Kanako Yamada’s day had been going so well up to this point. She had prepared ages upon pages of notes for what she saw as the interview that would change her life. She had tied her long brown hair into a side-ponytail, put contact lenses over her big brown eyes instead of glasses, and had dressed up in the fanciest, most idol-like clothes she had in case the interviewer wanted an audition then and there. It was supposed to be the day that she became an idol, a pop singer and star all across the city!

So why the heck was a certain girl with a short bob of black hair and bright green eyes dressed nearly the same, Emi Kanda, walking up to the place too!?

At their high school, Kanako was head of Idol Practice Club and Emi was head of the Idol Research Club; the two fought for members and funding constantly, and the two presidents had become bitter rivals. Every year since middle school someone suggested merging the clubs, but negotiations always broke down on the matter of A: Which room they’d keep and B: Who would be president and who would be vice president. Neither was the type to back down easily, and in the end they always decided to remain separate.

The two met at the double-doors leading inside, and stood apart glaring at each other, like they were about to engage in a wild west showdown.

“Kanda.”

“Yamada.”

The two stared at each other. Neither blinked. The impromptu staring contest had begun by accident, but had turned into a battle of pride. Neither would be the first to back down and give their mortal enemy even that slight satisfaction! Even if both were aware it was kinda ridiculous.

“So, Emi, why are you here?” Kanako said without looking away.

Emi didn’t break contact either. “I could ask the same, Kanako.”

“Well, I’m here to become an idol. Once the Idol Practice Club has a real idol, nobody will go to the Idol Research Club!”

“Ha! You must have seen that ad too! But you’re wrong, it’s your club that will have to contend with a real idol!”

The two seemed about to launch into equally irritating arguments when the double doors burst open. “Ah, what’s this I hear? The tones of a pair of potential stars?” said a tall man as he strode out of the doors, in a white suit with a black tie, sunglasses, and a similarly white fedora.

“Who the heck are you?” Kanako asked.

But Emi was instead bowing. “Ah! Producer, it’s nice to meet you!”

Kanako put two and two together - dangit, good guess Emi! She mimicked the bow. “Yes, wonderful to meet you!” Damnit, she’d introduced herself second, and now-

“Come in, come in, both of you! You’re both very punctual, I like that in a candidate, come, come!” The man spoke rapid-fire, fast enough that neither girl could actually get a word in. With their standoff forcibly broken by outside intervention, the girls glanced at each other before following.

The building - an old, distinguished theater (at least by the standards of the relatively new city) - was in nice shape. This promoter didn’t seem like a small time producer if he could have this kind of place. It was surprisingly empty of both guests and staff, but the girls both chalked that to the early hour.

“You guys can just call me Producer, like Emi did, if you want.” the strange man said as he led them through a side hall and down some stairs. “After all, that’s the formal term and it’s who I’m going to be for you!”

“For which of us?” Kanako asked, looking at Emi. “I thought you’d only be taking one person…”

“Yeah! Only one idol, dominating the stage!” Emi said in agreement.

“Now, now, girls… oh, one second, we’re at my office.”

It didn’t look much like an office at all, actually. It was just a wide open room in the underground section, with a table and a few chairs. “I’m still getting set up, honestly, but I figure that the wide space is nice!” Producer said, sitting down on one side of the table and ruffling through some pages.

The girls looked at each other, and shrugged. A starting up producer might need a couple idols, that made sense. They sat down. “So… is there anything we need to do?” Emi asked, “I sent in a tape already, but I could perform right here!”

“So can I!” Kanako echoed, “The acoustics in here might be a bit off, but-”

“No, no, it’s fine! I saw the tapes, and they were both just perfect! So perfect, I couldn’t decide on which of you to pick.”

“Well I-”

“I think I-”

“Settle down! Not asking for your arguments, I’m telling you to celebrate, since I decided to take you both! You’ll be a wonderful idol duo, I think~”

The girls looked at each other again. “Duo!?” they said at the exact same time. They glared at each other, waiting for one to continue. “You can’t expect me to work with her!” They said, again in perfect synch.

The producer watched them for a bit, then clapped his hands together. “Already thinking like one! Excellent. As for your relationship… well, if you’d prefer I not have you sign on, I’d understand. It’s a big chance, but sometimes, you just can’t work with someone...”

The two stopped arguing at once. They couldn’t stand each other, and it wouldn’t be as good for their clubs… but more importantly, they both desperately wanted to be idols! “I’ll be nice about it if you are!” Kanako said, her natural questioning nature and anger dispelled by the gentle threat.

“Deal!” Emi said immediately.

“Great!” The Producer slid two bits of paper out of the pile, and offered a pair of pens. “You know, Matsushita City has some interesting laws on the subject compared to mainland Japan - a lot more break time, a lot more freedom, so if you want to be an idol, this is a pretty good place…”

It turned out he didn’t need the whole convincing spiel he’d prepared - before his sentence was half done, the girls had signed the contracts and returned them. He could hardly believe it had been that easy. “Well, now that’s done… signed and sealed, yep, thanks girls!”

“Now what do we do?” Kanako asked.

“Well, it’s simple…” the Producer snapped a finger. “We have to talk about your new personas! You can’t just be boring high school students, can you?”

At the snap, both girls stiffened, before sagging, their eyes drooping. “Mmmhm. Yeah…” Emi said dreamily.

“Yeah, makes sense.” Kanako agreed in the same half-awake tone.

“Good, good.” The Producer stretched - the magical contract sealed, they were his to do with as he pleased. “Now, I think we should settle on a theme. Now, cute and peppy idols, or even cool and aloof ones, are super overdone. What we need is a couple bad bitch types, don’t you think? Some real divas, who get the sort of fans that want to be crushed under your high heels.”

The words crept into the pair’s minds. Right. He was totally right. The world had had enough of diabetes inducing sweetness and annoying “I’m better than you” cold types from the idol world. It needed a new breed!

The Producer smiled at the cruel smirks forming on his victim’s faces. “Yeah, that’s right. You know those bad guy wrestlers that you see in American wrestling? That’s you two. You’re a pair of mean-spirited, trashy divas! You’re the furthest thing there can be from the pure cutesy types, you do whatever you damn well please. Flashy, revealing clothes, let the fans get what they always really wanna see. Chew them out for it too, they’ll love it, and don’t spare those boring traditional idols from it either!

That was right. They were divas, badass bitches who did whatever they wanted! Cute and pure? Who wanted something like that!? Not Kanako and Emi, that was for damn sure! If they wanted to show off their figures or cuss someone out or badmouth a peppy bitch, then they would do it! Thoughts of the uplifting and kind personas they’d planned for their idol debut fled their heads in the face of their new selves.

“But it’s no fun just having one person go against the crowd. That’s why you two are such good friends. You double team them, tear them down - when they have enough from one of you the other one jumps in to finish them off!” The Producer said. He wasn’t even pretending to be talking about singing anymore. “Maybe if you try hard enough, they’ll get it through their thick skulls, the kind of girls they should really be.”

That was right. They’d go after all those symbols of purity and sweetness and they’d bring them to heel, show them what the world really wanted from them! Those sluts wouldn’t be able to claim they were better than anyone else when Kanako and Emi were grinding them under their heels, forcing them to debase themselves for their fans.

The girls seemed to be mentally prepared, so the Producer tapped a finger on the contracts. A bolt of magic shot into each, and the ink started to drain away… towards the girls. It leapt from the contracts, covering each girl in turn as they sat there staring into space. For a couple minutes, there was no motion, as the ink set and stained their bodies and souls.

Soon, though, it started to drain away, revealing their new selves. Kanako’s brown side-ponytail had been exchanged for a sheet of blood-red curls going down her back, her eyes matching it. Her skin had paled to a chalky white, which made the crimson lightning bolt makeup around her eyes and cheeks particularly striking. The newly minted diva absentmindedly licked red-painted lips, her black-gloved hands running down her body to discover it’s new exaggerated curves, the sheet of rock-solid abs and muscles, visible through the latex black-and-red leotard she wore. She moaned softly, stretching her legs clad in fishnets and heeled boots.

Emi, meanwhile, had had her black hair sheer itself even shorter- it went only a bit past her ears now, and was so spikey and stiff you could imagine it would hurt to touch. She had the same chalky skin tone as her counterpart, but with black claw designs dotted across her face and black lipstick instead of red. Her uniform was even more revealing, the red and black latex barely covering her breasts and leaving her entire midriff bare so that anyone could see the musculature. She wore a headpiece (...probably) in the shape of devil’s horns, and what was presumably a fake tail whipped out with ominously lifelike movements.

“Now…” the Producer said, and the two shot looks at him. Their makeup - or were they tattoos? - glowed, a sign of their new magical powers. “Let’s call you… Cataclysm Kanako, and Eri-adicator.” A bit cheesy, but it fit their new aesthetics.

“We’ll call ourselves whatever we damn well please, dick.” Cataclysm Kanako snarled.

“You don’t get to name us!” Eri-adicator shouted. “...I do think those are good ideas, and I’m glad we came up with them.”

“You want us to step on you like all the other boys? I’m sure it’ll be fun, even if you won’t be a dude much longer if you let us…” Cataclysm Kanako said with a malicious grin.

“No, I’m quite alright… now, for your debut, I believe I’ve set something up. It’s hardly a fair fight, but…”

“Since when have we fought fair?” Eri-adicator finished.

“Precisely.” He raised a hand, as if to an unseen spectator, and a hatch in the floor grinded open. Rising out of it, was… a wrestling ring surrounded by a cage. Inside of it, was sitting a girl in extremely frilly dress, wielding a wand. A magical girl, trapped by a magical cage. “I’m sure she’s just the type you want to break.”

The pair of heels licked their lips looking at the girl. She seemed so kind. So pure. So easy to fuck with. She was perfect. They stood, approaching the door to the cage, cracking their knuckles.

The Producer swapped out his name tag, to a new one saying the Announcer, as he hit a button on the table and activated the cameras. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special match for you here on TFTV…”