Daniel Pollaski barely looked up from the screen of his laptop as the young woman walked into the kitchen. “Hey,” he mumbled quietly, returning to his reading.
“Hey,” Wendy Briese-Thompson replied, brushing a loose strand of her flame-red hair from her face as she pulled a bowl from the cupboard. “What are you doing?”
“Reading up on my opponent for this Saturday,” Pollaski mumured, squinting hard at the computer screen. “Or at least I’m trying to. She blogs like a fourteen year old dyslexic with ADD.”
“That bad, hunh?” Wendy replied with a lopsided smile. Over the past nine years of Pollaski being her friend and manager, she had learned to take most of his insults with a grain of salt. But from the tone in her manager’s voice, she had a feeling his opinion on this matter might not be all that farfetched.
“Yeah, that bad.” Pollaski muttered. “Where’s Terrence and Theresa?”
“Terry had to run and get a new oil filter for the RV, and he took Terr with him,” Wendy replied, referring to her husband and daughter.
“Dear God, this is revolting,” Pollaski muttered. “I could spend all day correcting this horrible, horrible grammar.” He looked up from the computer screen, as Wendy sat down, a bowl of grapes, strawberries, blueberries, and cut watermelon in front of her and a fork in her hand. “You’re from that circle. You remember an Angelina Jones?” Pollaski asked, referring to Angel Kash’s real name.
Wendy grimaced, and shook her head. “Can’t say I do. You know, just because you were a New York socialite, it doesn’t mean you know everyone else.”
Pollaski glanced up from his laptop, and he saw Wendy looking fairly ill-at-ease. While Wendy’s parents, both distinguished Broadway performers, had been a part of the New York City social elite, Wendy had never felt comfortable being a part of that group. Pollaski couldn’t blame her. The few occasions he had to mingle with his ‘betters’, it had been a rather uncomfortable experience. It just wasn’t a place foul-mouthed suburban middle-class people belonged.
“Sorry, I forgot how much you hated New York,” Pollaski said, shrugging.
“Yeah, but had I not hated it so much there,” Wendy said, smiling slightly, “I would never have begged my parents to move away to Indianapolis, and I never would have met Terrence, had Theresa, or been involved with wrestling.”
“Or met me,” Pollaski shot back, grinning.
“Well, it wasn’t ALL good,” Wendy responded with a rare bit of mischief in her emerald eyes. She smiled softly, and ate a few more bites of her fruit bowl. “So what are your plans for Angel Kash?”
Pollaski shrugged. “Style wise, she seems a little like you, except she cheats like a Jerry Springer guest.” He broke into a grin. “Fine by me, I’ve never been much for rules, myself. But she doesn’t have your finesse or polish, so she’s going to make a mistake sooner or later. That’s when I strike, and get the ‘dubya’.
Wendy nodded silently, frowning. “You’re not going to hold back on her, because she’s female, right?” Wendy was all for chivalry- but not in the wrestling ring. She hated nothing more than hearing that she won because her opponent took it easy on her.
“You honestly think that after knowing you for nearly a decade, I’d be dumb enough to underestimate a woman in a wrestling ring?” Pollaski countered in disbelief. “Besides, I don’t know if you remember, but in the few matches I WAS in before I joined CPW, I faced women then, and lost.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t count the Atayla match,” Wendy replied.
“Why?”
“Because I think you ENJOYED getting pinned,” Wendy replied, rolling her eyes.
“Well, she was LICKING me!” Pollaski protested.
“Right,” Wendy said. “Just try and keep your... libido in check out there.”
“Oh, I will,” Pollaski promised with a straight face, then broke into another grin. “But AFTER... I mean, you never kn-”
“Not. Going. To. Happen.” Wendy said slowly and definitively, looking slightly angry that this subject was even breached.
“YOU don’t know that.” Pollaski replied hotly. “I mean, Angel could be so overwhelmed by the raw manliness I exhibit... or I could land on her, bust up all her internal organs, and kill her. Then it’d be fairly easy to-”
“Okay, I’m done.” Wendy said, tossing her fork into her fruit bowl with a clatter. “I’m going to pack for our trip to Los Angeles.”
“Wait!” Pollaski called after her, as Wendy, shaking her head in disgust, walked out of the room. “It’s not really necrophilia if the body’s still warm, right?”
No response, and Pollaski settled back into his chair.
“Well, I thought it was funny...”
“Hey,” Wendy Briese-Thompson replied, brushing a loose strand of her flame-red hair from her face as she pulled a bowl from the cupboard. “What are you doing?”
“Reading up on my opponent for this Saturday,” Pollaski mumured, squinting hard at the computer screen. “Or at least I’m trying to. She blogs like a fourteen year old dyslexic with ADD.”
“That bad, hunh?” Wendy replied with a lopsided smile. Over the past nine years of Pollaski being her friend and manager, she had learned to take most of his insults with a grain of salt. But from the tone in her manager’s voice, she had a feeling his opinion on this matter might not be all that farfetched.
“Yeah, that bad.” Pollaski muttered. “Where’s Terrence and Theresa?”
“Terry had to run and get a new oil filter for the RV, and he took Terr with him,” Wendy replied, referring to her husband and daughter.
“Dear God, this is revolting,” Pollaski muttered. “I could spend all day correcting this horrible, horrible grammar.” He looked up from the computer screen, as Wendy sat down, a bowl of grapes, strawberries, blueberries, and cut watermelon in front of her and a fork in her hand. “You’re from that circle. You remember an Angelina Jones?” Pollaski asked, referring to Angel Kash’s real name.
Wendy grimaced, and shook her head. “Can’t say I do. You know, just because you were a New York socialite, it doesn’t mean you know everyone else.”
Pollaski glanced up from his laptop, and he saw Wendy looking fairly ill-at-ease. While Wendy’s parents, both distinguished Broadway performers, had been a part of the New York City social elite, Wendy had never felt comfortable being a part of that group. Pollaski couldn’t blame her. The few occasions he had to mingle with his ‘betters’, it had been a rather uncomfortable experience. It just wasn’t a place foul-mouthed suburban middle-class people belonged.
“Sorry, I forgot how much you hated New York,” Pollaski said, shrugging.
“Yeah, but had I not hated it so much there,” Wendy said, smiling slightly, “I would never have begged my parents to move away to Indianapolis, and I never would have met Terrence, had Theresa, or been involved with wrestling.”
“Or met me,” Pollaski shot back, grinning.
“Well, it wasn’t ALL good,” Wendy responded with a rare bit of mischief in her emerald eyes. She smiled softly, and ate a few more bites of her fruit bowl. “So what are your plans for Angel Kash?”
Pollaski shrugged. “Style wise, she seems a little like you, except she cheats like a Jerry Springer guest.” He broke into a grin. “Fine by me, I’ve never been much for rules, myself. But she doesn’t have your finesse or polish, so she’s going to make a mistake sooner or later. That’s when I strike, and get the ‘dubya’.
Wendy nodded silently, frowning. “You’re not going to hold back on her, because she’s female, right?” Wendy was all for chivalry- but not in the wrestling ring. She hated nothing more than hearing that she won because her opponent took it easy on her.
“You honestly think that after knowing you for nearly a decade, I’d be dumb enough to underestimate a woman in a wrestling ring?” Pollaski countered in disbelief. “Besides, I don’t know if you remember, but in the few matches I WAS in before I joined CPW, I faced women then, and lost.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t count the Atayla match,” Wendy replied.
“Why?”
“Because I think you ENJOYED getting pinned,” Wendy replied, rolling her eyes.
“Well, she was LICKING me!” Pollaski protested.
“Right,” Wendy said. “Just try and keep your... libido in check out there.”
“Oh, I will,” Pollaski promised with a straight face, then broke into another grin. “But AFTER... I mean, you never kn-”
“Not. Going. To. Happen.” Wendy said slowly and definitively, looking slightly angry that this subject was even breached.
“YOU don’t know that.” Pollaski replied hotly. “I mean, Angel could be so overwhelmed by the raw manliness I exhibit... or I could land on her, bust up all her internal organs, and kill her. Then it’d be fairly easy to-”
“Okay, I’m done.” Wendy said, tossing her fork into her fruit bowl with a clatter. “I’m going to pack for our trip to Los Angeles.”
“Wait!” Pollaski called after her, as Wendy, shaking her head in disgust, walked out of the room. “It’s not really necrophilia if the body’s still warm, right?”
No response, and Pollaski settled back into his chair.
“Well, I thought it was funny...”
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