2.11.2010
THE NEST
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
4:47 PM EASTERN STANDARD TIME
"I got into Stanford."
The announcement by the small brunette caught Wendy off guard as she entered the room. Only a couple of minutes had passed since Wendy's confrontation with Cassie in her bedroom, and Wendy still felt absolutely worn out from it.
And she knew she was in for another emotionally draining conversation with this girl, Megan Cerotta.
"That's wonderful!" Wendy smiled with much more enthusiasm than she was feeling. "I knew you could-"
"I went to the theater to tell you the news," Megan continued. "But you weren't there. They said you got fired!"
Wendy nodded.
Megan winced at Wendy's confirmation, and Wendy felt the guilt she had kicking up again. Her life hadn't been the only one affected by her foolish actions today.
"Why?" Megan demanded, and Wendy could see tears welling in her eyes.
"I hit Simon in a fit of rage." Wendy replied softly. "I regret it, now."
"You hit him? What did he do?"
Wendy swallowed, and looked away. "He..." her voice trailed off. All Simon had done was tell her off for insubordination, and she had attacked him. "I don't know," she finally said. She figured it was a better answer than "nothing."
"You don't know?" Megans sorrow was quickly turning into anger. "You just wrecked everything, and you don't even know why you did it?"
"I'm sor-"
"You're sorry?" Megan snapped. "What about us? We believed in you, Ms. Thompson. We followed you, and this is where you've led us? To the end?"
Wendy flinched as if she had been slapped. "I'm sure they will hire ano-"
"And if they don't? The theater was about to be shut down because there was no funding. Now we have funding, and no director! Just when we were saved, you've gone and damned everyone!"
"The theater was never saved." Wendy replied.
"Oh, what do you mean by THAT?" Megan demanded angrily.
"The donor turned out to be an old enemy of mine. He only invested in the theater in an attempt to hurt me."
"So what?" Megan sniffed. "If he was willing to give you money, then you should have taken it!
"You don't understand..."
"Of course I don't!" Megan snapped back. "You begged everyone for this funding, and you got it. And now you wreck it all because you don't like the benefactor?"
"I was just trying to protect you guys.."
"Protect us? From what? The big scary man who wrote out a $10,000 check? And you know what? Now that you killed the theater, I'll have to spend more nights at home, with my drunk-ass dad. That's a great way to protect me!"
Wendy flinched again, and she could feel tears welling in her eyes. "Megan, please, listen to me..."
"Go to hell, you dumb bitch." Megan hissed, then, shoving Wendy aside, began walking towards the door. "Thanks for ruining everything."
"Megan, wait. Please!" Wendy begged, trying to follow the enraged girl.
"And you know what? I hope this man you're so afraid of does hurt you. So you know what its like!"
*SLAM!*
With a final condemnation, Megan stormed out of the house, leaving Wendy standing alone in the front entranceway, tears streaming down her face.
2.18.2010
THE NEST
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
9:24 PM EASTERN TIME
"What are they doing?"
Terrence Thompson chuckled at his daughter's inquiry. The three year old had been utterly captivated by the Winter Olympics, and had been firing off questions left and right since the opening ceremony.
"Its called the slalom," Terrence replied, laughing at his daughter's look of confusion. "They have to go through a bunch of gates, made up by those flags. Whoever gets through the course the fastest wins."
"Why do they hit the flags though? Doesn't that huwt?"
"I don't know." Terrence thought for a second. "What do you think, hon?"
Terrence's wife made absolutely no reply. The redhead was lost in her own thoughts, yet again. She had thought that, of all people, Megan might have understood her refusal to let Victor Mandrake have anything to do with her theater. Instead, Megan, feeling hurt and betrayed, had stormed out, launching venemous words at Wendy as she did.
The day had only gotten worse from there. Cassie had left with barely a word to her, and even little Theresa had noticed something was dreadfully wrong with her mother. However, any inquiries had been deflected with the standard "mommy's just tired" excuse. Although she was doubtful Theresa had believed her, the little girl had stopped asking questions.
Then came the phone call from Terrence, with the news that his race team had been sold. Wendy had finally broken into sobs over this, and Terrence, still 1,000 miles away, had tried his best to comfort her. After all, its not like the Thompson's wanted for money, and even if they did, the repair shop was booming. Besides, with Terrence off the road, he'd be home more, and thus able to spend time with his "super-mega hot babe of a wife", and their daughter. It had been the one silver lining to an absolutely awful day.
The next morning, as Wendy was trying to settle with the idea that she DIDN'T need to leave for work, Cassie had shown up, handed Wendy a letter of resignation, and left, all without saying a word. Theresa cried for a full hour nonstop after learning she wouldn't be seeing Cassie around anymore.
Terrence arrived home that evening, tired from a long road trip. Wendy felt guilty as she lied to her husband about the theater, saying her reason for dismissal was because the donation check had bounced.
The weekend had been pleasant enough, with the Thompson's heading out to nearby Turkey Run, for a wonderful hike, but Monday had brought back Wendy's woes. At the grocery store, she had ran into two members of the acting troupe, and they had walked away without even acknowledging her.
Later, she had screamed at Theresa, as the little girl had taken to playing "mogul skiier," jumping from side to side as she went down her imaginary hill, just in the Olympics.
Unfortunately, poor Chaunticleer was taking a nap on that hill, and had not been happy when the three year old girl had landed on his tail. The cat had screamed and bolted, knocking over a lamp, and the crash had been what sent Wendy over the edge.
She had later tried to apologize to her daughter, and, after assuring her that mommy still loved her, Theresa had accepted.
Still, she felt now that she could add "mother" to her ever growing list of failings.
"Hon?" Terrence jolted Wendy from her reverie.
"Sorry, I wasn't listening." Wendy confessed.
Terrence leaned toward her, muttering so that Theresa couldn't hear. "Are you okay?"
Wendy tried to smile. "Yeah. I just haven't been feeling well lately."
Terrence nodded. "Something's going around. Everyone at the shop has been out at one point or another. Uncle Steves ticked... we're going through too many kleenexes, in his opinion."
Terrence hadn't been feeling all that hot himself since his race team had been sold, but in contrast to Wendy's lethargic resignation, Terrence had gone down fighting. He had tried everyone he could think, but it didn't seem like he was going to find any success.
Ah well, he could go buy a car, and just run Saturday night weeklies at a nearby short track. At least then he'd have something to do.
"Ohhh!!!" Theresa's shriek startled both Terrence and Wendy back to reality. Looking at the television, they saw American skiier Lindsey Vonn lying face first in the snow, one ski completely detatched and lying beside her.
"That's a shame," Wendy shook her head sadly. "She was leading after the downhill, too."
Terrence nodded. "At least she got her gold yesterday."
"Did that huwt?" Little Theresa asked.
"Probably, Terr-Bear," Wendy replied. "But I'm betting she's more let down than anything."
"I wan be a skiier like Linsie Vonn!" Theresa exclaimed.
"Awesome" Terrence grinned. "She'll get so much practice on our towering Indiana mountains."
Wendy smiled as her daughter began zooming around the room, pretending to be a skiier. She nervously attempted to locate Chaunticleer, but couldn't see the cat anywhere. He was probably up on her bed, napping.
Back on the television screen, a promo for the upcoming men's figure skating finals was on, and Terrence shook his head. Most guys looked down on figure skating, but considering that Terrence's wrestling career had taken him onto the ice (where he had all the grace of a Sherman tank), he had developed quite a bit of respect for anybody who could maneuver as well as figure skaters could.
But dammit, why did all the guys look like goddamned emo fruitcakes?
"You know what watching the pairs last night reminded me of?" His wife interjected into his thoughts.
"Stars on Ice." Terrence replied, reminiscing.
The Stars on Ice match was one of the most deceptively brutal matches the WhirlyBirdz had ever been in. Set in an ice rink, two mixed teams of wrestlers wearing figure skating outfits, fought to be the first team to dump the other two members into the penalty box. The only rule was that kicking was illegal.
Terrence had been forced into the match as the result of Wendy's feud with Misty Xiao. Wendy had failed in her attempt to regain the Cruiserweight title from the Red Angel, thanks to an elaborate scheme enacted by Misty and her Syndicate of Evil buddies to get Wendy disqualified. Seeing one of the Syndicate about to hit her with a briefcase, Wendy had tried to wrestle the briefcase away from him. She succedded, but the momentum of the yank had knocked Wendy off balance, sending the briefcase into Misty's skull.
At least that's what the ref thought.
In reality, the briefcase had missed by a good six inches. But Misty went down, and for added effect, covered her face with her trademark red mist, giving the impression that she had been busted open.
And Wendy Briese, the only person in wrestling history to keep a rulebook in her duffel bag, was disqualified.
Enraged, Wendy burst into the Syndicate's locker room, and demanded a rematch. Misty obliged, but insisted upon the Stars on Ice match first. Even without kicking, the match had been brutal, as ice had zero give. With her boyfriend having zero mobility, Wendy had gotten isolated, destroyed by Misty's Hello Kitty, and dumped into the box. Terrence had gone down valiantly, but eventually Misty and her partner Brigham Smith dumped him in as well.
Despite the loss, it had been an... interesting event. And Wendy had looked damn good in that figure skating outfit. Besides, they got revenge on the whole Syndicate just a week or so later.
Big time.
"Who would have thought that such a gimmicky match would be so... violent?" Wendy asked, remembering how she and Misty had damned near killed each other in that match.
"At least no one kicked." Terrence reminded her. "And for what its worth, we'd have slaughtered any normal figure skating pair."
Wendy smiled at the thought of her and Terrence pummeling some poor Russian duo, then turned back to the television, where the short track speed skating events were about to get underway.
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
Wendy yelped at the sudden banging on the door, and Terrence eyed his wife curiously.
"Who could that be at this hour?" Terrence asked, still eyeing his apparently jumpy wife.
Terrence got up, and sauntered over to the door, flinging it open.
"Pollaski? What the f-"
"TERRY!"
"Are you doing here?"
"Right now? Freezing to death. Can I come in?"
The door closed, and fifteen seconds later, Terrence reappeared in the living room, with Daniel Pollaski following. Wendy noticed that Pollaski was wearing shorts, which hadn't done him any favors in Indy's bitterly cold winter.
"Sorry about not calling, but I was in the area, and I figured to drop by."
"No worries, Dan," the normally hospitable Wendy smiled. "We're just watching the Olympics. You want to stay the night?"
It was obvious from the get go that this was what Daniel had been angling for, but he pretended to mill over it for just a second.
"Okay, but just for tonight," Pollaski agreed, as Terrence.motioned for him to sit down. "I gotta get to Pennsylvania for the AW show tomorrow. Chris Cannon says he has a 'surprise' for me. Hooray."
"I take it you've had your fill of surprises for the week." Terrence said.
Pollaski rolled his eyes. "If you're talking about the High Octane and DREAM pullout, then yeah. It's been a mess. I'm not even doing a column this week, because I don't want to say anything about this mess that will end up reflecting badly on the alliance."
Terrence and Wendy looked at each other in shock. Considering that Pollaski had once sang an extremely offensive song about a rival wrestler's girlfriend being attacked, pulling punches wasn't Dan's style.
Theresa ran back into the room, and broke into a smile as she saw the portly columnist. "Danoo Powaski!" She shrieked.
"Hey sport," Pollaski grinned. "What have you been up to?"
"She's been training for the 2026 winter Olympics" Terrence chortled. "She wants to be a skiier."
"Ah," Pollaski smirked. "A regular Picabo Street, I see."
"Who?" Theresa asked, and Dan laughed.
"Oh, man, now I feel old."
Theresa nestled back on the floor as on the television another heat of speed.skaters were preparing to run.
"So whats with the sudden concern about the backlash from your comments?" Terrence asked.
Pollaski shrugged. "We can't afford any more bad publicity, and, well, anything negative I say will just be sour grapes."
"Still, it just seems weird to hear you say that."
"I've never been concerned about what my comments make people think about me," Pollaski said with a shrug. "And I really never cared how it supposedly reflected on you guys either, because anyone who thought that my opinions matched yours was an idiot."
Wendy rolled her eyes at this. It had always seemed to be HER that people had gotten mad at for Pollaski's uncouth remarks. She liked Daniel, but man, did he give her headaches.
"But my job right now is to promote the alliance." Pollaski said. "And while I can be provocative, if I get inflammitory, it might be counterproductive."
"So the alliance isn't doing well?" Wendy asked.
"On the surface, its doing great." Pollaski said. "Shows are selling out, ratings are rising, heck, Defiance pulled their show off of HoTV, and TWELVE cable networks were there with contracts. If this keeps up, Summer Games Eleven is gonna break records."
"Then what's wrong?" Wendy asked.
"I'll be honest. Behind the scenes, its not all rosy. No one seems to want to work TOGETHER. Appy and Defiance are at war, PWX keeps completely to themselves. Missouri Valley's ladies are even more insular, if that's possible. WMW is starting to get out, but its a slow process."
Terrence and Wendy nodded. Back in the days of the Birdz, almost every show seemed to have some sort of interregional match on it. Heck, the Birdz had spent one summer as practical free agents, since interregional demands were so high.
"And there aren't any heroes anymore." Pollaski continued. "There isn't any Ryan Coreys or Mike Bells. Yeah, each region has their own guys the fans love, but on a national level, there's Cobra, and that's it. And Cobra's hardly a loveable guy."
Dan looked Terrence hard in the eye, then Wendy. "The alliance needs heroes."
Wendy laughed, and looked away. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to recruit us."
"That's EXACTLY what I'm trying to do." Pollaski said. "I heard about your theater, and your race team. And I'm sorry. But guys, if there ever was a time for the WhirlyBirdz to walk into the WWA and take it by storm, it is now."
Terrence shook his head. "Its been five years, dude."
"I know." Dan replied. "But I'm not saying we show up on Defiance next week, and punk Team Asterisk. You guys would take a month or two, get back in shape, then weo find a postion to make an enormous impact."
"But..." Wendy started.
"Can you honestly say you did all you wanted the first time around? Terrence, haven't you always wanted another crack at the World Title? Wendy, didn't you want to prove you could hang with the top echelon of the Alliance? Wouldn't you want a third tag team title reign?"
Dan looked straight at Terrence.
"What about finally overcoming your Summer Games curse?"
"Stop it, Dan" Wendy snapped, beckoning to Theresa, who, thanks to Apollo Anton Ohno, was completely oblivious to the conversation. "We have a daughter now. How would she react if she saw us out there, being beaten down? And if, god forbid, something happened to us, who would take care of her?"
"You wouldn't be the first wrestlers with children" Dan said calmly. "And Theresa doesn't have to watch you guys.."
"I... just don't think we can, Dan."
Terrence turned to his wife, a lopsided smile on his face.
"Why not?"
"What?" Wendy was aghast.
"Look hon, with your theater gone, and some spoiled brat off driving MY race car, we're treading water. And as.much as I love T&T auto... I don't know if I want to work a garage my whole life. And Wendy, do you really want to just be a housewife?"
"But..."
"And you're only twenty-eight, and I'm thirty-one in less than three weeks. That's hardly too old, and we've taken great care of ourselves."
Wendy was at a complete loss for words. "I...I..."
"Well, it looks like you're in, Terrence, so let me know when you want to st-"
"Nah-unh." Terrence shook his head. "I'm not doing this without Wendy. Either we're both on board, or not at all."
Pollaski felt himself deflating, as both he and Terrence turned towards the flustered redhead.
Wendy gulped. "I don't know. Can I think about it?"
Pollaski nodded. "Just don't take too long."
Theresa shrieked with delight, and all three adults turned towards the screen, where the figure skating was about to begin.
Pollaski sighed. "You know, I get how what they do is impressive, but why do they all have to look like emo fruitcakes?"
"That's what I'm saying..." Terrence grumbled.
"Shhh!" Wendy hissed.
"Twenty bucks an American wins." Pollaski muttered to Terrence.
"Deal..." Terrence agreed, before cringing. He now had money on this stupid thing.
He was gonna have to pay attention.
Damned emo fruitcakes.
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