Friday November 5, 2010
The Nest- Foyer
Indianapolis, Indiana
4:51 PM Local Time
“Hey-yo!” Daniel Pollaski announced as he shut the Nest’s front door, and stomped his feet on the entrance rug. “Anyone home?”
“I’m in the kitchen!” he heard a feminine voice call out.
Even though Pollaski knew the Nest like the back of his hand, if there was ever a room in a house the chubby Pollaski could find, it was certainly the kitchen. He walked in to see Wendy alone, working on cutting up some Granny Smith apples to dip in the freshly melted caramel she had just made. “Oh, jackpot!”
“My favorite autumn treat,” Wendy said, smiling, then swatting Pollaski’s hand away as he made a grab at a slice. “Wait until they’re done, and we can all have some. I’ve been wondering where Theresa gets her impulsiveness from.”
“Oh, sure, blame the fat guy. What the hell, we’re easy targets,” Pollaski muttered half-jokingly, rolling his eyes as he did. He paused. “Why’s your couch sitting out on the curb?” he suddenly asked, pointing over his shoulder in the general direction of the front of the house.
“Goodwill’s picking it up tomorrow, and we’re getting a new one.” Wendy said quietly. “We just can’t bring ourselves to sit in that one after...” she trailed off, and suddenly redoubled her focus on slicing her apples.
“After we walked in on Terrence’s uncle and your grandmother doing the horizontal mambo on it?” Pollaski finished for her.
Wendy paused again in her apple cutting, glaring at her manager, and biting her lip as she did so. Pollaski had a sudden realization that after all she had gone through over the past week, maybe pissing her off while she was holding a knife wasn’t such a good idea.
Instead, Wendy simply sighed, and turned her attention back to the apples. “Why are you here, Pollaski?” she demanded quietly.
“Oh, right,” Pollaski said, taking an envelope out of his pocket and presenting it to Wendy. “Paycheck, and the revised card for next week. Lopez had personal business to attend, so your match got changed.”
Wendy set aside her check on the counter, not even bothering to open it- she knew well enough that with her loss at Never Say Die, the bonus would be significantly lower than she had been accustomed to. Still, it wasn’t like she and her family were anywhere close to starving. Instead, she opened the sheet of paper within, scanning the contents.”
“Who’s Tweeder?” Wendy asked.
“New guy,” Pollaski explained. “Came over from One World Coalition after they went belly-up.” He snickered. “Let’s hope he’s better than the LAST OWC refugees who came over.”
“Who’s that?” Wendy asked, trying to recollect.
“The Brother’s of the Will.” Pollaski replied simply.
Wendy cringed at the name. “Anyone would have to be better than them,” she said, shaking her head.
Her manager chuckled at the barb, and reached into his other pocket, pulling out a small USB drive. “Here, I got everything I could find on him I could. Most of it’s from Carnage Wrestling, some idiot nuked the old OWC site.”
“Carnage Wrestling?” Wendy scoffed. “Sounds like a pleasant place.” She looked down at the flashdrive, and set it next to her paycheck. “Thanks, Dan. Though... Tweeder? It sounds like...”
“Yeah, I know.” Pollaski snickered. “But I’ll warn ya. He sure as hell doesn’t keep his promos under a hundred forty characters. Or words. Or minutes, come to think of it.”
“Oh?” Wendy asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Let’s just say that Tweeder’s the kind of guy who likes to listen to himself talk, and leave it at that,” Pollaski said, grinning.
Wendy smiled, and opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off as the doorbell rang. Wendy and Pollaski exchanged glances, and Wendy headed to answer the door, Pollaski following behind.
Wendy froze the moment she opened the door, and saw her grandmother standing on the porch. Normally stern, and definitely overbearing, Constance O’Reilly looked as nervous as Wendy had ever seen her before. After glancing over her shoulder, as if looking for an escape route, she turned her attention back to her grandaughter. “May I come in?”
“Of.. of course,” Wendy stammered, stepping aside to let her in. Constance slowly hobbled past her, leaning on her cane as she did. Both women paused, and looked pointedly at Pollaski, who immediately got the hint.
“Terrence?”
“Garage,” Wendy replied, and Pollaski quickly walked off to look for his other client and best friend.
After Pollaski left, Wendy turned to her grandmother. “Maybe we should sit down,” she said.
“Of course, but why is your couch outsi...” Constance began, her Irish brogue cutting off as her eyes went wide in realization. “Oh...” she said, her gaze downcast.
“Dining room table?” Wendy offered, and Constance hastily agreed.
“I heard both you and Terrence lost at Never Say Die,” Constance said quietly. “I’m... sorry to hear that.”
Wendy nodded somberly. “It happens,” she said quietly.
“It wasn’t because you were so upset with me, is it?” Constance asked pointedly, looking at Wendy pointedly, but with a definite mixture of guilt.
Wendy sighed, and shook her head. “I had a lot on my mind that night. But I don’t know, Nana. I should have won that... that’s one that’s going to haunt me.” Wendy swallowed hard, and looked to the side. “How was your week with Steve?” Wendy asked, changing the subject.
“It was very pleasant,” Constance replied, although the smile on her face suggested that she was making a huge understatement. “He tries so hard to hide it, but he’s a gentleman at heart, and he knows how to treat a lady with respect.”
Wendy nodded absently. “He’s a good person. He’s been wonderful to Terrence, and this family.”
Constance nodded, but didn’t reply, the forced conversation between the two women dying out completely. Silence reigned over the dining room for several long moments. Finally, Wendy couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m sorry, Nana. I’m sorry I blew up at you on Halloween. I shouldn’t have-”
“No,” Constance interrupted. “It’s me who should be sorry. I had no right to come in and criticize you like I did. Steve told me about how much you valued your career, and how hard you’ve worked at it. And your daughter is a wonderful, wonderful little girl. You’re a good mother, Gwend... Wendy.”
Wendy smiled, tears forming in her eyes at her grandmother’s apology. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I’m going back to Ireland after your father’s parole hearing next week,” Constance said. “Like you, I hope that fiend stays behind bars where he belongs, but if for some reason, he is released, I know it’s going to spoil the end of my trip. I just want you to know right now that I have had a wonderful time here. Thank you so much for keeping me these past few weeks.”
Wendy blinked, taken aback by her grandmother’s rare display of kindness and gratitude. “Thank you, Nana.” she finally said. “It’s been great having you. I hope I can return the favor and come visit Ireland soon.”
Constance smiled. “I hope so too.”
Wendy suddenly rose from her chair, and helped her grandmother to her feet. “Come on, I just made some caramel apple dip.” She grinned mischieviously. “If we’re quick, we can eat it all before Pollaski and Terrence find out.”
Constance nodded in return, the same spark of mischief returning to her eye as well. Leaning on her granddaughter for support, the two women snuck into the kitchen.
==============================
Saturday November 6, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
7:13 PM Local Time
“What a fool I am.”
[With those melancholy words, we fade into a recently remodeled living room inside the Nest. Apparently the ‘relaxed webcam experiment’ didn’t exactly work out to well, so once again, we see Wendy Briese perched on the (brand spankin’ new!) couch. However, she’s not sitting as straight and rigid as she normally does. Instead, there’s a definite slouch about her, her emerald eyes downcast to the floor.]
“Last week, in a bout of arrogance, I had the audacity to give a lecture to my opponent on the choices she had made in her career, from her attitude, all the way down to the people that she ran with. She then proceeded to pin me for the first time in over six months.”
[Wendy laughs bitterly, and shakes her head]
“What a stupid, stupid fool I am.”
[Wendy sighs sadly, and turns her head upwards just a bit, so at least she’s looking somewhat towards the camera now.]
“It’s been a very bitter pill for me to swallow. For the past week, the end of that match has replayed itself countless times in my head. And each time, I discover something else that could have been different. Something else that I could have done better. Something that could have changed the result of that contest into my favor.”
“It’s especially tough to now see that Ashley Graves has been granted a shot to face Johnny Moxie for the Evolution Championship. And now I’m left wondering, could that have been me? Had I beaten Ashley Graves at Never Say Die, would I have finally gotten my first singles title shot in PWX?”
[Another disgusted shake of the head from Wendy. It’s been well known Wendy’s frustration that she kept getting passed over for singles title shots, despite her winning nearly every single week. To find out that she might have actually had a chance at one, and blew it, is almost too much for her to bear]
“But even now, several days removed from Never Say Die. Knowing all the mistakes I made, and the humility that came with suffering a loss like that, I can’t help but offer one final bit of my advice to Ashley.”
[For a second, Wendy pauses. Then she slowly raises her head. No longer does she looks downcast, the defeated victim. The fire has returned into her emerald eyes, and her lips are pursed together.]
“We always will reap what we sow.”
[Wendy’s lips curl into a snarl, and again, she shakes her head in disgust]
“Because, Ashley, the more and more I think about it, the more and more I can’t believe that I actually LOST to someone like you. You, who’s spent most of your time since you arrived in July being the official PWX whipping girl. I don’t know if you’ve really somehow managed to turn a corner, Ashley, or if you just got lucky, but I do know that my loss to you last week is a stain on my reputation that’s going to take a LONG time to wash out.”
[For a second, Wendy’s expression softens, and she looks almost guilty that she would say such things in front of a camera. But then, the memories of Never Say Die come back to her, and her expression hardens even more]
“I suppose that this all makes me sound a little like a sore loser. Well you know what? I am. I DID lose, after all. And I’m most certainly sore. Particularly right here, where you felt the need to kick me after the match was over.”
[As she talks, she gestures to her side, where Ashley Graves had delivered a vicious kick to her ribs after winning the victory]
“See, Ashley, I was prepared to accept my defeat graciously, but when you felt the need to carry on after the bell, and attack me when the match was over, you sowed a very ugly seed in that ground. And that seed has already begun to sprout, because I’ve already gone to JPO and requested a rematch against you at the earliest possible convenience. And I guarantee you Ashley, once the harvest is over, you will think twice about taking liberties with me, or anyone else, ever again.”
[There’s a small, sinister smile on Wendy’s face now, as she thinks about what would just happen once she gets the opportunity to face Ashley Graves ever again. Finally, she shrugs]
“But enough about the past, and the inevitable future. On to this week, where I have either the reward or punishment of playing welcome wagon to a new wrestler. Considering the type of wrestler I’m going to face- I’m assuming this is a punishment.”
“So Tweeder, I see you’re another one of these ‘ultraviolent’ idiots..”
[Wendy rolls her eyes, to the ceiling at the notion of another ‘ultraviolent’ wrestler in PWX.]
“I’m sure you think that you’ll fit right at home in PWX. After all, our new champion is the so called ‘King of the Death Match’. More than a few people have shed blood in that ring, myself included. And we’re just a month removed from one of the sickest, most disgusting matches the wrestling world’s ever had in the Civil War.”
[Which is ironic, because Wendy was actually a participant in that match. She even cracked someone over the head with a sledgehammer. Then again, when you’re pinned down, kissed against your will, then kicked through a plate of glass, it can make someone go a little bit nuts.]
“But therein lies the rub. Pro-Wrestling X has booked more than its fair share of barbaric matches, believe you me. But the heart of this company isn’t found in the Seventh Circle, or Razor Wire Warfare, or any other insane gimmick match. No, what makes PWX tick is the fact that you can tune into any show, and watch any match, and you know you are watching talented individuals giving everything they have in the ring.”
“I think you have the capacity to succeed here, Tweeder. You have a decent technical side to you- I’ve seen that from what little I’ve been able to watch of you. But you’d much rather tote a shopping cart full of weapons down to the ring, and rely on them, than your own natural ability. But remember, PWX is not an anything-goes company. We have rules, we have policies, and if you violate these policies you will be disqualified. That’s not how I want to win a match, and I’m sure that’s not how you want to lose a match, so just do us both a favor, and leave your little toys in the back?”
[Wendy scoffs disdainfully, and shakes her head in disgust]
“Of course I’d be an idiot to assume you’ll heed my advice. You’re yet another fool who takes a look at a one hundred thirty pound girl who won’t cheat or use weapons, and you assume that you have an easy win on your hands. Do you have any idea how many people before you have made that exact same error? I’ve lost count.”
“See, I don’t cheat or use weapons because I don’t need to. My four limbs, my brain, and especially my heart are more than enough to obtain a victory, and they have countless times over, even against so-called ‘ultraviolent types’ such as you. See, contrary to what you might think, I do desire to be the best. And to be the best, you need to get your victories without assistance. Without having to rely on interference, or chairs, or illegal holds. Anyone can get a win by cheating, Tweeder. It’s those who can get that victory by playing by the rules who are the true greats of this sport.”
[Another disdainful laugh from Wendy, and she sits up just a bit straighter, her eyes boring into the camera]
“But go ahead, continue to make incorrect assumptions about me. I’m not half-Irish. Both of my parents are full-blooded Irish through and through, who emigrated to America in the late 1970s. I was born in New York City, and I’m proud of both my heritage, and the country I have been a citizen of my entire life. And as far as getting along with Scots... the woman in PWX that I consider my biggest rival, Valerie Belmont, is from Edinburgh.”
“You know nothing about me, Tweeder, which is odd, because the details of who I am and what I can do aren’t hard to find. I’ve been on pretty much every single Adrenaline from Episode Twenty-Eight onwards. I’m not looking to pull a cheap shot on you, and I’m most certainly not about to be your friend.”
[Wendy pauses, and breaks into an evil smile]
“And I’m most DEFINITELY nothing like Carnage Wrestling’s Kyra Johnson. Given that you gave me the same “I’m not that kind of guy” speech, verbatim, that you did her, I thought maybe you were lumping us in the same group.”
[Its true! http://carnagewrestling.com/central/index.php?topic=102.msg340#msg340 . Turquoise section, last half of the second paragraph. Look familiar?]
“Tweeder, the more and more I think about this match, the more and more I realize how much will be on the line. I knew from the get-go that I needed a win here to bounce back from my humiliation at Never Say Die. I knew from the beginning that I was protecting my place in the PWX pecking order from a newcomer. But now I realize, that not only am I defending my own position here, I’m defending PWX itself.”
[Wendy takes a deep breath, knowing that what she’s about to get into is very personal for her]
“Like I said earlier, PWX is not an ‘ultraviolent’ fed, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let it become one. I’ve seen too many lives ruined because of sadistic scumbags like you who bastardize this sport. I’ve seen boys and girls paralyzed in backyard matches trying to emulate the atrocities people like you committ on each other.. I saw a young man’s career ended when he was chained to a turnbuckle and nearly disembowled with a weed-whacker. I watched as a friend of mine threw himself into barbaric match after barbaric match, until his body had been so destroyed that he felt the only route he could take was to put a gun in his mouth, and pull the trigger.”
[Wendy’s voice wavers the last couple of words, and looks away from the camera, rapidly blinking her eyes. She takes a couple of deep breaths, and composes herself, turning back to the camera]
“On Tuesday Night, Tweeder, I’m going to prove that it’s not me who’s pathetic, its you. If you bring a chair, I will kick it back in your face. If you swing a bat at me, I will dodge it, kick your knees out from under you, and put you in the Banshee. I’m not going to cripple you, I’m not going to ruin your career. I’m just going to go down to the ring,and I’m going to give everything I have to win, just like I do every other week.”
[A cold smile crosses Wendy’s lips, as she leans back on the couch.]
“And I can guarantee, Tweeder, that you don’t have a clue what you’re in for.”
[And fade]
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