Sunday October 31, 2010
City Streets- Terrence’s Charger
Indianapolis, Indiana
11:16 PM Local Time
It had been the perfect Halloween.
The party, which had been put on by the Youth Group of St. Josephine’s Church (which Wendy attended) as a fund-raiser, had been extremely well organized, with plenty of activities for both adults and Children to do. Theresa had had a blast, as she successfully managed to bob for an apple on her first try, and had even made it through the ‘Haunted House’ without crying (although, to be fair, the teenagers placed in the maze to jump at people had largely left her alone).
Terrence Thompson smiled as his daughter babbled excitedly about her experiences at the party. Humming a few bars of “The One-Eyed One-Horned Flying Purple People Eater” under his breath, he turned his Charger into the Pike Creek subdivision.
“So, Terr-Bear when do you want to go to the Olive Garden?” Terrence asked.
“Now!” Theresa beamed, as she waved her gift certificate in the air. Each category winner of the costume contest had received a ten-dollar gift certificate to the Italian restaurant, and Theresa had won for the “Under Five” category.
The adults all laughed, and Wendy, sitting in the back seat next to her daughter, ruffled Theresa’s hair (which had fallen out of its carefully done hairstyle soon after the costume contest had ended). “I don’t think so, hon. You’ve eaten more than enough tonight. Besides its WAY past your bedtime.”
“But I’m not tired!” Theresa protested, drawing another round of chuckles.
“I’m not surprised,” Wendy remarked. “After all the candy you ate. But you’re going to be out like a light the moment that sugar crash hits.”
Theresa opened her mouth to protest, but it turned immediately into a yawn, pretty much validating Wendy’s comment, and drawing another chuckle from the adults in the car.
“I think we ALL need to get some rest,” Daniel Pollaski, who had been granted shotgun due to his girth, remarked. “After all, we’ve got a long drive to Toronto tomorrow.”
The rest of the car’s occupant’s nodded, although most of them, especially Cassie, didn’t look too thrilled about the upcoming trip. With Wendy’s grandmother also coming along for the ride, that meant six people would be camping out in the RV. Wendy had made the unpopular decision to allow Constance use of the RV’s master bedroom, which had moved her and Terrence to the hide-a-bed in the main cabin. That was normally Cassie’s spot, so the unfortunate sitter had found herself relegated to the floor, along with Pollaski.
Terrence didn’t miss the grumbling sounds coming from his two employees, and he shrugged. “You know, maybe we oughta spring for a hotel for you two this time.” Terrence remarked. “After all, you guys are no good to us cranky and sore all the time.”
Both Cassie and Pollaski made half-hearted protests that Terrence ‘didn’t have to do that’, but it was obvious that they both were more than eager to get off the floor- and away from Wendy’s overcritical grandmother to boot. Terrence smiled as he turned the car onto Wabash Circle, heading for the Nest. It had been the perfect Halloween, but near as he could tell, it was only going to get better. As soon as they got home, they were going to kick Pollaski and Cassie out, and put Theresa to bed. And then, once everyone was gone, and they were alone, Terrence in his princely outfit, and Wendy in her mermaid costume-
“Steve’s Car is still here,” Wendy broke into Terrence’s thoughts, pointing at the ‘02 Mustang that was parked at the curb.
“Game probably just ran long,” Terrence responded, as he pulled into the Nest’s driveway. But he too had the sense that something was amiss. While the living room lights were still on the blinds, which he and Wendy always left open, had been drawn closed. Additionally, a few straggling trick or treaters stood at the front door, waiting for an answer. When none came, the disappointed revelers moved on, heading over to the McKenzie’s house next door.
“Is everything okay?” Wendy asked, quickly opening the car door as Terrence stopped the car. Both Pollaski and Cassie exchanged concerned looks as Wendy, fearing the worst, quickly headed towards the house.
Terrence shut the engine off, and looked over at Cassie. “Keep Theresa out here.”
Cassie nodded, although Theresa looked confused at the sudden alarm in her parents.
Wendy quickly got to the door, and flung it open, running inside the house as fast as her mermaid costume would allow her. “Nana! Steve! Is everything al-OH MY GOD!”
Terrence heard his wife scream, and ran quicker, barelling into the house, and running into the living room, where his wife stood, her mouth open in gaping horror. Terrence took one look, and immediately paled.
Constance O’Reilly lay on the couch, her button up shirt opened all the way down to her waist. She still had her arms around Terrence’s uncle, who was atop the septuagenarian. Both were staring at Wendy and Terrence wide-eyed, a mixture of shock and guilt on both their faces.
“Is everything okay?” Pollaski asked as he waddled into the Nest behind them, a most difficult feat considering the bulky costume he was in. He rounded the corner into the living room and stopped, immediately choking, although whether from a gag or laughter even he couldn’t tell. “What has been seen, cannot be unseen,” he managed to wheeze, eyes streaming.
Terrence could think of no more appropriate proverb. Steve quickly sat up onto the couch, and Constance wriggled to a sitting position as well, quickly buttoning her shirt as she did. For a second, silence reigned over the living room.
Then Cassie’s voice echoed in to the house from oustide. “Is everthing okay in there? It’s kind of cold out here!”
Wendy still stood comatose, her mouth open, but Terrence called out. “We’re okay! Just take Theresa upstairs, okay? I’ll be up in a minute to explain!”
“I have the Charlie Brown DVD in my car,” Pollaski offered in a low voice. “I’ll go get it.”
“Thanks,” Terrence muttered, as he heard Theresa and Cassie’s footsteps plodding up the stairs behind him. Pollaski quickly waddled off to his car, and for a second, Terrence envied him on getting to leave this awkward scene.
From the expression on his wife’s face, he had a feeling things were about to get very, very ugly. Which considering what he had just seen, was saying something.
Constance had finished buttoning up her shirt, and she looked at Wendy, having at least the decency to look embarassed. “So, how was the party?” she asked in a wavering voice.
“It was fun,” Terrence remarked casually, looking over at Steve. “Who won Saints-Steelers?”
Steve shrugged. “Wasn’t really paying attention,” he remarked.
That wasn’t really what Terrence needed to hear at that particular moment, and he looked over his shoulder, just in time to see his manager running up the stairs, having quickly exchanged his dress for a t-shirt while at his car. Terrence began picking nervously at the medal adorned to his costume.
“Well,” Constance, said, trying to sound matter of fact. “I think I’m going to turn in. Have to be up early for All Saints D-”
Wendy cut her off with a hiss. “You... fucking... hypocrite.”
Terrence cringed. It wasn’t often that Wendy lost control of herself, but when she did, there generally weren’t any survivors. For her part, Constance gasped and covered her mouth at the obscenity, especially that her grandaughter had directed it at her.
Wendy wasn’t done. “Ever since you arrived two weeks ago, you have done nothing but criticize! You’ve criticized my husband, my daughter, my career, my housekeeping... Everything! You’ve walked around with this completely holier than thou attitude despite the fact that you haven’t lifted a damned finger to help wtih ANYTHING! And then the first chance you’re left alone, with a man you’ve barely even met, you hop onto my couch and start undressing?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Constance protested. “We got to talking, and one thing led to another, and...”
“And, what?” Wendy demanded fiercely, her voice going up half-an octave. “You decided to turn MY living room couch into a boudoir? What if Theresa had walked in with us, and she saw you and Steve...” she shuddered. “Since you’re such the expert on child rearing, mind telling me how I’d explain THAT?”
Terrence cast a sidelong glance at his uncle, who, despite having so far managed to avoid the brunt of Wendy’s wrath, looked certainly cowed by her outburst. He turned back to Constance, who staring at her grandaughter in shock, blinking rapidly at the verbal onslaught.
“You don’t understand...”
“Understand what? That the rest of the family’s actually right about you? That you really are some crazy old bitter woman who tries to control everyone else’s life when you can’t even control your own? I almost gave up my CAREER, a job I LOVED, on your advice! What the hell was I thinking?”
Despite the dire mood in the room, Terrence felt small emotional victory at those words, although Wendy was still hardly done.
“I would have to be a raging IDIOT to take parenting advice from you! After all, you’re such a great parent, you haven’t even spoken with your last living daughter in the past three decades! You know how much that hurts Auntie Margaret that you act like she’s dead? Of course you don’t! And yet, I should listen to YOU on how to be a good parent?”
Constance gasped again at the mention of her daughter. “Gwendolyn, you have no right to-”
“And another thing-” Wendy snapped, her voice rising even higher. “I don’t give a flying damn what my birth certificate says. My name is Wendy, so stop... calling... me.... GWENDOLYN!”
The last word was uttered with such a piercing shriek, that all in the room flinched. Wendy paused, panting for breath, and she looked at the horrified faces on her relatives. Finally, she turned to Terrence. “I’m going to bed, before I say something that I’ll regret.”
She pushed by her husband, and stormed up the stairs, the only sound being Wendy’s footsteps stomping on the staircase, followed by the slamming of an upstairs door. Terrence, thoroughly uncomfortable being left alone in the room, rubbed the back of his neck.
Fortunately for him, Constance wasn’t long for staying either. Her eyes welling up with tears, she too left the room, quickly hobbling up the stairs, leaving Terrence alone with his uncle.
“Well,” Terrence finally said into the ringing silence. “I suppose I better go tuck Theresa in...”
His uncle nodded, scratching his grayed beard. “You’re not angry about all this too, are you?”
“You’re damn right I’m angry,” Terrence said, grimacing. “I’ve been dressed up in this ridiculous outfit all night, while my smoking hot redhead of a wife looked like a mermaid for the past four hours, and now she’s too goddamned pissed for me to get anything out of it?”
Steve chuckled sympathetically, and patted Terrence’s shoulder with his arm. “Sorry, kid.”
“And honest to God, Steve, THAT’S the best you can do?”
Steve arched an eyebrow. “She’s not such a bad person, once you get to know her. She’s a bit peculiar and opinionated, but after what I just saw, I think it runs in the family. But she’s also very personable, and she has a decent sense of humor. And she’s lonely. And kid, I’ll tell ya, she ain’t the only one in that regard.”
With that food for thought, Steve patted his nephew a couple more times on the shoulder, and quietly left the house, leaving Terrence standing alone in the living room with his thoughts.
===============================
Monday November 1, 2010
The RV- Main Cockpit
Port Huron, Michigan
3:10 PM Local Time
[Okay, so maybe it wasn’t quite the ending to Halloween that Terrence had hoped for, but hey, shit happens. Although its probably doubtful either Bird is ever going to look at their living room couch the same way again.]
[Anyways, morning brought a much sunnier landscape in the Thompson family household. Wendy awoke in a much sunnier mood, and although she was still rather cold to her grandmother, at least she wasn’t the screeching harpy she had become the night before. Even better news came for the Birdz while they were loading up the RV for departure, when Constance, thinking maybe getting away from Wendy for a couple days might ease the tension between them, announced that she was going to stay at Uncle Steve’s place while the Birdz were in Toronto. While the cringe-factor of this unexpected development would best be expressed as an exponential number, it definitely is nice to have the sleeping arrangements in the RV returned to normal.]
[And unbeknown to anyone else, Terrence snuck the mermaid costume aboard the RV. Just in case]
[Anyways, the scene opens in the cockpit of the WhirlyBirdz RV, which has been stopped just shy of the Canadian border en route to Toronto. The Birdz have taken a quick pause for the cause here, to stretch their legs, grab a bite, and to allow Terrence to shoot his final promo before Never Say Die.]
[Terrence Thompson is, of course, sitting in the driver’s seat of the RV, while the camera is mounted upon the dashboard. As near as could be figured, Terrence is the only one in the RV. At least, fortunately Terrence is wearing the usual attire, a Colts t-shirt and a pair of jeans.]
[Terrence opens his mouth to speak, but he pauses for just a second. Finally, he breaks out into laughter, and shakes his head.]
“Sorry, I was just thinking about this amazingly hillarious comedy routine I saw the other day...”
[Smirk]
“Although you probably knew it better as John Ojeda’s promo.”
[The smirk widens to become a grin]
“John Ojeda’s the kind of person who loves to pretend that he knows what he’s talking about, when in reality, he doesn’t have a goddamned clue. Does John actually think that droning on and on about my PWX bio page, and dropping the names of some wrestlers in another company, make him worth a shit of credibility?”
[Another short laugh]
“Almost as laughable as John’s cute little notion that he can lecture me on heart and unbreakable fighting spirit.”
[Small shrug]
“Even assuming the idiotic notion that I have none, let’s stop and remind ourselves who exactly I’m married to. Wendy Briese. Is there anyone in pro wrestling that better defines heart and unbreakable spirit than her? John should know the answer to that- he spent the better part of three months trying to break her. Needless to say, he failed.”
[Terrence reaches down at his side, and reclines the seat back just a bit, making himself a bit more comfortable]
“So belive me, I know what true heart is. I see it in my wife every day. And I think just maybe, if you go and look back and look at some of my contests through the years, that I might just have a little bit of a drive myself. No pun intended.”
[Terrence grins for just a second. After all, he is a fomer auto racer, so he has plenty of drive.]
“I didn’t win the Grand Prix Championship because I sit in a chair, smirk and crack a couple jokes. I spent the last four months as one half of the tag team champions because I’ll occasionally goof off. I earned these accolades because I go down to that ring every week, and I get the job done. See, unlike Ojeda, I know when there’s a time for play, and I know when there’s a time for business.”
[Terrence cricks his neck, and stares directly at the camera]
“And rest assured, when the bell rings for the main event on Tuesday night, with John Ojeda standing across that ring from me, and four steel walls surrounding me on all sides, you can guarantee that I’m going to be all business.”
[Blink]
“But of course, John Ojeda’s got me all figured out. After all, I’m an extremely one-dimensional wrestler, way too predictable, and basic.”
[Again, Terrence bursts out into laughter]
“Right.”
[Another smirk]
“I’ll be the first to admit that in terms of pure technical ability, I’m not the greatest guy. I don’t have a dazzling array of supercomplicated moves. I’m not like my wife, who somehow seems to learn a new submission hold every other week. But last I checked this is professional wrestling, not gymnastics. And the object of professional wrestling is to get the other guy’s shoulders on the mat for a three count, or to inflict such unbearable pain, that they give up.”
[Terrence leans forward just a bit in his seat]
“I don’t know Ojeda’s the only one who hasn’t been paying attention around here, but I think I’m pretty damn good at doing that. At least when idiots don’t run in and turn my matches into no contests out of some desperate cry for attention.”
[Terrence arches his eyebrows. Who could he possibly be talking about?]
“And before John Ojeda thinks that I’m the most predictable guy in the world, he should maybe ask himself one simple question. If I’m not the greatest technical wrestler on the planet, if I’m so damned predictable, why is it that I’m the champion of this company? Why is it that I haven’t lost a match in five months? Why is it that the one time Ojeda and I faced, he was the one who ended the match on his back, staring at the lights?”
[Terrence gasps in mock amazement]
“Could it possibly be that, just by chance, I might actually know what I’m doing around here? Could it maybe be that all the hours I spend in the gym, and the time I spend watching videotape studying my opponents, actually pays off?”
[Terrence pauses, as if he’s suddenly just realized something]
“Ah, but of course, I’ve forgotten, John Ojeda works harder at this than anyone else, right?”
[Terrence bursts out into laugher. Not the mocking stuff he opened the promo with, but real laughter. He’s genuinely amused. However, Terrence does quickly get ahold of himself, and calms down]
“This is the man who spent half a month resorting to shooting a taser at his opponents to get the win. This is the man who became the first Evolution Champion by simply stealing the belt. This is the man who didn’t do a damn thing over the course of the summer without having four people around to back him up. This is a man who didn’t even bother to properly research whether or not he was facing Jeremiah or Christopher Belmont before he opened his mouth.”
[Another chuckle from Terrence]
“I think its safe to say that I actually work harder at cleaning my bathroom than John Ojeda does at professional wrestling.”
[If Wendy were here, she would NOT be amused by that. At all]
“We’re just a little over twenty-four hours away from the biggest PWX show of the year. Never Say Die Four, Terrence Thompson and John Ojeda in a steel cage match. And Ojeda can draw whatever picture of me that he wants, but the fact of the matter is, he’s drawing that picture with a really cheap, crappy piece of chalk. And when that bell rings, and I’m finally turned loose upon him, a torrent is going to fall from the sky, and it’s going to wash away every last bit of that picture. And, then John Ojeda is going to realize what everyone else, from the fans in the cheap seats, to those at ringside, to the other wrestlers in the locker room, have already managed to figure out.”
[A short dramatic pause, and one final smirk]
“That there’s a hell of a lot more to Terrence Thompson than meets the eye.”
[And fade]
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