EPISODE 52: Nana

Friday October 15, 2010
Indianapolis International Airport- Main Terminal
Indianapolis, Indiana
5;15 PM Local Time

“So, uh...” Terrence Thompson began, barely supressing a measure of hope in his voice. “If a plane crashes, do they say on here, or do they try to keep it a secret?”

‘Probably shouldn’t talk like that in an airport, dude,” Daniel Pollaski muttered by his side as both men looked up at the video screens that showed the day’s Departures and Arrivals. “You never know if someone with a very big badge and a even bigger gun and absolutely no sense of humor might be listening.”

“Sorry,” Terrence said, without any empathy whatsoever. “It’s not that I WANT the plane to crash... you know if she got sucked out of the airlock, or choked on an in-flight peanut, or got beaten to death by the other passengers, that’d be okay too...”

“What’d be okay?” a feminine voice asked, and Terrence jumped slightly as Wendy Briese-Thompson walked up next to him, clinging to her daughters little hand as she walked beside her. Wendy quickly pecked her husband on the cheek, than turned her attention to the video screens. “What was Nana’s flight number again?”

Terrence quickly pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, and opened it. “United Express 7515, in from O’Hare,” he muttered, looking back up at the screen.

“But I thought Gramma was coming from Belfast?” piped up Theresa, suddenly confused.

Wendy looked down and smiled, and squeezed her daughters hands. “She is, honey. They just don’t fly planes directly from Belfast to Indianapolis, so first Nana had to fly to London, then to Chicago, and then to here. She’s going to have had a long day. She’s going to be very tired.”

“Planes in,” Pollaski announced, and all eyes turned followed his pointing finger, to where ‘ARRIVED’ was flashing next to the flight information. Wendy broke into a nervous grin, while Terrence grimaced slightly.

“Well, we better get just outside security so we can greet her,” Wendy said brightly.

“Or at least get them to shoot her,” Terrence muttered under his breath, but not quite quiet enough to avoid a nasty glare from his wife.

Wendy redoubled the grip on her daughter’s hands and, the WhirlyBirdz followed in the wake of Pollaski (who was a natural crowd clearer), as they worked their way across the concourse. Finding an out of the way bench just outside the checkpoint, Wendy sat down, and began rooting through her purse, pulling out a hairbrush. “Come here, Theresa,” Wendy said, and the small girl, looking none too happy about what was about to happen, leapt up next to her mother on the bench.

“You’re brushing her hair again?” Terrence asked, his tone halfway between amazement and disgust. “You spent twenty minutes doing her hair at the house, and another fifteen in the car on the way over.”

“I... I know,” Wendy replied defensively, “but there’s a loose strand and...”

“...And you’re on the threshold of hitting ‘creepy child beauty pageant mom’ in obsessiveness, hon.” Terrence interrupted. “Her hair looks fine. Theresa looks fine. And You look fine. So quit spazzing.”

Even Wendy couldn’t miss the relieved expression on Theresa’s face when Terrence spoke up, and with a sigh, she relented. Without another word, she tucked the brush back into her purse, and sat quietly, although she wrung her purse strap repeatedly in her hand. While Theresa looked around in wonder at the many people bustling past, Terrence leaned back against the wall, looking at his manager helplessly.

“So what’s she like?” Pollaski asked, as he leaned against the wall next to Terrence and watched the security checkpoint.

“Completely neurotic.” Terrence said, rolling his eyes.

“I was actually talking about her grandma,” Pollaski responded with a grin, drawing a soft chuckle from Terrence.

“She came stateside for Christmas five years ago. Wendy and I had just gotten married, and we were settling in Indianapolis trying to start a family. Couldn’t go five minutes without her reminding Wendy what an awful choice of a husband I was.” Terrence responded, some bitterness tinging his voice. “Why the hell does her family hate me so much?”

“Must be a British thing,” Pollaski chuckled. “After all, the Belmonts are from there, and they hate you too.”

Terrence chuckled, then lowered his voice. “Wouldn’t be wise to call her British, dude. She hates anything and everything English. She’s Irish through and through, right on down to her name.”

“Oh, really?” Pollaski replied, arching an eyebrow.

“Nah, O’Reilly,” Terrence responded, lightly elbowing his manager in the side with a wink.

“Wow,” Pollaski responded, shaking his head in disgust.

Suddenly, Wendy stood up, her purse rolling down her lap and falling to the floor. The movement both caught the eye of Terrence and Pollaski, who turned to regard her. Wendy had turned pale, her emerald eyes wide in a state of alarm. “Th... that’s her,” she whispered, pointing at a woman exiting the security checkpoint.

For being in her late-seventies, Constance O’Reilly was in fairly good shape. Shorter than her granddaughter by a couple inches, and extremely thin, the woman nonetheless carried herself with a grace and sharpness that defied her years. Nonetheless, her bright white hair had thinned somewhat with age, but her eyes- the same vibrant shade of green as Wendy’s- shone brightly as she looked around the terminal as she walked, leaning on a cane for support.

“NANA!” Wendy cried as she scurried forward to embrace the woman. Without much of a choice, Terrence, Pollaski, and Theresa followed behind (although Terrence did think to grab Wendy’s forgotten purse). The woman, upon hearing the voice, turned towards the sound, and she broke into a smile at the red-haired woman rushing towards her.

“Gently now, dear,” the elderly woman said in a definitive Irish brogue as Wendy embraced her. “Me bones ain’t what they used to be.”

Wendy released her grandmother and stepped back, her eyes shining with tears, as Terrence, Theresa, and Pollaski approached from behind. “Thank you so much for coming to visit, Nana.” she said. “It’s so good to see you.”

“‘Tis good ta see you too, Gwendolyn,” Nana replied, “You’re every bit as beautiful as your mother was at your age.”

For a second, the only sound was the constant bustle of the other denizens of the airport. Pollaski over at Terrence and mouthed “Gwendolyn?”

Terrence showed absolutely no surprise at hearing the name, although he did look somewhat uneasy. But that was nothing compared to Wendy, who had turned beet red in about three seconds flat, and she was unconsciously rubbing the back of her neck.

“P..please don’t call me that,” she managed to stutter.

“And why shouldn’t I call me beautiful granddaughter by her beautiful name?” Constance replied sharply. “I don’t know why you-”

She was cut off as Pollaski, unable to control himself, interrupted. “Your name is GWENDOLYN?”

Terrence wasn’t sure how his wife managed to turn any more red, but she managed to pull off the feat, as she shot Pollaski and Terrence a panicked, pleading look.

“It was me mother’s name,” Constance replied sharply, shooting the portly manager a curious glare, before turning back to Wendy. “Honestly, dear, don’t you think you’ve grown a bit old for childish nicknames? Amongst other things,” she said, giving Terrence a meaningful look.

Terrence accepted the barb with a simple nod of his head, and placed a fixated smile across his lips. “Nice to see you again, Constance,”

“Mrs. O’Reilly!” the elderly woman snapped, with such force that even the PWX Grand Prix Champion was forced to take a step back. Constance looked from Terrence back to Pollaski, taking a brief measure of him. “I always knew you were a gay!” she snapped again, fixating her gaze firmly back on Terrence.

Terrence went complely bug-eyed, while Pollaski sputtered, then choked as a bit of saliva went down the wrong tube. As Terrence thumped his manager in the back, Wendy stammered to find a response.

“No... No!” she protested. “Terrence isn’t... he’s... VERY heterosexual, Nana,” she paused for just a second as the color flooded back into her cheeks. “Pollaski’s just a... well... he’s my manager. And he’s here because...” she paused, and looked over at Pollaski. “Why ARE you here?”

Pollaski shrugged. “It was either this or the movies.”

“Right,” Wendy said, wanting to steer the subject away. Finally, she saw the perfect direction for the conversation. “Theresa, come say hello to Nana.”

For her part, Theresa had been watching the exchange between the adults with an absolute blank expression, having absolutely no clue what they were talking about. But when her mother turned to her, Theresa bounded in, smiling shyly at the strange woman her mother had hugged.

Constance smiled warmly at her great-grandaughter. “And you must be Theresa,” she said, holding a wrinkled hand out, which the little girl took semi-reluctantly.

“Welcome to Indy-polis, Nana!” Theresa managed to squeak into the strange face.

“Thank you, Theresa, dear.” Constance replied, then immediately frowned. “Why is her hair such a mess?” she asked, looking reproachfully up at her granddaughter. “Look at these loose strands.”

Wendy suddenly went pale, “Um... I...?”

But Constance had already turned back to Theresa. “Tell you what, dearie. Once I get me luggage, I’ll get out me hairbrush, and we’ll make it right, so you don’t look like a street urchin.”

“Oh! Baggage claim!” Wendy said, her voice strangely fast-paced and high pitch. “Um, we REALLY should go there or else your bag will be too long on the conveyor belt and it will build up all kinds of static electricity and if you touch it you’ll elecrto...cute... your..self...” she stopped as she realized she was stammering, and the members of her group weren’t the only ones staring at her in concern. “It’s this way.” Wendy finally said meekly, pointing the direction from which the Birdz originally came.

“Well, then, shall we go?” Nana asked, looking down at Theresa, who nodded. Holding Theresa’s hand in her right, and her cane in her left, she hobbled off towards the baggage carousels.

As soon as she was a sizeable distance away, Wendy wheeled around at her husband, a snarl on her lips. “Thanks a lot, TERRY!”

As Wendy stormed off after her grandmother and daughter, Terrence stared after her, mouth agape. “What did I do?”

“Oh, I’m so glad I chose this over the movies,” Daniel piped up from next to him. “Although it kinda sucks not having popco-”

“Shut up, Pollaski,” Terrence growled, as he stalked after the rest of his family.


=======================
Friday October 15, 2010
The RV- Cockpit
Indianapolis, Indiana
9:10 PM Local Time

[The Nest has been invaded.]

[The enemy? Constance O’Reilly, aka “Nana”. In just a few short hours, this deceptively nasty old viper has managed to turn the Thompson family on its head. Needless to say, as soon as she arrived home from the airport, the criticisms- everything from the amount of dust in the hutch to the organization of the family DVD collection- began to fly. Not to emasculate the PWX here, but granny managed to do what no one in PWX has- make Terrence tap out, armed only with a razor sharp tongue.]

[Oh, and a cane, which, as poor Terrence’s instep can attest, she’s remarkably adept at using.]

[So, in desperate need to get away from Nana, Terrence has sought refuge in one of the two places he possibly could. And given that there’s no way in hell he’d ever enter Pollaski’s apartment without a life or death emergency at hand (although this is getting close), Terrence has decided to cut his promo for the week from the family RV.]

[And so that is where the scene opens, with Terrrence sitting in the driver’s seat of the RV, looking into the dashboard mounted camera. Due to the lack of engine noise, as well as no sense of motion coming from lights flashing by the window, its fairly safe to say that the RV’s not moving, just occupied. Which is really a good thing, because Terrence’s hands aren’t on the wheel, but rather behind his head as he leans back in his chair.]

“The world of sports is filled with heated rivalries. Opponents that you know will turn up the intensity every time they step into an arena together. Wolverines and Buckeyes. Cubs and Cardinals. The United States and Canada. Celtic and Rangers.”

[Short, cheesy grin from Terrence. Okay, so maybe he had to wikipedia the last one. But he had to come up with something for the benefit of those across the pond.]

“And now, dare I say, that the Birdz and the Belmonts have reached that status?”

[Small shrug.]

“I know I sure feel the intensity go up a few notches when I see either Valerie or Jeremiah’s name across from me on the lineup, and I know Wendy feels the same way as well. So when, for the first time, we face each other as teams, with the Tag Titles on the line, you know that the intensity is going to be through the roof.”

[As if already anticipating the coming fight, Terrence cracks his knuckles, then leans back in his chair again.]

“Now, I know, on an individual basis, I’ve had tremendous success against the Belmonts. Four matches, four victories for Terrence Thompson. Hell, both of my singles title reigns have come at their expense. But I know Jer and Val are the type of team where the whole is certainly greater than the sum of the parts. A couple of weeks ago, they faced Wendy and Ashley Graves, and they excelled at keeping my wife out of that match. They’re truly one of the great teams in the history of tag team wrestling.”

[Slight pause, and Terrence chuckles and shakes his head]

“So its almost baffling to hear what whiners they have become. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that the seven months the Belmonts were kept waiting is too damn long. Should we have faced them sooner in our reign? Perhaps. Should they have even been given a chance at the titles before us? Perhaps. But on either count, it didnt’ happen. Get over it, honestly.”

[A crooked smile, and a lopsided shrug]

“The hilarious part is, all this whining seems to be revolving around some mythical double standard. How the Belmonts were kept from a rematch for the titles because Jeremiah was on track to become the World Champion, and JPO doesn’t want double champions. It’s a fairly laughable notion, considering that Valerie Belmont was the Next Generation Champion when they won the titles in the first place. Also, while they were champions, Jeremiah was also granted a shot at the World title, as it was called back then, at Vendetta, in his homeland, in a match of his choosing. Almost predictably, he lost.”

[A brief pause.]

“Yeah, I know the pre-Birdz history of PWX.”

[Helps when you have a manager who doubles as the unofficial fed statistician]

“But let’s suspend reality here, and assume that this whole concept of eliminating double-champions is true. There’s still one very large difference between the Belmonts and the Birdz.”

[Terrence reaches down next to him, and pulls something off the floor beside him. Smirking, he holds it up in front of the camera, and we can see that its his half of the PWX Tag Team Titles]

“We never lost these.”

[Grinning, he sets the title on his lap, and cracks his knuckles again.]

“Had we lost them, and gotten an immediate rematch, THAT would have been a double standard, but that never happened. That’s really all the difference in the world, isn’t it? The Belmonts lost their titles to a makeshift tag team of Josh Graves and Devon Pooole, and yet they mock us for beating so-called makeshift tag teams. And predictably, their next line will be that Randy Treehugger interfered, costing them the match.”

[Scoff]

“Its almost a good excuse, except that I recall defending this in a match where the entire goddamned Cartel was allowed to run in against us, and yet, we’re still the champions. Do you honestly think that the management of PWX was going to deny me a chance at the Grand Prix title strictly on the basis that my wife and I are just too damned good a tag team?”

[Terrence chuckles a couple of times, and shakes his head, as if the very notion of it was ridiculous.]

“In fact, if I recall, it was just the opposite. It’s actually BECAUSE of the tag belts that I’m the Grand Prix champion. Or did anyone else forget how I came to be the number one contender?”

[smirk]

“That’s right. Brian Hollywood couldn’t stomach the thought of Wendy and I being the tag champions, so he offered up a wager- I win, I’m the number one contender, but if I lost, the tag titles were vacated. With my wife’s permission, I accepted the match. And there, I did what Jeremiah Belmont couldn’t do at Vendetta- I beat Brian Hollywood when everything was on the line.”

[Terrence chuckles softly, a small part of him giddy with the thought of Jeremiah Belmont grinding his teeth with the reminder.]

“And, that’s really what this rivalry is ultimately about. It’s plain as can be that the Belmonts are simply jealous of my wife and I.”

[Terrence shrugs matter-of-factly]

“I suppose I can’t really blame them. After all, earlier this year, Jeremiah and Valerie were the toast of PWX. Valerie was the Next Generation Champion, Jeremiah was the Legends Cup winner. The two hottest commodities PWX had, and them being vampires only added to their mystique.

[Terrence pauses for a second, as if he’s resisting the urge to say something else.]

“Not to mention it brought in the Twilight crowd...”

[Yeah, self-control was never exactly Terrence’s strongpoint. Terrence flashes a cheesy grin, but quickly manages to sober himself.]

“When Wendy and I joined the PWX, we were dismissed as simply Belmont clones. Hell, the first time I faced Valerie herself, she even mentioned it. And yes, there were, and still are, remarkable similarities between our two families. But then something funny happened.”

[Pause]

“People began to realize that maybe there was more to these WhirlyBirdz, after all.”

[Small shrug]

“Throughout the summer, you could see which of the two teams was rising, and which was falling. Jer and Val had to actually walk down to the ring and remind people that they were supposedly the ‘first family of PWX.’ Wendy and I? We didn’t need to say a damn word. We went out, and we won every single match we got entered in, and we let the fans decide for themselves who was better.”

[Terrence scoffs, and nods his head slightly]

“I don’t think the Belmonts were liking the answer to that question. But the thing is, while we were standing our ground against overwhelming odds, keeping Brian Hollywood from driving this company into the ground, they went and played ‘Days of our Lives’ with Tyler Graves.”

[Slight pause.]

“Actually, I guess ‘Dark Shadows’ would be a bit more appropriate, eh?”

[Ba-zing...]

“And the week of Civil War, while Jeremiah and Valerie were pointing and laughing at the ‘sheep’ that they had fooled into thinking they had broken up, I walked down to that ring, and I beat Jeremiah, and I took his title. And here I still stand, three months into one title reign, and nearly a month into the other.”

[Terrence leans over, and picks up his Grand Prix title belt off the floor. He slowly drapes it over one shoulder, then picks the tag belt up off his lap, and drapes it over the other shoulder]

“Jeremiah, Valerie. You can cry all you want about a double standard, but all you’re doing is using a crutch to cover your own inadequacies. I am the PWX Grand Prix Champion, and I am one half of the PWX Tag Team Champions, because I fucking earned it. I earned it by beating the Kings Among Men. I earned it by beating Pariah and Wild. And I earned it by beating you both.”

[Short pause, as Terrence looks into the camera. There’s no trace of a smile anymore, just a cold look of intensity.]

“You want a shot at these belts? You want a chance to become the two time PWX Tag Champions? You have it, in less than seventy-two hours, at the fiftieth Adrenaline. So quit your belly-aching, and get to training. Stop playing the vampire card. Stop playing the excuse card, and stopped playing the double standard card. Because NONE of it matters.”

[As he says the last of it, Terrence shakes his head.]

“All that matters is, when that bell rings, two families are going to collide, and one is going to walk with these belts, and their pride still intact. This isn’t about who the fans like more. This isn’t about whether Chloe or Theresa is going to be the happier little girl at the end of the night. All that this is about is finding out who the best goddamned tag team in PWX is.”

[One final smirk]

“When it’s come to you guys, I’ve never had a problem proving who is better.”

[Fade]