Friday August 13, 2010
City Streets- Terrence’s Charger
Indianapolis, Indiana
11:51 PM Local Time
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Terrence Thompson declared as he pulled his blood-red 1971 Dodge Charger out of the Club Midnight parking lot and into the road. As he accelerated to just above the speed limit of 35, he glanced over at his wife, who was silently staring out the passenger side window.
Finally Wendy stirred, shaking her head. “No...” she admitted quietly. “Boston was a surprisingly gracious host.”
Terrence nodded in agreement as he switched lanes to pass a slower moving vehicle. “I can’t say I agree with all his opinions, but I think he’s likeable enough. Has his head on straight, that’s for sure.”
Wendy again nodded quietly, as she again turned her head out the window. “He definitely loves his family.”
Terrence nodded, thinking back to Boston proudly showing him a picture of his wife and son, and talking about how everything he had done at Summer Games was to raise money for his kids’ dental work. Upon reflection, he knew that if it had been his family in that situation, he would have done the exact same thing in a heartbeat.
As Terrence turned North on Meridian Street, he glanced over at Wendy, who remained quietly staring out the window. “Everything okay?” he asked.
Wendy nodded her head jerkily, a clear indication that she was lying. “Come on... out with it...” he prodded.
Finally, Wendy turned her head to him. “You seemed to know what you wanted in Boston’s bar pretty quickly” she said softly, accusingly.
Terrence had to fight hard from rolling his eyes. “I was on an auto racing team, hon. What do you think we did while we were on the road? Sat in our hotel rooms and played Parcheesi?”
It was obvious that Wendy didn’t find Terrence’s sarcasm amusing at all, but Terrence continued. “We went to the bars and the clubs, and either you stayed at the bar, had a couple, and shot some pool or threw some darts, or you found some girl and took her back to the hotel room. Which option would YOU have preferred?”
Wendy stared at him coldly. “You didn’t have to do either, Te-”
“Oh, don’t judge me,” Terrence snapped, a little harsher than he intended to. “I drank a couple beers, Wendy, and there’s not a damned thing wrong with that. I never drove drunk, I never fooled around, I had a Bud, and I threw darts with my pit crew. You wanna divorce me over that?”
Wendy blinked in shock at her husbands words, but Terrence didn’t back down. “Don’t take it out on me that you had a glass of wine. And for the record, you’ve drank alcohol before, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“That’s different,” Wendy insisted. “That’s part of communi-”
“So its okay to do it in church, but not at a social event?” Terrence countered. “I think the part that you can’t stand is the fact that you actually LIKED it.”
Wendy opened her mouth to protest, but Terrence cut her off. “Don’t deny it Wendy! You liked the goddamned wine, and it terrifies you because you’ve got some fucked up idea in your head that now you’re going to turn into your parents. Well, and I want to make sure you get this very clear- You. Are. Not. Your. Parents. If you were, you’d be off on Broadway singing showtunes and fucking anyone who wore Versace.”
Wendy’s eyes narrowed at her husband’s phrasing, but she found herself at a loss for words. Finally, she turned away, and looked back out the window.
Terrence sighed. “I’m sorry, hon. But you really needed to hear that. I love you, and that’s why it’s so frustrating to watch you be so goddamned uptight about EVERYTHING you won’t even bother to enjoy yourself. It was so nice to watch you just relax tonight, and talk to Boston like he’s a colleague and associate, not some enemy who was trying to destroy you.”
Wendy nodded silently, and broke into a small smile. “Well, I did have fun...” she admitted.
“See? I’m not saying you start dressing trashy and start walking around with a forty in your hand. Just don’t be so concerned about being proper the whole time. You don’t when we’re alone in the bedroo- EASY!”
Terrence was cut off as Wendy playfully elbowed him in the side, although perhaps not the wisest decision, considering he was driving. Still, Terrence managed to maintain control of the car. He sobered slightly, and looked back at his wife.
“Oh, I meant to tell you. Pollaski told me that Greer booked a Defiance camera crew in a few days.”
“So?” Wendy asked, not entirely sure where her husband was going with this. “Its expected he cut an interview before your match.”
Terrence nodded. “I just wanted to warn you. Politeness is not exactly Greer’s strong point. Especially where you’re concerned.”
Wendy grimaced, and nodded. “I should have expected. Ah well, I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
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Sunday August 22, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:21 PM Local Time
[Yeah... so THAT turned out to be an understatement]
[Well, Stephen Greer’s promo went live a few days after the Birdz trip to Boston’s club, and it became pretty clear from about the tenth second of the video that this was Stephen Greer at his nastiest.]
[Terrence and even Wendy had managed to take the abuse rather stoically, although Wendy was clearly visibly upset by some of the comments Greer made- especially about Theresa. Terrence just shook his head, said it was the mark of a desperate man to be saying such things, and prepared to shoot his own rebuttal.]
[Which pretty much brings us to where we are now. Terrence Thompson, livng room, on the couch.]
[Smiling?]
“Really, Steve?”
[its a fairly disingenous smile, but yeah. Smiling.]
“Do you really want to fucking go down this route?”
[Not to speek for Stevie here, but considering that promo, the answer would probably be ‘yes’]
“Because, Greer, I don’t think I am the one obsessed around here. I’ll admit, I have a long memory, and perhaps I’m a bit on the excessively bitter side over some of the things you have done to me and my wife in the past. But obsessed?”
[Quick shake of the head]
“Don’t flatter yourself, Greer.”
[Shrug]
“I won’t lie, you, and the rancid filth that spews from your mouth, have been on my mind quite a bit over the past few days. After all, you are my next opponent, and considering our placement on the card, I think this would qualify as a big match, and you can bet your hypodermic collection that I sure as hell want to win this contest. But don’t think for a second that I lose any sleep at night over you, Steve.”
[He did, however, lose a LOT of sleep when Wendy accidentally undercooked the meat while making pork chops the other day. If Greer wants to take credit for that, he’s more than welcome to.]
“You’re hardly worth staying awake for.”
[Neither were the pork chops]
“That video the other day? That was just me doing my job. Sitting down and talking about my upcoming match, and my opponent. I just decided the best thing to do was to tell the truth. After all, if I’m asked to sit down and tell the world exactly what I think of you, I’d be remiss if I held anything back, right?”
[Another shrug]
“But you want to talk about obsessed? Let’s flip things around a bit, Stevie.”
[FLIP!]
“During your past interview, I counted no less than nine references to the supposed condition of my wife’s genitalia and five allegations of Wendy’s infidelity.”
[Give or take]
“Seriously?”
[Terrence arches his eyebrow at the camera. He tries to look nonchalant, but there’s quite a bit of anger in his eyes.]
“You’re surrounded by ‘sun-tanned titties, loose legs, and heroin’, and yet you feel the need to make FOURTEEN sexual references about my wife in the course of one video? And you have the audacity of accusing ME of being obsessed?”
[Snort]
“Leave it to you to try and make shit personal. I suppose this is the point where I get all upset, or jealous, or something, but honestly, what point is there? After all, what’s another Defiance show without Steven Greer once again demonstrating that he has no class?”
[Another shrug]
“The fact of the matter is, everything you say, do, and are is a lie. Are you a talented competitor? Absolutely, But, so were Michael Vick and Barry Bonds. That doesn’t make any of you less of a disgrace to your respective sports.”
[Yeah, and Greer probably shoots‘roids at dogfights!]
“You’re still a cancer to this industry Greer, and you still need to be removed. And come Episode 6?”
[Pause, smirk]
“It’s time for surgery.”
[Fade]
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