EPISODE 39: Tantrum

Monday August 23, 2010
ARC Center- Hallway
Valparaiso, Indiana
11:04 PM Local Time

Terrence Thompson hummed under his breath as he swaggered his way through the ARC Center’s back hallways. He couldn’t help himself- after spending the entire summer watching Jacob
Wright and Jeremiah Belmont trade the PWX Grand Prix title between themselves, he was finally back in the number one contender’s spot. All he had to do was sit back, and wait just one more week for Belmont and Wright to settle it between them once and for all, and he knew who his final hurdle would be.

It didn’t matter who he had to face, Terrence had already decided. He had reasons to want to beat both men, The important thing was that he not blow it this time. He had gone into Full Throttle overconfident, firmly believing that Jacob Wright was a paper champion, and it had cost him big. This time, however...

Well, this time was going to be different. Terrence was never a man for humility, but the loss to Wright had forced some into him. It had reminded him that anything is possible once the bell rings, and he needed to be on his guard. He looked forward to showing Wright or Belmont how well he had learned that lesson.

But until then, Terrence mused, he could do aught but sit and wait while Wright’s and Belmont’s spat played out. In the meantime, Terrence was enjoying a well-deserved week off from active competiiton. It had been weird, attending an Adrenaline without a match to prepare for, but Terrence had found ways to make use of his time. Other than the interview to start the show, Terrence had been relaxing in the back, save for a quick appearance in the concourse, where he had signed autographs for several surprised fans.. And, of course, there was that thrilling victory his wife had pulled out over Devon Poole.

Now, out in the ring, the main event was going on, Wendy standing vigilantly at ringside, making sure nobody interfered in the contest. Terrence picked his pace up a little bit. If he was lucky enough, he would be able to catch the end of the contest.

Instead of the volume of a television, however, Terrence opened the locker room door to the sound of his daughter bawling. Theresa sat in a chair, wailing, tears streaming down her face, while Cassie, the Birdz travel-along nanny, knelt in front of her, trying to shush and calm the girl.

“What happened?” Terrence demanded in alarm as he took in the scene.

Cassie turned towards the sound of his voice, and Terrence was stunned to see that she too looked upset- even on the verge of tears. “Didn’t you see?” the blonde woman asked weakly.

“See what?” Terrence’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What happened, Cass?”

“Mommy!” Theresa bawled again, in a fresh wave of sobs.

Cassie gulped. “The... the Cartel just attacked Wendy. That biker-”

Terrence didn’t need to hear anymore. “Stay here!” Terrence ordered, cutting Cassie off with a bleat, then he tore from the room. He hated to leave behind his daughter upset like that, but he had to get to his wife.

Terrence sprinted through the hallways, dodging backstage crewmen breaking down the show, almost leaping over a kneeling man who was winding up a cable. Without preamble, he burst into the medical area, looking around wildly. “Where is she?”

‘“We already released her,” one of the trainers, weary from another long night, said. “She took a hard lump, but there’s not even a concussion.”

Terrence breathed easier, knowing that his wife was at least not seriously injured, although it did raise a new set of concerns- if Wendy was on her way back to their locker room, he would have ran into her.

Giving a thankful nod to the helpful medic, Terrence then left the medical room, wondering where he would even begin to look for his wife.

The sound of a crashing noise attracted his attention, and, curious, Terrence slowly walked towards the source of the noise. Another crash followed, this one accompanied by a feral shriek. Terrence, his curiosity certainly piqued, rounded a corner in the hallway..

Terrence’s jaw dropped as he saw Wendy, her face contorted with rage, repeatedly ramming a small flatscreen monitor against the wall, pieces of glass flying in every direction with each hit. Nearby, two stunned crew members watched the spectacle in about the same fashion rubberneckers watched the aftermath of a train wreck.

With another rage-filled shriek, Wendy threw the remnants of the monitor down, and drove her foot into the shattered electronic. With all the force she could muster, Wendy then kicked the monitor, soccer style- right at Terrence.

Terrence nimbly leapt out of the way as the broken monitor skidded by him, bits of circuitry falling out all the way. Wendy, realizing she had almost hit someone with her kick, glared at the intruder- until she realized it was her husband.

All the rage seemed to melt away from Wendy, replaced by a look of shame akin to that of a child caught in a wrongdoing. For his part, Terrence slid a foot behind the monitor, and with a kick of his own, sent the monitor skittering back towards Wendy.

“Don’t let me interrupt you,” he said mildly.

Wendy stared as the monitor slid to a stop in front of her, then back at her husband. Terrence could see her emerald eyes were shining with tears of frustration and shame. “Come on, hon, let’s go.” Terence said gently, holding out his arm. Wendy paused for only a second longer, then walked towards Terrence, accepting his arm around her shoulders as he led her away from the carnage.

“What happened out there?” Terrence asked gently, as the two slowly headed back towards their locker room.

Wendy looked at him in astonishment. “You didn’t see?”

Terrence shook his head. “No. I missed the whole match. I only knew about it after I walked into our locker room and Theresa was crying-”

“Theresa saw that?” Wendy asked in horror. The prospect of her daughter witnessing such a horrible thing happening to her seemed to be the last straw for her, and the tears began to leak from her eyes. “She... she shouldn’t have had to... see that...” Wendy stammered, trying to keep control of her voice.

“That shouldn’t have had to happen to you,” Terrence said fiercely. “What happened?”

“What do you think happened, Terry?” Wendy demanded, suddenly angry again. “They attacked from behind! Just like they always do!”

Terrence took the burst of anger stoically, only hugged his wife tighter to him as they continued to walk.

“I’m sick of it, Terrence,” Wendy said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sick of going out there, night after night, giving everything I have, and then being jumped by Brian and his cronies!”

Terrence nodded in agreement. “They’re afraid of you... of us.” Terrence said consolingly. “And isn’t that why you joined the resistance?”

“What good was the resistance tonight?” Wendy demanded. “What good is the resistance at all? No matter how many times we fight back, no matter how many matches we win, Brian Hollywood’s still our boss, and he’s still going to lord it over us!”

“So you wanna quit?” Terrence asked, shrugging. “There isn’t a fed in America that wouldn’t leap at the chance to have the Birdz on their roster.”

Wendy shook her head. “PWX is such a nice fit for us, though. It’s close to home, its great competition. I just wish there was a way to...”

“What?” Terrence interrupted gravely. “Remove Brian Hollywood as our boss? Because that ain’t gonna happen, Wendy.”

Wendy stopped dead in her tracks, almost causing Terrence to fall down. Concerned, Terrence looked back at her, but he was relieved to see no more tears running down her cheeks. In fact, Wendy seemed to be thinking pretty hard.

“What?” Terrence asked stupidly.

“There’s a way...” Wendy said, her face brightening with each passing second. “It’s... so... simple. I can’t believe I never thought of it!”

“Wait... what?” Terrence asked, thoroughly confused.

Wendy blinked, and looked at her husband, as if she had forgotten he was there. Suddenly, she flashed one of her trademark beaming smiles, and started to walk away. “Come on, Terry, let’s get back to the locker room, and get out of here,”

The sudden reversal of Wendy’s mood was strange to Terrence, and he could only stare after his wife in amazement. “What are you on about?”

Wendy didn’t even turn around, just continued to keep walking. “I know how to save the PWX!”

====================================================
Wednesday August 25, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
1:38 PM Local Time

[Terrence Thompson sitting on his living room couch. Street clothes, white background.]

[Go]

“I believe I made it very clear that members of my family were not to be attacked.”

[Terrence arches an eyebrow, feigning confusion.]

“Which is funny, because at the conclusion of last weeks Adrenaline, I could have sworn that when the Cartel jumped the Resistance, my wife was one of the people standing in that ring.”

[Terrence pauses, a lopsided frown on his face.]

“Gentlemen, we seem to be having a failure of communication.”

[Head shake]

“When my wife was attacked from behind after her win over Hollywood, I said please.”

[Pause]

“When we were attacked in our own locker room at Respect is Earned, I said pretty please.”

[Another pause]

“And now?’

[A third pause, then Terrence gives a feral grin.]

“See, what made this little incident even worse, is that fortunately, the previous times the Cartel jumped us, my daughter wasn’t around to see it. Monday night, my own daughter watched her mother get hit with a jug of water, and driven head first into the mat with the Viking Sledge.”

[While it’s been fairly obvious that Terrence hasn’t been happy the whole promo, this is the first point where he looks downright pissed.]

“That made my daughter, cry.”

[Terrence shaked his head, his eyes narrowing.]

“And now I have to punish the bad men who hurt mommy.”

[Uh oh.]

“So, like pagans desperate to appease an angry god, the Cartel has offered up a sacrifice. Wild, who surely cannot be in Hollywood’s good graces after that pathetic forty-four second showing against Luke Blue, has been granted to me so that I may take out my rage on him.”

[Another feral grin]

“Brian, I accept your sacrifice.”

[Grin disappears]

“But in no way am I appeased.”

[Small pause, as Terrence turns his attention directly to his opponent.]

“Wild, you were one of the first people I warned about staying the (f-bomb) away from my family, and you refused to listen. So I want to make it crystal clear what will happen to you on Tuesday Night.”

[Terrence leans over, his brown eyes boring into the camera. Finally, he breaks into another feral grin.]

“Your career is forfeit.”

[Smirk]

“Yeah, its not nice, but we’ve made it perfectly clear, Wild. If you have a problem with either of us, all you need to do is ask us for a match, and we can settle it. The problem is, you can’t settle it that way, can you? You couldn’t beat Wendy. You couldn’t beat the both of us. And you sure as hell can’t beat me.”

[Small nod from Terrence]

“But I’m going to beat you, Wild. Oh dear God am I going to beat you.”

[Another smirk]

“And I hope the rest of the Cartel buddies are watching. I hope every single one of them, from Lillith Morgan to John Ojeda to the boss himself, watches as the EMT’s carry your broken body from the ring. I hope it sends a clear message to the world what happens when you (f-bomb) with Terrence Thompson’s family.”

[Pause]

“Because Wild, you won’t be able to stop the Mechanical Mayhem.”

[Another full glare into the camera]

“But Terrence Thompson is going to END you.”

[Terrence rises from his seat, and stalks by the camera, not even bothering to shut it off. Off screen, we can hear the sound of a door slamming. Then, nothing but silence, and the image of a couch with a white wall behind it. This goes on for several seconds, then Wendy walks into the picture, the small redhead sitting down on the couch. She doesn’t even seem to notice the camera, so engrossed is she with her mobile phone.]

[Wendy finally hits the call button, and holds the phone to her ear, patiently waiting. She suddenly sees the camera, and rolls her eyes.]

Wendy: “Terrence, you’re going to kill the battery...”

[Resigned to having to clean up after her husband, Wendy rises from the couch, heading towards the camera. As she reaches for it, apparently whoever’s on the other line has finally picked up.]

Wendy: “Hello. May I please speak to Mr. Olesen? Yes... this is Wendy Briese. I’m a former employee of his.”

[Unfortunately, before any more of this development can air, Wendy’s fingers find the power button for the camera]

[Cut feed]