Sunday July 4, 2010
RV- Main Cabin
Independence, Missouri
2:15 PM Local Time
Dear Wendy,
My name is Kaylee and I am eight years old. You and Valerie are my favorite wrestlers in the whole world! I wish you would team together. Then you would have no problems with that big meanie Mandrake. I hope you like my picture!
Wendy smiled as she pulled out a picture, showing two stick-figures with red hair and a much bigger stick figure with long black hair. She held the picture up for the rest of the room to see. “What do you think this is of?”
Saturday’s autograph session had gone down without a hitch, and at least a couple hundred people had shown up to meet and greet with the soon-to-be PWX Tag Team Champions. All in all, the session had gone on for a couple hours, and both Terrence and Wendy had a blast mixing it up with their fans. After the session was over, however, the Birdz were approached by a PWX employee carrying two book boxes chalk full of envelopes.
Irritably, the employee had thrust the boxes into the shocked Birdz arms, and then walked away. After looking inside, both Birdz realized that they had just gotten about three months worth of fan mail dumped in their lap.
Now, the Birdz aren’t the kind of people who ignore their fans, but nor are they the type who feel the need to respond to every single letter they recieve. So, this morning, the sorting had begun. On the table, Dan Pollaski (his own small stack of envelopes sitting next to him- hey, some people love him!) and Cassie DeSlair were sorting mail to whether it was for Terrence, Wendy or both. In turn, each Bird would read their mail, then place it into either a “Respond” or “Don’t Respond” pile. Meanwhile, Theresa sat on the hide-a-bed couch, watching “Thomas the Tank Engine” on the television.
The bustle in the room halted as the other occupants in the room stopped to look at Wendy’s picture. Pollaski was the first to speak up.
“Looks like it’s you kicking Victor Mandrake in the nuts while Valerie Belmont bites him in the neck.” Pollaski said matter-of-factly.
“Don’t be vulgar, Dan,” Wendy snapped, turning the picture around to look at it again. “An eight year old wouldn’t draw- oh... that IS what it is.”
“Heh, let’s hope THAT never happens,” Terrence chuckled. “The last thing the world needs is for Valerie to be turning Victor Mandrake into an immortal vampire. Although the prospect of him combusting in the sunlight WOULD be a plus.”
The rest of the room laughed at the thought of Victor Mandrake bursting into flames, and Wendy, now smiling, placed the letter in her “Respond” pile (which by now was about three times the size of the “Don’t Respond”) She then reached for another envelope, carefully ripping it open.
“What’s this?” Terrence asked as he opened a large manilla envelope. Opening it, he pulled out what looked very much to be a comic book. “Wow...” he said admirably, holding it up. The cover was a manga-style drawing of Terrence, Wendy, and Pollaski, although strangely enough, Pollaski and Terrence were standing determinedly in the foreground, while Wendy had been relegated to the background.
Even so, Wendy was fairly impressed. “I can’t believe someone would put in the time and effort to draw us in a comic book.”
“You guys have your own doujinshi!” Cassie said brightly, reaching out for the comic.
“Doe-on-the-what-now?” Terrence asked, handing the book over.
“Unauthorized fan comic,” Pollaski translated, looking at Cassie in surprise. “I didn’t know you were into anime.”
“I watched a lot of it when I was younger,” Cassie said as she began to flip through the pages of the book.
A letter had come with the book, and Terrence unfolded it, reading it aloud.
Dear Terrence, Dan, and Wendy
My name is Iris, and I’m about to be a sophmore at Evergreen State College in Washington. I’ve been a huge fan of you guys ever since I was a little girl. I made this for an art class I was in as my final project, and I wanted to send you a copy. I love you, Terrence, and I hope that you beat the hell out of Jacob Wright!!
“Heh, Terrence said, easily dropping the letter into his own “Respond” pile. “Guess we should check our mail more often.”
“Omigod!” Cassie shrieked in a high pitched voice, forcing everyone in the room, including Theresa, to stare at her. Blushing crimson, she began to laugh.
“What’s going on?” Terrence demanded, looking at his nanny.
“It... it’s one of THOSE doujinshi’s” Cassie managed to eek out through her laughter.
“Huh?” Now Terrence was thoroughly confused, and he looked at Cassie with an expression that he was clearly starting to question her sanity. Instead of even trying to formulate a response, Cassie handed the comic, still open to its current page, to Terrence, who took one look and screamed.
“What?” Pollaski said, leaning in to look over Terrence’s shoulder. “WOW.”
Terrence said nothing, just stared at the comic in absolute horror.
“How come YOU get to be on top?” Pollaski whined.
“Probably because you’d crush him!” Cassie choked out between her fits of laughter, drawing a dirty glare from the portly manager.
“THAT’S THE MOST YOU FIND WRONG WITH THIS?” Terrence screamed incredulously.
“Can I wook?” Theresa asked, walking over to the table where everyone else but Wendy was sitting.
“NO!” everyone screamed, and Terrence slammed the book shut lest the daughter see the contents.
Wendy walked over to the table and grabbed the comic book, blushing crimson as she saw what was inside. “Why...”
Meanwhile, Terrence shoved his manager out of the way, and stormed over to a nearby cupboard, pulling out one of the lighting wand’s that had been intended for fireworks. “Give me the book,” he demanded.
“No,” Wendy protested, setting the comic on the table, and standing protectively in front of it. “She obviously put time and effort into this, and even if we don’t like what’s in it, we are going to be grateful that someone thinks so highly of us that they would make that.”
“Yeah, and they thought REALLY highly of you, Terrence,” Pollaski snickered.
Cassie’s laughter redoubled at the off-hand remark, and even Wendy couldn’t keep herself from giggling as she blushed a deeper shade of crimson. Terrence waved the lighting wand at Pollaski, rage now on his face. “If you say one more word, you’re fired,” he said with deadly seriousness, then turned to his wife. “I’m not keeping that... THING.” he protested.
“It’s the thought that counts, Terrence,” Wendy scolded.
“AND WE ALL VERY WELL KNOW WHAT SHE’S BEEN THINKING!” Terrence bellowed.
“Speaking of which, where did it go?” Pollaski suddenly asked, pointing to the table. Both Terrence and Wendy turned around, and saw that save for a couple of unopened envelopes, the RV’s table was empty.
A zipping sound caught all of them by surprised, and the Birdz whirled as one towards Cassie DeSlair, who was quickly zipping up her duffel bag.
“What?” Cassie shrugged at the blank expressions of disbelief on her employers’ faces. “It’s not like any of you wanted it.”
Sunday July 4, 2010
Mormon Visitor Center
Independence, Missouri
8:35 PM Local Time
[So, when you name your city Independence, you better have one HELL of a fireworks show on the fourth of July. That’s what the Birdz are hoping as they have headed out to the local show. The scene opens in the middle of a large grassy field, not too far from the visitor center. Several thousand people have occupied the field, and blankets and lawn chairs can be seen spreading for at least a quarter mile in every direction. In the midst of it all sits the WhirlyBirdz, who have set up a blanket and lawn chairs of their own, and of course, a tripod for the camera. Right now, Terrence and Wendy are sitting in two of the chairs, although Cassie, Pollaski, and Theresa are off getting rootbeer floats.]
Wendy- “Good evening, everyone! Before Terrence cuts his last promo for Do or Die, we have an important announcement to make.”
[Terrence scoffs at this, and Wendy shoots him a slightly dark look, then goes back to smiling at the camera, obviously choosing her words carefully.]
Wendy- “Terrence and I greatly appreciate our fans. Without you coming out, and cheering us and the PWX on, we couldn’t do what we do. So thank you all for your support. We especially appreciate those who have taken their time and effort to write us letters or draw us pictures. We are flattered that so many of you think enough of us to invest your creativity on our behalf.”
[Slight pause, and Wendy shoots a sidelong glance at her husband.]
Wendy- “However, we would like to remind everyone that we have a three year old daughter. So please, if you send something in, please keep it PG-rated at the most, and we appreciate your understanding on the mat-”
Twister- “AND NO GAY STUFF!”
[Wendy’s cut off in mid sentence by the interruption, pauses for just a second, then turns slowly to regard her husband, her face turning redder by the second.]
Wendy- “Terrence...”
Twister- “Look, if you are, fine. There’s nothing wrong with that. But let’s get one thing straight here. And I do mean STRAIGHT. Terrence Thompson ain’t NOBODY’s ‘Pushin’ Cushion!’”
Wendy- “TERRENCE!”
[Wendy now has an expression on her face that could be best described as ‘utmost horror’, while Terrence looks fairly irritated.]
Wendy- “Are you done?”
Twister- “I just wanted to make sure everyone’s on the same page here. And NOT page twenty-three of that...”
[He stops at Wendy’s angry glare, and grins sheepishly.]
Twister- “Sorry. Anyways... so, tomorrow night is Do Or Die Three. The night when the WhirlyBirdz... will you stop looking at me like that?”
[The last of this is said to Wendy, who’s still seething with indignation at her husband (not like this is anything new). Finally, Wendy relaxes her steely gaze, and Terrence finds it’s safe enough to continue.]
Twister- “Thank you. So in less than twenty-four hours, the curtain will rise on Do Or Die Three. What a show it’s going to be. Wendy and I face the Kings Among men for the Tag Team Titles. Danny Szatkowski finally gets to rid himself of that piece of shit John Ojeda, and Brian Hollywood and Darin Zion lock themselves in a steel cage and bore us to death.”
[Ouch. Harshy-ness.]
Twister- “And of course, our illustrious champion Jacob Wright faces Jeremiah Belmont for the Grand Prix Championship. I have to say I’m a bit flattered by the buildup to this match. After all, when the champion of your fed spends an entire promo talking about how he beat you, you know you’re a big deal. Its almost like he’s getting ready to face me for the title, not Jeremiah.”
[Terrence sharply turns towards his wife.]
Twister- “He’s not, right? They haven’t changed the match or anything?”
[Wendy shakes her head.]
Wendy- “Not to my knowledge.”
Twister- “Cool. Cause that’d be pretty damn short notice. Not that I’d turn down a Grand Prix title shot, mind you.”
[Hint, hint]
Twister- “But thank you Jacob. I am truly touched that your victory over me meant that much to you. I still hope Jeremiah Rapture’s you back to the stone age, but now I might actually feel bad for you when it happens.”
[Grin]
Twister- “As far as my match goes, what else is there to say? John Pariah’s probably off trying to figure out how to cut a promo via Twitter, and Michael Norcia has turned his focus to the living legend, Sami Jacobs. I suppose that’s understandable. Wendy and I- we’re generally not out to hurt you. We’ll kick your ass enough to get the ‘dubya’, but we don’t go around looking to put our opponents in the hospital. Sami, well, if he could, he would. Unfortunately for Sami, he can’t. But nonetheless, it’s clear that the Hand of God would rather wrap his fingers around two King of the Death Match points than his tag titles, and considering the inevitable consequence of that, I can’t complain.”
[Another grin accompanied by a chuckle from the Mechanical Mayhem.]
Twister- “Just do me a favor tonight. Give those belts a good wipe down before our match tomorrow. When Wendy and I put them around our waist, I want them to fucking GLEAM. And please let us know which one was Norcia’s. Mike’s probably got the stench of Jack Daniels all over the thing, so I’ll take that one so that my wife doesn’t have to deal with the smell.”
[What a gentleman!]
Twister- “But for now, I think I’ll just settle for wishing everyone out there a happy and safe Fourth of July. We’ll see you all tomorrow.”
[As the camera fades, Pollaski, Theresa, and Cassie return into the view, carrying five large root beer floats between them. Terrence and Wendy reach for theirs... and we hit black.]
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