Lola comes out in something fluffy, pink, and surprisingly intimate

"Hey boss! You know I love a joke as much as any other gal... A lot more, actually! People say I love jokes too much, actually, and ask me to tone it down all the time! What I'm getting at is that I recognize a joke when I see one! And I thiiiink you miiiight just be pulling my leg with this-"

Lola was cut off as the man's voice responded from outside of the dressing room, starting with a deep sigh. "No, sweetie, it ain't no joke. Whatever the machine picked, that's your uniform. I told ya, it's for a fanbase ya never had before this point. S-A-T audience is 100% adults, red-blooded types, with no kids in the building. Trust me, what you're in now is what they're payin' to see. Unless you wanna forfeit before your first match, you may as well come on outta there," he responded, taking another big puff of his cigar.

The clown was almost unrecognizable as she emerged sheepishly from the dressing room, only peeking half out so as not to be spotted by the audience if this really was a joke at her expense. Her usual outfit was what you might think of as more of a typical joke: funny, laugh-inducing, a literal clown. This was something very different. The only parts of her that still looked the same were the candy making up her hairdo, her nose and make-up, and her long, spindly arms. In the place of her blue blouse and yellow overalls, she wore a woman's babydoll, light pink in color and fur-lined across the bosom in a heart shape. Ordinarily, it was easy to think of the swell under her blouse as being a balloon shape, but she had real breasts, and they were really on display here, showing significant cleavage and pushed up for extra excitement.

Her legs were bare down to tall pink stockings, lined with plush fur around the upper thighs, with garters obviously running up and connecting somewhere beneath the thin garment covering her body. A big, satin bow tied around the back, accenting her slender waist and drawing the dress up around the top, while still allowing it to billow about the thighs. Ordinarily, her legs were entirely hidden, but they turned out to have a very nice shape to them. In fact, with so much of her womanly appeal on display, her blue eyes and long lashes seemed to take on an entirely different look... She was a kid-friendly clown no longer. This was the kind of fighter that was going to turn heads.

Even the stranger that had brought her in was surprised. His eyes widened and dollar-signs flashed behind his shades. "Nah, nah, sweetie, this is you! This is the new you! Trust me, you're gonna have not just your fans trippin' over their tongues, but your opponents too! You're the cure for coulrophobia in that get-up!"

"I, uh... I mean, this isn't going to be televised, right?" Lola questioned, looking to both sides as she inched a little further out of the room. "Because, ahem, this look is... a liiittle outside of the comfort zone of my usual fanbase, I think?" she whispered, still afraid too draw too much attention to herself. Her ordinarily rosy painted cheeks were now more legitimately rosy, as she wondered what her ARMS tournament faithful would think, seeing her not just out of costume, but in such lewd attire.

"Oh, yeah, it's televised. Course, it's competin' against the friggin' ARMS Grand Prix, so viewership ain't nearly as high, but I think numbers might increase tonight when they get a look at you," he snickered, rubbing his big gray gloves together with excitement.

"Yeeeah, I think... Maybe... I'll just dress back for the bakery--"

"Aw, c'mon, you don't know what kinda money we're talkin' here! One day in the S-A-T and you're gonna have enough you can afford to close that bakery for the next month! Plus, think about it... Your opponent's already locked in. You're up now, actually. You don't show up in that ring, they'll have a new name for ya: Lola the Loser. Or uh... Lola Poof. As in 'Poof, she ain't there!'"

The money was one thing, but the one thing Lola Pop did not want to be known as was a quitter who doesn't give her 100%. She put on her smile, pulled up her top just a bit, pulled down the whole dress a little bit because woah, that was getting frighteningly close to showing off her underwear, then flashed another thumbs-up. "Easy with the threats there, Amico! I changed my mind. You're right! What's showing off a little skin, right? In the end, I'm a veteran fighter! People aren't going to be thinking about my clothes at all when they see my skills!" she reassured both him and herself.

"Uh, yeah, sure," the guy agreed, trying not to stare at her breasts too obviously. "Get in there, champ! Razzle dazzle 'em!"

"Razzle dazzle, yeah!" Lola cheered, ballooning out her body and bouncing a few times for good measure. Her whole body became momentarily spherical, besides her head, arms, and feet. Now she really was drawing attention, as the whole room seemed to shake with her impact against the floor and ceiling.

"Woah woah woah woah woah! What the heck is that?!"

"Oh? This? It's my special technique! It's a defensive skill that's all the rage! I turn into a bouncy ball and-"

"No, no no! None'a that!"

"Huh?" Lola asked, almost literally deflating as she went from ball to woman once again. "Why not?"

"Cause uh..." the man grumbled, scratching his chin with his glove as he tried to come up with a delicate way to say that people were going to lose their boners watching her turn from a fine specimen of a woman into a big rubber ball. "Cause it ain't fair to the competitor, capiche? Guy's a rookie! You hit 'em with that, he'll know he's out of his league. Give 'em a handicap. Showmanship... right?"

"Aaaah, right," Lola giggled, giving him a conspirator's wink with a big grin. "You know, you're right! I need to take it easy on him since he's a newbie! That's the way a good veteran does it! Don't worry. I'll keep that technique wrapped up tighter than Mad Mummy!"

"Y-Yeah... do that," the guy responded, straightening his fedora on his head and taking another big smoke, as if trying to forget what he just witnessed. It was a lot more disturbing seeing her do it when she was dressed like that, compared to in her usual overalls.

Lola made her way to the ring, swinging her arms confidently despite the leering looks of the almost entirely male clientele. She wasn't so stupid that she had failed to pick up on what kind of contest this was by now... but it didn't make a difference. As long as she fought proudly and with her usual skill, she had nothing to fear, even if the audience was a bunch of creeps. As she was nearly to the ring, she pressed one thumb, newly Funchuck-clad, under her chin and tilted her head thoughtfully.

What exactly did S-A-T stand for, anyway? She'd never thought to ask her new promoter.

"Iiiintroducing the next challenger, at 23 years old, five foot eight, in the pink babydoll!" a voice, decidedly deeper than that of Biff, who usually commentated her matches, came down from above. "They call her the Candy Clown because she's so sweet, you'll want to have a lick! Straight from the ARMS Grand Prix, now in the S-A-T, say hello to Loooooolaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Pooooooooooooooooo-op!"

The woman grinned and waved nervously, privately wishing they wouldn't have announced her in quite such a recognizable manner. The crowd began to perk up, realizing they had a celebrity in their midst. A cute one, too!

Lola tried to keep her focus on the fight. She was confident that whoever it was she was facing, she could pull her punches a little and produce a good fight that would make spectators forget all about this titillating entrance and focus on her fantastic footwork! And amazing armwork, of course.