EPISODE 55: Closing Time

Friday October 22, 2010
Thompson Auto- Lobby
Indianapolis, Indiana
4:51 PM Local Time

“SEVEN THOUSAND DOLLARS? THIS IS A FUCKING ROBBERY!”

Terrence Thompson rubbed the inside corners of his eyes as if he had a migraine. For all he knew- he did have one.

Even though Terrence had devoted his life once again to professional wrestling, he hadn’t forgotten his obligation as half-owner of Thompson Auto, and he always made it a point to help out in the shop whenever he good. Normally, he had no problem giving up some of his free time to assist his uncle in running the auto repair center- hell, automobiles had been his passion well before he had even thought of becoming a professional wrestler, and Terrence still enjoyed tackling the problem of making a car work.

Like most jobs, however, some days, things could be just a real pain in the ass.

Terrence looked at the irate customer, briefly envisioning the hilarity that would ensue if he ever got to face the little twerp in a wrestling ring. He managed to somehow disguise his loathing, however, and tried to reply in as calm and rational a voice as he could.

“Look, *sir*. You asked us to run an inspection of the car before you gave it to your daughter as a birthday present, and we ran the inspection. *THAT* is what we found, and *THAT* is what we believe it’s going to cost to fix. Its up to you what you want to do.”

“Yeah, well half of this is bullshit!” the man (who reminded Terrence of a scrawny Ojeda with hair) replied angrily. “Abs? What the fuck are abs on a car?”

“That’s Aye-Bee-Ess,” Terrence replied through clenched teeth. “Anti-Lock Braking System. Yours is malfunctioning. If you want to only fix some of it, that’s fine, but honestly, I almost think it’d be safer- and cheaper- if you went to a reliable dealer and bought a used car.”

He couldn’t say it any plainer than that, and he hoped that the man would heed his warning. Both Terrence and his Uncle Steve had always prided themselves on being up front with customers, telling them what was best for them, not what was best for the shops bookeeping. It had garnered them a decent reputation throughout Indianapolis.

“”I’m not going to get another goddamned car!” the man screamed back at Terrence. “My daughter was born in that car!”

“Yeah, well, if you let her drive it without getting it fixed, she might die in that car too.” Terrence replied in as calm a voice as he could, although he was starting to get really sick of this idiot.

“HOW DARE YOU!” the man howled in rage. “You have no right to-”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to take your business elsewhere.” Terrence said in a voice much politer than he was feeling at the moment, thrusting the car key he was holding into the man’s hand. “You are rude, obnoxious, and utterly unwilling to cooperate. I’ve been more than patient with you. Now please remove your vehicle, and yourself, from our premises.”

The man stared in shock, as he just realized that he had been more or less kicked out. For a second, he seemed torn on either storming out of the store, arguing some more with Terrence, or begging for a second chance.

“Good day, sir,” Terrence added, in as cheerful a voice as he could muster.

Those words suddenly seemed to rouse the man from his stupor, and he screamed. “FINE! I’ll take this car to RLS Auto, and THEY can fix it! Fuck you!”

With that the man stormed past Terrence into the garage area. Through a window, Terrence watched him stalk across the garage floor, screaming at two mechanics removing his car from the hydraulic lift to ‘get the fuck away from it.’ The mechanics obliged, and the man dove into the car, slammed the door shut, and peeled out garage into the evening.

“Customer of the day, right there.” came a gruff voice behind him. Terrence turned around and smiled at his Uncle Steve, who had been sitting quietly at the shop’s front desk, looking up a part on the computer, all the while listening with amusement to his nephew’s futile attempts to reason with the man.

“By a landlslide,” Terrence responded, shaking his head in disgust. “Ah well, its moron’s like that that remind me that there’s no way in hell I could possibly be the worst parent in the world.”

“Not even close,” Steve chuckled, but then he quickly sobered. “Why do you say that anyways?” he asked.

“Ah, Wendy’s freaking out again about whether or not us being involved in wrestling again’s having an adverse affect on Theresa.” Terrence replied, shaking his head in irritation. “Her grandmother’s got it into her head that she’s a bad mother because of it.”

To Terrence’s surprise, Steve actually chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“You gotta remember where she’s coming from, kid.” Steve replied. “I was hardly the best at child raising, but I still took you in and did the best I could with you after Rick and Serena died. I suppose, looking at how you turned out, I couldn’t have done too shitty a job.”

Terrence grinned. “I have a list of people for you who’d beg to differ.”

“Yeah, well fuck ‘em,” Steve replied bluntly. “But Wendy, she knows what it was like growing up with parents who gave more of a shit about their careers and their social standing than they did about their daughter. You can’t blame her for not wanting the same thing to happen to Theresa.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not going to happen to Theresa. Wendy and I aren’t anything like Gus and Gayle.”

“Of course you’re not. And you know why?” Steve replied, grinning through his full beard. “Because you, unlike Wendy’s folks, actually worry about your kid’s well-being. You know, whenever I talk to Theresa- she’s excited for when you guys go back out on the road. She thinks its a great adventure.”

“Well, we do try and find places on our trips that would be fun for her.” Terrence said. He smiled back at his uncle. “Thanks Steve. It’s nice to hear something like that”

“Ah, don’t get mushy on me,” Steve growled back, then he looked back at the clock. “Ah, fuck me!”

Terrence watched as his uncle rose from his chair, and walked over to the door leading to the garage. He flung it open, and screamed “EVERYONE GET OUT!”

Terrence chuckled at Steve’s customary method of calling an end to the day. As the mechanics in the shop began shutting down for the night, Steve turned around, and stretched. “You takin’ off?”

Terrence shook his head. “Can’t. I let Wendy have the car to drive hag-bea... her grandma around. She’s supposed to come pick me up.”

Steve chuckled, knowing full well that was hardly a situation Terrence would ever want to put himself in- relying on someone else for a ride. As one by one, the mechanics left for the evening, Terrence began turning off the lights to the shop, while Steve shut down the computer.

Only a couple minutes had passed when three women walked into the darkened shop. Wendy Briese beamed at her husband, paying no attention to the grease on Terrence’s mechanics suit as the two hugged and kissed. Theresa bounded over to her ‘Unca Steve’, and showed him a new stuffed animal she had gotten during the day. Constance, Wendy’s grandmother, merely stood there, that ever present scowl on her face as she surveyed the auto shop.

“For all you descibed it, dear, I thought it would be nicer,” she finally said.

To everyone’s surprise, Steve actually laughed at the insult. “You should have seen it BEFORE the renovation,” he said, stepping forward. “Steve Thompson, Thompson Auto.”

“A pleasure,” Constance replied, gingerly shaking Steve’s hand, although the stiffness in her tone and posture suggested far from it.

“Well, we should probably go,” Wendy said, “You want to come over for Dinner, Steve?”

Steve paused for just a second, then shook his head. “Love to, but I can’t. I got a Kiwanis meeting at seven-thirty. I’ll take a rain check though.”

“Alright then, night, Steve,” Terrence said, nodding to his uncle. Theresa hugged her uncle one more time, and Terrence slipped his arm around his wife’s waist, and the two left the shop, Theresa running after them. Constance took one more look around the store, gave another short, perfunctory nod to Steve, and followed her great-grandaughter out the door.
================================

Saturday October 23, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
11:07 AM Local Time

“So anyone ELSE wanna bitch about our lack of credible challengers?”

[Well, while Wendy might be in a December 26 hangover, for Terrence its Christmas morning present opening time.]

[Figuratively speaking of course]

[Of course, it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise that knocking off one of the best tag teams in PWX history hasn’t done too much for Terrence’s humility, as could be attested by the ear to ear smirk the Mechanical Mayhem is wearing as we fade in. Of course, we’re in the Nest’s living room, where Terrence is sitting on the couch, fairly relaxed]

“So anyone who thought that Wendy and I were only tag champions because we beat John Pariah and his Amazing Technicolor Partnercoat just got a HUGE reality check Tuesday night. The Belmonts, the first, and supposedly greatest tag team champions of PWX two-point-oh just learned a VERY valuable lesson.”

[Small chuckle]

“Just because Wendy and I don’t spout a bunch of bullshit on a camera together, that doesn’t mean we ain’t a team.”

[Grin]

“I think its a lesson that our next opponents, the Global Revolution, probably should take into account. When it comes to the WhirlyBirdz, the whole is definitely greater than the sum of its parts. And I think anyone can tell, the sum of our parts is pretty damn high.”

[Yeah, Terrence is enjoying this.]

“Ah Jacob Wright. It’s been a while since you and I have tangoed, hasn’t it?”

[Small shrug]

“May Thirty-First, Twenty-Ten. Full Throttle Pay-per-view. The last time Terrence Thompson was defeated in PWX competition. I haven’t forgotten it, and I doubt there are very many people who have. I most certainly haven’t forgotten who the man was who handed me that defeat.”

[Terrence nods, biting his lower lip, as if he’s chewing on the memories of that night]

“You got me, Jake. Plain and simple. You surprised me- hell, I think you surprised everyone, and you got the ‘dubya’.”

[The movement of Terrence’s head suddenly goes from vertical to horizontal.]

“But Jake, like I always do, I came back. I did a bit of soul-searching. I did some growing up, worked on my weak spots, and I came back stronger than ever. And now I stand the PWX Grand Prix Champion- and the Twister has torn through every single opponent the PWX has stuck in his way.”

[Pause]

“Except one.”

[Another smile, although this one is certainly strained]

“I’d love to say that this ain’t a revenge match. I’d love to say that finally getting that win over you means nothing to me, that I have nothing more to prove. And maybe that’s the rational, healthy approach I should take to this contest. But we all know that ain’t how I operate, Jake.”

[Another small shrug]

“I want to beat you Jake. I want that monkey off my back. That’s incentive enough, but there’s a bit more at stake than that, isn’t there? Last time, I lost, and I didn’t win a title. This time, Wendy and I lose... and we lose our chance to make history. Nearly four months of tag team dominance, four successful defenses, our chance to be the best PWX tag team of all time, brought to a screeching halt.”

[Terrence shakes his head, as if disgusted by the thought of him losing the belts]

“And we probably wouldn’t even be alowed to go after them again, because that would be a double standard.”

[Wink]

“Jake, bring your buddy Antonio down to the ring, and let’s have a party. Just remember what I told you before our first encounter, all those months ago. Beating me once? That’s an accomplishment. But beating me twice?”

[Terrence flashes a humorless grin]

“Now, THAT is how legends are made.”

[Fade]