Tuesday July 20, 2010
ARC Arena- WhirlyBirdz' Locker Room
Valparaiso, Indiana
12:31 AM Local Time
PWX Adrenaline 39 had been off the air for over an hour, and still the WhirlyBirdz remained in their locker room.
Wendy Briese-Thompson quietly folded up her ring gear, carefully laying each piece inside her duffel bag, while her husband patiently waited. Having wrestled far earlier in the evening, Terrence had already been back in his street clothes for a couple hours, but after the vicious attack Wendy had recieved from Wild at the conclusion of her match, and the subsequent checking out in the medical room, only now was she able to finally change out of her attire.
"Where's Pollaski?" Terrence Thompson asked, taking a swig from his water bottle and wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his Black #17 Matt Kenseth NASCAR t-shirt. Terrence was a well built man, standing just over six feet and weighing a little over two-forty. A former auto racer and still avid fan of the sport, nearly everything Terrence wore was car related, right down to the modified racing suit he had used as his ring attire. Still, Terrence was hardly just a gimmick wrestler, as the PWX Tag Team title hanging over his shoulder could attest to.
The co-holder of those titles was the young woman zipping her duffel bag up. At five-eight and a hundred thirty pounds, Wendy was one of the smallest wrestlers on the PWX roster, although she had managed to overcome that handicap years ago. With her flaming red-hair, Wendy was attractive in a girl-next-door sort of manner, right down to her conservative dress. In the ring, however, she was as technically proficient as anyone, and her never-say die attitude and firm belief in fair play had won her over many a fan.
Right now, though, Wendy was merely shrugging at her husband's question, looking around the room.
"He had gotten busted open when Stern hit him with that chair," Wendy said. "They were going to stitch him up, but that was a while ago. He should have been back by now."
"Hope he's all right," Terrence said. "He took a nasty hit."
Wendy began to nod in agreement, but she stopped as the door to the locker room open, and in walked the topic of their conversation.
Daniel Pollaski was a big guy, obviously powerful, but also obviously obese. His dark brown hair hung lanky over his forehead, slightly covering the bandage that had been wrapped around his forehead. Pollaski stumbled into the room, and shut the door behind him.
"Seven goddamned stitches," he mumbled. "I'm going to kill Chris Stern."
Wendy smiled sympathetically. "Where were you?"
At this, Pollaski paused just a second, and both Terrence and Wendy got the sense that he was debating whether or not to tell them something. Finally, he shrugged. "I was talking to Valerie Belmont."
"Oh?" Wendy looked intrigued. Even though she had won their only encounter against each other (in a tag match), Wendy considered Valerie her most dangerous female rival in PWX. Even so, Wendy had nothing but tremendous respect for the other redhead, and wasn't afraid to let the world know that. "What about?"
"CPW," Pollaski said, hoisting his own backpack off the floor.
Wendy frowned. "You weren't signing us up, were you, because between-"
But Pollaski merely shook his head, grimacing as his vision began to swim. "Not you guys. I was signing myself up."
This was probably the most shocking thing Pollaski had ever said to either WhirlyBird, and the dumbfounded expressions on both their faces showed it. Wendy recovered first.
"As a wrestler?"
Pollaski nodded, and Terrence burst into laughter. "What did Val say? No offense dude, but even she wouldn't be that desperate enough to-"
"She said yes. I debut on August fifteenth," Pollaski snapped back, earning another stunned stare. In truth, he was kinda growing tired of those looks of disbelief.
"Wow, she IS desperate," Terrence marveled, grimacing just a bit when Wendy backhanded him in the shoulder.
"Be nice, Terry!" Wendy hissed, then turned kindly to Pollaski. "But Dan, what are you going to do? You've only been in a handful of matches."
"Well..." Pollaski paused, then shrugged. "I was kinda hoping you two would help."
Terrence and Wendy looked at each other, a mixture of intrigue and dread on their faces. Finally, Wendy shrugged, and nodded. "If you're willing to work hard..."
Pollaski smiled a crooked smile. "Thanks. And I promise I'll try not to be too difficult a student."
Terrence snorted, the only thing he really could do in the shock he had at this turn of events. "Tell you what, we'll let you get in the ring and spar with Wendy and I, and we'll show you some tricks."
Pollaski nodded. "Works for me, and thanks."
Terrence merely nodded, and then smiled. "It's really the only thing we could do. You've been such a help to us over the years, its only fitting we help you out as well."
Wendy nodded her agreement, and Pollaski smiled sheepishly, clearly taken aback by Terrence's compliment.
Luckily, Terrence was hardly one for sentimentality.
"Yeah, well, either way, we're accomplishing nothing standing here. Let's go back to the RV, and get some sleep."
Terrence, carrying his duffel, led the way out of the room, Wendy quietly following behind. Pollaski remained behind for a second, and pumped his fist in a victory celebration. Then, grinning ear to ear, he followed his wrestlers out of the locker room.
=========================================================
The following column was posted on the official website of the WhirlyBirdz
Hey kids.
So ever since I dropped the news at the end of my last Power X column, the internet has been abuzz. Is it true? Is Daniel Pollaski, the greatest manager in the history of professional wrestling, really entering the ring as an honest to God competitor?
Yup, it's true. It's DAMN true.
Sorry.
Honestly, this has been something I've been considering doing for a while. I'm hardly the most in-shape guy on the planet, so maybe giving myself something to work towards would be a great way to convince me to excersize. Not to mention, I'm getting paid to hurt people.
I shoulda figured that part out years ago!
Even better, the wrestlers I manage, Terrence Thompson and Wendy Briese, have been helping me train for my big in-ring debut this Sunday. I honestly couldn't ask for better teachers to help me get prepared. After all, both Terrence and Wendy have won accolades the world over, and both have skyrocketed back to the top since coming out of retirement last March.
Oh, and don't worry, Birdz fans, I'm still managing the team in PWX and Defiance. Danny's just doing a little something for himself for a change.
Like I said, my big debut is Sunday Night, at Catholic Panda Wrestling's Zoo, based outta Los Angeles, California. This actually works out pretty well, considering that Defiance is holding a show in Hollywood that same weekend, so I'll get to have Terrence and Wendy on hand to cheer me on as I take on David Anderson.
Yeah, I know. Who?
I shouldn't be too hard on the guy. After all, while I've been running around, yelling at people in a wrestling ring, this guy's been giving up his life and safety in service to his country. You got to respect a guy like that.
Bah, screw that, this asshole made fun of me!
So let's say it, whatever noble things David Anderson did in the past, right now he's nothing more than a snivelling alcoholic who apparently can't accept he's a grown man and move on from his Daddy's death. He's also more retarded than the entire Special Olympics COMBINED.
Considering what an icon he is, I suppose I could take the Andre the Giant comparison as a compliment. Except for the fact that I'm SIXTEEN INCHES SHORTER. Oh, and I speak way better English. Oh, and unlike Andre (and David's daddy), I'm very much alive.
Let's be honest, folks. I'm not that imposing of a guy. I'm basically your average late twenty-something dude who's downed a few too many slices of pizza. I'm well aware of my stregnths and weaknesses. And the fact that I'm fat and slow falls firmly into that latter category.
But this ain't a track meet. David can run circles around me all he wants, but the fact is, if he's gonna win this match, he's gonna have to get close to me sooner or later. And when he does... SQUISH.
That brings up a nice mental image, don't it?
And David calls me a child, because I've resorted to using tear gas? Does he fucking realize that as a manager, it is my JOB to keep interference from getting in that ring and disrupting my wrestler's matches? And, in case the retardaholic hasn't been paying attention, I'm still new to the actual wrestling aspect of this business, so I had to go with other methods to be effective. Since he's new to the business as a whole, let me inform him of a couple fundamental truths.
1. Promoters really don't like it when you use an AK-47 on other wrestlers.
2. Creativity is a plus in this business, something that David seems to be lacking, judging by his interview.
If David Anderson can't figure out what the point of fighting for entertainment is, he either better grasp the concept by Sunday, or stay the fuck up in Alaska where he belongs. Because it's going to be DAMNED entertaining when I break this drunken washout's face, and splatter his blood all over the Catholic Panda ring.
With luck, I'll manage to get some to splash in a cup so I can give it to Valerie Belmont as a present.
Sorry, Val. Couldn't resist!
Anyways, I'm sure you'll hear from me again. Until next time...
POLLA OUT!
Dan Pollaski is the manager of the WhirlyBirdz Vehicular Hit Squad, and a wrestler for Catholic Panda Wrestling. He also would like to ask one of the lovely ladies of CPW out on a date. How bout it?
Please?
ARC Arena- WhirlyBirdz' Locker Room
Valparaiso, Indiana
12:31 AM Local Time
PWX Adrenaline 39 had been off the air for over an hour, and still the WhirlyBirdz remained in their locker room.
Wendy Briese-Thompson quietly folded up her ring gear, carefully laying each piece inside her duffel bag, while her husband patiently waited. Having wrestled far earlier in the evening, Terrence had already been back in his street clothes for a couple hours, but after the vicious attack Wendy had recieved from Wild at the conclusion of her match, and the subsequent checking out in the medical room, only now was she able to finally change out of her attire.
"Where's Pollaski?" Terrence Thompson asked, taking a swig from his water bottle and wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his Black #17 Matt Kenseth NASCAR t-shirt. Terrence was a well built man, standing just over six feet and weighing a little over two-forty. A former auto racer and still avid fan of the sport, nearly everything Terrence wore was car related, right down to the modified racing suit he had used as his ring attire. Still, Terrence was hardly just a gimmick wrestler, as the PWX Tag Team title hanging over his shoulder could attest to.
The co-holder of those titles was the young woman zipping her duffel bag up. At five-eight and a hundred thirty pounds, Wendy was one of the smallest wrestlers on the PWX roster, although she had managed to overcome that handicap years ago. With her flaming red-hair, Wendy was attractive in a girl-next-door sort of manner, right down to her conservative dress. In the ring, however, she was as technically proficient as anyone, and her never-say die attitude and firm belief in fair play had won her over many a fan.
Right now, though, Wendy was merely shrugging at her husband's question, looking around the room.
"He had gotten busted open when Stern hit him with that chair," Wendy said. "They were going to stitch him up, but that was a while ago. He should have been back by now."
"Hope he's all right," Terrence said. "He took a nasty hit."
Wendy began to nod in agreement, but she stopped as the door to the locker room open, and in walked the topic of their conversation.
Daniel Pollaski was a big guy, obviously powerful, but also obviously obese. His dark brown hair hung lanky over his forehead, slightly covering the bandage that had been wrapped around his forehead. Pollaski stumbled into the room, and shut the door behind him.
"Seven goddamned stitches," he mumbled. "I'm going to kill Chris Stern."
Wendy smiled sympathetically. "Where were you?"
At this, Pollaski paused just a second, and both Terrence and Wendy got the sense that he was debating whether or not to tell them something. Finally, he shrugged. "I was talking to Valerie Belmont."
"Oh?" Wendy looked intrigued. Even though she had won their only encounter against each other (in a tag match), Wendy considered Valerie her most dangerous female rival in PWX. Even so, Wendy had nothing but tremendous respect for the other redhead, and wasn't afraid to let the world know that. "What about?"
"CPW," Pollaski said, hoisting his own backpack off the floor.
Wendy frowned. "You weren't signing us up, were you, because between-"
But Pollaski merely shook his head, grimacing as his vision began to swim. "Not you guys. I was signing myself up."
This was probably the most shocking thing Pollaski had ever said to either WhirlyBird, and the dumbfounded expressions on both their faces showed it. Wendy recovered first.
"As a wrestler?"
Pollaski nodded, and Terrence burst into laughter. "What did Val say? No offense dude, but even she wouldn't be that desperate enough to-"
"She said yes. I debut on August fifteenth," Pollaski snapped back, earning another stunned stare. In truth, he was kinda growing tired of those looks of disbelief.
"Wow, she IS desperate," Terrence marveled, grimacing just a bit when Wendy backhanded him in the shoulder.
"Be nice, Terry!" Wendy hissed, then turned kindly to Pollaski. "But Dan, what are you going to do? You've only been in a handful of matches."
"Well..." Pollaski paused, then shrugged. "I was kinda hoping you two would help."
Terrence and Wendy looked at each other, a mixture of intrigue and dread on their faces. Finally, Wendy shrugged, and nodded. "If you're willing to work hard..."
Pollaski smiled a crooked smile. "Thanks. And I promise I'll try not to be too difficult a student."
Terrence snorted, the only thing he really could do in the shock he had at this turn of events. "Tell you what, we'll let you get in the ring and spar with Wendy and I, and we'll show you some tricks."
Pollaski nodded. "Works for me, and thanks."
Terrence merely nodded, and then smiled. "It's really the only thing we could do. You've been such a help to us over the years, its only fitting we help you out as well."
Wendy nodded her agreement, and Pollaski smiled sheepishly, clearly taken aback by Terrence's compliment.
Luckily, Terrence was hardly one for sentimentality.
"Yeah, well, either way, we're accomplishing nothing standing here. Let's go back to the RV, and get some sleep."
Terrence, carrying his duffel, led the way out of the room, Wendy quietly following behind. Pollaski remained behind for a second, and pumped his fist in a victory celebration. Then, grinning ear to ear, he followed his wrestlers out of the locker room.
=========================================================
The following column was posted on the official website of the WhirlyBirdz
Hey kids.
So ever since I dropped the news at the end of my last Power X column, the internet has been abuzz. Is it true? Is Daniel Pollaski, the greatest manager in the history of professional wrestling, really entering the ring as an honest to God competitor?
Yup, it's true. It's DAMN true.
Sorry.
Honestly, this has been something I've been considering doing for a while. I'm hardly the most in-shape guy on the planet, so maybe giving myself something to work towards would be a great way to convince me to excersize. Not to mention, I'm getting paid to hurt people.
I shoulda figured that part out years ago!
Even better, the wrestlers I manage, Terrence Thompson and Wendy Briese, have been helping me train for my big in-ring debut this Sunday. I honestly couldn't ask for better teachers to help me get prepared. After all, both Terrence and Wendy have won accolades the world over, and both have skyrocketed back to the top since coming out of retirement last March.
Oh, and don't worry, Birdz fans, I'm still managing the team in PWX and Defiance. Danny's just doing a little something for himself for a change.
Like I said, my big debut is Sunday Night, at Catholic Panda Wrestling's Zoo, based outta Los Angeles, California. This actually works out pretty well, considering that Defiance is holding a show in Hollywood that same weekend, so I'll get to have Terrence and Wendy on hand to cheer me on as I take on David Anderson.
Yeah, I know. Who?
I shouldn't be too hard on the guy. After all, while I've been running around, yelling at people in a wrestling ring, this guy's been giving up his life and safety in service to his country. You got to respect a guy like that.
Bah, screw that, this asshole made fun of me!
So let's say it, whatever noble things David Anderson did in the past, right now he's nothing more than a snivelling alcoholic who apparently can't accept he's a grown man and move on from his Daddy's death. He's also more retarded than the entire Special Olympics COMBINED.
Considering what an icon he is, I suppose I could take the Andre the Giant comparison as a compliment. Except for the fact that I'm SIXTEEN INCHES SHORTER. Oh, and I speak way better English. Oh, and unlike Andre (and David's daddy), I'm very much alive.
Let's be honest, folks. I'm not that imposing of a guy. I'm basically your average late twenty-something dude who's downed a few too many slices of pizza. I'm well aware of my stregnths and weaknesses. And the fact that I'm fat and slow falls firmly into that latter category.
But this ain't a track meet. David can run circles around me all he wants, but the fact is, if he's gonna win this match, he's gonna have to get close to me sooner or later. And when he does... SQUISH.
That brings up a nice mental image, don't it?
And David calls me a child, because I've resorted to using tear gas? Does he fucking realize that as a manager, it is my JOB to keep interference from getting in that ring and disrupting my wrestler's matches? And, in case the retardaholic hasn't been paying attention, I'm still new to the actual wrestling aspect of this business, so I had to go with other methods to be effective. Since he's new to the business as a whole, let me inform him of a couple fundamental truths.
1. Promoters really don't like it when you use an AK-47 on other wrestlers.
2. Creativity is a plus in this business, something that David seems to be lacking, judging by his interview.
If David Anderson can't figure out what the point of fighting for entertainment is, he either better grasp the concept by Sunday, or stay the fuck up in Alaska where he belongs. Because it's going to be DAMNED entertaining when I break this drunken washout's face, and splatter his blood all over the Catholic Panda ring.
With luck, I'll manage to get some to splash in a cup so I can give it to Valerie Belmont as a present.
Sorry, Val. Couldn't resist!
Anyways, I'm sure you'll hear from me again. Until next time...
POLLA OUT!
Dan Pollaski is the manager of the WhirlyBirdz Vehicular Hit Squad, and a wrestler for Catholic Panda Wrestling. He also would like to ask one of the lovely ladies of CPW out on a date. How bout it?
Please?
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