take the seat. She was torn; she wanted to say something, tell her off, but most of her attention was still anchored to the food that was rapidly cooling on her tray. Amy opened her mouth… then thought better of it. Instead, Amy tried to concentrate again on her meal.

Soup. Miso soup. Nice and hot. The smell was instantly familiar; it reminded her of her first time eating Japanese food. The woman had so giddily sneak attacked both Charlie and Daisuke with swift kicks to the nuts...

Amy shook her head. The particulate huddled together in an opaque nebula in the center of the bowl, and, every once in a while, a teeny-tiny block of tofu innocently popped a face out of the cloud. The woman had worn that exact same vacant smile when she was distracting the referee in the Tension championship match, a distraction that led directly to Drake’s loss.

Amy shut her eyes tight. She grabbed the bowl and lifted it to her mouth. Her mind played a clip of the woman's head bobbing up and down on Daisuke’s engorged cock, a sight she’d never wanted to see. Ugh. Goddamnit.

Amy put down her bowl of soup with an exasperated sigh. It's fucking miso soup; it's gonna taste like any other miso soup, because there’s no such thing as outstanding miso soup. Amy looked back at her new tablemate. “Hey, I’m Amy. You were at Showdown this year, right? What was your name, again?”

Aoi's eyebrow raised coyly as she slipped into the seat on the other side of the table. She could see the gears turning in Amy's mind. Unfamiliar with the girl, she was curious as to what could have brought about the girl's quickly changing demeanor?

Jealousy, most likely. The girl seemed homely and lacking a bit in the chest. She had none of Aoi's refinement, that was clear enough. Still, Aoi took her place and gave the girl a warmhearted smile. As well as she could, at least.

And when Amy introduced herself and said she recognized Aoi, the bluenette's lips spread a little wider. "Hello. I am Aoi... Aoi Tamazaki. It's nice to meet you, Amy-san. Yes, I was at Showdown." She said. Aoi remained cool. There was only two reasons that Amy could bring it up. She was grateful for what Aoi did to those disgusting boys or she took issue with it. With the way Amy's expression meandered, Aoi had a pretty good idea of which one it was. Still, she played it straight.

"Did you enjoy the show?" She asked with a rueful smile.

Oh, what a bitch. What a supreme bitch. ‘Did she enjoy the show?’ Like the nut shots, foul play, and surprise blow job were supposed to be entertaining to her? Aoi was a talented actress, and her innocent act was second to none, but it couldn't be more obvious that that Aoi knew exactly what she was doing. Amy fiddled with her chopsticks. “Some of it. I thought the tag championship match was pretty good. And the Tension Championship match was great… until you came and fucked with it.” She gestured pointedly with one of her utensils. “Actually, you managed to ruin everything you showed up in. The match you were actually scheduled to fight in was like watching a ballbusting fetishist’s wet dream. So, overall: no, I didn’t enjoy it. I’d give it a D.” Amy stabbed her chopsticks into her rice so that they stood upright. Then she leaned in, and her voice dropped an octave. "Domino busted his ass earning that title shot, and he deserved to win or lose it all on his own. You should have stayed out of it."

Aoi pulled the bowl of rice up to her lips to hide her smile as her eyebrows raised in response to Amy's accusations. She daintily pushed rice into her mouth and chewed it all while the blonde accused her, accurately so, of being quite dastardly. Once Amy was finished, Aoi set her bowl down and folded her hands in her laps. She had a polite smile, but her blue eyes shimmered.

"Oh?" She said. "He deserved it?" She asked. "You are the kind of woman who knows what a man deserves? She asked and smiled just a little bit more. She turned her head a bit. "I was doing those boys a favor. I'm sure all three of them secretly loved it. Why else would they sign up to wrestle women if not to use their muscled bodies to do what they liked with smaller girls like us?"

Aoi lowered her head. "I'm sure that it's just about healthy competition, right? And the reason they don't wrestle in a men's league is because...?" She asked. "The fact that any of them are here at all is exactly why my actions were justified."

Aoi lifted up her bowl and began to politely nibble on a tempura shrimp after dipping it in some sauce.

Amy blinked. “What are you, stupid? What I think has nothing to do with it. He deserved it because he earned it. Anyone who looks at his record could tell you that.” Amy thought that Aoi might have slipped a slut crack in there somewhere, but it was too clumsy to know for sure. Maybe it was less subtle in Japanese?

“As to the rest of your bullshit,” Amy raised a hand. “Isn’t the AFW the world’s premiere fighting league? People sign up because they’re looking for pro-wrestling’s biggest stage, whether they fight girls, guys, or whatever. And it’s not like the dudes are hurting for competition when they get here. They try their hardest, and they still routinely get their asses handed to them.”

Amy pulled her chopsticks from her rice, then got to putting some in her mouth. Then she thought of something else, and slapped her chopsticks back onto the table, sending grains of eggy rice everywhere. “And another thing,” Amy made a face. “You were doing them a ‘favor?’ ‘I’m sure they secretly loved it’? Is there some rapist handbook that you’re pulling your lines from?” Amy pressed forward again, her weight bearing down into the table through her elbows. She pointed up at Aoi’s innocuous expression. “You don’t get to do something like blow a guy against his will in front of a crowd and on tv because you decide that he actually loves it- especially if he begs you to stop while you're doing it.” She retrieved her chopsticks, then proceeded to pick up a fresh clump of rice. “The fact that you have to “justify” any of your actions, though, makes me think that you already know this, and you just don’t care.” The rice went into her mouth. It was pretty good rice, as much as one batch of rice can be better than another, but Amy hardly noticed. Aoi was ruining her lunch. Amy swallowed, and the rice went down dry. “That makes you a bitch, and we’d probably both have a better time if we stopped talking to each other, so let's do that.” Amy's eyes finally stopped boring holes into Aoi's and dropped to her food. She picked up a piece of tempura and took a big bite, all business. Maybe Aoi would take the hint and leave.

Aoi narrowed her eyes as Amy spoke. She didn't very much care for what the girl was saying. "Oh, how it must be nice to look at life through rose colored glasses." Aoi said as she casually ate some rice between words. "And no one says a thing when a monster like Killer King is allowed to do whatever he wants. Do you think that any of the girls watching want to be in the ring?" She asked. "Take that poor girl's place?"

Aoi leaned back. "Because I'm sure the guy's would give anything to trade places with whoever's in the ring with me. And that's the problem. I have no remorse for someone who would go home at night and jerk off while thinking about me.... or any girl. Men are pigs. I'm doing them a favor. How many times have I had to rub up against a stiff cock while I was in the ring? I never asked for that. They can't even keep themselves in check when it's not even sexual. Because it always is."

Aoi turned her head and crossed her legs. She let her eyes flutter closed so she wasn't looking at Amy one bit while she continued to eat her food.

Amy let Aoi drone while she worked at her lunch. Figured; of course she wouldn’t shut up, not just because Amy told her to. She wanted the last word, fine; Amy was under no obligation to engage. She was better than that. Amy kept her mouth shut and her focus on her food.

At least, for a little while. Amy’s head whipped up. “No one-?!” got out before Amy shut herself down. She kept her indignant screaming confined to within her skull: No one says anything when King does what he does?! Are you dense?! Are you blind?! And how did anyone who had to point at King and pout, well, he's worse, dare to claim moral high ground? Amy did her best to regain her composure while Aoi continued her frankly contradictory explanation of why she did what she did. Men are eversexual pigs; that’s bad. So I have sex with them in the ring against their will, and that’s good; heck, it’s a favor to them. The pigs from before. Who are bad for wanting it. The thing I do to them. That they say they don't want. Ugh.

Amy needed a few seconds past where Aoi had finished her explanation to fully calm down. Once she’d centered herself, she spoke again, this time with her bowl of soup in hand. “The shutting up thing won’t work if you keep running your mouth. Try it, seriously. It makes eating a lot easier, too.” As if to demonstrate, Amy brought her bowl up to her mouth and tipped it back. *slurp!* Yup, much easier while not talking.

Aoi watched as Amy nearly snapped. She could see the gears turning in the blonde's mind and her lips began to curl into a haughty, devilish smile. She knew what she was doing. She was throwing every lewd thought a guy had back in their face. Giving them the things they thought about in the dark corners of their mind in front of a live audience of thousands and millions of people watching at him. If she had to degrade herself to their level to prove her own point, she had no shame. She would do it and those men would be left wondering how they could hate themselves for getting what they wanted. It was divine retribution as far as she was concerned and she certainly was divine.

"Oh, I'm finished, dear." Aoi said and began to sit up from her place at the table. "It's so crowded." She said and looked around. "The atmosphere has really made it quite difficult to enjoy my food. It wasn't all that good anyway." Her gaze never fell onto Amy, though it was clear what her words meant.

"Have a wonderful day. Aoi said and placed her hand on Amy's shoulder. "It was so nice meeting you, dear." She said, smiling through the blonde as she slipped off.