EPISODE 36: Goodbye, Victor

Tuesday August 10, 2010
The Nest- Dining Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
9:15 AM Local Time

Pro Wrestling X would like to wish Victor Mandrake well in all his future endeavors.

Wendy Briese-Thompson stared quietly at the announcement on the PWX Newswire, then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Finally,” she exhaled.

She had no illusions that she would never see the monster again. With Terrence and Mandrake still in Defiance, they were bound to still run into each other. And since Mandrake had visited the house before, the only thing that would stop Victor from visiting The Nest were the inevitable consequences of doing so (such as Terrence killing him). But at least from one aspect of her life, Victor Mandrake was truly, irrevocably GONE.

And yet, the elation of that fact was somewhat tempered by the guilt that had settled into the bottom of her stomach. She disliked Mandrake- perhaps even hated him. But she derived no joy in watching what had happened to him. And even worse, Wendy knew that it had all come about because Victor Mandrake had tried to save her from a beating.

It wasn’t the way she hoped it would happen, but she’d take it.

“Goodbye, Victor,” Wendy said quietly, closing the FireFox window on her laptop.

It was over.
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Wednesday August 11, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:10 PM Local Time

Wendy winced as Ben Steven’s foot smashed into the side of Jenna Himmler’s head, the smaller blonde’s eyes nearly rolling back in her head as she pitched face first to the mat. She had seen the move exactly seven times over the past couple hours, and still it made her wince. For Jenna Himmler to be able to move after taking that showed that the new girl had a toughness and resiliency.

Seven times, she had watched the Welcome to PWX match, because it was the only in-ring footage of Jenna Himmler that existed. It was irritating, because the match was a four-way battle, and there was simply too much going on with everybody for Wendy to get an accurate gauge on Jenna’s strengths and weaknesses.

The one thing she could figure out was that Jenna was an opportunist. She had taken advantage of the chaos that comes with a four-way match masterfully, she picked her shots carefully, and while Wendy wasn’t exactly approving in some of the methods Jenna used, she couldn’t deny the girl was effective.

“I love the expression on Luke’s face when Ben Stevens nailed him,” a male voice snickered to the side of her. Wendy nodded quietly as she watched Blue and Steven’s tumble out of the ring, then watched impassively as Jenna perched herself on the top turnbuckle, hit the Lufthansa Bomb, and score the win.

Opportunist, indeed.

This match was making her nervous. Something told her that Himmler was no ordinary rookie. What little information she could gain on the woman indicated that while Himmler was new to professional wrestling, she had been in street fights for the better part of the past decade. Besides, any girl who ran with John Ojeda had to be tough as nails.

Wendy pursed her lips, and leaned back on the couch. She had one match to go on for Himmler, and it was hardly a good gauge of the full extent of Jenna’s talents. Meanwhile, Jenna had nearly a score of matches of Wendy’s to look at, and with a man like Ojeda working with her, she had no doubt that Himmler would be more prepared for this match than anyone else was going to think.

But Wendy looked back over at the television. After the conclusion of the match, Pollaski had left the video running, and she was treated to a glimpse of her, repeatedly firing clotheslines into Wild, trying to knock the larger man off his feet. That realization sent a jolt of shock into Wendy. She was a PWX Tag Team Champion, and had made a name for herself beating men twice her size. How the heck was she going to lose to a rookie? It was inconceivable!

If you think the ‘little’ matches don’t matter, try losing one.

She couldn’t remember when she had heard that saying, or who had told her that, but someone had, told her that very early in her career, and she had always taken it to heart. This week was going to be no exception. Regardless of her information, or lack thereof, she was the seasoned veteran here. She’d have no excuse for losing.

“I’m home!” the voice of her husband echoed in from the front entryway, breaking into Wendy’s thoughts. Wendy looked up as Terrence Thompson strolled into the room, a bag from NAPA slung over one of his arms, and a stack of envelopes in his hand. Wendy hopped up from the couch, and embraced her husband, giving him a quick kiss. Theresa bounded into the room as well, making a beeline for the couch, and hopping next to Pollaski, who smiled and tousled her hair.

After Wendy broke away, Terrence began looking through the envelopes. “I got the mail,” he unnecessarily explained to his wife. Terrence paused, looking at a manilla envelope in his hand. “You got something from Notre Dame?” he asked.

Breaking into a grin, Wendy snatched the envelope from Terrence’s hands, ripping it open with the aura of a child on Christmas morning. ‘Yes!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “Its our tickets!”

“Our... tickets?” Terrence asked arching his eyebrow.

“Oh,” Wendy froze, suddenly realizing something very important she had forgotten to tell her husband. “I got us all season tickets to the Irish. I figured that with us being in Valparaiso every weekend, and South Bend so close, and Brian Kelly the new head coach, and...”

Wendy broke off from her excited rambling at Pollaski’s groan. “Well, then YOU don’t have to go,” she snapped. “It’s not MY fault we beat your Huskies twice in the past-”

Terrence knew a fight brewing when he saw one, and he quickly grabbed another envelope. “You also got something from the Attorney General.”

“Election stuff,” Wendy said dismissively, rolling her eyes, but Terrence shook his head. “It looks pretty official.”

Looking more curious than anything, Wendy grabbed the envelope, tearing it open, and removing a small packet of papers. She began reading the pages, her mood darkening with every word.

“What is it?” Terrence asked, concern coming over his features.

“It’s a notification about my father’s parole hearing.” Wendy whispered in horror. “It’s scheduled for mid-October.”

‘What?” Terrence outburst, his mouth dropping in shock and anger. “That bastard was even ELIGIBLE for parole?”

Wendy nodded grimly, and angrily stuffed the papers back in the envelope. Gus Briese was the one man in the world she hated more than anyone else, and that included Victor Mandrake. She couldn’t feel any different about the man who had cheated on her mother, then murdered her by shoving her in front of a semi truck on the highway almost eight years ago.

Even worse had been the trial, when Gus, the consummate actor that he was, had so expertly portrayed himself as the victim. Wendy had listened with horror as her mother was turned into an alcoholic slut, and herself into an ungrateful bitch of a daughter who had betrayed her own father. Even though the jury had still convicted him, it was on a lesser second-degree charge. Hence, the parole.

“He won’t get it,” Terrence said reassuringly. “No parole board in the world would ever let that monster out of prison.”

Wendy felt a liquid trickling down her cheek, and she angrily wiped the tear away. Her father or not, this man had ruined too many lives. It had long been rumored that one of the reasons the Briese’s had even come to America was because the investigation into Gus’ alleged ties with funding Irish terrorist organizations had become too hot. Wendy had long believed the rumors false, but knowing her father as she did now, she found it all too believable that Gus would have funded the bombings and assassinations he had been tied to.

Gus needed to pay for more than just the murder of her mother.

“I need to lie down,” Wendy said, handing the envelope back to Terrence, and turning to walk away.

Terrence, however, grabbed her, and pulled her into his embrace. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered into her ear. Wendy nodded, more water leaking from her eyes, and Terrence kissed her on the forehead. He finally let go, and Wendy turned away again, walking to the stairs.

Terrence sighed, and turned back to Pollaski and Theresa. Pollaski had turned pale, but his eyes were narrowed, and he was shaking his head in disbelief. Theresa, on the other hand, was wide eyed, and confused.

“What wrong with mama?” the four-year old asked.

Terrence said nothing, just looked to Pollaski. There was nothing he really could say.

How the hell do you explain to a four-year old that her grandfather is a monster?
========================================================================
Sunday August 15, 2010
Embassy Suites Hotel- Suite 716
Santa Monica, California
4:24 PM Local Time

[Wait.. what are the WhirlyBirdz doing in California?]

[Well, like was announced in Pollaski’s Power X column earlier this week, Daniel’s making his in-ring debut today in Catholic Panda Wrestling, one of PWX’s many affiliates.]

[It’s also owned by Valerie Belmont, another PWX figure. How bout them apples?]

[Anyways, Wendy seems to have managed to get herself some alone time, as the rest of the gang has headed out to the Santa Monica Pier to get in some sightseeing. Wendy’s elected to stay behind, and get her interview video done, considering that she’s running out of time.]

[And so we open in the front room of an Embassy Suites suite, where Wendy is sitting on a couch. Even being in SoCal hasn’t done much to Wendy’s dress code, as it’s she’s decked out in a fairly conservative knee-legnth light green floral dress.]

[For having just had a traumatic experience about her father a couple days ago, Wendy looks to be in pretty good spirits. She’s still sitting as rigidly as ever, but her face- it’s not the normally warm smile that’s plasterd across her face. Nope, the best way to describe Wendy right now would be smug.]

Wendy: “Well, that paid off rather nicely.”

[Wendy can’t help herself- she breaks into an ear to ear grin. After the win she and Terrence pulled off at Respect is Earned, she’s got a right to be upbeat.]

Wendy: “To beat a team like John Pariah and Wild- especially when the stipulations in the match favor them, you can’t hold anything back. We knew we were going to have to take some risks, and if it means keeping these belts from the waists of despicable people like the Cartel, I would let myself be powerbombed a hundred times over.”

[Wendy may not use weapons, but she’s not above becoming one!]

Wendy: “And considering I keep having people asking this, let me just say- yes, it did hurt. Although not as bad as I thought. John Pariah made an excellent landing cushion.”

[Another grin from Briese, although Wendy almost looks guilty that she’s having so much fun at her opponents expense. Finally, Wendy’s smile fades, and she sighs.]

Wendy: “But we move onward, to Adrenaline 42, where I face Jenna Himmler in her first one-on-one match.”

[Wendy’s smile fades completely as she enters into the subject of this week. Obviously, Wendy’s not a fan of Jenna Himmler, nor what she stands for. She’s also been fairly annoyed that Pollaski’s been goose-stepping all week, solely for the purpose of driving her nuts. He’s succeeded. Big time.]

Wendy: “I suppose many ‘experts’ would pick me as the favorite going into this match. After all, I have over five years of in-ring experience under my belt, and this is Jenna’s second wrestling contest ever. But beneath the surface, this is actually a challenging matchup. What little experience Jenna has in the ring, she more than makes up for with her experiences outside of it. Many streetfighters have gone on to have very successful in-ring careers, and if I’m not careful, I could very well be Himmler’s first stepping stone.”

[Wendy shakes her head, and in her face, there’s a bit of anger, and a bit of sorrow..”

Wendy: “Under normal circumstances, I would be excited about the challenge this contest holds. I’m honestly not used to facing people smaller than me, and I outweigh Jenna by a whopping five pounds. I’ve been working all week on adapting to face smaller, quicker opponents. At least, for once in my life, I’ll actually get to suplex somebody.”

[A small smile from Wendy. It’s one of the frustrations of the poor girl- Wendy can do quite a few good suplexes, but considering she’s about a hundred pound lighter than her average opponent, she doesn’t get to do them that often.]

Wendy: “But while it won’t be easy, I still think my knowledge and experience will get me the victory on Monday. Jenna did very well in her debut, beating three other guys. But how is Miss Himmler in a one-on-one situation? When four people are in the ring, focus changes quickly. You could be fighting one person one second, and then a completely different person the next. And it’s all too easy to be so focused on one person, you get blindsided by another. We saw that way too often in her debut match. This week, however, its just me and her in that ring. There won’t be anyone else to distract me.”

[Pause, as something suddenly hits the redhead]

Wendy: “Unless someone interferes, which, considering her boyfriend is a member of the Cartel, is actually a very strong possibility.”

[Wendy grimaces at the though of dealing with more Cartel bullshit. She’s getting annoyed with it.]

Wendy: “Jenna, you and I are so different, and yet, we both have one thing in common. Both of us thinks the other is naive for their ideals. I would be more than happy to judge you as a wrestler, and not on your ideals, but when you saddle yourself with the ring name The Aryan Princess, you’re asking to be identified that way.”

[Wendy shakes her head sadly.]

Wendy: “I think its fairly safe to say you hate me, Jenna. You don’t like my ideals, you don’t like the way I wrestle, you want to see me get hurt. But let’s not stop there. Do you really want to hate me, Jenna? Then look at this.”

[Wendy calmly raises her right hand, and reaches into the top of her dress. Calmly, she pulls out a gold chain that’s around her neck, and tucked into her dress. She lets the gold chain, and the item at the end of it, rest against her chest, the chain still around her neck.]

[Even without the camera zooming in, we can see it’s a rosary.]

Wendy: “I’m Catholic”

[Wendy’s voice is cool, but her emerald eyes are blazing into the camera, as Wendy pauses, to let her revelation sink in.]

Wendy: “Are you confused? See Jenna, I know my history, and I know that while it wasn’t nearly as widespread and horrendous as the atrocities against the Jews, persecution of Catholics existed in Nazi Germany as well. Clergy in Germany were captured and taken to concentration camps. Nearly half of the priesthood in the city of Chelmno, Poland was executed inside that city’s death camp. A priest and a nun that perished in the Auschwitz concentration camp were later canonized as martyred saints. Even in America, one of the tenants of the Ku Klux Klan was the removal of Catholics from offices of power.”

[Wendy’s eyes are blazing hotter now than before, and she idly grabs at her rosary, again holding it up for all to see.]

Wendy: “Take it all in. Because I wouldn’t want you to go into our match without enough hatred for me. “

[Wendy blinks, and it’s clear that while she’s doing her best to remain calm, it’s obvious that she’s fairly angry at the whole notion of what Jenna Himmler is.]

Wendy: “Come Monday night, every ounce of hatred that’s in your heart is going to make it that much more bitter for you when I beat you in the middle of the ring. When you walk to the back, your head hung in shame, you will know that you just got bested by a goody-two-shoes Irish-catholic girl. That’s the downside of hatred, when you’re bested by that thing you hate- it’s makes the sting of defeat that much more painful.”

[Yipes. Wendy might just be taking this match a little personally.]

Wendy: “But there’s one thing, Jenna, that you haven’t been able to figure out. You say I THINK I can win my matches without cheating or using weapons?”

[Wendy flashes a humorless smile.]

Wendy: “I KNOW I can. I already have, time and again. There is nothing you can throw at me, from a punch, to a kick, to a chair, that I cannot endure. And when you’ve thrown everything you can think of at me, and I’m still standing proud...

[Short pause, and when Wendy speaks, her eyes are narrowed, and she finishes off with as much disdain in her voice as we have heard from anyone.]

Wendy: “I will ground your precious Lufthansa. Permanently.”

[Fade]