EPISODE 29: Bedridden

EPISODE 29: BEDRIDDEN

Wednesday July 21, 2010
The Nest- Master Bedroom
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:14 PM Local Time

Wendy Briese-Thompson clutched her stomach in agony, and stared up at the ceiling of the master bedroom. There was little doubt in her mind that she was dying. After returning to Indianapolis on Tuesday afternoon, both Wendy and Terrence had found themselves hardly in a cooking mood. So after a quick deliberation, they had agreed to try the brand new Vietnamese restaurant that had opened over on Meridian Street. Having found their culinary selections within their hometown growing stale over the past few years, Wendy was excited at the opportunity to try a new and exciting meal.

That excitement had become somewhat tempered at about two o’clock this morning, when Wendy awoke with the distinct impression that the pork in her entree might not have been properly cooked. After spending the rest of the night paying homage at the porcelain altar, Wendy had finally managed to crawl back into her bed at eight this morning, curled up into the fetal position, and tried to sleep.

Almost six hours later, that sleep had still eluded her, and the young redhead lay awake, entertaining dark fantasies involving herself, the owner of that restaurant, and her Banshee finishing maneuver. Terrence had ran to the drug store for Pepto-Bismol and Ginger Ale, taking Theresa with him, which at least afforded her some peace and quiet.

She felt like such a wuss. She had wrestled in countless matches, taken so many blows, and bumps, and holds, and the only thing she could think of that could even come close to this agony was her labor with Theresa. Maybe she was in labor again, she thought darkly. Maybe any minute, an alien lifeform would burst forth from her stomach, and eat her face off. She actually was looking forward to it- at least then she’d get some rest...

She hissed as another spasm of pain burst forth from her abdomen, and she clutched her stomach almost ripping holes in her nightdress with her fingernails as she did so. On her honor, if this was ecoli or something else that made her miss ring time...

“You look like death,” came the voice of the ghost who now hovered beside her bed.

Given her condition, it was impossible for Wendy to jump in alarm from the voice, but she did give a start, and turned forward, squinting at the translucent specter of Rick Logan. Groaning, she flopped back on her pillow and covered her eyes. “Go away, Rick,” she moaned.

“I can’t do that right now Wendy.” He told her. “I really need your help.”

The seriousness of Rick’s tone alarmed her, and Wendy removed her arm from over her eyelids. Turning her head sideways, she looked over at her deceased friend. “Now?” she asked, incredulously.

“As much as I would love to leave you be at this moment so you can sleep, yes, it has to be now.” He said.

Gritting her teeth in pain, Wendy slowly worked her way to a sitting position on the bed, smoothing out her nightgown as she did. Rubbing her puffy, red eyes, Wendy looked over at Rick, concern setting in. Ever since he had appeared to her just before Summer Games, her rare visits from Rick had always seen the ghost in a good mood- a much better mood than he normally had been in real life. But today, things seemed to be different.

“What’s going on, Rick?” Wendy asked quietly.

“It’s Jake.” The ghost said with a sigh. “He’s following a bit too much in my footsteps.”

Jake Donovan was another wrestler, currently contracted out to Defiance Wrestling. The younger brother of the ghost now flittering before her, merely months ago, Jake had been a promising young talent in the wrestling world. Wendy had met the young man a couple times, and found him likeable enough, but she had heard dark whisperings from some about him.

Wendy shook her head, confused. “How? He hasn’t been in any death matches... at least from what I’ve seen.”

The ghost chuckled.

“Not that,” the ghost said, “hell, right now, I’d be wishing for that. It’s much worse. I used....ALOT and for quite a number of years, and now Jake is using too, or at the very least, he’s done it once that I know about and talked about doing it far more than that.

Wendy nodded somberly. “I had heard the rumors,” she said quietly. With a growing wave of shame, Wendy realized she hadn’t even seen Donovan since that day in the pizza parlor. They hadn’t even met at Summer Games, when they were in the same building. “I’m sorry, Rick. I promised I would check up on him... I’ve just been so busy,” she lamented.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “You’d think the dumb kid would know better after the things he watched me do, guess I didn’t set a very good example for him, but right now, I’m just worried about him continuing to take them and destroying himself in the process.”

Wendy nodded silently, fighting down another wave of nausea as she did. “What about the Angel of Death?” she asked, unable to keep the sarcasm completely from her voice. The old veteran had taken Jake Donovan under his wing, but from what Wendy had seen, she had completely disapproved of the training tactics he had utilized. The methods he had resorted to seemed- cruel to her. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least if the Angel of Death had turned Donovan to substance abuse.

“He’ll keep Jake in condition to fight, but his disapproval of Jake’s use was conveyed in the form of threat of ditching him and not training him anymore. I can tell you from experience, Threats arn’t what’s needed. Micheal used to threaten me all the time, in the end, it’s what broke up the Dark Angels.” The ghost said.

“And you think I can succeed where everyone else has failed?” Wendy asked, looking fairly skeptical.

“Yes,” he said “I think you can, and I’ll tell you why. Jake needs a friend, not someone to lecture him and not someone to threaten him. He lives in his car wherever he decides to park it, and he thinks that in order to be the best, he can’t have any sort of a life outside of the ring. So he drives, and he goes to AOD and trains, and he constantly teeters on the edge of shoving another needle in his arm.”

“That’s not the energetic young rookie I met in Pittsburgh,” Wendy said, shooting a sidelong glance at Rick.

“That’s not the kid that I lived with and trained with and hung out with for three years in Japan either.” Rick said. “He drove out into the desert like I used to do, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be looking for, just that he’s either looking for something or looking to run away, and you know, for him the easiest way to run is going to be to put something in his arm.”

Wendy nodded silently. “But, Rick,” she protested. “I couldn’t stop you from putting a gun in your mouth. I can’t even stop Theresa from sneaking Oreos before dinner! How could I possibly stop Jake from doing drugs?”

The ghost chuckled.

“Let me ask you something. If I had called you, and told you I was going to stick a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger, what would you have done?” he asked.

“I...” Wendy paused, and looked at her spectral friend. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I guess I would have begged you not to. I would have told you that you still had a lot to live for.”

“And in doing so, you would have reminded me how selfish I was being.” He told her. “So the next time Teresa steals oreos, gently remind her that by stealing them before its time for a treat, she might be stopping someone else from getting a treat later because they’ll quickly be all gone. Kids have a sense of fair play that adults have mostly lost. As for Jake, I doubt he thinks anyone really cares what he does, or whether he destroys himself or not. Maybe all he needs is to be reminded that he’s hurting someone besides himself.”

“But why can’t you do it?” Wendy asked. “If you can appear to me like this, surely you can to him as well.”

“I do appear to him.” Rick said. “But it seems to have an adverse effect. Everytime I show up, it just makes him miss me more. Last time I popped in on him, he tried to off himself thinking he could join me.”

“Oh, God,” Wendy muttered under her breath. But then she sighed, and looked Rick directly in the eye. “I’m honored that you think I’m the one to perform this task, Rick. And I’ll do what I can. Just please don’t think less of me if I fail.”

He gave her a lopsided smile.

“If you fail, it just means that’s what was meant to happen, a tragic legacy, when you think about it, especially after what happened to Scott.” Rick told her.

“So no pressure, then.” Wendy quipped. She sighed. “Well, if you have any ideas how I’m to go about doing this... don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Not a clue,” he told her with a shake of his head. “Never did find anything that worked for me.”

With that he vanished.

Wendy stared at the spot where the spirit had been and sighed. This was hardly a task she was looking forward to, but she did owe it to her friend to do the best she could. Wendy settled back down on her pillow, once again staring up at the ceiling as she tried to find a way to accomplish what had been set before her. Maybe if she... no. What about... wouldn’t work. But... not likely.

As she drifted off to sleep, so intent was Wendy on her newfound problem that she had failed to notice her stomach had stopped hurting.







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Thursday July 22, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
8:41 PM Local Time

[Well, luckily for our heroine, Wendy’s food poisoning episode lasted a little less than twenty-four hours. Wendy awoke from her nap Wednesday evening feeling better, and by Thursday morning, she was back to training again. Meanwhile, she called the offending restaurant to complain, and was told she would be getting vouchers for a free meal in the mail. There’s probably fairly good odds she won’t be using those.]

[Anyways, we’re in the Birdz’ living room, looking at a well-rested and rejuvenated Wendy Briese. She, as usual, sits in the couch, dressed in a knee-legnth green skirt, and a pale green short-sleeved top. There’s a little something different about Wendy. Unlike the normally rigid position she sits in, Wendy looks... a bit relaxed. And while she has that customary warm smile splashed across her face, there’s a bit of smugness to it as well. Who knew the girl had an ego?]

Wendy: “It is inevitable that good will one day triumph over evil.”

[A small grin from Wendy. It’s fairly obvious she’s relishing her victory from the past week over Brian Hollywood]

Wendy: “I’ve always held firm to that belief that if one plays by the rules and works hard, they will one day get their due, and Monday night, that happened. For two months now, Brian Hollywood has used every trick he could possibly think of to evade my grasp, and Monday night, finally, the Executive ran out of room to manuever. Just like what Danny Szatkowski did to John Ojeda, when it came down to it, the right way prevailed.”

[It should be noted that Wendy by no means views her victory over Hollywood as anywhere approaching the monumental victory that Szatkowski had over Ojeda at Do Or Die. But still, Wendy knows Ojeda’s one of Hollywood’s running buddies now, and she can’t resist rubbing a little extra salt in the wound. What? She’s got a vindictive side, she just doesn’t like to show it too much.]

Wendy: “I’ll admit, what happened Monday Night will likely hardly matter in the grand scheme of things. A cruicifix roll-up is hardly the most dominating, fan pleasing way to win a match, and I’d be a fool to think that what happened will end the threat Brian Hollywood poses to the integrity of professional wrestling. But when the history book on Pro-Wrestling X is written, and the chapter of the Brian Hollywood is penned, the author will have no choice but to mention that in his very first week in power, after all the corrupt moves he had made to solidify his holdings on PWX, Brian Hollywood fell by my hand in that night’s main event.”

[But she’s sure showing that vindictive side today. Go Wendy go!

Wendy: “I suppose, given that context, I can understand the post-match actions of Brian. Obivously, he was frustrated with the outcome, and he needed to take that out on someone. After all, when children throw their tantrums, they do tend to go for the closest thing they can find. What Hollywood did to me was little more than a childish outburst from a sore loser. A desperate plea for attention, as Brian Hollywood begins to realize that his relevance will soon be confined to the title deed he holds in his hand.”

[Wendy pauses, and takes a deep breath, a little bit of color entering her cheeks. Her smile fades, just a bit, and her emerald eyes lose a significant amount of their shine.]

Wendy: “While I can easily dismiss Brian’s actions as the raving of an immature child, I cannot overlook the actions of another man quite as easily.”

[Another deep breath by Wendy, and it’s obvious she’s not happy about this at all.]

Wendy: “Wild, what exactly is your problem with Terrence and I? Before Do or Die, the three of us had never even been under the same roof together. But you’ve turned to us, venom dripping from every word you speak about us in your promos. You’ve accosted me in a hallway over words that did not concern you in the slightest. You stood at ringside, insulting the effort I gave in the biggest win of my PWX singles career. And then you attacked me from behind during my moment of triumph.”

[Yeah, its safe to say this is about as pissed off as one normally sees Wendy Briese. And considering that she’s an Irish redhead, that’s saying a ton.]

Wendy: “Edward, your actions over the past couple of weeks have confused me. From what i’ve seen of your career, you have never concerned yourself much with the tag division. And yet, despite having zero connection to the straps Terrence and I now hold, you are so quick to declare the WhirlyBirdz disgraces. Before we have even had the opportunity to defend these titles, you have leapt at the chance to criticize us.”

[Wendy slowly leans forward, her slightly narrowed eyes never blinking or leaving the camera.]

Wendy: “Wild, what I’m about to tell you holds true for any member of the PWX roster. There is no need to resort to cheapshots, back attacks, and empty threats. If you have a problem with Terrence and I holding the PWX World Tag Team Championsips, you are more than welcome to do something about it. Find a partner, issue a challenge, and lets set a date. Terrence and I are fighting champions, and we’ll be more than happy to take on anyone who has an issue with our reign.”

[And thus, the challenge delivered, Wendy relaxes ever so slightly, and a slight smile even comes across her face.]

Wendy: “Two brave souls already have stepped up.”

[A bit of excitement dances in her eyes. No match is more important to Wendy than a title defense, where she has to prove that she deserves the belt she holds.]

Wendy: “Scott Styles, and Xander Crewes. Two men, almost complete opposites of each other, who were thrown together as a makeshift team for a Battle Royal at Do Or Die. And yet, they managed to work well enough together to emerge from that match the victors, and earn a chance to face us.”

[Wendy’s smile drops just a smidge as she gets to the subject of Scott Styles. Given his… attitude, it’s understandable why Wendy isn’t too thrilled to have to deal with him.]

Wendy: “The tale of Scott Styles is a sad one. Not of his divorce- that is an unfortunate tale that has been told too many times over in this day and age. But Scott seems intent on being the most miserable person he can possibly be. His weekly prophecies of his own demise are interspersed with images of him lying intoxicated in grimy back alleys. He refuses to look for the positives in his life, and so his downward spiral continues. “

[The sparkle in Wendy’s eye returns as she moves on to Styles’ partner]

Wendy: “Xander Crewes is at the other end of the spectrum. Looking at the history of this young man, it is obvious he is living his dream. He has entered into every match with the passion of a true fighter, and thus far it has served him well. He has even managed to gain a victory over my most hated nemesis, Victor Mandrake, and for that, I certainly applaud him.”

[And she’d LOVE to know how the hell he managed to pull that out…]

Wendy: “The big question is, with such disparate personalities, how will both men react in the heat of the match? Will Xander’s enthusiasm and desire to leave it all in the ring break Scott from his doldrums? Or will Styles’ constant pessimism grate on Xander’s nerves, causing an irreparable splinter between the two men? They worked together well enough at Do Or Die, but that match was hardly one to push their talents to the limit. Can they keep it together in the heat of battle against Terrence and I?”

[Wendy shrugs, as she knows not the answer.]

Wendy: “To beat a team such as Terrence and I, teamwork will be required, and even then, it is no guarantee. It is with good reason that the WhirlyBirdz are considered one of the best tag teams in the world. The list of teams that have managed to beat us is small, and we fully intend on keeping it that way. And never have we lost a tag team championship on our very first defense. The bond Terrence and I share is indestructible, both inside the ring and out. I’ve already said it, but as talented as we both are individually, together we are that much more powerful.”

[Although Wendy’s words might be interpreted as boasting, she states them calmly, as if she is merely supporting a conclusion with evidence. Then she breaks into another warm smile.]

Wendy: “Either way, I wish them the best of luck. I’m always ready to welcome a challenge, and I feel confident that our opponents will provide one. But I feel even more confident that when the day is done, it will be the WhirlyBirdz standing victorious in the ring. After seven years without a tag team title reign, I have no intention of losing our belts three weeks after finally winning them.”

[Wendy stands up, and heads towards the camera.]

Wendy: “I’ll see you all on Monday”

[Wendy reaches the camera, and shuts it off, and the screen goes completely black]