EPISODE 51: Dust in the Wi... Hutch

Saturday October 9, 2010
The Nest- Formal Dining Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
1:59 PM Local Time

Wendy Briese coughed at the dustcloud that had been kicked up as she opened the hutch, waving away the airborne particles lest she breathe them in. How long had it been since she cleaned this thing? Too long, obviously. For a second, she debated about grabbing an old rag and using it to cover her mouth, lest she breathe in the dust, but she was behind enough already today.

Still, Wendy mused as she sprayed the shelvings of the ornate wooden cabinet with a liberal dose of Pledge, cleaning had been going very well. Wendy prided herself on her housekeeping, but considering her grandmother had worked as a maid in Belfast for many years, she knew Nana had a critical eye about everything, and she intended to make the house as beautiful as she could. So when she wasn’t training for her upcoming match against Jenna Himmler, or spending some quality time with her daughter, Wendy had devoted pretty much every waking hour to the enormous task preparing for company entailed.

Wendy was too engrossed in her task that she initially failed to notice her daughter bounding into the room. Theresa stared at her mother, curious as to what the young redhead might be doing. Realizing she wasn’t going to be getting an answer any time soon, Theresa’s attention turned towards the stack of china plates and other valuable dishes sitting on the dining room table. Theresa grabbed a porcelain teapot, staring in wonder at the ornate flowery designs covering every inch of its surface.

Some sixth sense alerted Wendy to another presence in the room, and Wendy turned around, smiling at her daughter. That smile disappeared almost immediately, and Wendy had to fight down the urge to shriek in dread as she saw the priceless antique in her daughter’s hands. “No...” she said, leaving the rag and the can of Pledge in the hutch, and hurrying to her daughter’s side. “Please don’t touch ANYTHING, hon” Wendy begged her daughter as she delicately removed the teapot from her grip. “A lot of this stuff is very old and very valuable. And VERY fragile”

“Sorry,” Theresa replied, looking sullen. “Didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Wendy said, carefully setting the teapot on the table, and then turning back to her daughter. Just always ask permission before you touch something, okay?”

Theresa nodded. “Okay,” she said, although she still looked somewhat crestfallen.

Wendy looked at her daughter, and smiled. “You want to help mommy clean the hutch?”

Although Wendy knew full well that within ten years, her daughter would dread a task such as this, the young girl nodded ferociously. Wendy smiled, and walked back over the hutch, grabbing another dustcloth and spraying some pledge on it. “Here, you can wipe down the outside, as high as you can reach, while I do the rest. Okay?”

Theresa noddd with excitement, and took the cloth. “Mmm! It smells like lemons!” she said.

“It does, but don’t breathe it in,” Wendy warned. “The vapors aren’t good for you. Just wipe down the wood, like this, okay?” Wendy demonstrated, and Theresa went to work on the bottom of the hutch, mimicking her mother.

“Well, aren’t you two having fun?” a male voice behind her surprised Wendy, who wheeled around. When she saw it was just her manager, Wendy exhaled. Pollaski grinned at her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you.”

Theresa gave a shriek of joy, and ran to Pollaski, who knelt down, and gave her a quick hug.

“What are you doing here?” Wendy asked, not unkindly. By this point, Pollaski pretty much came and went as he chose during the day, and was more than welcome to enter the Nest without bothering to knock. “I thought you were on your way to the airport”

“You’re leaving?” Theresa asked, disappointed, before Pollaski could even respond.

“I am,” he confessed, although he smiled as he did so. “But just for a couple days. I gotta go to Los Angeles to compete in CPW. Your mommy and daddy are picking me up from the airport in Chicago on Monday, so I’ll see you then.”

“Don’t we come with you?” Theresa asked.

“Not this time,” Wendy said in a consoling tone. “We have too much to do around here. Pollaski’s on his own.”

“I’ll be fine,” Pollaski promised her, waving a hand dismissively. He turned his attention back to Wendy. “Oh, someone left the ladder out, I put it away for you.”

“Thanks,” Wendy said, although she rolled her eyes as she did so. “Figures Terrence would leave that out. If he’s done cleaning out the gutters, he’ll be clearing out under the back deck, if you want to say goodbye.”

“Thanks,” Pollaski said.

“Good luck against Aoraki,” Wendy said, smiling, and turning to head back to her task.

“Thanks,” Pollaski repeated. “And just in case he DOES break every bone in my body like a meat-grinder,” he said, winking at Theresa to let her know he was kidding, “good luck against Himmler.”

Wendy’s expression hardened for just a second, then softened as she looked away. “She’s tough,” she finally said. “If she’s even better this time around... I could have my hands full.”

“Bah, you can take her,” Pollaski replied reassuringly. “Its a big match, and you shine in those. Just remember- you lose, and Terrence is probably forced into a ten thousand flaming sandpaper thumbtack legos on a pole glass cage of death match. Or something.”

“Thanks, Dan,” Wendy responded, shooting her manager an annoyed look.

Pollaski grinned back. “Just sayin’. We’ll both be fine. I’ll see you on Monday. What we say, Theresa?”

“POLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.....” Theresa began, but before she could finish the phone rang. Wendy quicky picked up the cordless receiver she had set on the dining room table, and looked at the caller ID.

“It’s Terrence...” she said, sounding confused. She flipped the phone on, and held it up to her ear. “Terry where are-”

Wendy cringed, and pulled the phone away from her ear, as if it was suddenly hurting her. Even from several feet away, Pollaski could hear a male voice screaming over the earpiece.

Wendy stared at Pollaski, and the portly manager wasn’t entirely certain if she was about to laugh or cry. “Did... did you make sure he still wasn’t on the roof when you put the ladder away?”

“I didn’t see him,” Pollaski shrugged. “But I didn’t exactly walk around the entire house either.”

“Perhaps you should have,” Wendy replied, turning pale.

There was a long pause, where the only sound that could be heard was the continued screaming of Terrence over the phone, along with a few loud thuds coming from over their heads. Wendy, Pollaski, and Theresa all looked at the dining room ceiling, where the hanging light fixture was beginning to sway back and forth.

“I’ll... um... go get him down.” Pollaski said meekly.

“Please,” Wendy agreed, as her manager turned and sprinted towards the front door of the house.

========================================
Saturday October 9, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
7:19 PM Local Time


[So the main event of Never Say Die IV will be a Pollaski Pinata on a Pole match.]

[Nobody’s exactly sure what the hell that is, but Terrence has vowed on all that is holy that will be the match should Wendy defeat Jenna Himmler at the next Adrenaline. Near as anyone can tell, it involves hanging Daniel Pollaski from a pole and beating him with a very large stick, something Terrence is no doubt keen to do at the present moment]

[Anyways, Wendy found the whole ladder incident slightly amusing (save for being screamed at by her husband- something he later apologized for), and chalked it up to just another misadventure to be had when preparing for company.]

[So we now cut to the living room of the Nest, where Wendy is sitting on the couch. Not wanting to cut her promo wearing cleaning clothes, Wendy has changed into a much nicer long dark green skirt, along with a white blouse. As usual, Wendy’s sitting stiff as a board, as prim and proper as she could possibly be.]

“Well, I suppose everyone knew this was going to happen sooner or later.”

[Wendy slouches her shoulders just a bit, but ]

“Almost two months ago, at Adrenaline 42, I faced a young rookie in just her second match by the name of Jenna Himmler. While most of the so-called ‘experts’ predicted an easy win for me, I had a feeling that despite her inexperience, I would be in for one rough battle. Unfortunately for the nerve endings in my body, I was proven right, and we fought to a tremendous contest that left me battered and bruised, but ultimately the victor.”

[Wendy smiles ruefully]

“As with most contests that end in a near-upset, rumors of a rematch began almost immediately, but soon after, Jenna was taken off the active roster, feeling she needed more training. Only this past week, she returned to in ring competition, and, as could be predicted, we’ve been chosen to face once again.”

[Wendy nods, and looks away from the camera for just a second, before turning her attention back]

“Its funny, because I hear whisperings that perhaps this time, it is I who’s the underdog. After all, Jenna was just raw talent, while I’m a fully trained experienced wrestler, and yet, she still almost won. Now that she’s gotten more training under her belt, its only logical that she should win this time, right?”

[Wendy sighs, and shakes her head.]

“I suppose its crazy, but I actually feel MORE confident about this match than I did our last meeting.”

[Wendy shrugs, and brushes a stray hair from her face, before resuming]

“I’m sure Jenna’s refined her technique through endless hours of training. I’m sure she can punch and kick harder than ever before, and her knee strikes are flat out devastating. But, near as I can tell, Jenna lacks one key element, the exact same missing element that led her to lose against me the first time.”

[Small pause]

“Discipline.”

[Say what?]

“In the ring, Jenna is driven by pure emotion, namely rage. She attacks with abandon, doing everything in her power to do as much damage to her opponent as quickly as possible. She doesn’t hold back anything, and that makes for an extremely exciting slugfest of a match. But there’s a problem with that mentality- it expends so much energy.”

[Wendy talks calmly, as if she’s lecturing a group of students on the merits of in ring strategy.]

“Fighters such as that end their fights in one of two ways. They either land a devastating blow, and gain the victory, or they tire quickly, until they make a critical mistake, one that can easily be capitalized on to defeat them. And that’s what happened back in August- I was willing to be patient, Jenna wasn’t. And because of that, it was my hand raised at the end. All the training she’s gone through won’t matter if she lets her emotions control her in the ring again.”

[Wendy shrugs, and sighs again.]

“Maybe she has, and maybe I’m wrong. I won’t know until I step in that ring, but I do have a strategy for whichever way Jenna decides to approach it. She wasn’t the only one who learned some pretty tough lessons in that match. I will say one thing for certain- if we lock up, I’ll be watching out for those knees.”

[Weak smile]

“But whether Jenna decides to turn this into another brawl. or actually decides to compete in a wrestling match, this is a contest I cannot afford to lose. I’m already coming off a tough loss to the Belmonts, a frustrating contest where Jer and Val managed to keep me impotent on the apron for the majority of the match, isolating Ashley Graves and picking up the win. Losing once is tough enough, but with the Belmonts coming up next week, losing two in a row heading into that match would be devastating.”

[Wendy shakes her head, disgusted with herself and her inability to help her partner a couple weeks ago]

“And then there’s the stipulation of this match- the winner’s significant other will get to pick the match type at Never Say Die. A tremendous advantage to be sure, and one I would love Terrence to have. But even more important than allowing Terrence to pick the match, is NOT allowing Ojeda to pick the match.”

[The fire in Wendy’s emerald eyes kindles just a bit, although Wendy’s voice remains mild]

“Unless JPO has a surprise up his sleeve, Never Say Die will mark Terry’s first defense of his Grand Prix Championship- a title that hasn’t been successfully defended in an actual match since the World and Next Generation titles were merged at Full Throttle. I’m not going to let John Ojeda turn this match into a mockery with one of his stupid death match gimmicks.”

[Wendy’s eyes blaze even more intensely. It’s obvious that John Ojeda’s about the last man on Earth she ever would want to see holding the GP title.]

“As far as Jenna goes, the dislike is mutual. I don’t like what she stands for, and I most certainly don’t like her attitude. I’ve said it before, but it’s a shame, because the raw talent she possesses is remarkable. But her attitude will always keep her from being the best she can be. Jenna can hate me all she wants for saying that, but deep down, she knows its true.”

[A sad sigh]

“But she’ll never change. The hatred in her heart is too much, and one day, it’ll probably get her into something worse than a loss in a wrestling match. But it’s not any of my business, I guess. I just need to focus on the task before me. But after Jenna’s comment at the last PWX show about her need to prove that her family was just as ruthless as it was in the nineteen thirties, I got to thinking.”

[Pause]

“Seventy years ago, the Third Reich was the scourge of Europe, terrorizing half a world with their effeciency and brutality. And now its ‘legacy’ is a deranged foul-mouthed brawler who is little more than a mistress for a two-bit biker thug.”

[Wendy sighs one more time, before cracking a small smile that has neither mirth nor humor behind it.]

“Considering all it ever had been was a bunch of deranged thugs, it’s awfully fitting.”

[Fade]

EPISODE 50: Homecoming

Thursday October 7, 2010

Terrence’s Charger

Streets of Indianapolis, Indiana

1:31 PM Local Time

“Almost home!” Terrence Thompson announced to his wife as he pulled into the Pike Creek subdivision.

Stretching lazily from the passenger’s seat, Wendy Briese looked out the window, stifling a yawn as the familiar surroundings of the neighborhood flashed by the car. “I had a great time this week, Terry.”

“As did I,” Terrence replied, stifling a yawn himself as his blood-red 1971 Dodge Charger rolled down the quiet residential avenue. “It was just like being on our honeymoon in Hawai’i again.”

“Only the volcano wasn’t erupting” Wendy replied with a grin, and Terrence chuckled. “It was nice to get away from it all for a week though, and celebrate our anniversary. We’ve been so busy, and we’re going to be again.”

Terrence nodded as he turned the car onto Wabash Circle. With Wendy’s grandmother’s arrival now just a week away, Wendy’s father’s parole hearing, not to mention the inevitable defenses of the two titles he held, they were going to be booked solid all the way until damned near Thanksgiving. At least they were now ready to tackle the future with a fully charged battery.

“Well, the house is still standing,” Wendy remarked as the Charger pulled into the Nest’s Driveway. Terrence threw the car into park and shut off the engine.

For several seconds, neither Bird moved, just sitting in the car, staring at the garage door. Finally, Terrence looked over at his wife. “Back to reality,” he said with a rueful smile.

Wendy nodded, and unbuckled her seat belt, climbing out of the car while Terrence did likewise. Stretching their muscles from having been cramped in the car for the past four hours, the duo slowly walked towards the front door of the house.

“We can unload the car later,” Terrence reasoned, and Wendy didn’t argue.

Stepping onto the porch, Terrence grabbed the handle, and the front door swung inward. “We’re ho-”

*WHAM!*

Terrence’s announcement was cut short by a gray blur running out of the living room, and ramming headfirst into the wall. Wendy bleated in shock, and both Birdz stared dumbfounded as Chaunticleer, Wendy’s cat, shook its head, dazed. Regaining some of its wits, Chant sprung away, sprinting back into the living room.

The Birdz exchanged bewildered glances. Terrence looked more confused, while there was a definite tinge of alarm about Wendy’s eyes. “What did he do to my cat?” she whispered.

Terrence shrugged, and shut the door behind his wife. Together, the two walked towards the living room, where they could hear their daughter laughing. They rounded the corner, and saw Pollaski and Theresa sitting on the couch. Pollaski had a laser pointer in his hand, which he was moving quickly around the room, while Chaunticleer chased the red dot with reckless abandon. Obviously, it had been this chase that had sent the cat careening into the wall merely seconds ago.

Theresa’s laughter turned into a scream of excitement as she saw her parents, and the four year old sprung from the couch, crying “Mommy! Daddy!” all the way across the room, nearly tripping over Chant as she did so. Upon reaching her father, Terrence lifted her up, and bounced her gently in his arms while Theresa wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly. “I missed you!’

“We missed you too, Theresa,” Terrence said, as his daughter released her hug. Terrence passed her off to Wendy, who hugged her close and kissed her on the cheek, while her daughter returned the embrace. “Did you have fun with Pollaski?”

“Yep!” was all the little girl replied, and smiling, Wendy set her down. She turned a reproachful gaze upon her manager.

“Did you just spend the entire week torturing my cat?”

“Of course not,” Pollaski replied dismissively, setting the laser pointer down on a nearby end table. “We played some games, did a few puzzles. Went down to the park a couple of times. It was a fun week. How was yours?”

“Amazing,” Wendy said, her stern expression softening. “We had a wonderful time out in the hills. With the leaves changing, its such a beautiful time down there.”

As she talked, Wendy walked over to the sofa, smoothing out her long black skirt before sitting down, while Theresa bounded up next to her. Terrence plopped into the recliner. “So, how was Adrenaline?”

“Eh, ended up not going. Figured it’d be just as good from home without you guys there, and save the three hour drive. Decent show.”

“Anything new?” Wendy asked as she tousled her daughter’s hair.

“Lot’s, actually. You’re facing the Belmonts in two weeks for the tag belts, although Val’s hurt.”

“Really?” Wendy asked, both suddenly surprised and concerned.

“Yeah, some idiot over in Phoneix Revolution cracked her over the head with some brass knuckles. She’ll probably be fine by your match, although she did lose to that new guy- Dominick Bent. Oh, and you’re facing Ojeda at Never Say Die.”

“Bah, figures,” Terrence said, rolling his eyes. “Idiot’s due for a shot, and I figure after whacking me over the head with a microphone, JPO figured it’d be the perfect setup.”

“Sounds like it,” Pollaski continued, with the air of a newscaster reading the evening report, hopping from one news story to the next. “So, for THIS week, Wendy’s got Jenna Himmler, and that’s going to determine which side gets to choose the match type for the showdown.”

Wendy nodded silently, although there was a mixture of excitement and apprehension in her eyes. “Jenna’s been training hard, I’m told.” she said, “It’ll be interesting to see how she’s improved.”

Terrence nodded, then shrugged. “Anything for me?”

“Yeah,” Pollaski replied. “You got Victor Jace, non-title. While you were gone, Vicky started dropping subtle hints about how he’s earned the right to face you. Y’know, now that he holds the number three belt in the promotion, or something.”

“Oh? I didn’t think subtletly was Jace’s strong point.” Terrence chuckled.

“Well, it wasn’t really subtle. It was more along the lines of ‘Please let me face Thompson! Please pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!’” Pollaski mimicked, clasping his hands in front of him in a plaintive gesture. “Anyways, JPO was impressed with his first round match against Antonio Lopez, so he gave you to him.”

“Fine by me,” Terrence said. “Anything has to be better than James Silkk, right?”

Both Pollaski and Terrence shuddered, remembering Terrence’s match from two weeks ago, when Terrence had trouble putting a patsy like Silkk away, in what was clearly his worst performance in several months. He couldn’t afford to have a bad one like that again.

Finally, Terrence stood up, out of his recliner. “Okay, time to unload the car,” he announced, as Pollaski and Wendy both grudgingly got to their feet as well. Stretching muscles that had gotten stiff from sitting around and talking so long, the three trudged outside the front door.

Back to reality.

===============================

Saturday October 9, 2010

The Nest- Living Room

Indianapolis, Indiana

5:10 PM Local Time

[It just absolutely sucks coming back from vacation, doesn’t it?]

[Sure, you’re glad to be home, but dear God, the unpacking, the laundry. The realization that somehow a cheeseburger you bought on the drive out got wedged under the passenger seat, and is now green and fluffy. Kinda like a zombie bunny, but worse-smelling.]

[Nonetheless, its been a couple days since the Birdz returned to the Nest, and they’re once again settled in. Good thing too, with the extremely difficult schedule they have coming up, not to mention the arrival of Wendy’s grandmother in less than a week. Needless to say, between training and cleaning, the Birdz have definitely been busy little bees since they got home.]

[Luckily, training’s been going well, primarily to the fact that Terrence and Wendy managed to get a few good... *cough* ‘sparring matches’ in during their vacation. As far as cleaning goes... well, that’s a story for another day.]

[So now we cut to the living room of the Nest, where Terrence Thompson is sitting on the couch, unwinding from a long days work and ready to cut his first promo in nearly two weeks. The Mechanical Mayhem looks fairly at ease, wearing a dark blue Indiana Pacers t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. He’s leaned back on the couch, one arm at his side, the other slung on top of the armrest. That soft smirk he always wears is present, although his demeanor almost suggests a mixture of amusement and irritation.]

“Where, oh where, do I begin?”

[Terrence chuckles helplessly, then shrugs. He holds up his right hand, the index finger extended]

“One week. One week I’m gone on a vacation, and I come back to find half the company wants my head on a platter. Both Ojeda and Jeremiah Belmont have announced their intentions to challenge for my Grand Prix Championship. The Belmont’s have been granted their long-awaited chance to reclaim the tag titles, and Pride & Honor and Global Revolution are gearing up to see who gets the next shot after that. And that’s just the people I know about.”

[A brief pause, before Terrence shrugs again]

“I almost feel like sticking one of those ‘take-a-number’ dispensers on our locker room door, just so I can kick everybody’s ass in a fair, orderly, fashion.”

[Cheesy grin]

“Regardless, it looks like I’m in for a hell of a month. Ojeda will challenge at Never Say Die, in a match that will ultimately be of my choosing. The Belmonts challenge next week, so we can put an end to seven months of their whining. Beyond that, how many people are lining up, hoping for a shot at Terrence Thompson, Wendy Briese, and their titles?”

[Terrence snorts, and smiles]

“But does anyone honestly believe that I’m going to cower behind my castle walls as the forces of my enemies amass outside my gates? Screw that! I’ll go forth each and every time, and repel them from my castle, and my treasures.”

[Terrence grins as he thrusts his arm forward, as if he’s driving an invisible sword through the belly of an imaginary opponent]

“Already the vangard has set forth against me, I heard that during my absence, Victor Jace demanded to face me in a match, and after his performance against Lopez in the quarterfinals of the Future Legends Cup, he was granted his wish.”

[Terrence holds his arms out at his sides, palms facing up, and cocks his head to the side. Its an inquisitive gesture, but one that certainly carries a challenge to it.]

“Well, Jace, you asked for the Twister, and you got him. Now what?”

[Terrence lets the question linger in the air for just a second, berfore returning to his normal relaxed pose.]

“You weren’t exactly a humble man to begin with, but ever since that Civil War, your head has inflated to the point where its almost a surprise that you don’t just float away. And going on the shit you keep starting backstage, I’m sure there’s quite a few people in this company who actually wouldn’t mind that happening.”

[Small shrug. Terrence isn’t exactly one of em, but he can definitely see where a few people would be less than pleased with the Jace man.]

“Me? I’d just be content to know what the hell you’re smoking. Just in case I’m ever overcome by the desire to turn myself into a delusional douchebag.”

[Small smile]

“See, Victor, there’s a LOT you need to learn about this business. You’ve been in a few good matches, and you even won a couple of them. You’ve gotten the Evolution Championship around your waist. Hell, my manager’s even gone so far as to rank you fourth in his power rankings, behind me, Jeremiah, and the recently departed Willett.”

[Terrence gives a quick nod of respect, although he doesn’t seem overly reverent about it]

“But you gotta put your success in perspective. You have every right to be proud of your Evolution Championship, but when you go around proclaiming your belt more prestigious than the Grand Prix title on the basis of... of what, actually? That there hasn’t been a repeat champion yet? Well, that makes you look like an idiot.”

[Terrence can do aught but chuckle helplessly, and shake his head in amazement.]

“You want to know why there hasn’t been a repeat Evolution Champion, Victor? Because its a stepping-stone title. That belt around your waist is designed for the up and comers, to give them a chance to show what they can do when the spotlight is on them. Hence the name- the people who earn that belt will one day further the Evolution of PWX.”

[Terrence reaches over, off screen, and picks something up off the couch, and holds it up for the camera. Predictably, it is the Grand Prix Championship, which Terrence displays proudly to the camera, before putting it in his lap.]

“Inside this company Jace, there is nothing higher than the prize I hold in my hand right now. You lose this belt, there’s no moving on to the next level. You want it back. Why do you think that both of the men who held this belt before me worked so damn hard to get it back? Why do you think Jeremiah Belmont gnashes his teeth every time he sees me walking around with- as he says- ‘his’ title?”

[Terrence pats the faceplate of the belt lovingly]

“Its because this is the goal of everyone in this company. But you really know that right? That’s why you wanted to face me so badly- because you’re not satisfied with what you have. You’re hungry, and you want more. That’s good.”

[Another nod of respect.]

“But for God’s sakes man, just be honest about it. All this bullshit, about how you’re guarding me from the rest of PWX, or how you have JPO in the palm of your hand. Or all the other nonsensical crap you uttered over the past couple of weeks- it makes nobody take you seriously.”

[Terrence rolls his eyes, as if he already can hear Jace’s obvious rebuttal]

“Yeah, I know. If I don’t take you seriously, I’ll overlook you and you’ll beat me. Not gonna happen. I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about the fans, and the other wrestlers, and even JPO. Because if the man in charge doesn’t take you seriously?”

[Terrence holds up the belt again]

“You sure as hell don’t get anywhere near this.”

[Terrence sets the belt back on his knees, grimacing slightly. He’s been sitting there a while, and twenty pounds of gold sitting on his legs are starting to make them fall asleep. That’s not a good feeling]

“And nobody believes you’re somehow JPO’s puppet master. If you were, you wouldn’t have thrown a two-week long bitch fit about having to wrestle the week after the Civil War, title match or no.”

[Terrence scratches his light brown hair and shrugs.]

“All that aside, you’re getting one hell of an opportunity here, Jace. My title may not be on the line, but you’re three seconds away from getting your name written on that very short list of credible challengers. Hell, who needs the Evolution title, or the Future Legends Cup, when you can just beat me one on one?”

[Terrence arches an eyebrow, and gives another half-smile]

“Still, its a good thing that you have those fallback plans in place. Because those three seconds are never going to come. All that you’re going to get out of Tuesday’s match is a very valuable lesson.”

[Terrence sits up a little straighter, leaning forward, his eyes staring into the camera.]

“You’re going to learn that there is a very big difference between what you have...

[Terrence holds up the Grand Prix Championship one last time, and unleashes that ever-trademark smirk.]

“... and what I have.”

[Fade]