4.16.2010
THE NEST
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
10:32 AM CENTRAL DAYLIGHT TIME
Wendy Briese-Thompson hated to lose.
Although the young woman often hid her ultra-competitive nature behind a quiet, reserved demeanor, the truth was, on the inside, Wendy was as every bit as fierce a competitor as anybody who ever graced the ring.
For her, losing meant just one thing.
Failure.
And Wendy feared failure more than anything else in the world.
Of course, this constant fear of failure hadn't led to Wendy abandoning her morals. This same fear stretched to her ideals- in particular, her stance that professional wrestling should be nothing more than an athletic competition, where one's ability to win, and win fairly, should count way more than any aspect of showmanship, particularily the ability to spill blood.
After all, if an athletic competition is to prove you're better than the other guy, wouldn't cheating to win simply prove that you weren't? And if you were truly good enough, you should be able to rely on your skills, not a baseball bat or a chair.
No, abandoning your ethics was every bit as much a failure, if not moreso, than losing was.
It was an interesting turmoil inside her, and, from an outside perspective, most people wondered how she could even function. After all, if all you cared about was winning, but then put yourself seemingly at a disadvantage with restrictions, weren't you just shooting yourself in the foot?
But for Wendy, it was the exact opposite. This belief, that one could still play by the rules and win, only fueled her. Her convictions gave her an inner stregnth that had turned her into one of the toughest competitors to ever grace the 'squared circle'. They had lent fuel to the fire that enabled her to defeat men twice... even three times her weight. As her late friend Rick had once told her, she was a warrior, a guardian of the ideal that goodness and sticking to one's morals did have positive effects. If losing was failure, then she couldn't. She wouldn't. She didn't.
Much.
So why was Wendy Briese, who had slain giants with her own two hands, losing to a thirteen pound CAT?
"Let... go... of... me!" Wendy growled through gritted teeth as she tried desperately to pry Chaunticleers claws from her arm. Truthfully, she was thankful she was wearing a black cashmere sweater, although she rued the damage the claws were causing.
"Bad Kittie!" Wendy snarled as she freed one paw, only for it to immediately latch itself back onto her sleeve. She sighed in frustration. This was going nowhere.
Changing strategies, with her free left hand she grabbed behind Chaunticleer's neck, and pulled, while simultaneously jerking her right arm away. The strategy worked, although the cats claws shredded her sleeves as they released.
Wendy felt a sharp pain in her arm, and realized those same claws had taken a small chunk of skin from her arm as well. Already she could feel blood trickling down her arm.
"AUGH! That does it!" Wendy hissed in frustration. "You... are... getting... DECLAWED!"
For Chant's part, he seemed to have realized that the redhead had him by the scruff of the neck, and further struggling was futile. So he changed tactics, going limp in her grasp and mewling pathetically.
"Oh, shut up!" Wendy snarled, and she threw the cat headfirst into its cage, slamming the wireframe door behind it.
"Are you okay, Mommy?"
Wendy looked up as her daughter ran into the room, her three year old face showing concern. Wendy looked down at her torn sleeve and bleeding arm, and nodded.
"Mommy's fine, Terr-Bear. I just had some problems putting Chaunticleer in his cage." She beckoned down to the cat-carrier, fighting down a tremendous urge to kick it.
"Where's daddy?"
"He went..." Wendy paused. She actually had no idea where her husband had gone. Terrence had left about an hour ago, telling Wendy he'd be right back and to finish getting packed.
Even weirder... he had taken HER Ford Focus, a car he absolutely despised.
A knock at the front door disrupted her thoughts. "Come in!" Wendy called.
The door opened, and in walked Cassie, holding a suitcase and a smaller overnight bag. "What happened to you?" she asked, eyeing Wendy's ruined sweater and bloody arm.
"Bad kitty" Wendy replied shortly, again fighting down the urge to kick the cat carrier. "In fact, since you're here, why don't you watch Theresa, and I'll go fix myself up?"
Cassie nodded, and dropped her bags next to the small pile of luggage that had been slowly growing in the Thompson family living room all morning. This road trip was going to be a longer one, she had been told, with the Birdz immediately departing from the PWX show for Pennsylvania, where they, as Terrence had darkly put it, "had business to take care of with an Appalachian newcomer." They could expect to be gone for nearly a week, she had been told.
In truth, Cassie was still wasn't quite why she had even agreed to this. Despite the WhirlyBirdz impressive win over The Fallen, the initial excursion to Valparaiso was nothing short of a disaster. Between Dan's navigational skills, a botched reservation that only allowed them all one hotel room, and five people being crammed into one car for four hours, it hadn't been the glamorous excursion she had imagined.
Apperently, it hadn't been for the Birdz either, because as soon as they had returned to Indianapolis, Terrence had promised her that the next trip would be better. Cassie had her own suggestion- kick out the fat one, but she knew better than to voice her opinion. For some reason, despite his annoying tendencies, both Terrence and Wendy seemed to value him. She could not see why.
As if on cue, the front door swung open, and in walked Daniel Pollaski. To further Cassie's irritation, little Theresa gave a yelp of joy, and ran to Pollaski, receiving a hair tousling for her efforts. Pollaski shrugged off his backpack, and dropped his duffel bag on the luggage pile.
"Where'd Wendy go?" Pollaski asked Cassie.
"Upstairs... she had a problem getting Chaunticleer in his cage."
Pollaski looked confused. "If she's upstairs... where's her car?"
"Terrence took it," Wendy answered as she bounded back down the stairs. She had changed into a short sleeved green blouse, and her arm had been cleaned, with a small band-aid placed over the cut. "No idea why, either. Nice haircut, by the way."
"Thanks," Pollaski grinned, running his hand through his now close-cropped hair. His hair hadn't been long, but it had definitely been getting shaggy, with his bangs falling into his eyes. "I woke up yesterday, and thought I looked positively emo. And not listen to My Chemical Romance emo, either. I'm talking Darin Zion, cut your arms and let the pain bleed out emo."
"Thanks, Dan" Wendy snapped irritably.
"What?" Pollaski asked innocently as both Wendy and Cassie glared at him. Deciding it was best to change the subject, Dan reverted back to the original topic of conversation. "So, when's Terrence supposed to be back?"
"No idea," Wendy replied with a sigh of exasperation. "And I have everything ready... at least I think I do. Not sure what else there is."
"Well, the question is- if you're ready for our trip... what about your match this week?"
"Sure am" Wendy smiled at her manager, albeit less than enthusiastically. "My first singles match since coming back. Should be interesting."
"Yeah, right." Pollaski scoffed. "Either PWX management is completely clueless about what to do with you, or someone up there really has it in for the Fallen. I mean, you and Terrence beat the ever-loving tar out of Silkk and Grayson, and now they feed you their valet?"
Wendy shrugged. "I admit, its not exactly the match I was hoping for. But at least I'm here. At least I'm competing. I'm just happy to be wrestling, and I know that if I keep winning, sooner or later I'll get a chance at Valerie, Danny, or Brian."
"Besides," Wendy continued, "Mercedes might just surprise you. I know her sister Lilith used to be a wrestler, and I'm sure Mercedes wouldn't be willing to step in the ring unless she knew a thing or two. I view her as serious an opponent as I would anyone else. Fortunes change dramatically in this sport, and all the momentum Terrence and I gained last week could be erased if we both lose here. Besides, regardless of how good Mercedes is, I would be insulting her if I gave anything than my absolute best."
"And god-forbid you EVER insult someone." Pollaski quipped sarcastically.
Cassie snorted, and even Wendy cracked a smile. "I just don't see the point of name calling," the redhead responded softly. "You have to respect the ability of anyone who gets in the ring with you. I just wish they didn't call it a 'vixen's match'".
Now it was Pollaski's turn to snort, while Cassie nodded. Considering how conservative Wendy tended to be in matters of sexuality, 'vixen' was generally not a word used to describe her.
"Daddy's home!" Theresa shrieked in glee from the front windows, where she had perched herself in an impromptu vigil while the three adults talked. "And he's driving a house!"
"A house?" Wendy, Dan, and Cassie all looked at each other, the three of them hurrying over to he window.
As one, all three stopped, and gasped.
"Oh..." exhaled Wendy
"My..." continued Cassie.
"God!" finished Pollaski.
"He... bought another RV?" Wendy asked, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.
For a couple of years, Terrence and Wendy had lived out of an RV as they toured the country. Figuring that it would be better if they took home with them, instead of returning to a seldom-used house or apartment. The arrangement had worked out well, even after Pollaski had joined the team. Only when the original RV had been destroyed in a tornado did the Birdz settle down and move into a proper house.
But as nice as their old RV was, it was NOTHING compared to the glistening, red and black, forty-five foot masterpiece now sitting curbside in front of their lawn.
"Wendy?" Dan panted, as if the very image had stolen the air from him. "That's not just any RV... that's a Newmar."
"A Newmar King Aire, to be exact!" said a masculine voice behind them, forcing Wendy, Dan, and Cassie to jump. Theresa ran towards her father, who picked her up with a kiss on the cheek. "The best of the best."
"Dude... those... like run half a mil..." Pollaski managed to stammer out.
"What?" Wendy squeaked out, her features suddenly pale. "How... how could we afford...."
"Its okay. I just used Theresa's college fund. I figured we got fifteen years to get it back."
"TERRENCE!!!!!!" Wendy screamed in horror.
"I'm KIDDING!" Terrence shot back, grinning. "I sold some of our stocks, and I got a great deal and a payment plan. We'll be fine."
"Still..." Wendy looked back out the window. "It seems... ostentatious."
"It seems we now have five people traveling around the country to wrestling shows. And I think my wife and daughter only deserve the best!"
"And the sitter just signed on to the best ride ever..." Cassie whispered. Next to her, Pollaski nodded in agreement.
"Now, enough talking!" Terrence proclaimed, setting Theresa down. "Wendy, you and Cassie start loading. Dan, you and I are gonna get my car on the trailer." Terrence beckoned to the now empty trailer hitched to the RV.
At this, Wendy stopped, again looking out the window. "Terrence... where's MY car?"
There was a long pause, as Terrence looked away from his wife. Wendy immediately began to sense something was wrong, and wheeled around.
"Cassie, you better take Theresa outside," Pollaski whispered. Cassie nodded, and, grabbing Theresa's hand, briskly walked to the front entryway and out the door.
"Terrence..." Wendy repeated. "Where. Is. MY. Car?"
Terrence seemed to be at a loss, but for just a second. He shrugged. "Well, technically... its not your car anymore..."
"YOU SOLD MY CAR?"
Terrence took a step back, and shrugged again. "Well, technically... I traded it in. For the trailer."
"Let me get this straight," Wendy began, her fists clenched at her side. "You took MY car, and traded it in for a trailer so we can tow YOUR car around?"
"Oh, good Lord, no." Terrence protested. "I also got six thousand dollars cash back."
"You had no right to do that!" Wendy protested.
"Technically, I did, cause my name was on the registration too. Don't worry, I'll let you have SOME of the cash. And its not like you'll need the car anymore. I can drive you around!"
Wendy glared at her husband, ignoring the pain as her nails dug into her palms.
"FINE!" Wendy finally snapped at her husband. "Just... FINE! We'll tow YOUR car around, and I'll be a good little wife and let you drive all the time. Would you also like me to do all the cooking and cleaning?"
"Of course not! You're a lousy cook. I figured Cassie can do that."
By now, Wendy's cheeks were nearly the color of her hair, her teeth bared in a snarl. With a snort, and a stamp of her foot, she stormed towards the stairs.
"Where you going?" Terrence asked.
"To pack some more things," she responded icily, not even bothering to stop. "Now that I know we'll be in a motorhome, I can bring more... stuff."
"Good thinking!" Terrence replied.
If Wendy gave a reply, it was too muffled by the walls to hear. Terrence turned to Pollaski, who had an expression of utter disbelief on his face.
"What... the... fuck... is... wrong... with... you?" Pollaski asked.
"You know," Terrence mused. "She just is so much cuter when she's angry, isn't she?"
"Oh, good." Pollaski said, sarcasm dripping. "So you do realize she's enormously pissed at you."
"Yeah," Terrence nodded. "I would be too if my spouse made a whole bunch of decisions unilaterally left me out to dry. Oh, wait..."
Pollaski's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Seriously? This is revenge for her not telling you about Mandrake?"
"Kinda," Terrence confessed. "I also REALLY hated that Focus. Now come on, lets load the Charger on the trailer. I want to get moving."
Pollaski looked after Terrence, his mouth still open in disbelief. "Dude... just... dude..." he muttered.
Upstairs, Wendy angrily tore through her closet, throwing aside shoes and accessories.
There it was.
Wendy grabbed the box, quickly making sure its contents were inside, a rare cruel smirk lighting her features.
She was going to teach her husband a lesson he would never...
EVER...
forget.
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