EPISODE 31: Screwjob

EPISODE 31: SCREWJOB

Monday July 26, 2010
ARC Center- Hallway
Valparaiso, Indiana
11:15 PM Local Time


“Well, THAT was stupid,” Wendy muttered to herself as she trudged through the backstage area. Adrenaline Forty had just gone off the air, and the road crews were busy breaking down the set, and turning the ARC Center back into normal. Sidestepping around a camera crew wrapping up cables, Wendy continued to make her way towards the WhirlyBirdz locker room.

She didn’t need a mirror to know that her lower lip had slightly swollen, and she winced at her idiotic decision to just start throwing punches at a man twice her size. And she knew the side of her abdomen was already starting to bruise where Wild had connected with a vicious punch, and she winced as she felt the tender area. Considering Wild’s reputation, a couple of bruises and a swollen lip were hardly the worst she could have come off.

Still, it had been the right thing to do. Jeremiah had obviously been outnumbered, and with Valerie out in Siberia, and Tabatha with her hands full dealing with Lillith Morgan, it was obvious Jeremiah needed a hand. Besides, after what Wild did to her the previous week, punching him in the face had felt pretty darn good.

She just wished he hadn’t hit back so hard.

Again, wincing at the dull pain in her side, Wendy swung open her locker room door. Her husband had already changed out of his ring gear, and was busying tying his sneakers as Wendy slumped in. He smiled at his wife.

“Where did you go?” Wendy demanded, harsher than she had intended to. Terrence had been going after John Pariah, but after Wild had connected with that hard shot to her side, and Wendy’s subsequent scramble to avoid any more punches, she had noticed her husband had disappeared.

Terrence shrugged. “All of a sudden, John just turned and ran. I figured the coward had enough, so I just came back here.”

Wendy walked to her own gym bag, and pulled out her street clothes, a pair of blue jeans and a sky-blue t-shirt. “He didn’t ‘run off’. He was circling around to go after Zion. The whole Cartel went after him, and Danny, Josh, Victor, and I ran back out to help.”

“Oh, great,” Terrence muttered, “Victor.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not any more of a fan of those bozos than we are,” Wendy said, unlacing her boots and kicking them to the side. “So then Nameless Mask comes out and, well... unmasks.”

“Damn,” Terrence said, surprised. “That was quick. Who was it?”

“Bryan Willett. I guess he was around in PWX’s first incarnation,” Wendy said, as she began to undress from her ring gear. “He’s after Darin Zion.”

Terrence snorted. “Well, more power to him, then.”

“Be nice,” Wendy said, wincing as she began to remove her top. “Darin may be a little childish at times, but he’s still a good person. And he’s got enough on his plate with that ordeal with the Lusts. He doesn’t need-”

“What the hell is THAT?” Terrence barked.

Wendy sighed as she quickly folded up her ring gear, and stuffed them into her duffel bag. Now that she was standing merely in her undergarments, the nasty bruise on her side was easily visible. She should have known he’d flip out like this.

“Wild got me.” Wendy said, tossing her boots, elbow pads, and gloves in the bag, and grabbing her shirt. “I’m fine.”

“That looks nasty,” Terrence said, clear worry etched on his features. “Maybe you should get it looked at...”

“I’m fine, Terry,” Wendy said adamantly, shooting her husband a glare. Even so, she couldn’t help but wince as she pulled her t-shirt over her head.

Just then, the locker room door cracked open, and Wendy looked up, her eyes going wide in alarm. She could hear her managers voice angrily yelling down the hallway at someone, but any second he would turn around and walk in. Ignoring the pain in her side, Wendy quickly finished putting on her shirt, and scrambled for her jeans.

Fortunately, her husband was on the ball. Quickly getting up from his chair, Terrence hit the door with a picture-perfect shoulder block, and was rewarded with Pollaski’s scream, followed by a loud crash, and the angry shouting of a stage hand.

“Fucker should learn how to knock,” Terrence snickered triumphantly as Pollaski’s yells joined in with the stagehand’s.

Wendy shot a grateful smile at her husband, and quickly put on her jeans, nodding to Terrence as she was now decent. Terrence returned to his seat, as Wendy sat down on another chair to pull on her shoes. The door opened again, and again, she heard her manager shouting.

“And you can tell Hollywood he can stick that camera up his ass, and give Chris Stern’s dick a break!” Pollaski screamed down the hall, then wheeled inside the locker room, slamming the door. “What the hell did you do that for?” he demanded at Terrence.

“The lady was dressing, and you didn’t knock,” Terrence responded calmly. “What was THAT all about?”

Pollaski glowered as he marched away from the door, grabbing a third chair, unfolding it, and plopping down on the seat, crossing his arms as he did so. “You made me stumble into a cameraman, and he dropped his equipment. Started bitching about making me pay for it, and I told him to fuck off. He’s off to go cry to Hollywood right now.”

Terrence shrugged, more or less unconcerned. “Yeah, what’s Hollywood going to do about it? Lose to Wendy again?”

Pollaski chuckled at Terrence’s jest, and even Wendy found herself smiling at the comment. But Pollaski’s laughter quickly faded, and he looked at Wendy and Terrence seriously. “They’re going to release the Respect is Earned lineup tomorrow. You’re defending against Wild and John Pariah.”

Both Birdz nodded, hardly surprised by the news. Wendy even managed a small smile. “I’m glad to see that Edward took my advice, and got himself a partner. It’ll be a relief when we can finally shut his big mouth up!”

Pollaski chuckled, although this time, there was little humor in it, and he grimaced. “Well, you won’t need to wait until Respect is Earned to do that. You’re one on one against Wild next week.”

Wendy smile broadened. “That’s great!”

“No, it isn’t,” Pollaski said quickly. He sighed, and looked the female WhirlyBird dead in the eye. “Pariah’s the referee.”

Wendy’s smile faded completely, but the reaction was nothing compared to that of her husband.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Terrence demanded, leaping out from his chair.

Pollaski shook his head glumly, and Wendy closed her eyes and grimaced. She would have loved to face Wild in singles competition, but with Pariah in the ring calling the shots, the deck was almost completely stacked against her.

Unless she could think of something quick, she was about to suffer the second loss of her PWX career.

Ignoring her husband’s pacing and his muttered threats, Wendy shot a plaintive look at her manager. “Any ideas how I can pull this one off?”

Pollaski shrugged. “Not right now, but I’ve got a week to think about it. Honestly, the match itself is meaningless. You defend your titles against the Cartel in two weeks regardless. It’s what they can do to you during the match that I’m worried about. Obviously, they’re anticipating Terrence being distracted by his big showdown with Dorling, which makes you even more of an easy target.”

“Yeah, well, screw that,” Terrence interjected angrily. “I’d rather lose to Dorling a hundred times than let those bastards get ahold of Wendy like that again. I figured the chair I delivered to Wild tonight would have sent a message.”

“It probably made things worse,” Wendy admonished, quietly. “Edward already hated me. Now he has that much more reason to.”

“You’re blaming me for this?” Terrence asked incredulously.

“No,” Wendy said, shaking her head. “While I wish you hadn’t hit Edward, what’s done is done. But I think the Cartel would have sprung this match on me regardless. Hollywood, Ojeda, and Pariah are bitter about us beating them, and Wild’s had a problem with us from the moment he returned. This is the perfect setup in their eyes.”

“I’m surprised you’re not angry about this,” Terrence said, folding his chair up and tossing it against the wall.

“I’m furious,” Wendy admitted, looking over at Terrence. “I think they’re going to do something to make sure I can’t compete at Respect is Earned. But I’m not going to panic or overreact. That’s exactly what they want me to do.”

“What are you going to do?” Terrence asked, looking at his wife, a worried expression on his face.

Wendy cracked a small smile. “What I do best. If there’s a way to win, I’ll find it. If not...” she trailed off, looking away.

“We’ll find a way,” Pollaski said encouragingly. “You’re better than both those bastards combined, anyways. Its the striped shirt we’re going to have to get around.”

Wendy nodded, and rose from her chair, grabbing her bag as she did. “Well, it doesn’t do us any good sitting around here, worrying about it. Let’s find Theresa and Cassie, and head back to the RV.”

The two men in the room nodded, and, grabbing their things, they followed Wendy out the door.


Wednesday July 28, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:10 PM Local Time

[Home sweet home.]

[Since the Birdz left The Nest last Friday Morning, they have driven to Chicago, flown to Salt Lake City, flown to Spokane, beat the Angel of Death (well, just Terrence did), flown to Minneapolis, flown to Chicago, driven to Valparaiso, beat Xander Crewes and Scott Styles, ran out to fight off the Cartel, and driven back home to Indianapolis, arriving early Tuesday afternoon.]

[Needless to say, the Birdz pretty much slept the rest of Tuesday away, and woke up reinvigorated this fine morning. Good thing too, as both Birdz have enormous matches to get ready for this week.]

[Not to mention that the lawn needs to be mowed, and there’s a really funny smell coming out of the garage.]

[Anyways, its promo time for everyone’s favorite (mortal) redhead, and once again, Wendy’s perched herself on the couch, wearing a simple cream-colored blouse and a calf-legnth black skirt. As usual, Wendy sits fairly rigidly, her emerald eyes boring into the camera.]

[Needless to say, she’s not happy.]

Wendy: “Edward Burden.”

[That would be why Wendy’s not happy. Ever notice how she refuses to refer to Wild by his ring name?]

Wendy: “Finally, over the next couple of weeks, we will have a chance to settle the differences between us.”

[There is a grim smile on Wendy’s face. On one hand, she’d love to beat the ever-loving crap out of Wild for what he did to her after her match with Hollywood (not that she’d ever use those words). On the other hand, well, she’s kind of in trouble.]

Wendy: “Your hatred of Terrence and I has been well documented. You accosted me in the hallway back at Adrenaline 38. You jumped me from behind at Adrenaline 39. You can’t go a single interview without reminding the world how weak and pathetic you think Terrence and I are. Its almost fascinating. Before our encounter in the hallway, you and I have never met before, and yet the venom you have for us is as strong as anyone I’ve ever had to face.”

[Wendy sighs, shrugging.].

Wendy: “I’m still not even sure why. Obviously you feel threatened by us in some way. So much so, that you’ve felt the need to make John Pariah- your own tag team partner for our coming showdown- the referee for our match on Monday.”

[There’s that customary red flash in Wendy’s emerald irises, a clear indication that she’s angry. She even gives a short, harsh laugh at how brazen the Cartel is for even sticking her in such a match.]

Wendy: “I’ve seen many cowardly tactics during my five years competing, but this honestly takes the cake. You just beat Danny Szatkowski cleanly in the middle of the ring. You destroyed John King in the blink of an eye last week. And yet- you need help to face me?”

[A small, humorless smile.]

Wendy: “I suppose I should be flattered.”

[Snort of derision.]

Wendy: “I know a setup when I see one, Edward. You and the rest of the Cartel seem to have figured out that the best way to remove the tag team titles from our waists is to take me out before our match can even begin. After all, what chance could I possibly have when the referee himself is out to get me? Even if I get your shoulders to the mat, will Pariah make the count? Even if I inflict so much pain on you, that you tap out for the whole world to see, will Pariah ring the bell? I strongly doubt it.”

[Wendy pauses, and takes a deep breath. Beneath the anger in her eyes, there is clear worry. Obviously, this is hardly a situation she wants to be getting into.]

Wendy: “Even so, I will be in that ring Monday, because unlike you, I do not take the easy way out. I won’t guarantee victory, but if there is a way to defeat you, I will find it. And I guarantee that no matter what you or Pariah try, I will survive it. And I will be at Respect is Earned, standing alongside my husband. And Terrence and I WILL defeat you and Pariah, and retain our titles.”

[Another grim smile from the small redhead, as she looks directly into the camera.]

Wendy: “I’m not about to make this easy for you, Edward. Every victory in this sport comes at a price, and I intend to make the price you pay as steep as possible. The currency will be every purple bruise, every weakened joint, and every sore muscle I inflict on you. And as the price begins to add up, you best consider whether or not this match is really worth it. Because in two weeks, at Respect is Earned, Terrence and I will be collecting in full.

[One final angry glare.]

Wendy: “When that happens, you better hope you have sufficient funds left in your account.”

[Fade]