EPISODE 40: MOMMY-DAUGHTER TALK
Wednesday September 1, 2010
The RV- Main Cabin
Crown Point, Indiana
3:12 PM Local Time
“Hey, Terr-Bear,” Wendy murmured as her daughter came bounding out of the RV’s bedroom into the main cabin, yawning as she did so. “How was your nap?”
“Fine, mommy,” the four-year old replied as she walked over to the RV’s table, where Wendy was sitting. “Whatcha doin’?’
Wendy looked up from her writing, and smiled sadly at her daughter. “I’m writing a card to a friend of mine who was hurt yesterday. It’s a ‘Get Well Soon’ card.”
“Who?” the ever-inquisitive little girl asked.
“Danny Szatkowski,”
“Danny BUTTHOLE Satski!” Theresa corrected with a giggle.
“THERESA!” Wendy snapped, appalled at her daughter’s words, making a mental note to discover whoever let her daughter watch a John Ojeda promo- and then kill them. “Don’t say that word!”
“But...”
“It’s not a nice thing to say, and the man who came up that name isn’t a nice person,” Wendy scolded. “And Danny’s had enough not nice things happen to him over the past week.”
“Sorry,” the little girl replied, looking crestfallen at upsetting her mother. “Was he the one who got hurt at Adr... Ad...”
“Adrenaline? Yes,” Wendy sighed. With only a couple days between Adrenaline and No Limits, the Birdz had elected to stay near Crown Point rather than making the long drive back to the Nest, only to leave again immediately. With Theresa down for her nap, Terrence, Cassie, and Pollaski had headed out to buy some food and supplies, leaving Wendy to spend some time alone.
Unfortunately, Wendy, already on edge over her coming tag match, had been deeply shaken by the injuries to Wild and Szatkowski the previous night. Whether she liked them or not, she had seen far too many people get hurt over the past month. She looked from the card she was writing, to her daughter, and she grimaced.
“Let’s sit on the couch for a second,” Wendy said, rising to her feet. Theresa quicly bounded to the couch, hopping up on it, while Wendy slowly walked, sitting down next to her daughter. Turning to look at her, Wendy sighed. She should have had this conversation last week.
“Daddy said you were pretty upset last week when I got attacked,” Wendy said quietly, looking hard at her daughter to gauge her reaction.
Theresa’s bouncy mood melted away, and she nodded, biting her lower lip. “I was scared,” she whispered.
Wendy smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I frightened you, Terr. I didn’t think they were going to try anything at that moment. There’s some people.. they’re not happy that mommy’s wrestling.”
Theresa nodded. “Daddy says they’re just jealous that you whip their butts!” she stated, matter of factly, with even a bit of pride.
Wendy cracked a strained smile, making another mental note to conk her husband in the head for inadvertently expanding their daughter’s vocabulary. “I don’t know if they’re really jealous, sweetie. But Mommy’s boss... he’s not a very good person, and mommy tries to stop him from doing bad things.”
“Like Batman!” Theresa exclaimed.
Considering the lame joke JPO had tried in his speech (which hadn’t amused Wendy at all), Wendy nearly facepalmed, but she managed to just smile. “Kind of, I guess. Theresa. Are you always scared when I wrestle?”
The little girl thought for a second, then vigorously shook her head, her long brown hair flying around from the force. “No. Because you always win!”
Wendy smiled. “I don’t ALWAYS win,” she informed her daughter. “And I won’t always win. And sometimes, I might even get hit really hard by another person. But I’ll always love you, no matter what happens out there.”
Theresa seemed to mull it over for a while. “But you won’t get hurt like Danny Satski?”
Wendy paused, almost on the verge of lying. Finally, she shook her head. “I can’t promise you that, Theresa. I try to be as careful as I can, but accidents happen. It’s a dangerous sport, and there are some people out there who do it just because they like to hurt people.”
The little girl paused, and again, it seemed as if she was trying to think things over.
“Theresa, do want me to stop wrestling?”
Theresa immediately shook her head vigorously. “No!” she said, as firece as her four year old voice could manage. “It makes you happy!”
Wendy smiled. “It does, sometimes,” she said. “But there is nothing in this world that makes me happier than being with you. And that’s a promise I CAN make.”
Theresa grinned, and hopped into her mother arms, and Wendy embraced the little girl tightly. “Why don’t you go get a game or a puzzle?” she whispered into her daughter’s ear. “I can finish the card later. I have writer’s block anyways.”
“You don’t write with a block, you write with a PEN!” Theresa giggled as Wendy set her down.
“Just an expression, hon.” Wendy said, laughing as her daughter bounded over to one of the cabinets, quickly pulling out Chutes and Ladders. Wendy smiled as she rose from the couch, and walked over to the table, all thoughts in her mind turned towards playing a game with her daughter.
And that made her happier than any match or title ever would.
===================================================
Wednesday September 1, 2010
The RV- Main Cabin
Crown Point, Indiana
8:41 PM Local Time
[Well, if it was ever possible for there to be a one-sided ass whupping in Chutes and Ladders, Wendy was just on the receiving end.]
[Seriously... she hit the same freaking slide 4 consecutive times, while Theresa zoomed up the ladders, and claimed victory while poor Wendy was still on square number 12. More like squash n’ ladders...]
[Anyways, it’s now evening in the Birdz’ RV, only this time Wendy’s alone, the rest of the gang all headed out on a nice evening walk, leaving Wendy a bit of alone time to shoot her promo for No Limits. Wendy sits on the hide-a-bed, the camera positioned on the other end of the RV. She’s elected a pale orange camisole top, to go with a black pair of jeans for this promo. As usual, Wendy sits fairly rigidly, although there is a small smile on her face as we fade in.]
“It’s one of the oldest stories in the book, written time and time again in the annals of human history. An usurper desires a throne, and through a coup d’etat, he overthrows the current monarch, and establishes his own illegitimate reign, sending the rightful ruler to either the dungeons or exile. His power thus established, he commences a despotic reign of terror over his subjects, never once even imagining that his methods might prompt a backlash against his authority.”
[This may also be the plot of every 1980s fantasy movie ever made. And a few TV shows to boot.]
“But you can only push a human being so far until he pushes back, and once that line is crossed, discontent sweeps throughout the land. The people turn against their new leader, the rightful heir is returned from exile, and the despot soon finds himself overthrown.”
[Prefereably stabbed by the hero, then kicked off the top of the castle. Not that she’s advocating this happening to Hollywood.]
“The end.”
[Okay, maybe a REALLY small part of her is]
“And that is why Jason Parker Oleson, the rightful owner of Pro-Wrestling X, is back among us. When the Cartel attacked the four of us in the ring after Adrenaline last week, they finally crossed the line. We’re tired of the abuse that has been heaped upon us, and we won’t stop until the usurper Hollywood is removed from his position atop the PWX!”
[For a second, Wendy looks fierce, but then she sighs, and closes her eyes, her expression falling somber.]
“But alas, what we gained in the return of JPO, we lost tenfold in Danny Szatkowski’s abdominal injury. Danny was a true champion, one of the best wrestlers in this company, and due to the cowardly attacks by Valerie Belmont, it is currently unknown whether or not he will ever be able to wrestle again.”
[Wendy opens her eyes, and there’s definitely a glint of anger in her eyes.]
“But once again, Danny wasn’t injured in the heat of a wrestling match. He was attacked from behind by a woman who was supposed to be his tag team partner for the evening, a woman who ended up costing him his title, and perhaps his career. A woman who, not two weeks ago, shook his hand after they had put on one of the greatest Hybrid title matches in company history.”
[Wendy shakes her head in disgust.]
“But like the rest of the Cartel, honor apparently means little to Valerie Belmont. Not the honor of the title she now holds, nor the honor of her wedding vows. It broke my heart to watch her betray Danny like that, because before I even arrived in PWX, I had admired Valerie for her courage, her strength of will, and her confidence. But, Tuesday night, she threw it all away for the sake of a golden trinket.”
[Wendy stares at the camer, biting her lower lip, her expression stony]
“Shame on you, Valerie.”
[Them’s fightin’ words right there!]
“But Valerie Belmont is hardly the most of my concerns right now, although ironically, I too now find myself with a different partner than I’m accustomed to, although thankfully only in the wrestling ring.”
[A small smile at her absolutely godawful attempt at a joke.]
“As is the case all too much lately, my opponents are two members of the Cartel. Since facing me in singles has failed, as has facing the Birdz in tag team action, they seem to have resorted to a new tactic- teaming me with someone I’ve never teamed with before, in an attempt to create a lack of chemistry that would tip the balance in their favor.”
[Shrug]
“I’ll confess, this is a lightly tread road for me. Outside of Terrence, I have had few tag partners, so I’m not entirely sure how well I’ll acclimate to another partner’s style. I consider myself fortunate that my partner is Josh Graves, who has had success with several different partners. Still though, the two of us are amongst the most talented wrestlers in the PWX, and I think we’ll be more than enough of a challenge for any team put against us. And that includes the duo of Brian Hollywood and Bryan Willett.”
[Wendy pauses for just a second, and tilts her head to one side, stretching her neck.]
“You’re not very happy with me, are you Mr Hollywood? After all, I made the phone call to JPO to convince him to come back, and to snap the hold you had over him these past few months. I thwarted your attack on Adrianna Szatkowski. Terrence and I have kept your hands off the PWX Tag Titles, and every time your henchmen have beaten me down in a cowardly attack, I’ve risen back to my feet, more defiant than ever.”
[Wendy suddenly breaks into a smile that could only be called ‘malicious’]
“And, I pinned you cleanly in the middle of the ring to end your first official week as PWX President.”
[Ah, memories]
“The problem is, you just don’t seem to get it. You haven’t figured out that there is NOTHING you can do to subjugate me. Every time you knock me down, I’m going to get up, stronger than ever. You claim I’m an emotional person, and you’re right. But, Brian, l challenge you to find one time my emotions caused me to freeze up in the middle of a match.”
[You’ll fail]
“If anything, the exact opposite happens. You should have realized that back at Adrenaline 39. You want to know how I won that match? Because I cannot, and WILL not, allow myself to be beaten by the likes of you. And as long as my heart is beating within my bosom, you will never defeat me.”
[Another pause, although the fire in Wendy’s eyes never leave.]
“And then there’s Bryan Willett. I’ve been watching you, Willett, ever since you threw off your mask and promised Darin Zion’s death. I’ve watched you, in two or three short matches, become one of the most feared men in this company. But there’s no nice way of saying this-”
[Pause]
“You are the embodiment of everything I hate about professional wrestling.”
[Yeah, moreso than even Mandrake. Y’know, the dude who chained her to a wall five years ago?]
“You’re a talented and successful wrestler, I won’t dispute that. You’ve made the most out of your mixed martial arts background, and your technical ability is superb.”
[/caveat]
“But I will never forget the gleeful expression on your face as you took a weed-whacker to a young man’s stomach. How you laughed as the spinning blades tore through his flesh.”
[This would be about as angry as anyone’s ever seen Wendy. She’s glaring at the camera, and her voice is even trembling with rage.]
“Obviously, I was no fan or friend of Sami Jacobs, and I always feared that he would meet a bad end. But what you did... it wasn’t wrestling. It wasn’t even during a match, and he was no longer your opponent. It was attempted murder, done for the sake of your own twisted amusement on a helpless man.”
[Wendy shakes her head in anger, biting her lower lip.]
“You call yourself the psycho- but that implies insanity. A truly insane person knows not what they do.”
[Scoff]
“Bryan, that night, you knew damn well what you were doing. There’s only one true adjective that could accurately be used to describe you.”
[Pause]
“Evil”
[BURN! Like.. literally. In hell]
“But I’m sure that somewhere, in your twisted little mind, you find this all flattering. But here’s the rub, Willett. This isn’t going to be an ultraviolent submission match. This isn’t no holds barred. This match is a tag elimination match contested under PURE rules, some of the strictest wrestling rules out there. Not only are there just three rope breaks per competitor, but no closed fist punches to the face, and a twenty count for wrestlers on the floor.”
[Wendy pauses, and looks at the camera, almost assuming a sarcastic position.]
“Can you remember all that, or should I wait while you write it down?”
[It should be noted that its a bit interesting that Brian Hollywood would put himself in a PURE rules match against one of the most by the book people in the business...]
“But do you really know who exactly you’re facing? I’m glad you think I’m overshadowed by my HUSBAND, Willett.”
[Yeah, not her brother. That’d be gross. Wendy shrugs.]
“Perhaps, I am. After all, Terry did defeat me the last time he and I faced. But the PWX is full of people who foolishly underestimated me as second-rate, and paid for it with a loss, your own tag partner included. I may not be the wrestler who can run into a pack of people and obliterate everything in sight, but in that ring, where it counts, I get the job done.”
[Pause, and Wendy slightly adjusts her position on the couch, The anger in her eyes has faded somewhat, but the intensity is still there.]
“Like you, I’m a submissionist, so you won’t be the only one benefiting from the limited number of rope breaks. If you’re looking for a good wrestling match, Bryan, you won’t need to look any further, because Josh and I will certainly give you one. But if you’re looking for another outlet for your sadistic tendencies... I daresay you’re going to be sorely disappointed”
[Small smile]
“Either way, the time of the Cartel’s reign is quickly coming to a close. The rightful owner has returned, and the time has come for the good people of PWX to take back their company. For two months, Brian Hollywood has done what he could to destroy everything great about PWX, but he’s failed. And now, he’s about to watch as his empire comes crashing down around him. Because the resistance is over.”
[Wendy breaks into a big grin.]
“And the rebellion is about to begin.”
[Fade]
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
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]
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]
CPW #4- Fruit Basket
Daniel Pollaski barely looked up from the screen of his laptop as the young woman walked into the kitchen. “Hey,” he mumbled quietly, returning to his reading.
“Hey,” Wendy Briese-Thompson replied, brushing a loose strand of her flame-red hair from her face as she pulled a bowl from the cupboard. “What are you doing?”
“Reading up on my opponent for this Saturday,” Pollaski mumured, squinting hard at the computer screen. “Or at least I’m trying to. She blogs like a fourteen year old dyslexic with ADD.”
“That bad, hunh?” Wendy replied with a lopsided smile. Over the past nine years of Pollaski being her friend and manager, she had learned to take most of his insults with a grain of salt. But from the tone in her manager’s voice, she had a feeling his opinion on this matter might not be all that farfetched.
“Yeah, that bad.” Pollaski muttered. “Where’s Terrence and Theresa?”
“Terry had to run and get a new oil filter for the RV, and he took Terr with him,” Wendy replied, referring to her husband and daughter.
“Dear God, this is revolting,” Pollaski muttered. “I could spend all day correcting this horrible, horrible grammar.” He looked up from the computer screen, as Wendy sat down, a bowl of grapes, strawberries, blueberries, and cut watermelon in front of her and a fork in her hand. “You’re from that circle. You remember an Angelina Jones?” Pollaski asked, referring to Angel Kash’s real name.
Wendy grimaced, and shook her head. “Can’t say I do. You know, just because you were a New York socialite, it doesn’t mean you know everyone else.”
Pollaski glanced up from his laptop, and he saw Wendy looking fairly ill-at-ease. While Wendy’s parents, both distinguished Broadway performers, had been a part of the New York City social elite, Wendy had never felt comfortable being a part of that group. Pollaski couldn’t blame her. The few occasions he had to mingle with his ‘betters’, it had been a rather uncomfortable experience. It just wasn’t a place foul-mouthed suburban middle-class people belonged.
“Sorry, I forgot how much you hated New York,” Pollaski said, shrugging.
“Yeah, but had I not hated it so much there,” Wendy said, smiling slightly, “I would never have begged my parents to move away to Indianapolis, and I never would have met Terrence, had Theresa, or been involved with wrestling.”
“Or met me,” Pollaski shot back, grinning.
“Well, it wasn’t ALL good,” Wendy responded with a rare bit of mischief in her emerald eyes. She smiled softly, and ate a few more bites of her fruit bowl. “So what are your plans for Angel Kash?”
Pollaski shrugged. “Style wise, she seems a little like you, except she cheats like a Jerry Springer guest.” He broke into a grin. “Fine by me, I’ve never been much for rules, myself. But she doesn’t have your finesse or polish, so she’s going to make a mistake sooner or later. That’s when I strike, and get the ‘dubya’.
Wendy nodded silently, frowning. “You’re not going to hold back on her, because she’s female, right?” Wendy was all for chivalry- but not in the wrestling ring. She hated nothing more than hearing that she won because her opponent took it easy on her.
“You honestly think that after knowing you for nearly a decade, I’d be dumb enough to underestimate a woman in a wrestling ring?” Pollaski countered in disbelief. “Besides, I don’t know if you remember, but in the few matches I WAS in before I joined CPW, I faced women then, and lost.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t count the Atayla match,” Wendy replied.
“Why?”
“Because I think you ENJOYED getting pinned,” Wendy replied, rolling her eyes.
“Well, she was LICKING me!” Pollaski protested.
“Right,” Wendy said. “Just try and keep your... libido in check out there.”
“Oh, I will,” Pollaski promised with a straight face, then broke into another grin. “But AFTER... I mean, you never kn-”
“Not. Going. To. Happen.” Wendy said slowly and definitively, looking slightly angry that this subject was even breached.
“YOU don’t know that.” Pollaski replied hotly. “I mean, Angel could be so overwhelmed by the raw manliness I exhibit... or I could land on her, bust up all her internal organs, and kill her. Then it’d be fairly easy to-”
“Okay, I’m done.” Wendy said, tossing her fork into her fruit bowl with a clatter. “I’m going to pack for our trip to Los Angeles.”
“Wait!” Pollaski called after her, as Wendy, shaking her head in disgust, walked out of the room. “It’s not really necrophilia if the body’s still warm, right?”
No response, and Pollaski settled back into his chair.
“Well, I thought it was funny...”
“Hey,” Wendy Briese-Thompson replied, brushing a loose strand of her flame-red hair from her face as she pulled a bowl from the cupboard. “What are you doing?”
“Reading up on my opponent for this Saturday,” Pollaski mumured, squinting hard at the computer screen. “Or at least I’m trying to. She blogs like a fourteen year old dyslexic with ADD.”
“That bad, hunh?” Wendy replied with a lopsided smile. Over the past nine years of Pollaski being her friend and manager, she had learned to take most of his insults with a grain of salt. But from the tone in her manager’s voice, she had a feeling his opinion on this matter might not be all that farfetched.
“Yeah, that bad.” Pollaski muttered. “Where’s Terrence and Theresa?”
“Terry had to run and get a new oil filter for the RV, and he took Terr with him,” Wendy replied, referring to her husband and daughter.
“Dear God, this is revolting,” Pollaski muttered. “I could spend all day correcting this horrible, horrible grammar.” He looked up from the computer screen, as Wendy sat down, a bowl of grapes, strawberries, blueberries, and cut watermelon in front of her and a fork in her hand. “You’re from that circle. You remember an Angelina Jones?” Pollaski asked, referring to Angel Kash’s real name.
Wendy grimaced, and shook her head. “Can’t say I do. You know, just because you were a New York socialite, it doesn’t mean you know everyone else.”
Pollaski glanced up from his laptop, and he saw Wendy looking fairly ill-at-ease. While Wendy’s parents, both distinguished Broadway performers, had been a part of the New York City social elite, Wendy had never felt comfortable being a part of that group. Pollaski couldn’t blame her. The few occasions he had to mingle with his ‘betters’, it had been a rather uncomfortable experience. It just wasn’t a place foul-mouthed suburban middle-class people belonged.
“Sorry, I forgot how much you hated New York,” Pollaski said, shrugging.
“Yeah, but had I not hated it so much there,” Wendy said, smiling slightly, “I would never have begged my parents to move away to Indianapolis, and I never would have met Terrence, had Theresa, or been involved with wrestling.”
“Or met me,” Pollaski shot back, grinning.
“Well, it wasn’t ALL good,” Wendy responded with a rare bit of mischief in her emerald eyes. She smiled softly, and ate a few more bites of her fruit bowl. “So what are your plans for Angel Kash?”
Pollaski shrugged. “Style wise, she seems a little like you, except she cheats like a Jerry Springer guest.” He broke into a grin. “Fine by me, I’ve never been much for rules, myself. But she doesn’t have your finesse or polish, so she’s going to make a mistake sooner or later. That’s when I strike, and get the ‘dubya’.
Wendy nodded silently, frowning. “You’re not going to hold back on her, because she’s female, right?” Wendy was all for chivalry- but not in the wrestling ring. She hated nothing more than hearing that she won because her opponent took it easy on her.
“You honestly think that after knowing you for nearly a decade, I’d be dumb enough to underestimate a woman in a wrestling ring?” Pollaski countered in disbelief. “Besides, I don’t know if you remember, but in the few matches I WAS in before I joined CPW, I faced women then, and lost.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t count the Atayla match,” Wendy replied.
“Why?”
“Because I think you ENJOYED getting pinned,” Wendy replied, rolling her eyes.
“Well, she was LICKING me!” Pollaski protested.
“Right,” Wendy said. “Just try and keep your... libido in check out there.”
“Oh, I will,” Pollaski promised with a straight face, then broke into another grin. “But AFTER... I mean, you never kn-”
“Not. Going. To. Happen.” Wendy said slowly and definitively, looking slightly angry that this subject was even breached.
“YOU don’t know that.” Pollaski replied hotly. “I mean, Angel could be so overwhelmed by the raw manliness I exhibit... or I could land on her, bust up all her internal organs, and kill her. Then it’d be fairly easy to-”
“Okay, I’m done.” Wendy said, tossing her fork into her fruit bowl with a clatter. “I’m going to pack for our trip to Los Angeles.”
“Wait!” Pollaski called after her, as Wendy, shaking her head in disgust, walked out of the room. “It’s not really necrophilia if the body’s still warm, right?”
No response, and Pollaski settled back into his chair.
“Well, I thought it was funny...”
CPW #3- Not-So-Pretty in Pink
The following blog was posted at whirlybirdz.com. The opinions expressed herein do not reflect the opinions of the WhirlyBirdz VHS, CPW or anyone but the author. So please don’t sue them.
Hey kids!
Well, how about them apples? I just broke David Anderson like the bottles he knocks to the floor whenever he passes out at the kitchen table. In a way, it makes me feel nice and warm and sunny inside- after all, I just beat the living hell out of a special forces trained soldier. Granted, one that reeked of stale whiskey and urine, but nonetheless, a guy who (supposedly) knows how to fight.
So I was kind of hoping that amazing performance on my part would get me a shot at the Undisputed Panda Joey Flash, but apparently they were actually serious about giving the winner of that Taylor/Belladonna travesty the shot. So yeah, Joey Flash vs. Michelle Taylor. Main Event.
Please watch anyways. My paycheck kinda depends on whether or not you do.
So instead of my rightful place in the land of awesomeness. I’m stuck jerking the curtain (amongst other things) for the second show in a row. This time, I face Angel Kash, self-styled spoiled rich girl from the Hamptons.
I really shouldn’t be looking forward to this match. I mean, what the hell is there to gain in beating up some anorexic socialite from New York City. I mean, her claim to fame on her bio is that she’s ALMOST won the 3WL U.S. title on several occasions! Yeah... ALMOST. Bitch, I’m a four-time, four-time, four-time, FOUR-TIME NGWA Hardcore Champion! And I was never even on the active roster!
And her blogs... MY GOD HER BLOGS.
I mean, her bio says she went to high-school, right? So its assumable she managed to pass the first nine levels of the American education system, right? You know, the ones where you’re supposed to learn basic English. I”m not talking about hanging participles and gerunds and split infinitives. I’m talking basic fourth grade language skills.
But, in case you didn’t go to her blogsite last week (and I so envy you if you didn’t), here’s a sample of Angel Kash’s writing. Things in parentheses are my attempts to make it readable.
Ladies and gentlemen, I ask for a moment of silence here as we mourn the death of our English language.
So let’s recap. I’m facing a dumb quasi-English speaking “trillionaire” in the opening match of the supershow. I’m pretty sure when the ‘best of Pollaski’ DVD comes out, this probably ain’t gonna be on it. There are, however, a few upsides to this match. Namely:
1. She’s kinda hot, and since we’re wrestling, we get to roll around in the ring together!
I know, that kinda sounds pathetic, But I’m not exactly a chick magnet here, so I’m pretty sure I’m willing to take what I can get. And considering the inevitable outcome of the match, this friction between us might just be the only gratifying thing Angel gets out of this contest.
You know, suddenly, I’m really looking forward to this match.
Perhaps a little too much so. I better wrap this up and go take a cold shower. So until next time...
POLLA OUT!
Hey kids!
Well, how about them apples? I just broke David Anderson like the bottles he knocks to the floor whenever he passes out at the kitchen table. In a way, it makes me feel nice and warm and sunny inside- after all, I just beat the living hell out of a special forces trained soldier. Granted, one that reeked of stale whiskey and urine, but nonetheless, a guy who (supposedly) knows how to fight.
So I was kind of hoping that amazing performance on my part would get me a shot at the Undisputed Panda Joey Flash, but apparently they were actually serious about giving the winner of that Taylor/Belladonna travesty the shot. So yeah, Joey Flash vs. Michelle Taylor. Main Event.
Please watch anyways. My paycheck kinda depends on whether or not you do.
So instead of my rightful place in the land of awesomeness. I’m stuck jerking the curtain (amongst other things) for the second show in a row. This time, I face Angel Kash, self-styled spoiled rich girl from the Hamptons.
I really shouldn’t be looking forward to this match. I mean, what the hell is there to gain in beating up some anorexic socialite from New York City. I mean, her claim to fame on her bio is that she’s ALMOST won the 3WL U.S. title on several occasions! Yeah... ALMOST. Bitch, I’m a four-time, four-time, four-time, FOUR-TIME NGWA Hardcore Champion! And I was never even on the active roster!
And her blogs... MY GOD HER BLOGS.
I mean, her bio says she went to high-school, right? So its assumable she managed to pass the first nine levels of the American education system, right? You know, the ones where you’re supposed to learn basic English. I”m not talking about hanging participles and gerunds and split infinitives. I’m talking basic fourth grade language skills.
But, in case you didn’t go to her blogsite last week (and I so envy you if you didn’t), here’s a sample of Angel Kash’s writing. Things in parentheses are my attempts to make it readable.
Quote:
Wow what a hottie (.) I mean who could that be? If you guessed Angel Kash you(‘)r(e) right and not as a(??) dumb as I though(t) congrats. See(,) I am hot their(THERE,) is no doubting that(,) and not only that(,) but all the girls in Africa wished they looked like me, (this would be the point where this sentence becomes a ‘run-on’) well they would if they could ever see me because Africa is so dirt poor they have no tvs(TVs) to even view moi, and if they did they would still get tv(TV) stations from the fifties(not scientifically possible). I mean(,) come on get real and then you say your (You know what? Fuck it, I give up!) going to hurt me? I mean would want to hurt moi I mean come on you have never seen a girl as hot as me in your life nor will you ever after tonight so count your lucky stars that your facing me in the ring. And so what if you were a hunter I mean hunting is so ew I mean like I would do it. I mean I might break a nail and my nails are diamonds they are worth more than the entire continent of Africa that is for damn sure. And after I beat you I will start my path to championship gold around my beautiful tight waist.
Ladies and gentlemen, I ask for a moment of silence here as we mourn the death of our English language.
So let’s recap. I’m facing a dumb quasi-English speaking “trillionaire” in the opening match of the supershow. I’m pretty sure when the ‘best of Pollaski’ DVD comes out, this probably ain’t gonna be on it. There are, however, a few upsides to this match. Namely:
1. She’s kinda hot, and since we’re wrestling, we get to roll around in the ring together!
I know, that kinda sounds pathetic, But I’m not exactly a chick magnet here, so I’m pretty sure I’m willing to take what I can get. And considering the inevitable outcome of the match, this friction between us might just be the only gratifying thing Angel gets out of this contest.
You know, suddenly, I’m really looking forward to this match.
Perhaps a little too much so. I better wrap this up and go take a cold shower. So until next time...
POLLA OUT!
DEFIANCE PODCAST #5- (vs. Stephen Greer)
Friday August 13, 2010
City Streets- Terrence’s Charger
Indianapolis, Indiana
11:51 PM Local Time
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Terrence Thompson declared as he pulled his blood-red 1971 Dodge Charger out of the Club Midnight parking lot and into the road. As he accelerated to just above the speed limit of 35, he glanced over at his wife, who was silently staring out the passenger side window.
Finally Wendy stirred, shaking her head. “No...” she admitted quietly. “Boston was a surprisingly gracious host.”
Terrence nodded in agreement as he switched lanes to pass a slower moving vehicle. “I can’t say I agree with all his opinions, but I think he’s likeable enough. Has his head on straight, that’s for sure.”
Wendy again nodded quietly, as she again turned her head out the window. “He definitely loves his family.”
Terrence nodded, thinking back to Boston proudly showing him a picture of his wife and son, and talking about how everything he had done at Summer Games was to raise money for his kids’ dental work. Upon reflection, he knew that if it had been his family in that situation, he would have done the exact same thing in a heartbeat.
As Terrence turned North on Meridian Street, he glanced over at Wendy, who remained quietly staring out the window. “Everything okay?” he asked.
Wendy nodded her head jerkily, a clear indication that she was lying. “Come on... out with it...” he prodded.
Finally, Wendy turned her head to him. “You seemed to know what you wanted in Boston’s bar pretty quickly” she said softly, accusingly.
Terrence had to fight hard from rolling his eyes. “I was on an auto racing team, hon. What do you think we did while we were on the road? Sat in our hotel rooms and played Parcheesi?”
It was obvious that Wendy didn’t find Terrence’s sarcasm amusing at all, but Terrence continued. “We went to the bars and the clubs, and either you stayed at the bar, had a couple, and shot some pool or threw some darts, or you found some girl and took her back to the hotel room. Which option would YOU have preferred?”
Wendy stared at him coldly. “You didn’t have to do either, Te-”
“Oh, don’t judge me,” Terrence snapped, a little harsher than he intended to. “I drank a couple beers, Wendy, and there’s not a damned thing wrong with that. I never drove drunk, I never fooled around, I had a Bud, and I threw darts with my pit crew. You wanna divorce me over that?”
Wendy blinked in shock at her husbands words, but Terrence didn’t back down. “Don’t take it out on me that you had a glass of wine. And for the record, you’ve drank alcohol before, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“That’s different,” Wendy insisted. “That’s part of communi-”
“So its okay to do it in church, but not at a social event?” Terrence countered. “I think the part that you can’t stand is the fact that you actually LIKED it.”
Wendy opened her mouth to protest, but Terrence cut her off. “Don’t deny it Wendy! You liked the goddamned wine, and it terrifies you because you’ve got some fucked up idea in your head that now you’re going to turn into your parents. Well, and I want to make sure you get this very clear- You. Are. Not. Your. Parents. If you were, you’d be off on Broadway singing showtunes and fucking anyone who wore Versace.”
Wendy’s eyes narrowed at her husband’s phrasing, but she found herself at a loss for words. Finally, she turned away, and looked back out the window.
Terrence sighed. “I’m sorry, hon. But you really needed to hear that. I love you, and that’s why it’s so frustrating to watch you be so goddamned uptight about EVERYTHING you won’t even bother to enjoy yourself. It was so nice to watch you just relax tonight, and talk to Boston like he’s a colleague and associate, not some enemy who was trying to destroy you.”
Wendy nodded silently, and broke into a small smile. “Well, I did have fun...” she admitted.
“See? I’m not saying you start dressing trashy and start walking around with a forty in your hand. Just don’t be so concerned about being proper the whole time. You don’t when we’re alone in the bedroo- EASY!”
Terrence was cut off as Wendy playfully elbowed him in the side, although perhaps not the wisest decision, considering he was driving. Still, Terrence managed to maintain control of the car. He sobered slightly, and looked back at his wife.
“Oh, I meant to tell you. Pollaski told me that Greer booked a Defiance camera crew in a few days.”
“So?” Wendy asked, not entirely sure where her husband was going with this. “Its expected he cut an interview before your match.”
Terrence nodded. “I just wanted to warn you. Politeness is not exactly Greer’s strong point. Especially where you’re concerned.”
Wendy grimaced, and nodded. “I should have expected. Ah well, I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
==================================================
Sunday August 22, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:21 PM Local Time
[Yeah... so THAT turned out to be an understatement]
[Well, Stephen Greer’s promo went live a few days after the Birdz trip to Boston’s club, and it became pretty clear from about the tenth second of the video that this was Stephen Greer at his nastiest.]
[Terrence and even Wendy had managed to take the abuse rather stoically, although Wendy was clearly visibly upset by some of the comments Greer made- especially about Theresa. Terrence just shook his head, said it was the mark of a desperate man to be saying such things, and prepared to shoot his own rebuttal.]
[Which pretty much brings us to where we are now. Terrence Thompson, livng room, on the couch.]
[Smiling?]
“Really, Steve?”
[its a fairly disingenous smile, but yeah. Smiling.]
“Do you really want to fucking go down this route?”
[Not to speek for Stevie here, but considering that promo, the answer would probably be ‘yes’]
“Because, Greer, I don’t think I am the one obsessed around here. I’ll admit, I have a long memory, and perhaps I’m a bit on the excessively bitter side over some of the things you have done to me and my wife in the past. But obsessed?”
[Quick shake of the head]
“Don’t flatter yourself, Greer.”
[Shrug]
“I won’t lie, you, and the rancid filth that spews from your mouth, have been on my mind quite a bit over the past few days. After all, you are my next opponent, and considering our placement on the card, I think this would qualify as a big match, and you can bet your hypodermic collection that I sure as hell want to win this contest. But don’t think for a second that I lose any sleep at night over you, Steve.”
[He did, however, lose a LOT of sleep when Wendy accidentally undercooked the meat while making pork chops the other day. If Greer wants to take credit for that, he’s more than welcome to.]
“You’re hardly worth staying awake for.”
[Neither were the pork chops]
“That video the other day? That was just me doing my job. Sitting down and talking about my upcoming match, and my opponent. I just decided the best thing to do was to tell the truth. After all, if I’m asked to sit down and tell the world exactly what I think of you, I’d be remiss if I held anything back, right?”
[Another shrug]
“But you want to talk about obsessed? Let’s flip things around a bit, Stevie.”
[FLIP!]
“During your past interview, I counted no less than nine references to the supposed condition of my wife’s genitalia and five allegations of Wendy’s infidelity.”
[Give or take]
“Seriously?”
[Terrence arches his eyebrow at the camera. He tries to look nonchalant, but there’s quite a bit of anger in his eyes.]
“You’re surrounded by ‘sun-tanned titties, loose legs, and heroin’, and yet you feel the need to make FOURTEEN sexual references about my wife in the course of one video? And you have the audacity of accusing ME of being obsessed?”
[Snort]
“Leave it to you to try and make shit personal. I suppose this is the point where I get all upset, or jealous, or something, but honestly, what point is there? After all, what’s another Defiance show without Steven Greer once again demonstrating that he has no class?”
[Another shrug]
“The fact of the matter is, everything you say, do, and are is a lie. Are you a talented competitor? Absolutely, But, so were Michael Vick and Barry Bonds. That doesn’t make any of you less of a disgrace to your respective sports.”
[Yeah, and Greer probably shoots‘roids at dogfights!]
“You’re still a cancer to this industry Greer, and you still need to be removed. And come Episode 6?”
[Pause, smirk]
“It’s time for surgery.”
[Fade]
City Streets- Terrence’s Charger
Indianapolis, Indiana
11:51 PM Local Time
“Well, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Terrence Thompson declared as he pulled his blood-red 1971 Dodge Charger out of the Club Midnight parking lot and into the road. As he accelerated to just above the speed limit of 35, he glanced over at his wife, who was silently staring out the passenger side window.
Finally Wendy stirred, shaking her head. “No...” she admitted quietly. “Boston was a surprisingly gracious host.”
Terrence nodded in agreement as he switched lanes to pass a slower moving vehicle. “I can’t say I agree with all his opinions, but I think he’s likeable enough. Has his head on straight, that’s for sure.”
Wendy again nodded quietly, as she again turned her head out the window. “He definitely loves his family.”
Terrence nodded, thinking back to Boston proudly showing him a picture of his wife and son, and talking about how everything he had done at Summer Games was to raise money for his kids’ dental work. Upon reflection, he knew that if it had been his family in that situation, he would have done the exact same thing in a heartbeat.
As Terrence turned North on Meridian Street, he glanced over at Wendy, who remained quietly staring out the window. “Everything okay?” he asked.
Wendy nodded her head jerkily, a clear indication that she was lying. “Come on... out with it...” he prodded.
Finally, Wendy turned her head to him. “You seemed to know what you wanted in Boston’s bar pretty quickly” she said softly, accusingly.
Terrence had to fight hard from rolling his eyes. “I was on an auto racing team, hon. What do you think we did while we were on the road? Sat in our hotel rooms and played Parcheesi?”
It was obvious that Wendy didn’t find Terrence’s sarcasm amusing at all, but Terrence continued. “We went to the bars and the clubs, and either you stayed at the bar, had a couple, and shot some pool or threw some darts, or you found some girl and took her back to the hotel room. Which option would YOU have preferred?”
Wendy stared at him coldly. “You didn’t have to do either, Te-”
“Oh, don’t judge me,” Terrence snapped, a little harsher than he intended to. “I drank a couple beers, Wendy, and there’s not a damned thing wrong with that. I never drove drunk, I never fooled around, I had a Bud, and I threw darts with my pit crew. You wanna divorce me over that?”
Wendy blinked in shock at her husbands words, but Terrence didn’t back down. “Don’t take it out on me that you had a glass of wine. And for the record, you’ve drank alcohol before, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“That’s different,” Wendy insisted. “That’s part of communi-”
“So its okay to do it in church, but not at a social event?” Terrence countered. “I think the part that you can’t stand is the fact that you actually LIKED it.”
Wendy opened her mouth to protest, but Terrence cut her off. “Don’t deny it Wendy! You liked the goddamned wine, and it terrifies you because you’ve got some fucked up idea in your head that now you’re going to turn into your parents. Well, and I want to make sure you get this very clear- You. Are. Not. Your. Parents. If you were, you’d be off on Broadway singing showtunes and fucking anyone who wore Versace.”
Wendy’s eyes narrowed at her husband’s phrasing, but she found herself at a loss for words. Finally, she turned away, and looked back out the window.
Terrence sighed. “I’m sorry, hon. But you really needed to hear that. I love you, and that’s why it’s so frustrating to watch you be so goddamned uptight about EVERYTHING you won’t even bother to enjoy yourself. It was so nice to watch you just relax tonight, and talk to Boston like he’s a colleague and associate, not some enemy who was trying to destroy you.”
Wendy nodded silently, and broke into a small smile. “Well, I did have fun...” she admitted.
“See? I’m not saying you start dressing trashy and start walking around with a forty in your hand. Just don’t be so concerned about being proper the whole time. You don’t when we’re alone in the bedroo- EASY!”
Terrence was cut off as Wendy playfully elbowed him in the side, although perhaps not the wisest decision, considering he was driving. Still, Terrence managed to maintain control of the car. He sobered slightly, and looked back at his wife.
“Oh, I meant to tell you. Pollaski told me that Greer booked a Defiance camera crew in a few days.”
“So?” Wendy asked, not entirely sure where her husband was going with this. “Its expected he cut an interview before your match.”
Terrence nodded. “I just wanted to warn you. Politeness is not exactly Greer’s strong point. Especially where you’re concerned.”
Wendy grimaced, and nodded. “I should have expected. Ah well, I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”
==================================================
Sunday August 22, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:21 PM Local Time
[Yeah... so THAT turned out to be an understatement]
[Well, Stephen Greer’s promo went live a few days after the Birdz trip to Boston’s club, and it became pretty clear from about the tenth second of the video that this was Stephen Greer at his nastiest.]
[Terrence and even Wendy had managed to take the abuse rather stoically, although Wendy was clearly visibly upset by some of the comments Greer made- especially about Theresa. Terrence just shook his head, said it was the mark of a desperate man to be saying such things, and prepared to shoot his own rebuttal.]
[Which pretty much brings us to where we are now. Terrence Thompson, livng room, on the couch.]
[Smiling?]
“Really, Steve?”
[its a fairly disingenous smile, but yeah. Smiling.]
“Do you really want to fucking go down this route?”
[Not to speek for Stevie here, but considering that promo, the answer would probably be ‘yes’]
“Because, Greer, I don’t think I am the one obsessed around here. I’ll admit, I have a long memory, and perhaps I’m a bit on the excessively bitter side over some of the things you have done to me and my wife in the past. But obsessed?”
[Quick shake of the head]
“Don’t flatter yourself, Greer.”
[Shrug]
“I won’t lie, you, and the rancid filth that spews from your mouth, have been on my mind quite a bit over the past few days. After all, you are my next opponent, and considering our placement on the card, I think this would qualify as a big match, and you can bet your hypodermic collection that I sure as hell want to win this contest. But don’t think for a second that I lose any sleep at night over you, Steve.”
[He did, however, lose a LOT of sleep when Wendy accidentally undercooked the meat while making pork chops the other day. If Greer wants to take credit for that, he’s more than welcome to.]
“You’re hardly worth staying awake for.”
[Neither were the pork chops]
“That video the other day? That was just me doing my job. Sitting down and talking about my upcoming match, and my opponent. I just decided the best thing to do was to tell the truth. After all, if I’m asked to sit down and tell the world exactly what I think of you, I’d be remiss if I held anything back, right?”
[Another shrug]
“But you want to talk about obsessed? Let’s flip things around a bit, Stevie.”
[FLIP!]
“During your past interview, I counted no less than nine references to the supposed condition of my wife’s genitalia and five allegations of Wendy’s infidelity.”
[Give or take]
“Seriously?”
[Terrence arches his eyebrow at the camera. He tries to look nonchalant, but there’s quite a bit of anger in his eyes.]
“You’re surrounded by ‘sun-tanned titties, loose legs, and heroin’, and yet you feel the need to make FOURTEEN sexual references about my wife in the course of one video? And you have the audacity of accusing ME of being obsessed?”
[Snort]
“Leave it to you to try and make shit personal. I suppose this is the point where I get all upset, or jealous, or something, but honestly, what point is there? After all, what’s another Defiance show without Steven Greer once again demonstrating that he has no class?”
[Another shrug]
“The fact of the matter is, everything you say, do, and are is a lie. Are you a talented competitor? Absolutely, But, so were Michael Vick and Barry Bonds. That doesn’t make any of you less of a disgrace to your respective sports.”
[Yeah, and Greer probably shoots‘roids at dogfights!]
“You’re still a cancer to this industry Greer, and you still need to be removed. And come Episode 6?”
[Pause, smirk]
“It’s time for surgery.”
[Fade]
EPISODE 38: Warp Factor Seven
Sunday August 22, 2010
The Little Al’E’Inn- Parking Lot
Rachel, Nevada
8:37 AM Local time
“That’s not real, right?” Terrence Thompson asked, pointing at the flying saucer hanging of the back of the tow truck.
“Of course its not.” Wendy Briese-Thompson, his wife, replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “There’s no such thing as aliens, and even if there were, I doubt they’re frequently making crash landings in the Nevada Desert. It’s just a setup they use to attract gullible tourists.”
Rachel, Nevada was a small ranching town of perhaps 80 residents, the majority of which lived in mobile homes along Nevada’s famed Route 375- The Extraterrestrial Highway. Rachel’s claim to fame was being the closest settlement to the infamous Area 51, and as such, it had managed to garner a reasonable amount of attention by adapting an alien motif. Most notably was the Little Al’e’Inn, a three room motel and restaurant located right on 375.
It was essentially the perfect place for the WhirlyBirdz to stop for breakfast as they made the long trip back to Indiana after Wendy’s CWC debut. Now that they’re bellies were filled, and ready for a long day of travelling, Wendy and Terrence stood outside the restaurant, staring at the strange display, while Pollaski, Theresa, and Cassie perused the Little Al’e’Inn’s gift shop.
“You know,” Terrence pointed out, “Since we’re here, we’re among those ‘gullible tourists,”
“I know,” Wendy said. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing- whatever brings money in, right? Besides, part of the fun of getting to travel like this is the opportunity to see strange and wonderful things.”
Terrence snorted in amusement as the door to the restaurant opened, and three people emerged. “By ‘strange’, I sure hope you weren’t talking about our daughter and manager.”
Wendy turned to follow her husband’s gaze, and rolled her eyes. Pollaski had just spoilt Theresa rotten with all sorts of alien merchandising, from the Alien T-shirt, to the glow-in-the-dark saucer in her hand, to the antennae ball hairband now resting on her head. Pollaski had also gotten himself a shirt and antennae balls, and was carrying a life-size inflatable alien as well. Cassie, the most sensible one of this trio, had a coffee cup.
“Mommy! Look what Danoo bot me!” Theresa proclaimed, waving her UFO around.
Wendy smiled patiently at her daughter. “Did you say thank you?” Theresa vigorously nodded, and Pollaski smiled in confirmation. Wendy turned back to her husband. “We should get moving,” she said.
Terrence nodded. “Alright, guys, back in the RV,” he announced. “Hurry Theresa, before a government agent thinks you’re a real alien and kidnaps you.”
“Terrence!” Wendy scolded, smacking her husband on the arm, as the five of them walked back to the Newman King Aire sitting on the side of the road, quickly getting into the vehicle, and finding their seats.
“By the way,” Terrence said to his wife, as he started the engine. “I never got to tell you- you were awesome out there last night against Black and Pooler.”
“Thanks,” Wendy said, buckling her seatbelt, the elation of her win having more or less overshadowed her anger at her husband and manager over the incident in the parking lot earlier in the night. “They were both tough... I was lucky I managed to catch Pooler with that kick, and swing momentum in my favor.”
Terrence quickly turned the RV back onto 375, leaving Rachel behind. After accelerating up to about 85, Terrence turned towards his wife. “You gonna be okay Monday? I mean, Jenna got you hard last week, and then this match, and all this travelling-”
“I’m fine, Terry,” Wendy insisted. The soreness from her match with Himmler had worn off around Thursday, and the three-way match actually hadn’t taken too much out of her. She would just be glad to get back to Indiana, and get a few days to rest after Adrenaline.
“Big match though,” Terrence grunted. “Never faced Poole before.”
Wendy nodded silently. “He’s power and technical, so I just need to make sure I don’t get caught. He’s got a lot of nasty moves, so if he catches me, I could be in trouble.”
Terrence shrugged. “You’ve faced guys like him before though. Just do what you normally do, and you’ll be fine.”
Wendy smiled, “I hope so. Are you upset about not getting a match this week?”
“Nah,” Terrence said, stretching a tad, and yawning. “My last week off was the first week of June, and that was for Summer Games, so I really haven’t had a break since May. It’ll be nice to rest up for a few days, before I make another run at the championship.”
Wendy smiled softly. “Good luck with that.”
Terrence turned and grinned at his wife. “Yeah, well-”
“What ith dat?” Theresa yelped from the back, cutting Terrence off. Concerned, Wendy turned behind her to see Theresa, perched on the hide-a-bed in the back of the main cabin, pointing out the portside window. Pollaski, sitting next to her, turned too, looking out the window.
“I dunno...” the portly manager said something. It’s high up in the sky... and like metallic...”
“Probably a weather balloon, Terr-Bear,” Wendy said. Sitting passenger side, she was the only one in the RV who couldn’t look out the window. “Or just the way the sun’s reflecting off a cloud.”
“I dunno...” Cassie said, now also looking out the window as well. “I don’t know what it is.”
“So we can’t identify it...” Terrence began slowly.
“And it’s flying...” Cassie added.
Pollaski squinted out the window again. “Definitely an object.”
Silence reigned over the RV for a while, as Dan and Cassie exchanged bewildered glances. Terrence spoke the loudest for them all, as he ever so slightly pressed his foot harder on the gas pedal.
“Oh brother,” Wendy finally said, rolling her eyes.
“Hey, we’re on the Extraterrestrial Highway,” Terrence said, grinning at her. “It never hurts to be safe.”
===============================================================
Sunday August 22, 2010
The RV- Main Cabin
Thompson Springs, Utah
4:41 PM Local Time
[Well, needless to say, the Birdz were NOT abducted by aliens, and they managed to get a sizeable chunk of their journey out of the way, making it all the way into eastern Utah by mid-afternoon. Getting low on gas, the Birdz peeled off and stopped at one of the most appropriate town names they have ever encountered in their travels]
[Thompson Springs. Cuz, that’s their last name.]
[Well, Thompson. Not Springs.]
[So we open once again in the cabin of the RV, where Wendy is sitting on the hide-a-bed sofa, sitting in her usual fairly rigid position.. She’s wearing a pair of capris, and a pale yellow short sleeved camisole. She smiles gently at the camera, before talking.]
Wendy: “Well, if anything, Jenna Himmler certainly earned my respect as an in ring competitor last week.”
[Wendy grimaces just a tad, as she involuntarily rubs the side of her abdomen, as if the memory of the beating Jenna Himmler tried to give her was sparked by that one simple statement.]
Wendy: “I think I’ve felt less sore after some losses than I did after my victory over her last Monday. Jenna came straight at me with everything she had, and she displayed a remarkable fighting spirit. There were several moments during that match where I knew I was in trouble, and I think it was only due to my greater experience as a wrestler that I was able to come away the victor. If anyone is looking for a rising star in wrestling- she’s someone to keep an eye on.”
[Wendy sighs, looking none-to-happy about what she’s about to say. But she feels its necessary to say it.]
Wendy: “Which means the real tragedy is that, no matter how good she does, her polarizing viewpoints will always haunt her wherever she goes. In this industry, we are often judged for what we say and do outside the ring as well as what we do inside it. And no matter what she does, the moniker she has attached to herself, and the incindiary comments she makes will always define her more than her talent.”
[Wendy shakes her head, dismayed that such talent was put in such a hateful person.]
Wendy: “But, sadly, it seems the bigger news surrounding me coming out of Adrenaline isn’t the match I had with Jenna, but rather my decision to align myself with ‘The Resistance’.”
[Shrug]
Wendy: “To simply put it, I was asked. I think Danny was grateful to me for getting his sister out of that tight spot with John and Lillith, and he felt that since we shared the same goal, I would be valuable ally. I’m not a fan of stables- and I sure didn’t want PWX turning into a faction war, but I’m sick of having to look over my shoulder every single moment wondering if the Cartel is going to make an attempt on my career. What happened at Respect is Earned still troubles me- what would have happened had my daughter been in that room when Tyler Graves so recklessly charged in and attacked me?”
[Wendy’s emerald eye’s flash, a surefire indication that she’s angry. She does, however, manage to keep her voice calm.]
Wendy: “When I found out what the Resistance had planned- to run in against the Cartel during the Apuestas match, I reluctantly agreed. Everyone knows my opinions on outside interference- but I couldn’t just let the Cartel sweep in and take away something my husband had been working so hard for, especially when three other men were so willing to come in alongside me. I begged the three of them to hold off until the Cartel actually got involved, and thankfully, they did. It’s a shame the match ended the way it did, because Terry had every right to earn that title shot on his own terms, but Brian forced everyone’s hand by having his own cronies get involved.”
[Another shrug. It’s obvious Wendy’s not overjoyed about what happened, but at the same time, she feels that what could be done to stop it was.]
Wendy: “But onto this week, where I face Devon Poole, in what will surely be another difficult match. Devon is perhaps one of the most underrated competitors in this company. He managed to take Victor Mandrake, one of the most dominating wrestlers I’ve ever seen, to a draw. He has pulled off impressive wins over people such as Josh Graves, Brian Hollywood, Danny Szatkowski, and the Belmonts. He also twice now has taken CWC World Champion Tyler Graves to the limit, once when that very title was on the line, and then once again last week at No Limits. My manager may talk a lot of trash- but when it comes to the Power-X, he’s as honest as he can be. Devon Poole is eighth in those rankings for a reason.”
[Talking about your booking swings- going from facing a high-flying, brawling, neo-Nazi white supremacist to facing a technical powerhouse African-American? Wendy probably completely misses the irony in that.]
Wendy: “But Devon, you come across to me as an extremely angry and bitter person. In a way, I can empathize with your frustrations. I’ll confess- there’s times where I feel frustrated too. I know I carry one of the tag team titles, but on an individual basis, I feel I’m often treading water. Since I’ve arrived in PWX, the only loss I have suffered was to my own husband, and yet, I’ve never once received a singles title shot. Sometimes I wonder if anyone really notices the effort I put into each and every one of my matches, or if they’d care even if they did.”
[Another sigh from Wendy, and for the first time in a while, she looks discouraged. She manages to push her own thoughts away though, and keeps going.]
Wendy: “You haven’t received a singles title shot yourself since late February- nearly six months ago, so we’re kind of in the same boat. It must have been painful to watch Josh Graves, a man you beat at Full Throttle, be practically handed the Evolution Championship, while you were completely ignored.”
[Wendy nods with genuine sympathy]
Wendy: “But you’re going about things the wrong way, Devon. Constantly bragging about how much better you are than everyone else isn’t going to change anyone’s opinion about you- you’ll only look like a loudmouth braggart. Doing something like breaking Scott Styles’ ankle won’t do it either- you only look like a bully.”
[Wendy bites her lip, and shakes her head grimly.]
Wendy: “Respect can be a tough- and in some cases even impossible- thing to earn. Like I said a couple weeks ago- you cannot FORCE someone to respect you. The only thing we can do is to keep going out, and doing the best we can, every week. Perhaps this week is designed as a challenge- maybe this match is meant to set something up for the winner?”
[A hopeful shrug]
Wendy: “Devon, I actually do respect you. I think under that boastful exterior lies an extremely talented wrestler, a man who’s capable of beating anyone on any given day. But what I cannot respect- or even understand- is your support of the Cartel.
[Wendy closes her eyes for just a second, gathering her thoughts.]
Wendy: “Last week, you talked about how you’ve always seen Tyler Graves for what he was- a selfish viper. Before Graves rammed my head into the wall, I had never met him before in my life, so honestly I have no idea what he was like before then.”
[Remember- she wasn’t around when Graves was b’donka’donkin’ Pariah’s wife! She would NOT have approved.]
Wendy: “You refused to support Graves because you think he only joined the Cartel for himself- what makes him so different from the other members? Do you honestly think that John Ojeda cares about anyone but himself? Do you honestly think that Brian Hollywood will look beyond his own ego and do what’s best for this company? The only member of that organization t hat may even be remotely geniuine is John Pariah. But like I said two weeks ago- John Pariah has a tendency to go about things in the most ineffective ways possible.”
[Wendy shifts in her seat, trying to get more comfortable, folding her hands in her lap in front of her.]
Wendy: “Face it, Devon. The Cartel is just the latest incarnation of the ‘good ol’ boys’ cliques that have ruined countless wrestling promotions throughout the years. They only care about themselves, which is a bad mentality for the owner of our company to have. You have just as much a right to support them as I have to oppose them, but if you listen to nothing else I say, please listen to this.”
[Wendy leans forward just a tad, focusing her emerald eyes into the camera lens. She doesn’t blink, just stares directly into the camera.]
Wendy: “You will gain absolutely nothing if the Cartel takes over. You might like them, or support them, but you are not them. All you are is supporting the ruin of PWX, and possibly your own career.”
[Wendy shakes her head sadly, knowing that Poole will likely ignore her.]
Wendy: “I wish you the best of luck, Devon. Let’s go out and have ourselves a great match, one that truly demonstrates the talents you and I both have. I said it earlier, but this match is our opportunity to get people to sit up and take notice, and I truly think big things may await one, or even the both of us, on the other side of this contest.”
[A respectful nod]
Wendy: “But Devon... win or lose, I think you need to do some thinking. I think you’re a good person, and a good competitor, but the path you have chosen is the wrong one, and I think its going to only lead to more frustration on your part. You always talk about being Mr. Reality, and giving ‘Reality Checks.’”
[Small shrug, and a half-smile]
Wendy: “The most important Reality Check might just be the one you give yourself.”
[Fade]
The Little Al’E’Inn- Parking Lot
Rachel, Nevada
8:37 AM Local time
“That’s not real, right?” Terrence Thompson asked, pointing at the flying saucer hanging of the back of the tow truck.
“Of course its not.” Wendy Briese-Thompson, his wife, replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “There’s no such thing as aliens, and even if there were, I doubt they’re frequently making crash landings in the Nevada Desert. It’s just a setup they use to attract gullible tourists.”
Rachel, Nevada was a small ranching town of perhaps 80 residents, the majority of which lived in mobile homes along Nevada’s famed Route 375- The Extraterrestrial Highway. Rachel’s claim to fame was being the closest settlement to the infamous Area 51, and as such, it had managed to garner a reasonable amount of attention by adapting an alien motif. Most notably was the Little Al’e’Inn, a three room motel and restaurant located right on 375.
It was essentially the perfect place for the WhirlyBirdz to stop for breakfast as they made the long trip back to Indiana after Wendy’s CWC debut. Now that they’re bellies were filled, and ready for a long day of travelling, Wendy and Terrence stood outside the restaurant, staring at the strange display, while Pollaski, Theresa, and Cassie perused the Little Al’e’Inn’s gift shop.
“You know,” Terrence pointed out, “Since we’re here, we’re among those ‘gullible tourists,”
“I know,” Wendy said. “I didn’t mean it as a bad thing- whatever brings money in, right? Besides, part of the fun of getting to travel like this is the opportunity to see strange and wonderful things.”
Terrence snorted in amusement as the door to the restaurant opened, and three people emerged. “By ‘strange’, I sure hope you weren’t talking about our daughter and manager.”
Wendy turned to follow her husband’s gaze, and rolled her eyes. Pollaski had just spoilt Theresa rotten with all sorts of alien merchandising, from the Alien T-shirt, to the glow-in-the-dark saucer in her hand, to the antennae ball hairband now resting on her head. Pollaski had also gotten himself a shirt and antennae balls, and was carrying a life-size inflatable alien as well. Cassie, the most sensible one of this trio, had a coffee cup.
“Mommy! Look what Danoo bot me!” Theresa proclaimed, waving her UFO around.
Wendy smiled patiently at her daughter. “Did you say thank you?” Theresa vigorously nodded, and Pollaski smiled in confirmation. Wendy turned back to her husband. “We should get moving,” she said.
Terrence nodded. “Alright, guys, back in the RV,” he announced. “Hurry Theresa, before a government agent thinks you’re a real alien and kidnaps you.”
“Terrence!” Wendy scolded, smacking her husband on the arm, as the five of them walked back to the Newman King Aire sitting on the side of the road, quickly getting into the vehicle, and finding their seats.
“By the way,” Terrence said to his wife, as he started the engine. “I never got to tell you- you were awesome out there last night against Black and Pooler.”
“Thanks,” Wendy said, buckling her seatbelt, the elation of her win having more or less overshadowed her anger at her husband and manager over the incident in the parking lot earlier in the night. “They were both tough... I was lucky I managed to catch Pooler with that kick, and swing momentum in my favor.”
Terrence quickly turned the RV back onto 375, leaving Rachel behind. After accelerating up to about 85, Terrence turned towards his wife. “You gonna be okay Monday? I mean, Jenna got you hard last week, and then this match, and all this travelling-”
“I’m fine, Terry,” Wendy insisted. The soreness from her match with Himmler had worn off around Thursday, and the three-way match actually hadn’t taken too much out of her. She would just be glad to get back to Indiana, and get a few days to rest after Adrenaline.
“Big match though,” Terrence grunted. “Never faced Poole before.”
Wendy nodded silently. “He’s power and technical, so I just need to make sure I don’t get caught. He’s got a lot of nasty moves, so if he catches me, I could be in trouble.”
Terrence shrugged. “You’ve faced guys like him before though. Just do what you normally do, and you’ll be fine.”
Wendy smiled, “I hope so. Are you upset about not getting a match this week?”
“Nah,” Terrence said, stretching a tad, and yawning. “My last week off was the first week of June, and that was for Summer Games, so I really haven’t had a break since May. It’ll be nice to rest up for a few days, before I make another run at the championship.”
Wendy smiled softly. “Good luck with that.”
Terrence turned and grinned at his wife. “Yeah, well-”
“What ith dat?” Theresa yelped from the back, cutting Terrence off. Concerned, Wendy turned behind her to see Theresa, perched on the hide-a-bed in the back of the main cabin, pointing out the portside window. Pollaski, sitting next to her, turned too, looking out the window.
“I dunno...” the portly manager said something. It’s high up in the sky... and like metallic...”
“Probably a weather balloon, Terr-Bear,” Wendy said. Sitting passenger side, she was the only one in the RV who couldn’t look out the window. “Or just the way the sun’s reflecting off a cloud.”
“I dunno...” Cassie said, now also looking out the window as well. “I don’t know what it is.”
“So we can’t identify it...” Terrence began slowly.
“And it’s flying...” Cassie added.
Pollaski squinted out the window again. “Definitely an object.”
Silence reigned over the RV for a while, as Dan and Cassie exchanged bewildered glances. Terrence spoke the loudest for them all, as he ever so slightly pressed his foot harder on the gas pedal.
“Oh brother,” Wendy finally said, rolling her eyes.
“Hey, we’re on the Extraterrestrial Highway,” Terrence said, grinning at her. “It never hurts to be safe.”
===============================================================
Sunday August 22, 2010
The RV- Main Cabin
Thompson Springs, Utah
4:41 PM Local Time
[Well, needless to say, the Birdz were NOT abducted by aliens, and they managed to get a sizeable chunk of their journey out of the way, making it all the way into eastern Utah by mid-afternoon. Getting low on gas, the Birdz peeled off and stopped at one of the most appropriate town names they have ever encountered in their travels]
[Thompson Springs. Cuz, that’s their last name.]
[Well, Thompson. Not Springs.]
[So we open once again in the cabin of the RV, where Wendy is sitting on the hide-a-bed sofa, sitting in her usual fairly rigid position.. She’s wearing a pair of capris, and a pale yellow short sleeved camisole. She smiles gently at the camera, before talking.]
Wendy: “Well, if anything, Jenna Himmler certainly earned my respect as an in ring competitor last week.”
[Wendy grimaces just a tad, as she involuntarily rubs the side of her abdomen, as if the memory of the beating Jenna Himmler tried to give her was sparked by that one simple statement.]
Wendy: “I think I’ve felt less sore after some losses than I did after my victory over her last Monday. Jenna came straight at me with everything she had, and she displayed a remarkable fighting spirit. There were several moments during that match where I knew I was in trouble, and I think it was only due to my greater experience as a wrestler that I was able to come away the victor. If anyone is looking for a rising star in wrestling- she’s someone to keep an eye on.”
[Wendy sighs, looking none-to-happy about what she’s about to say. But she feels its necessary to say it.]
Wendy: “Which means the real tragedy is that, no matter how good she does, her polarizing viewpoints will always haunt her wherever she goes. In this industry, we are often judged for what we say and do outside the ring as well as what we do inside it. And no matter what she does, the moniker she has attached to herself, and the incindiary comments she makes will always define her more than her talent.”
[Wendy shakes her head, dismayed that such talent was put in such a hateful person.]
Wendy: “But, sadly, it seems the bigger news surrounding me coming out of Adrenaline isn’t the match I had with Jenna, but rather my decision to align myself with ‘The Resistance’.”
[Shrug]
Wendy: “To simply put it, I was asked. I think Danny was grateful to me for getting his sister out of that tight spot with John and Lillith, and he felt that since we shared the same goal, I would be valuable ally. I’m not a fan of stables- and I sure didn’t want PWX turning into a faction war, but I’m sick of having to look over my shoulder every single moment wondering if the Cartel is going to make an attempt on my career. What happened at Respect is Earned still troubles me- what would have happened had my daughter been in that room when Tyler Graves so recklessly charged in and attacked me?”
[Wendy’s emerald eye’s flash, a surefire indication that she’s angry. She does, however, manage to keep her voice calm.]
Wendy: “When I found out what the Resistance had planned- to run in against the Cartel during the Apuestas match, I reluctantly agreed. Everyone knows my opinions on outside interference- but I couldn’t just let the Cartel sweep in and take away something my husband had been working so hard for, especially when three other men were so willing to come in alongside me. I begged the three of them to hold off until the Cartel actually got involved, and thankfully, they did. It’s a shame the match ended the way it did, because Terry had every right to earn that title shot on his own terms, but Brian forced everyone’s hand by having his own cronies get involved.”
[Another shrug. It’s obvious Wendy’s not overjoyed about what happened, but at the same time, she feels that what could be done to stop it was.]
Wendy: “But onto this week, where I face Devon Poole, in what will surely be another difficult match. Devon is perhaps one of the most underrated competitors in this company. He managed to take Victor Mandrake, one of the most dominating wrestlers I’ve ever seen, to a draw. He has pulled off impressive wins over people such as Josh Graves, Brian Hollywood, Danny Szatkowski, and the Belmonts. He also twice now has taken CWC World Champion Tyler Graves to the limit, once when that very title was on the line, and then once again last week at No Limits. My manager may talk a lot of trash- but when it comes to the Power-X, he’s as honest as he can be. Devon Poole is eighth in those rankings for a reason.”
[Talking about your booking swings- going from facing a high-flying, brawling, neo-Nazi white supremacist to facing a technical powerhouse African-American? Wendy probably completely misses the irony in that.]
Wendy: “But Devon, you come across to me as an extremely angry and bitter person. In a way, I can empathize with your frustrations. I’ll confess- there’s times where I feel frustrated too. I know I carry one of the tag team titles, but on an individual basis, I feel I’m often treading water. Since I’ve arrived in PWX, the only loss I have suffered was to my own husband, and yet, I’ve never once received a singles title shot. Sometimes I wonder if anyone really notices the effort I put into each and every one of my matches, or if they’d care even if they did.”
[Another sigh from Wendy, and for the first time in a while, she looks discouraged. She manages to push her own thoughts away though, and keeps going.]
Wendy: “You haven’t received a singles title shot yourself since late February- nearly six months ago, so we’re kind of in the same boat. It must have been painful to watch Josh Graves, a man you beat at Full Throttle, be practically handed the Evolution Championship, while you were completely ignored.”
[Wendy nods with genuine sympathy]
Wendy: “But you’re going about things the wrong way, Devon. Constantly bragging about how much better you are than everyone else isn’t going to change anyone’s opinion about you- you’ll only look like a loudmouth braggart. Doing something like breaking Scott Styles’ ankle won’t do it either- you only look like a bully.”
[Wendy bites her lip, and shakes her head grimly.]
Wendy: “Respect can be a tough- and in some cases even impossible- thing to earn. Like I said a couple weeks ago- you cannot FORCE someone to respect you. The only thing we can do is to keep going out, and doing the best we can, every week. Perhaps this week is designed as a challenge- maybe this match is meant to set something up for the winner?”
[A hopeful shrug]
Wendy: “Devon, I actually do respect you. I think under that boastful exterior lies an extremely talented wrestler, a man who’s capable of beating anyone on any given day. But what I cannot respect- or even understand- is your support of the Cartel.
[Wendy closes her eyes for just a second, gathering her thoughts.]
Wendy: “Last week, you talked about how you’ve always seen Tyler Graves for what he was- a selfish viper. Before Graves rammed my head into the wall, I had never met him before in my life, so honestly I have no idea what he was like before then.”
[Remember- she wasn’t around when Graves was b’donka’donkin’ Pariah’s wife! She would NOT have approved.]
Wendy: “You refused to support Graves because you think he only joined the Cartel for himself- what makes him so different from the other members? Do you honestly think that John Ojeda cares about anyone but himself? Do you honestly think that Brian Hollywood will look beyond his own ego and do what’s best for this company? The only member of that organization t hat may even be remotely geniuine is John Pariah. But like I said two weeks ago- John Pariah has a tendency to go about things in the most ineffective ways possible.”
[Wendy shifts in her seat, trying to get more comfortable, folding her hands in her lap in front of her.]
Wendy: “Face it, Devon. The Cartel is just the latest incarnation of the ‘good ol’ boys’ cliques that have ruined countless wrestling promotions throughout the years. They only care about themselves, which is a bad mentality for the owner of our company to have. You have just as much a right to support them as I have to oppose them, but if you listen to nothing else I say, please listen to this.”
[Wendy leans forward just a tad, focusing her emerald eyes into the camera lens. She doesn’t blink, just stares directly into the camera.]
Wendy: “You will gain absolutely nothing if the Cartel takes over. You might like them, or support them, but you are not them. All you are is supporting the ruin of PWX, and possibly your own career.”
[Wendy shakes her head sadly, knowing that Poole will likely ignore her.]
Wendy: “I wish you the best of luck, Devon. Let’s go out and have ourselves a great match, one that truly demonstrates the talents you and I both have. I said it earlier, but this match is our opportunity to get people to sit up and take notice, and I truly think big things may await one, or even the both of us, on the other side of this contest.”
[A respectful nod]
Wendy: “But Devon... win or lose, I think you need to do some thinking. I think you’re a good person, and a good competitor, but the path you have chosen is the wrong one, and I think its going to only lead to more frustration on your part. You always talk about being Mr. Reality, and giving ‘Reality Checks.’”
[Small shrug, and a half-smile]
Wendy: “The most important Reality Check might just be the one you give yourself.”
[Fade]
EPISODE 37: Just Deserts
Friday August 20, 2010
WhirlyBirdz RV- outside
Somewhere in Nevada
7:31 PM Local Time
[The Nevada Desert]
[August]
[Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to hold a show here?]
[Nonetheless, the married tag-team known as the WhirlyBirdz (Terrence Thompson and Wendy Briese), have made the long trip from Indianapolis for their CWC debut (Well, Wendy’s CWC debut. Their idiot manager forgot to send in the paperwork for Terrence). Traveling along are, of course, their usual entourage. Daughter Theresa, idiot manager Pollaski, and travel-along nanny Cassie.]
[So after a couple hard days of driving (Terrence, being an ex-auto racer, drives fast), the Birdz have arrived in ‘The Middle of Nowhere’ Nevada, where they have set up camp and settled down to rest for the big day tomorrow.]
[It’s a pleasant evening as the picture fades in, the sun just starting to dip below the western horizon, casting brilliant streaks of orange across the desert evening sky. Sitting in a lawn chair just outside the RV is a young woman, in her late twenties, with shoulder-length flame-red hair tied behind her in a ponytail, and gentle emerald green eyes. While not exactly a supermodel, she definitely could be considered attractive in that girl next door sort of way. For being in the desert in the middle of summer, she is fairly conservatively dressed, wearing a pale green knee-length summer dress, the straps just wide enough to cover her shoulders. As would be expected of a lady of modesty, the woman sits cross legged in her chair, a cool, frosty glass of iced tea sitting on the ground beside her.]
[This, of course, is Wendy Briese, ready to shoot her first ever CWC promo. Her four companions have gone out for a nice evening walk, giving Wendy some much needed time alone to gather her thoughts for tomorrow. Wendy opens her mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. Finally, after a few seconds of deliberation, she sighs, and gives a small smile to the camera.]
Wendy: “You have to forgive me if I seem a little jittery. I always get a little nervous before my first match.”
[To be fair, she gets nervous before pretty much EVERY match. When you’re a 130 lb girl in the business of routinely fighting guys twice your weight, nerves tend to come with the territory. Never has affected her performance in the ring, however.]
Wendy: “You’d think after five years in this business, I’d have gotten used to it. But making a positive first impression is so very important in this industry. Perform well, and you can immediately establish yourself as a commodity, quickly moving yourself towards the top of the cards and the big matches every wrestler dreams of competing in. But underwhelm, and you get relegated to filler- or, even worse, finding yourself released.”
[Wendy takes a deep breath, again trying to focus her thoughts. Finally, she flashes a smile at the camera.]
Wendy: “I’m sure there’s a few of you who know of me, but for those of you who don’t, my name is Wendy Briese-Thompson. I began wrestling in late 2001 with my then boyfriend Terrence, forming a tag team known as the WhirlyBirdz. I won’t lie, I’m never going to go down in history as the most dominating wrestler of all time, but I’m very proud of what I have been able to accomplish, both in singles and in tag teams, and I’m looking forward to the opportunities I have in the future.”
[Wendy pauses for just a second, taking a sip of her iced tea, and brushes a few stray strands of her hair from her face.]
Wendy: “Terrence and I retired in late 2005, to get married and raise a family. We have a wonderful four-year old daughter, Theresa, who is the light of my life. I won’t get into why Terrence and I returned to the ring this past April, but other than the circumstances surrounding it, I don’t regret it in the slightest. One of best parts about our return to wrestling is that I have the opportunity to take my daughter around the country, and show her all kinds of wonderful places. And Theresa’s a smart, tough girl. If I didn’t think she could handle being on the road, watching her parents compete, I would return to retirement in a heartbeat.”
[As she continues to talk, Wendy’s nervousness seems to abate, as in merely having a chance to talk about herself, and her upcoming match, has calmed her nerves somewhat. By this point, she seems considerably more relaxed.]
Wendy: “I’m excited that I was invited to participate in the Council’s InFamy show. Most of my career was spent in the now-defunct WFWA interfed, and the challenges and opportunities that came with being in an interfed was one of the most appealing aspects of this business. It’s always an honor to represent your home organization and do them proud, and I hope to represent the PWX here as well as I have my other companies in the past.”
[Wendy pauses for just a second, smiling in reminiscence at the glories she once held in the old WFWA. Its a bittersweet memory, considering she returned to wrestling in an attempt to help save the alliance, only for it to die just a few months later.]
Wendy: “I’m glad to see the Council fully intends to have newcomers hit the ground running here. I think a ‘triple threat’ is one of the most challenging matches in all of wrestling to win. In a one-on-one situation, once you get your opponent down, there is no one to stop you. And with more wrestlers involved- there’s always a chance that your other opponents may be too distracted with each other to stop you when you make a cover. But with just three in the ring- there’s someone to stop you, and there is no distraction. You factor in that I’m facing two very talented individuals in Bob Pooler and Jared Black, and I’m definitely going to have to earn my win.”
[Wendy grins ever-so slightly. She always likes a good challenge, and she sees it in this contest.]
Wendy: “Finding information on Bob Pooler was a tough task. I know he’s from Montreal, and he competed in the Ascension tournament back in February. But the company he represented, the UCWA, seems to have left the Council a few months ago. And even there, Pooler seems to have taken a leave of absence. Even so, from what I was able to gather, he was highly regarded. He’s a member of the UCWA Hall of Fame, and a former World Champion, so obviously he’s a dangerous opponent.”
[A slight pause, as Wendy takes another sip of her iced tea, then returns to talking.]
Wendy: “Jared Black, on the other hand, is much easier to scout, as he competes for PrYde Wrestling. Like me, Jared is making his CWC debut, so I’m sure he’s as anxious to get in the ring and compete as I am. Jared is a two-time and current PrYde Evolution Champion, and has competed for their World Title as well.”
[Small shrug]
Wendy: “In fact, the Jared Black story could almost be viewed as inspirational. Just a few years ago, the man weighed nearly four-hundred pounds! He is now... quite literally, half the man he used to be! That’s honestly amazing. My own manager, Pollaski, weighs over three-hundred himself, and he’s always had frustrations with his inability to lose his own mass. He remarked to me the other day that he was impressed with what Jared managed to accomplish- and he rarely compliments anyone.”
[There were, however, a rather large number of Subway jokes from the ever-sarcastic Pollaski, which annoyed Wendy to no end. Ah well, Jared’s probably heard them all.]
[Wendy’s smile fades, and she gives the camera a similar look to the one she gives Theresa when she catches her stealing cookies.]
Wendy: “So you can imagine how disappointed I felt when I watched a replay of the last Vindication, and I saw Jared driving a steel chair into the head of another man. So much of my respect for Jared disappeared in that one swing, because what honestly did it accomplish? Jared justified it as him showing that he would do anything to retain his title... but a true champion shouldn’t have to resort to ‘anything’. A true champion need only rely on his own abilities, not cheating, weapons or outside interference. From what I read, Jared is better than the man he chose to be that night.”
[Wendy looks down, and shakes her head sadly. Wendy has always considered wrestling to be an athletic competition, and she detests the usage of any weapons, or outside interference, as disgraces to the sport.
Wendy: “As for me...”
[Another shrug.]
Wendy: “I’m good at what I do. My kicks don’t shatter bones, my submissions don’t dislocate joints, and my throws don’t cause the entire arena to shake, but I’m effective nonetheless. What I lack in size and strength, I more than make up for in my speed, my technique, and the fact that I won’t give up until the match ends. In short, while I don’t end careers, I do win matches, and I win them the right way.”
[Wendy tries to say it all matter-of-factly, but a bit of boasting does enter into her voice. Even though she tries hard to hide it, Wendy has an ego like any other professional wrestler, and she’s fairly proud that she’s always proven that one doesn't need to cheat to win.]
Wendy: “I’m looking forward to this match. It may not have all the glitz and glamor of a main event, but for a chance to make that first impression, it’s a wonderful opportunity. Jared is in a federation where women compete against the men, and Pooler was defeated by Tara Michaels in the first round of the Ascencion tournament, so I know neither man is going to overlook me on the basis of my gender. I’m glad for that- I hate being accused of winning matches because of chivalry.”
[A small grimace. She’s faced those accusations too many times for her liking.]
Wendy: “Gentlemen, I will see you both in the ring, Saturday night. Let’s give the fans a match to be proud of, and steal the show. Good luck to the both of you.”
[Wendy nods respectfully towards the camera, then breaks into the cheesy grin she only wears on the rare occasions she attempts to tell a joke.]
[Brace yourself. They’re normally horrendous.]
Wendy: “And may the best WOMAN win.”
[And fade]
WhirlyBirdz RV- outside
Somewhere in Nevada
7:31 PM Local Time
[The Nevada Desert]
[August]
[Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to hold a show here?]
[Nonetheless, the married tag-team known as the WhirlyBirdz (Terrence Thompson and Wendy Briese), have made the long trip from Indianapolis for their CWC debut (Well, Wendy’s CWC debut. Their idiot manager forgot to send in the paperwork for Terrence). Traveling along are, of course, their usual entourage. Daughter Theresa, idiot manager Pollaski, and travel-along nanny Cassie.]
[So after a couple hard days of driving (Terrence, being an ex-auto racer, drives fast), the Birdz have arrived in ‘The Middle of Nowhere’ Nevada, where they have set up camp and settled down to rest for the big day tomorrow.]
[It’s a pleasant evening as the picture fades in, the sun just starting to dip below the western horizon, casting brilliant streaks of orange across the desert evening sky. Sitting in a lawn chair just outside the RV is a young woman, in her late twenties, with shoulder-length flame-red hair tied behind her in a ponytail, and gentle emerald green eyes. While not exactly a supermodel, she definitely could be considered attractive in that girl next door sort of way. For being in the desert in the middle of summer, she is fairly conservatively dressed, wearing a pale green knee-length summer dress, the straps just wide enough to cover her shoulders. As would be expected of a lady of modesty, the woman sits cross legged in her chair, a cool, frosty glass of iced tea sitting on the ground beside her.]
[This, of course, is Wendy Briese, ready to shoot her first ever CWC promo. Her four companions have gone out for a nice evening walk, giving Wendy some much needed time alone to gather her thoughts for tomorrow. Wendy opens her mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. Finally, after a few seconds of deliberation, she sighs, and gives a small smile to the camera.]
Wendy: “You have to forgive me if I seem a little jittery. I always get a little nervous before my first match.”
[To be fair, she gets nervous before pretty much EVERY match. When you’re a 130 lb girl in the business of routinely fighting guys twice your weight, nerves tend to come with the territory. Never has affected her performance in the ring, however.]
Wendy: “You’d think after five years in this business, I’d have gotten used to it. But making a positive first impression is so very important in this industry. Perform well, and you can immediately establish yourself as a commodity, quickly moving yourself towards the top of the cards and the big matches every wrestler dreams of competing in. But underwhelm, and you get relegated to filler- or, even worse, finding yourself released.”
[Wendy takes a deep breath, again trying to focus her thoughts. Finally, she flashes a smile at the camera.]
Wendy: “I’m sure there’s a few of you who know of me, but for those of you who don’t, my name is Wendy Briese-Thompson. I began wrestling in late 2001 with my then boyfriend Terrence, forming a tag team known as the WhirlyBirdz. I won’t lie, I’m never going to go down in history as the most dominating wrestler of all time, but I’m very proud of what I have been able to accomplish, both in singles and in tag teams, and I’m looking forward to the opportunities I have in the future.”
[Wendy pauses for just a second, taking a sip of her iced tea, and brushes a few stray strands of her hair from her face.]
Wendy: “Terrence and I retired in late 2005, to get married and raise a family. We have a wonderful four-year old daughter, Theresa, who is the light of my life. I won’t get into why Terrence and I returned to the ring this past April, but other than the circumstances surrounding it, I don’t regret it in the slightest. One of best parts about our return to wrestling is that I have the opportunity to take my daughter around the country, and show her all kinds of wonderful places. And Theresa’s a smart, tough girl. If I didn’t think she could handle being on the road, watching her parents compete, I would return to retirement in a heartbeat.”
[As she continues to talk, Wendy’s nervousness seems to abate, as in merely having a chance to talk about herself, and her upcoming match, has calmed her nerves somewhat. By this point, she seems considerably more relaxed.]
Wendy: “I’m excited that I was invited to participate in the Council’s InFamy show. Most of my career was spent in the now-defunct WFWA interfed, and the challenges and opportunities that came with being in an interfed was one of the most appealing aspects of this business. It’s always an honor to represent your home organization and do them proud, and I hope to represent the PWX here as well as I have my other companies in the past.”
[Wendy pauses for just a second, smiling in reminiscence at the glories she once held in the old WFWA. Its a bittersweet memory, considering she returned to wrestling in an attempt to help save the alliance, only for it to die just a few months later.]
Wendy: “I’m glad to see the Council fully intends to have newcomers hit the ground running here. I think a ‘triple threat’ is one of the most challenging matches in all of wrestling to win. In a one-on-one situation, once you get your opponent down, there is no one to stop you. And with more wrestlers involved- there’s always a chance that your other opponents may be too distracted with each other to stop you when you make a cover. But with just three in the ring- there’s someone to stop you, and there is no distraction. You factor in that I’m facing two very talented individuals in Bob Pooler and Jared Black, and I’m definitely going to have to earn my win.”
[Wendy grins ever-so slightly. She always likes a good challenge, and she sees it in this contest.]
Wendy: “Finding information on Bob Pooler was a tough task. I know he’s from Montreal, and he competed in the Ascension tournament back in February. But the company he represented, the UCWA, seems to have left the Council a few months ago. And even there, Pooler seems to have taken a leave of absence. Even so, from what I was able to gather, he was highly regarded. He’s a member of the UCWA Hall of Fame, and a former World Champion, so obviously he’s a dangerous opponent.”
[A slight pause, as Wendy takes another sip of her iced tea, then returns to talking.]
Wendy: “Jared Black, on the other hand, is much easier to scout, as he competes for PrYde Wrestling. Like me, Jared is making his CWC debut, so I’m sure he’s as anxious to get in the ring and compete as I am. Jared is a two-time and current PrYde Evolution Champion, and has competed for their World Title as well.”
[Small shrug]
Wendy: “In fact, the Jared Black story could almost be viewed as inspirational. Just a few years ago, the man weighed nearly four-hundred pounds! He is now... quite literally, half the man he used to be! That’s honestly amazing. My own manager, Pollaski, weighs over three-hundred himself, and he’s always had frustrations with his inability to lose his own mass. He remarked to me the other day that he was impressed with what Jared managed to accomplish- and he rarely compliments anyone.”
[There were, however, a rather large number of Subway jokes from the ever-sarcastic Pollaski, which annoyed Wendy to no end. Ah well, Jared’s probably heard them all.]
[Wendy’s smile fades, and she gives the camera a similar look to the one she gives Theresa when she catches her stealing cookies.]
Wendy: “So you can imagine how disappointed I felt when I watched a replay of the last Vindication, and I saw Jared driving a steel chair into the head of another man. So much of my respect for Jared disappeared in that one swing, because what honestly did it accomplish? Jared justified it as him showing that he would do anything to retain his title... but a true champion shouldn’t have to resort to ‘anything’. A true champion need only rely on his own abilities, not cheating, weapons or outside interference. From what I read, Jared is better than the man he chose to be that night.”
[Wendy looks down, and shakes her head sadly. Wendy has always considered wrestling to be an athletic competition, and she detests the usage of any weapons, or outside interference, as disgraces to the sport.
Wendy: “As for me...”
[Another shrug.]
Wendy: “I’m good at what I do. My kicks don’t shatter bones, my submissions don’t dislocate joints, and my throws don’t cause the entire arena to shake, but I’m effective nonetheless. What I lack in size and strength, I more than make up for in my speed, my technique, and the fact that I won’t give up until the match ends. In short, while I don’t end careers, I do win matches, and I win them the right way.”
[Wendy tries to say it all matter-of-factly, but a bit of boasting does enter into her voice. Even though she tries hard to hide it, Wendy has an ego like any other professional wrestler, and she’s fairly proud that she’s always proven that one doesn't need to cheat to win.]
Wendy: “I’m looking forward to this match. It may not have all the glitz and glamor of a main event, but for a chance to make that first impression, it’s a wonderful opportunity. Jared is in a federation where women compete against the men, and Pooler was defeated by Tara Michaels in the first round of the Ascencion tournament, so I know neither man is going to overlook me on the basis of my gender. I’m glad for that- I hate being accused of winning matches because of chivalry.”
[A small grimace. She’s faced those accusations too many times for her liking.]
Wendy: “Gentlemen, I will see you both in the ring, Saturday night. Let’s give the fans a match to be proud of, and steal the show. Good luck to the both of you.”
[Wendy nods respectfully towards the camera, then breaks into the cheesy grin she only wears on the rare occasions she attempts to tell a joke.]
[Brace yourself. They’re normally horrendous.]
Wendy: “And may the best WOMAN win.”
[And fade]
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