MAY 16, 2010
SOUTH POINT ARENA
LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
8:43 PM LOCAL TIME
"And his tag team partner. Weighing in at 130 lbs. and hailing from Indianapolis, Indiana. She is one-half of the WhirlyBirdz, Wendy BRIESE!!!"
The crowd rose to its feet, roaring its approval of the plucky redhead as she stepped out onto the stage. From the seventeenth row, Terrence Thompson did likewise, beaming in excitement. It had been nearly a week since Wendy and Victor had departed from the Valparaiso arena for Mandrake's castle for a week of training. Even having left for Vegas early for a minivacation, this had been one of the longest weeks of his life.
Next to him, his daughter was also on her feet, although the only thing the little girl could see was the back of the people in front of her. Terrence grabbed her, and lifted her up, so that Theresa could also see her mother, returning to their lives in a shower of green and gold pyrotechnics. He had originally planned to see Wendy before the show, but their flight had arrived late, and security had ushered him away before their arrival. So he had sat in the stands, barely paying attention to the opening matches, waiting for this one moment; a chance to lay eyes on his wife one more time.
But he paused as Wendy began her walk down the ramp to the ring. His cheers died away, although the other twenty thousand fans in the arena continued their roar of support for Wendy. Something wasn't right. Wendy was walking stiffly, and there was a definite grimace behind her smile. She was in pain, and he had absolutely no doubt as to the cause.
The match began, and Terrence watched as Wendy battered Jesse James around the ring with a series of slaps and kicks, but he thought he saw her wince as she delivered each blow. Then she had James in a side headlock, but an elbow to her ribs forced her to double over. Terrence stirred angrily in his seat. Such a pitiful shot shouldn't have hurt Wendy so bad. What the hell was going on?
Wendy tagged out to Mandrake, and Terrence watched her. While she watched Mandrake work, and encouraged her partner, she was massaging her back in pain. Terrence's teeth ground as he observed her- she hadn't taken a single shot to the back all match! But there was an injury there, one she was fighting through. One that hadn't been there last week. One that could only have happened while Wendy was at Castle Mandrake.
What the fuck had Victor Mandrake done to his wife?
Terrence's eyes narrowed, and he folded his arms across his chest. He continued to watch the match, but he didn't see his wife running virtual circles around Jesse James and Joe Drago. He didn't realize his wife was pulling off one of the best matches of her career. He just saw every wince, every grimace, every massage to an injury, and his anger only deepened.
How the hell could he have allowed this? What kind of husband was he to allow his wife to spend a week in the home of a man who had imprisoned and tortured her? What kind of husband would he be, if he let the torture she had obviously sustained at Mandrake's hand this time around go unpunished. And if Victor and Wendy won this tournament, that tag title would bind them together, and what then? More weeks in Castle Mandrake? More brutal beatings that would leave her in a worse shape than she was now? What the hell kind of husband would he be then?
This wasn't going any further, he decided. It was time for him to free his wife from that monster's clutches. It was going to fucking end tonight.
"Watch her!" Terrence barked at Cassie DeSlair, who sat two seats over, watching the match. Cassie jumped, and looked at the irate ex-auto racer, who curtly beckoned to his daughter, and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Cassie asked, astonished that Terrence would leave in the middle of his wife's match. But Terrence was already gone, heading down the stairs.
********************
Wendy Briese never saw the bicycle kick coming.
One minute she was dropkicking Joe Drago in the knee, the next, she saw Jesse James' foot flying into her face, and she was staggering back, clutching her cheek where the kick had connected. She then found herself battered by a series of rapid forearm strikes, and the next thing she knew, another kick had rammed into the back of her skull, and she was lying flat on the mat.
In truth, she didn't think she was doing too badly. James and Drago were tough opponents, but so far, she had been frustrating them with her blinding speed, while for the most part avoiding serious damage herself (although that fireman's gut buster had knocked the wind out of her.) She and Victor had been steadily wearing their opponents down, and the fact that James had come charging into the ring illegaly told her he suspected what she did-Joe Drago was one or two good shots away from being done.
But right now, she was in a bit of a situation, flat on her back, with Joe Drago standing over her...
YIPES!!!
Realizing what was going to happen, she rolled to the side as Drago's legdrop barely missed catching her in the throat. She smiled as she heard Drago's grunt of frustration and pain at the miss. But she wasn't out of the woods yet: Jesse James was quickly closing in on her. She looked to her corner and saw she was close, diving at Victor's outstreched hand, and hearing the rewarding *smack*. Victor stepped over her as Wendy rolled to the apron, then her feet, holding her back and grimacing. It was still sore and bruised from her brutal training sessions with Victor, but so far it hadn't affected her performance. Victor, for his part, was working through his own injuries, and Wendy surpressed a smile as she noticed the extremely slight limp Victor had gotten from her leg kicks, as he stormed over to James, powerbombing him to the outside.
Wendy suddenly tensed, and her heart began to race. James was now down on the outside, in a pretty bad way from the looks of things. Victor was lining Drago up for a chokeslam... if he hit this- she might not even need to stop a breakup attempt.
She smiled. They were going to the finals!!!
Unfortunately, so intent was her gaze upon Mandrake and Drago that she failed to notice the lone man slipping over the barricade.
*************************
Terrence stood at the edge of the barricade, and glanced around warily. Good, all the security guards were looking elsewhere, so he should have no problem getting into that ring. He smiled as Wendy dove, and tagged Mandrake in, making him the legal man. For just a split second, his resolve wavered, as some remote part of his brain screamed that he was about to do something extremely stupid. But then he looked over at his wife, standing on the apron, again wincing at her agitating back, and he knew he had to get his wife away from this monster as fast he could. Slowly he pulled out the tire iron that he had stashed inside his pant leg. He had hoped he didn’t need it, but he had vowed that if Mandrake had injured his wife in any way, there would be punishment, and it was time to keep that vow.
Mandrake was in the ring, gazing with sadistic amusement at the fallen form of Joe Drago, struggling to get to his feet. Terrence timed it just as Mandrake grabbed the stunned Drago by the throat. Vaulting over the barricade, he was under the bottom rope before the security guards could do anything about it. Mandrake had Drago suspended in the air, and saw the Mechanical Mayhem coming. He released Joe, and turned toward his attacker, but it was too late.
“TERRY! NO!” he heard a feminine voice shriek from behind him, but he didn’t care. The tire iron smashed into Victor Mandrake’s skull with a sickening thud, and Terrence smiled as the enormous man’s eyes rolled back in his head. Both Mandrake and Drago collapsed to the mat, and Terrence rolled out of the ring, tossing the tire iron underneath. He laughed to himself at the crumpled form of Mandrake, lying lifeless in the ring, then looked over at the announcer’s table, where Daniel Pollaski’s mouth was wide open in shock.
“TERRY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!”
Terrence turned, and was surprised to see his wife standing there, her face contorted in fury. Her emerald eyes were burning into him with such a ferocity that he found himself involuntarily taking a step backwards.
“There!” Terrence, replied, pointing at Mandrake. “That bastard finally got what he had coming to him! The tag titles are gone, your link to him is severed. You’re free! That’s what you’ve been wanting!”
“Terry, I VOLUNTARILY agreed to join him!” Wendy screamed back. “You have to-“
Wendy cut herself off as she realized that the match was still going on. She turned to the ring, and tried to dive in, but the referee’s hand was already hitting the mat for the third time.
“NO!” Wendy shrieked, as the bell rang, announcing the termination of the match- and her hopes of a third tag title reign. She stared at Joe Drago getting to his feet, his hand raised in victory. When she turned back to Terrence, her eye’s were glistening with tears.
“Thanks a lot, Terrence,” she snapped. “You ruined EVERYTHING!”
"Ruined?" Terrence scoffed incredulously. "The only thing I've ruined is Victor Mandrake's hold on you."
"Terry! Don't you get it?" Tears of anger and frustration were streaming down her face, but Wendy seemed to not care. "With me and Victor eliminated, the only three teams left are the Wargods, Drago and James, and Hydra! All Defiance teams!"
"So?" Terrence asked, shrugging.
"So? We came back to STOP Defiance! And you just handed them the World Tag Team titles!"
"I don't give a flying FUCK who's getting the tag titles!" Terrence yelled back. "I told him, Wendy, that if he hurt you, I would destroy him. All I did was just keep my promise to him."
Wendy stared at her husband in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"You don't think I know when my wife is in pain? What did he do to your back, Wendy?"
"Terry," Wendy said, dodging the question. "I'm fine. It was just a difficult training session, that's all."
Terrence's brown eyes locked into his wife's green ones. "What the fuck did Victor Mandrake do to you?"
The two stared at each other for several seconds. Wendy was the first to look away wiping her eyes as she did.
"He hit me with a chair." She admitted. "But it was a lesson in-
"Okay, that does it," Terrence interrupted with a snarl, turning back towards the ring and wishing he hadn't thrown away the tire iron. "I'm going to kill him."
"TERRY, NO!" Wendy screamed, quickly interposing herself between Terrence and the ring. "We need him!"
"What?" Terrence asked, unable to believe his ears. "Did he hit you on the head with the chair too?"
"I don't like his methods. But he wants the same thing we do, Terry. He wants to stop Eric Dane and Defiance and save the alliance. We have to think about the greater good."
"The greater good? What about your good?" Terrence shot back. "The man hit you with a CHAIR!"
"It was a test," Wendy replied. "And I passed it! And no amount of chair shots could ever match the horror of what would have happened to me if he hadn't shown up in Dallas. Like I said, I don't like his methods, and I don't like his ideals, but our goals are the same- stopping Dane. And for the greater good, we have to put aside our differences and work together!"
"Will you stop saying 'The Greater Good?" Terrence roared. "I don't give a SHIT about the greater good! Especially if its going to get my wife killed!"
"Well, you better START, Terrence!" Wendy screamed back. "Because thanks to your childish and selfish actions, Dane is that much closer to controlling the Alliance! It's everybody thinking only of themselves that got us into this mess! So GROW UP, and get a clue Terry, before any shred of decency the WWA has left gets taken from us!"
With that, Wendy spun on her heel, and stormed up the entrance ramp. Terrence stared after her, his mouth open in shock, wondering why the hell he didn't listen to that remote part of his brain more often.
========================
MAY 26, 2010
INTERSTATE 65
NEAR LAFAYETTE, INDIANA
12:15 AM LOCAL TIME
(We open our scene inside the WhirlyBirdz RV, screaming down Interstate 65 in the dead of night, returning to Indianapolis after the last PWX show. The camera, as usual, has been mounted on the dashboard, giving a good front on view of Terrence "Twister" Thompson as he maneuvers the forty-five foot monstrosity through the countryside. Wendy, who would normally be sitting shotgun, is nowhere to be seen, as is neither Pollaski, Cassie, or Theresa. Chances are, they're back in the main cabin, either watching a movie, but up here, Terrence Thompson is all alone. As he drives, he alternates his attention between the midnight road and the camera.)
Twister- "So this is it. The magnum opus of the World Wrestling Alliance. Summer Games Eleven. I gotta say, its coming a bit early this year. I've remembered it in August. I've remembered it in September. But I don't think I've ever seen Summer Games in June before. Hell, it won't even be officially summer yet when the show is held!"
(Terrence smiles grimly, but it seems a good amount of the jovial, cocky attitude he normally displays in his promos is gone, replaced by a more serious demanor, as if the pressure of the next three weeks has already set in.)
Twister- "So now, less than two months after my return, I have entered into my first Summer Games tournament in six years. I have to say, my inclusion on 'Team Mandrake' was definitely a surprise, considering how my beloved captain feels about me. I suppose I should consider myself grateful, for without my inclusion on Victor's team, I would likely be sitting out this time around."
"But I'm not grateful. After everything that son of a bitch has done to me and my family, do you honestly think my inclusion on this team smooths everything over? It doesn't. I know that, and so does Victor. Now, I keep hearing that my inclusion on Mandrake's team is going to give Victor the opportunity he needs to eliminate me before the battle royal, and get one of his strongest and most dangerous competitors out of the way early. I can guarantee you all that won't be happening. Why?"
(Small smirk from The Mechanical Mayhem)
Twister- "Because when the 'Immortal One's' mortality finally ends, and he is standing before Saint Peter hearing the long list of sins that will send him to hell, I guarantee you that 'pride' is going to be at the top of his list. Right now, I'm second only to Eric Dane on Victor's enemies list, and Victor doesn't want me to fall to someone pathetic like Chris Cannon. He wants to dispose of me personally."
"I can assure you the desire is mutual. And that's the beauty of me and him teaming together in the first round. It's actually how they did it in ancient Rome, where gladiators would work in tandem to defeat a common enemy, before then setting upon each other. And when Victor and I finally get our chance at each other, it will be on the grandest stage of them all. How fitting an end is that to the mighty Victor Mandrake?"
"And of course, there is the other member of my team, my lovely wife, Wendy. Now, for once I will agree with Victor on something. Anybody in this alliance who underestimates my wife is setting themselves up for destruction. Wendy is, pound for pound, one of the finest wrestlers in the world today, and when she's angry, or she feels she has something to prove, well, I pity whoever is in her way. And, she IS angry. But that's her bit to tell, and I expect we will all be hearing from her soon."
"It's a shame that Wendy and I haven't had a chance to team together much since our return, because when she and I are as one, there is nothing in the world that can stop us. The few people remaining from five years ago can attest to what we are capable of. And unlike with Victor, our bond will last well past the first round of this tournament. If it comes down to me and Wendy standing alone in that ring, facing each other for the Championship, then I will consider the night the grandest of successes. And how many other true teams will be in this tournament? And don't even try to say A.W.E.S.O.M.E Unless the mythical Tyrone Walker returns as the mystery member of the HYDRA to team with Greer, then there will be no two wrestlers in this tournament with a bond anywhere close to the one I have with my wife."
"So that's my team. One member I could not love any more. One member I could not hate any more. And all three of us will be advancing to the next round."
(Terrence lets out a short chuckle.)
Twister- "Because honestly, who is there to oppose us? Team Appalachian Wrestling? If this is the best three that region can field, no wonder they suspended operations earlier this week."
"I mean, first of all, there's Chris Cannon. Have you finally figured it out, Chris? That nobody gives a flying shit that you think yourself the ruler of some fictional country? That nobody cares how "arrogant and cocky and trash talking" you are, because never once in your eight year career have you backed it up? You want to know why you're filler, Cannon? Why everyone heads for the concessions the moment your godawful 'national anthem' hits the loudspeakers? I can sum it up in eight simple words."
(Even though he's driving, Terrence takes a small risk. Using his knees to keep the wheel steady, Terrence takes both hands off holds up eight fingers. As he talks, he drops a finger with each word)
Twister- "My. Manager. Beat. The. Shit. Out. Of. You."
(Both hands back on the wheel now)
Twister- "Seriously, Chris. The moment Daniel Pollaski's buttcheeks drove your skull into the canvas, your career, such as it was, was over. How the hell can anyone take you seriously after that? You couldn't even beat real wrestlers, and now you're getting laid out by nonwrestlers. Hell, maybe I should ask Cassie to give you a match. At least that would be competitive."
(Terrence lets off another short chuckle, probably at the thought of his nanny kicking Chris Cannon's ass.)
Twister- "And then there's Zortalk. Or William Boscoe Davenport, or whatever the hell he wants to call himself. You know, Zortalk, there's one thing I like about you, and that's you have given me consolation. I'm not the most brilliant man in the world, and I've done a lot of things in my life that could be considered stupid. But I take comfort in knowing that no matter what I've done, or will do in the future, could ever be as idiotic as the crap you put on television every other week."
(Terrence rolls his eyes, and continues.)
Twister- "Finally, the last man on the team is John Kellerman. Honestly, Herr Kellerman, you are pretty much the only one on your team that I have any respect for. You're a good guy, and there's obviously some brains in your skull. But you need to get a grip, John, and stop pretending that everything about this country is perfect. Patriotism isn't blindly waving a flag and screaming 'Amerika Number One!' You're right, this is a great place to live, and I'm glad you're happy. But you gotta take off the rose colored glasses.
(Terrence pauses, and then snorts in laughter.)
Twister- "Goddamn, when did I start trying to sound like a philosopher?"
(Shrug)
Twister- "John, if your team had better supporting cast members, you might have had a chance. If Ronnie Long hadn't jumped to Cito Conarri's squad and Jake Donovan or the Angel of Death was on the team, I could see one of you squeaking by us. But you and your idiot teamates against me, Victor and Wendy? Bad draw, man. It happens."
(Terrence of all people knows what its like to get a tough draw with a shitty team, and he actually shoots the camera a sympathetic smile.)
Twister- "So once we get by AW, then on to the battle royal. Obviously, the man I'm looking most forward to eliminating in this will be fighting at my side through the opening round. Unfortunately, kicking Victor Mandrake's ass won't win me Summer Games on its own. Wendy and I could be up against as many as ten other wrestlers going into the finals."
"Well, thank's to Dane's power play, it looks like HYDRA will advance. I have to say, I've been wanting to get my hands on these bastards for the past two months. Both Cobra and Steven Greer will be right after Victor Mandrake on my target list."
"Greer, you and I go way back. April 2003, I want to say, the King of the Death Match, when you needed your buddy Tyrone Walker to take me out so you could win the tournament. And that's your problem Greer. You're billed as 'The King Of Pain', this hardcore legend, but in reality, you're little more than a semi-talented never was who has always taken the easy way whenever it was convenient. I mean, what? It's been ten years, and you're STILL suckling at Eric Dane's teat? Before he retired, Amethyst should have got you in the head with a brick as well, so we could at least be treated to some new Dane lackeys."
"And don't think I have forgotten about the Defiance Season Finale, when you and your buddies held my wife down in the ring, and threatened to rape her on national television. You're goddamned lucky that Andrews Driver through a table had knocked me out, because if it hadn't, the right hand date on all four of your tombstones would be reading March 30, 2010. As it is, what Mandrake did to you and your goons that night will PALE in comparison to what I'm going to do to you during the Battle Royal."
(A short humorless chuckle)
Twister- "Maybe Dane getting you that bye isn't such a bad thing after all."
"And then there's Cobra, former world champion, cult leader, and, apparently, the official alliance statistician. Cobra, you're an annoying douchebag, and I doubt there is a single member of this alliance, including your brothers and sister in Hydra, who disagrees with me. And we got the message about two months ago- you're awesome, and you've held the world title a REALLY long time. We get it. Really, we do."
"I suppose some of my irritation can be chalked up to envy. I only held the title for twenty-three days back in 2005, and you can bet that I want it back. So if your constant driveling of how long you've held the world title has accomplished anything, it's that it has made me want to climb back on top of the mountain all that much more. To now have the opportunity to get it while throwing your Halloween costuned ass to the floor, it'll make things that much sweeter."
"Now, I suppose that unless Summer Games turns into a rousing game of 'capture the crack-whore valet', the Angels of Death and Miss USA probably don't stand too much of a chance, so might as well pencil Team CAL through as well."
"Joe Drago and Christian Light, you are probably the two men I'm most looking forward to facing in the spirit of competition. Light, we go back several years as well, back when we both were running with Joey Tesauro, although you and I never had the opportunity to face each other. Still, you are the only previous Summer Games champion to be competing, so I hope you're up for having a huge target on your back."
"Drago, you wrestle with a code of honor that sets you apart from the other Defiance rabble. I'm also looking forward to facing you."
(Pause)
Twister- "Oh, and Joe? You're welcome."
(Small smile, which fades almost instantly.)
Twister- "And finally, there's the last member of Team CAL, Heidi Christenson..."
(Terrence lets out a short chuckle)
Twister- "But I think I'll let Wendy take care of that."
"So with teams Hydra, CAL, and Mandrake all looking to advance, I suppose that leaves just one other spot in the finals- the winner of Team Defiance against Team Conarri. This one should be pretty close- so there's a good chance only one or two guys could be advancing to the Battle Royal."
"Cito Conarri's handpicked team is an interesting mix. You have the World Champion, Mr. Three Hundred Percent, and... Adrien Cochrane."
(Scoff)
Twister- "Now, I'm not entirely sure if Ronnie Long put his title on the line voluntarily, but if he did, the man's got some serious cajones. It takes a lot to put it on the line in a twenty-four man clusterfuck, especially after just winning it, so my hat goes off to the man."
"And Ronnie, I have to admit that I'm somewhat glad that you were the guy who brought Cobra down. Call me sentimental, but the night of the Defiance finale, you lost more than anyone else, so it's good that you've achieved at least some modicum of revenge. Congrats, man, and I look forward for a chance to beat you."
"I'm also looking forward to facing Kazuma Fujita. I'm a bit surprised that Kazu's agreed to side with Conarri's team against his home federation, but I'm glad he's chosen the right side."
(Terrence pauses, and lets out a scoff.)
Twister- "And last, and certainly least, is Adrien Cochrane. You know, I see people cheering for this guy, and I honestly can't figure out why. Adrien, congratulations. You finished second in the smallest Summer Games Tournament in history. I'm sure you're proud, especially since you've spent the entire year reminding anyone who would listen. But therein lies the rub, Cochrane. What the fuck have you done since then? That's your problem, Adrien, you get semi-decent accomplishment on your resume, and you coast on it. You don't hunger for more. And really, stop playing the 'if the New Orleans Saints can win, so can I' card. It was almost cute back in February, but there isn't an intelligent soul in the world that will ever think of you as the Drew Brees of professional wrestling. I'd say you were more along the lines of a David Carr, or Alex Smith. Journeymen who never seem to go away, but still never amount to anything."
"And then, there's Team Defiance. The champ, the chump, and the cancer."
(Terrence laughs softly at his own lame joke.)
Twister-"Chico Vasquez, I'm honestly shocked you're still around. I figured you'd have taken one look at Valora Salinas, and ran off with her to make a new generation of gangbanging thugs. You're a dangerous man, Chico. You wouldn't have survived the Champions Carnival otherwise. But Vasquez, that belt around the waist makes you the figurehead of your little renegade organization. And it won't be your posse at your back. It will be two men who desire your destruction. You could say that I am in the same boat with Victor, but, like I said earlier, pride won't allow either of us to leave the destruction of our enemy to another man. Where's Bronson Box's pride? Squashed under Eric Dane's boot. Where's Cancer Jiles' pride? In the dirt he came crawling to Eric Dane upon, begging for a Defiance contract. I'd watch out, Chico. Your team mates won't care who puts you down, so long as you are out of the way."
"Bronson Box. I'm surprised Eric Dane let you in this instead of shipping you off to obedience school to learn 'sit' and 'stay'. You talk about redemption, but you're the one who needs redeeming. You're too afraid of losing your cush job in Eric's little company to take a stand for yourself, and your values. I'm not a theologist, but I remember hearing a passage in the Bible about God spewing the lukewarm out. You best be careful, Bronson."
"And, at the end, Cancer Jiles. The very poster boy of the 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em' mentality. In a way, I suppose I should thank you, Jiles. It was partly your actions that led to my return. I think you remember earlier this year, when Pollaski was a columnist, and I was but a memory to this Alliance. Pollaski grapsed the threat Defiance posed to the WWA, and he hoped for someone to take charge and lead the resistance. He had you as one of this Alliance's saviors. Boy, was he wrong. Eric Dane wrecked shows. You threw eggs. Eric Dane stole your own regions tag titles. You threw eggs. Eric Dane hired Kongo and Vasquez to slice your 'friend' Cochrane across the forehead. You threw eggs. While Xavier Langston was driving around Houston with Bobby Dean locked in his trunk you were... shock! Throwing eggs. Honestly, is it any wonder how Dane managed to sucessfully chase DWF out of the alliance?"
"But, unfortunately, some cancers have a habit of relapsing, and I guess you're one of them. And you came back to get revenge on Cobra? For what? You being stupid enough to run after Psymon, and abandoning the biggest match of your career? I hate Cobra as much as the next guy, but that's your own goddamn fault. And now, you're on a team that's trying to destroy the very same alliance you used to help Adrien protect. Of course, considering how well you defended the place, maybe you trying to destroy it is just what we need."
(Terrence shakes his head in disgust.)
Twister- "I love my wife, but there is one thing she fails to understand. She views this entire event as our last stand against the invasion of Eric Dane and his cronies. In a way, I suppose she's right, but that's not what this event is about. Summer Games has always been about personal glory, of being the one man left standing at the end of the night, and having your name etched in the history books. And does a man who has been back for two months from a five year absence really believe he can win the pinnacle of WWA achievement?"
(A scoff, and a small smile.)
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
(Fade)
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