A door covered in physics and math jokes from comic strips.

You walk over to a door that’s just slightly cracked. It’s decorated with cut-out strips from various comics, with jokes about math and physics, most of which go over your head. From inside, you can hear two people talking animatedly, but you can’t quite make out what they’re talking about. The name on the door is “Kayla Thomas”.

You reach over to knock, but you only have to do it once before the door is opened from inside to reveal a petite black woman with glasses and a bun in her hair. She talks almost too fast for you to hear as she says, “Hi, I’m Kayla and I need you to answer an extremely serious question for me. Critical stuff. Maximum importance, and all that. Come on in here and help me win an argument.”

Slightly bewildered, you enter the room. A tall bookshelf, filled from bottom to top, is pushed up against one wall. The desk in the corner is cluttered, covered with stray papers and pencils. A tanned brunette woman you vaguely recognize as one of the ring girls is sitting in a chair near the center of the room, and she waves to you as you walk in.

“You know, Kayla,” she says, “even if he agrees with you, that won’t make you any less wrong.”

“Au contraire,” says Kayla, wagging a finger as she sits down on the edge of her bed. “ECL fighters are given a great deal of autonomy to determine the content of our matches. That’s why the League doesn’t rely on scripting as much as other wrestling promos. Therefore, the opinion of another fighter actually carries a great deal of weight in this argument, since we’re the ones determining what actually happens in the ring.”

Her companion raises an eyebrow. “We don’t even know that he is a fighter.”

Kayla opens her mouth to object, then closes it. “You know, that’s actually a fair point. Are you?”

You nod. “I haven’t been one for very long, but yeah. I’m John. Pleasure to meet you, Kayla and...”

“Allison,” the ring girl introduces herself.

“Pleasure to meet you, Kayla and Allison. But, uh...what was the question you wanted me to answer?”

Kayla turns to you with a serious expression on her face. “Should sexy pillow fights be part of the ECL’s entertainment lineup?”

You blink a few times in confusion. “This was the critical question of maximum importance?”

“Determining that I’m right is always of maximum importance,” she jokes.

You sigh in exasperation. “Okay. Technically, sexy pillow fights do count as erotic combat. So if we can do it in a way that the fans will like, then yes. It should count.”

“Ha!” Kayla shouts triumphantly.

“What? That makes no sense,” says Allison. “How are sexy pillow fights anything like what you guys do in the ring?”

Instead of responding, Kayla gets up and marches over to her bookshelf. She has to search through it for a bit—there seems to be no rhyme or reason to how the books are stacked on it—but she eventually pulls out a Merriam-Webster dictionary and flips through it.

“Combat, noun,” she reads. “A fight or contest between individuals or groups.” She pages forward to the E section. “Erotic, adjective. One: of, devoted to, or tending to arouse sexual love or desire. Two: strongly marked or affected by sexual desire. So unless you plan to tell me that no one gets aroused when they see a sexy pillow fight, I’m right and you’re wrong.”

“Technically,” Allison hedges.

“Technically correct is the best kind of correct,” Kayla shoots back. “Thanks for the assist, John.”

“It doesn’t really seem like you needed my help,” you laugh.

“No, but it was nice to have anyway,” Kayla says.

“I know what you’re about to ask and yes, she is always like this,” Allison tells you with a long-suffering sigh that’s belied by her fond expression.

“I think I’ve gotta get going,” you say, still chuckling. “It was nice meeting you both.”

“Kayla, you scared him off,” Allison admonishes.

“Only for a little while,” you say sardonically.

Kayla and Allison wave to you as you walk out, and as you close the door behind you, you can hear them starting to argue again.