Friday November 5, 2010
The Nest- Foyer
Indianapolis, Indiana
4:51 PM Local Time
“Hey-yo!” Daniel Pollaski announced as he shut the Nest’s front door, and stomped his feet on the entrance rug. “Anyone home?”
“I’m in the kitchen!” he heard a feminine voice call out.
Even though Pollaski knew the Nest like the back of his hand, if there was ever a room in a house the chubby Pollaski could find, it was certainly the kitchen. He walked in to see Wendy alone, working on cutting up some Granny Smith apples to dip in the freshly melted caramel she had just made. “Oh, jackpot!”
“My favorite autumn treat,” Wendy said, smiling, then swatting Pollaski’s hand away as he made a grab at a slice. “Wait until they’re done, and we can all have some. I’ve been wondering where Theresa gets her impulsiveness from.”
“Oh, sure, blame the fat guy. What the hell, we’re easy targets,” Pollaski muttered half-jokingly, rolling his eyes as he did. He paused. “Why’s your couch sitting out on the curb?” he suddenly asked, pointing over his shoulder in the general direction of the front of the house.
“Goodwill’s picking it up tomorrow, and we’re getting a new one.” Wendy said quietly. “We just can’t bring ourselves to sit in that one after...” she trailed off, and suddenly redoubled her focus on slicing her apples.
“After we walked in on Terrence’s uncle and your grandmother doing the horizontal mambo on it?” Pollaski finished for her.
Wendy paused again in her apple cutting, glaring at her manager, and biting her lip as she did so. Pollaski had a sudden realization that after all she had gone through over the past week, maybe pissing her off while she was holding a knife wasn’t such a good idea.
Instead, Wendy simply sighed, and turned her attention back to the apples. “Why are you here, Pollaski?” she demanded quietly.
“Oh, right,” Pollaski said, taking an envelope out of his pocket and presenting it to Wendy. “Paycheck, and the revised card for next week. Lopez had personal business to attend, so your match got changed.”
Wendy set aside her check on the counter, not even bothering to open it- she knew well enough that with her loss at Never Say Die, the bonus would be significantly lower than she had been accustomed to. Still, it wasn’t like she and her family were anywhere close to starving. Instead, she opened the sheet of paper within, scanning the contents.”
“Who’s Tweeder?” Wendy asked.
“New guy,” Pollaski explained. “Came over from One World Coalition after they went belly-up.” He snickered. “Let’s hope he’s better than the LAST OWC refugees who came over.”
“Who’s that?” Wendy asked, trying to recollect.
“The Brother’s of the Will.” Pollaski replied simply.
Wendy cringed at the name. “Anyone would have to be better than them,” she said, shaking her head.
Her manager chuckled at the barb, and reached into his other pocket, pulling out a small USB drive. “Here, I got everything I could find on him I could. Most of it’s from Carnage Wrestling, some idiot nuked the old OWC site.”
“Carnage Wrestling?” Wendy scoffed. “Sounds like a pleasant place.” She looked down at the flashdrive, and set it next to her paycheck. “Thanks, Dan. Though... Tweeder? It sounds like...”
“Yeah, I know.” Pollaski snickered. “But I’ll warn ya. He sure as hell doesn’t keep his promos under a hundred forty characters. Or words. Or minutes, come to think of it.”
“Oh?” Wendy asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Let’s just say that Tweeder’s the kind of guy who likes to listen to himself talk, and leave it at that,” Pollaski said, grinning.
Wendy smiled, and opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off as the doorbell rang. Wendy and Pollaski exchanged glances, and Wendy headed to answer the door, Pollaski following behind.
Wendy froze the moment she opened the door, and saw her grandmother standing on the porch. Normally stern, and definitely overbearing, Constance O’Reilly looked as nervous as Wendy had ever seen her before. After glancing over her shoulder, as if looking for an escape route, she turned her attention back to her grandaughter. “May I come in?”
“Of.. of course,” Wendy stammered, stepping aside to let her in. Constance slowly hobbled past her, leaning on her cane as she did. Both women paused, and looked pointedly at Pollaski, who immediately got the hint.
“Terrence?”
“Garage,” Wendy replied, and Pollaski quickly walked off to look for his other client and best friend.
After Pollaski left, Wendy turned to her grandmother. “Maybe we should sit down,” she said.
“Of course, but why is your couch outsi...” Constance began, her Irish brogue cutting off as her eyes went wide in realization. “Oh...” she said, her gaze downcast.
“Dining room table?” Wendy offered, and Constance hastily agreed.
“I heard both you and Terrence lost at Never Say Die,” Constance said quietly. “I’m... sorry to hear that.”
Wendy nodded somberly. “It happens,” she said quietly.
“It wasn’t because you were so upset with me, is it?” Constance asked pointedly, looking at Wendy pointedly, but with a definite mixture of guilt.
Wendy sighed, and shook her head. “I had a lot on my mind that night. But I don’t know, Nana. I should have won that... that’s one that’s going to haunt me.” Wendy swallowed hard, and looked to the side. “How was your week with Steve?” Wendy asked, changing the subject.
“It was very pleasant,” Constance replied, although the smile on her face suggested that she was making a huge understatement. “He tries so hard to hide it, but he’s a gentleman at heart, and he knows how to treat a lady with respect.”
Wendy nodded absently. “He’s a good person. He’s been wonderful to Terrence, and this family.”
Constance nodded, but didn’t reply, the forced conversation between the two women dying out completely. Silence reigned over the dining room for several long moments. Finally, Wendy couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m sorry, Nana. I’m sorry I blew up at you on Halloween. I shouldn’t have-”
“No,” Constance interrupted. “It’s me who should be sorry. I had no right to come in and criticize you like I did. Steve told me about how much you valued your career, and how hard you’ve worked at it. And your daughter is a wonderful, wonderful little girl. You’re a good mother, Gwend... Wendy.”
Wendy smiled, tears forming in her eyes at her grandmother’s apology. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I’m going back to Ireland after your father’s parole hearing next week,” Constance said. “Like you, I hope that fiend stays behind bars where he belongs, but if for some reason, he is released, I know it’s going to spoil the end of my trip. I just want you to know right now that I have had a wonderful time here. Thank you so much for keeping me these past few weeks.”
Wendy blinked, taken aback by her grandmother’s rare display of kindness and gratitude. “Thank you, Nana.” she finally said. “It’s been great having you. I hope I can return the favor and come visit Ireland soon.”
Constance smiled. “I hope so too.”
Wendy suddenly rose from her chair, and helped her grandmother to her feet. “Come on, I just made some caramel apple dip.” She grinned mischieviously. “If we’re quick, we can eat it all before Pollaski and Terrence find out.”
Constance nodded in return, the same spark of mischief returning to her eye as well. Leaning on her granddaughter for support, the two women snuck into the kitchen.
==============================
Saturday November 6, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
7:13 PM Local Time
“What a fool I am.”
[With those melancholy words, we fade into a recently remodeled living room inside the Nest. Apparently the ‘relaxed webcam experiment’ didn’t exactly work out to well, so once again, we see Wendy Briese perched on the (brand spankin’ new!) couch. However, she’s not sitting as straight and rigid as she normally does. Instead, there’s a definite slouch about her, her emerald eyes downcast to the floor.]
“Last week, in a bout of arrogance, I had the audacity to give a lecture to my opponent on the choices she had made in her career, from her attitude, all the way down to the people that she ran with. She then proceeded to pin me for the first time in over six months.”
[Wendy laughs bitterly, and shakes her head]
“What a stupid, stupid fool I am.”
[Wendy sighs sadly, and turns her head upwards just a bit, so at least she’s looking somewhat towards the camera now.]
“It’s been a very bitter pill for me to swallow. For the past week, the end of that match has replayed itself countless times in my head. And each time, I discover something else that could have been different. Something else that I could have done better. Something that could have changed the result of that contest into my favor.”
“It’s especially tough to now see that Ashley Graves has been granted a shot to face Johnny Moxie for the Evolution Championship. And now I’m left wondering, could that have been me? Had I beaten Ashley Graves at Never Say Die, would I have finally gotten my first singles title shot in PWX?”
[Another disgusted shake of the head from Wendy. It’s been well known Wendy’s frustration that she kept getting passed over for singles title shots, despite her winning nearly every single week. To find out that she might have actually had a chance at one, and blew it, is almost too much for her to bear]
“But even now, several days removed from Never Say Die. Knowing all the mistakes I made, and the humility that came with suffering a loss like that, I can’t help but offer one final bit of my advice to Ashley.”
[For a second, Wendy pauses. Then she slowly raises her head. No longer does she looks downcast, the defeated victim. The fire has returned into her emerald eyes, and her lips are pursed together.]
“We always will reap what we sow.”
[Wendy’s lips curl into a snarl, and again, she shakes her head in disgust]
“Because, Ashley, the more and more I think about it, the more and more I can’t believe that I actually LOST to someone like you. You, who’s spent most of your time since you arrived in July being the official PWX whipping girl. I don’t know if you’ve really somehow managed to turn a corner, Ashley, or if you just got lucky, but I do know that my loss to you last week is a stain on my reputation that’s going to take a LONG time to wash out.”
[For a second, Wendy’s expression softens, and she looks almost guilty that she would say such things in front of a camera. But then, the memories of Never Say Die come back to her, and her expression hardens even more]
“I suppose that this all makes me sound a little like a sore loser. Well you know what? I am. I DID lose, after all. And I’m most certainly sore. Particularly right here, where you felt the need to kick me after the match was over.”
[As she talks, she gestures to her side, where Ashley Graves had delivered a vicious kick to her ribs after winning the victory]
“See, Ashley, I was prepared to accept my defeat graciously, but when you felt the need to carry on after the bell, and attack me when the match was over, you sowed a very ugly seed in that ground. And that seed has already begun to sprout, because I’ve already gone to JPO and requested a rematch against you at the earliest possible convenience. And I guarantee you Ashley, once the harvest is over, you will think twice about taking liberties with me, or anyone else, ever again.”
[There’s a small, sinister smile on Wendy’s face now, as she thinks about what would just happen once she gets the opportunity to face Ashley Graves ever again. Finally, she shrugs]
“But enough about the past, and the inevitable future. On to this week, where I have either the reward or punishment of playing welcome wagon to a new wrestler. Considering the type of wrestler I’m going to face- I’m assuming this is a punishment.”
“So Tweeder, I see you’re another one of these ‘ultraviolent’ idiots..”
[Wendy rolls her eyes, to the ceiling at the notion of another ‘ultraviolent’ wrestler in PWX.]
“I’m sure you think that you’ll fit right at home in PWX. After all, our new champion is the so called ‘King of the Death Match’. More than a few people have shed blood in that ring, myself included. And we’re just a month removed from one of the sickest, most disgusting matches the wrestling world’s ever had in the Civil War.”
[Which is ironic, because Wendy was actually a participant in that match. She even cracked someone over the head with a sledgehammer. Then again, when you’re pinned down, kissed against your will, then kicked through a plate of glass, it can make someone go a little bit nuts.]
“But therein lies the rub. Pro-Wrestling X has booked more than its fair share of barbaric matches, believe you me. But the heart of this company isn’t found in the Seventh Circle, or Razor Wire Warfare, or any other insane gimmick match. No, what makes PWX tick is the fact that you can tune into any show, and watch any match, and you know you are watching talented individuals giving everything they have in the ring.”
“I think you have the capacity to succeed here, Tweeder. You have a decent technical side to you- I’ve seen that from what little I’ve been able to watch of you. But you’d much rather tote a shopping cart full of weapons down to the ring, and rely on them, than your own natural ability. But remember, PWX is not an anything-goes company. We have rules, we have policies, and if you violate these policies you will be disqualified. That’s not how I want to win a match, and I’m sure that’s not how you want to lose a match, so just do us both a favor, and leave your little toys in the back?”
[Wendy scoffs disdainfully, and shakes her head in disgust]
“Of course I’d be an idiot to assume you’ll heed my advice. You’re yet another fool who takes a look at a one hundred thirty pound girl who won’t cheat or use weapons, and you assume that you have an easy win on your hands. Do you have any idea how many people before you have made that exact same error? I’ve lost count.”
“See, I don’t cheat or use weapons because I don’t need to. My four limbs, my brain, and especially my heart are more than enough to obtain a victory, and they have countless times over, even against so-called ‘ultraviolent types’ such as you. See, contrary to what you might think, I do desire to be the best. And to be the best, you need to get your victories without assistance. Without having to rely on interference, or chairs, or illegal holds. Anyone can get a win by cheating, Tweeder. It’s those who can get that victory by playing by the rules who are the true greats of this sport.”
[Another disdainful laugh from Wendy, and she sits up just a bit straighter, her eyes boring into the camera]
“But go ahead, continue to make incorrect assumptions about me. I’m not half-Irish. Both of my parents are full-blooded Irish through and through, who emigrated to America in the late 1970s. I was born in New York City, and I’m proud of both my heritage, and the country I have been a citizen of my entire life. And as far as getting along with Scots... the woman in PWX that I consider my biggest rival, Valerie Belmont, is from Edinburgh.”
“You know nothing about me, Tweeder, which is odd, because the details of who I am and what I can do aren’t hard to find. I’ve been on pretty much every single Adrenaline from Episode Twenty-Eight onwards. I’m not looking to pull a cheap shot on you, and I’m most certainly not about to be your friend.”
[Wendy pauses, and breaks into an evil smile]
“And I’m most DEFINITELY nothing like Carnage Wrestling’s Kyra Johnson. Given that you gave me the same “I’m not that kind of guy” speech, verbatim, that you did her, I thought maybe you were lumping us in the same group.”
[Its true! http://carnagewrestling.com/central/index.php?topic=102.msg340#msg340 . Turquoise section, last half of the second paragraph. Look familiar?]
“Tweeder, the more and more I think about this match, the more and more I realize how much will be on the line. I knew from the get-go that I needed a win here to bounce back from my humiliation at Never Say Die. I knew from the beginning that I was protecting my place in the PWX pecking order from a newcomer. But now I realize, that not only am I defending my own position here, I’m defending PWX itself.”
[Wendy takes a deep breath, knowing that what she’s about to get into is very personal for her]
“Like I said earlier, PWX is not an ‘ultraviolent’ fed, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let it become one. I’ve seen too many lives ruined because of sadistic scumbags like you who bastardize this sport. I’ve seen boys and girls paralyzed in backyard matches trying to emulate the atrocities people like you committ on each other.. I saw a young man’s career ended when he was chained to a turnbuckle and nearly disembowled with a weed-whacker. I watched as a friend of mine threw himself into barbaric match after barbaric match, until his body had been so destroyed that he felt the only route he could take was to put a gun in his mouth, and pull the trigger.”
[Wendy’s voice wavers the last couple of words, and looks away from the camera, rapidly blinking her eyes. She takes a couple of deep breaths, and composes herself, turning back to the camera]
“On Tuesday Night, Tweeder, I’m going to prove that it’s not me who’s pathetic, its you. If you bring a chair, I will kick it back in your face. If you swing a bat at me, I will dodge it, kick your knees out from under you, and put you in the Banshee. I’m not going to cripple you, I’m not going to ruin your career. I’m just going to go down to the ring,and I’m going to give everything I have to win, just like I do every other week.”
[A cold smile crosses Wendy’s lips, as she leans back on the couch.]
“And I can guarantee, Tweeder, that you don’t have a clue what you’re in for.”
[And fade]
Sunday, November 7, 2010
EPISODE 59: Heartbreak
EPISODE 59: Heartbreak
Tuesday November 2, 2010
Air Canada Centre- WhirlyBirdz’ Locker Room
Toronto, Ontario
11:31 PM Local Time
Wendy Briese-Thompson could only shriek in horror as she watched her husband be driven into the mat with the Reclamation. She had no idea where John Ojeda had gotten such a move from, or how he had managed to caught Terrence with it, but she knew for a fact, as Ojeda covered him, and hooked his leg, that her husband’s Grand Prix Championship reign had just come to an end. She could only watch silently, her hand over her open mouth, as the ref counted to three, and signalled the bell.
As Terrence continued to lie on the mat, John Ojeda had grabbed the title, and raised it high over his head, smirking evilly at the angry fans, as the cage that had surrounded the ring began to rise. Disgusted by Ojeda’s smirking visage, Wendy quickly hit the power button on the television, and sank into a chair.
For just a few seconds, Wendy stared off into space, her expression completely blank. The first thing she thought was how her daughter, who had gone with Cassie up into the stands, would think about what had just happened. It wasn’t often Theresa had to watch either mommy or daddy lose- and now she had seen both fall on the very same night. Wendy shook her head as she visualized the crestfallen expression that was surely on her daughter’s face.
Suddenly, like a tsunami, a wave of emotion washed over her as the events of the week came rushing back to her. Confronting her father. Her fight with her grandmother. Her upset loss to Ashley Graves. And now Terrence losing his championship, the title he had fought so hard for, just like that. Like a dam showing the first signs of a break, a single tear leaked from her eyes, trickling down her cheek. Then Wendy buried her face in her hands as the dam was washed away completely, any sense of control overwhelmed by the sudden tide of emotion that had come pouring out.
How long she sat there, sobbing into her hands, she didn’t know. A small part of her screamed to stop this foolishness, to find her husband, and to make sure he was really okay after the tough fall he had just taken, but the rest of her body wouldn’t respond. She hated herself for it- crying like a little girl in her locker room- what kind of champion did that? But still, there was a part of her that knew she needed this release, to let the floods drain, and empty the emotional reservoir that had simply just become too full.
A hand grasping her shoulder made her jump slightly, and she quickly turned, looking up at her assailant.
Terrence Thompson looked like he had been through a war. The dethroned champion was covered with cuts, scrapes, and bruises, and even the modified racing suit he wore as his ring attire was fairly damaged. There also was a definitive grimace of pain on his face as he tilted his neck downward to look at her. But he was smiling gently at her, and his brown eyes were deep with concern.
“Hey,” was all he said.
“Hey,” Wendy sniffled, as she used her hands to try and wipe her eyes.
“Everything okay?” Terrence asked quietly, the expression of concern still on his face.
Wendy nodded, although she blinked rapidly as she did. She suddenly found herself exhausted, wanting nothing more than to get back to the RV, collapse on the bed, and sleep until the next show. Nevertheless, she forced herself to rise from her chair, and throw her arms around her husband. She immediately let go, however, when she heard him hiss in pain.
“Are you okay?” Wendy asked, suddenly alarmed.
Terrence nodded. “I will be. Fucker got me good, that’s for sure. Knocked me out. But the medical guys said I don’t have a concussion or anything. Hell, I’m even cleared to compete next week. But I think I’m gonna be a bit sore for the next couple of days.”
Wendy nodded, as Terrence stiffly began to undress from his ring attire. “I’m sorry that you...” she faded off, unable to bring herself to say the word ‘lost.’
But Terrence merely shrugged, and he began grabbing his street clothes out of his duffel bag. “It happens, you know. There’s not too many certainties in this sport, but one is that no one’s ever champion forever. I just wish it hadn’t been so quick.” he finished with a sigh.
“You’ll get a rematch, and you’ll get it back,” Wendy said, although she stopped as a clouded look crossed her husband’s features.
For several seconds, neither Bird spoke, before Terrence finally shook his head. “I don’t know if I want to do that,” he finally said. “At least yet.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Wendy asked, suddenly puzzled.
But Terrence merely shrugged, and slipped his t-shirt over his head. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I was planning on discussing it with both you and Pollaski, but there’s something in my gut telling me that I’d be better off waiting. It that I don’t think I could beat Ojeda, or that I don’t even want the title. It’s just... I really can’t explain it. I’m sorry if it doesn’t make any sense.”
“It doesn’t,” Wendy confirmed.
“Yeah, well, when have I ever made any sense?” Terrence said, grinning at Wendy as he pulled on his jeans. Despite herself, Wendy found herself smiling back, and Terrence ginned wider. “‘Attagirl. Tonight was rotten, sure, but it ain’t the end of the world for us. Hell, we’ve had worst nights than this, even. At least I wasn’t hauled out in a stretcher by some misguided nutjob who wanted you as his girlfriend.”
At the mention of her late friend Rick Logan, Wendy shot a severe look at her husband, who gave her such a ridiculous look of mock-horror that she couldn’t hold it, and burst out laughing. Terrence chuckled along with her.
The locker room door swung open, and both Birdz looked as Pollaski, Cassie, and Theresa walked in Wendy sobered immediately. The expression on her daughter’s face looked identical to what Wendy had visualized earlier. Theresa’s lower lip trembled as she looked from one parent to another.
“You lost! You both lost!” she whispered, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe it.
The disappointment in her daughter’s voice nearly broke Wendy’s heart, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes again. But Terrence, despite the aches and pains racking his body, swept forward, and swept his daughter up in his arms, bouncing her gently.
“That’s just the way it is sometimes, Terr-Bear” the Mechanical Mayhem said. “Every match has a winner and loser. Tonight wasn’t just our night.”
“But you NEVER lose!” Theresa protested, her lower lip still trembling.
Terrence chuckled again, and he tousled Theresa’s hair. “That’s hardly true, Theresa. Wendy and I both have lost a lot of matches in our career. It’s something that happens.
“But...”
But Terrence shook his head, silencing his protesting daughter. “Losing stinks, hon. I didn’t like it either. But you can learn a lot from a loss. We’ll get back to training, we’ll learn from our mistakes, and we’ll come back better than before.”
“So you’ll win next week?”
“I can’t promise you that, hon,” Terrence replied, wincing as he set Theresa back down. “Heck, I don’t even know who I’m facing yet! But I can promise you this, I’m going to try my hardest to, just mommy and I both do every week. In fact, I’ll even try extra-hard, just for you. Deal?”
“Deal!” Theresa said, beaming.
Terrence looked over at his wife, who was smiling at him, although her eyes were shining with tears. He walked forward, and embraced her, ignoring the aches in his muscles as he did so.
“I know you’re tired, hon. But I think what this family needs is to go out for a nice late-night meal, and just have some fun.” he muttered into her ear. “You up for it?”
Wendy nodded. “I’m hungry too. And I think we could all use a pick-me-up.”
Terrence released her, and smiled. “Alright, then let’s grab our stuff, and get out of here.”
==================================
Thursday November 4, 2010
The Nest- Back Deck
Indianapolis, Indiana
5:10 PM Local Time
“Well...”
[Wait for it...]
[Wait for it...]
“Shit.”
[There it is!]
[Despite the Birdz having a nice late night dinner after the show, the drive back to Indianapolis from Toronto was hardly a lively one. The Birdz were more than happy to leave Toronto behind, and head back towards the US of A. However, heading back to the Nest only raises more problems- namely the inevitable reunion of Wendy and her grandmother, which can’t stand to be pleasant in the least.]
[Luckily, the Indiana autumn weather has held up considerably as November came in, so Terrence today has decided that the best place to shoot his promo from is the back deck. Terrence sits in a patio chair, the camera mounted a few feet in front of him, the house serving as a backdrop. Through the glass, Wendy can be seen bustling about the kitchen, putting dishes away.]
[Terrence sits fairly relaxed, like he normally does, and he’s dressed in a navy blue t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. But there’s one thing missing from Terrence’s ensemble that is almost notoriously ever-present- his sardonic smirk. Instead, a lopsided smile, almost of self-deprecation, adorns the Mechanical Mayhem’s face]
“You know, the worst part about the whole thing is that during the weeks leading up to this match, I was approached by so many people. Some I knew... some I didn’t. There were people from all walks of life, casual followers, die-hard fans, hell, even some of my colleagues in the locker room. And every single one of them said the same thing to me.”
“‘For the love of God, please don’t let John Ojeda represent Pro Wrestling X as its champion.’”
[Terrence grimaces, and shakes his head]
“Well, unfortunately, didn’t quite turn out that way.”
[Sigh]
“So I guess to all of you out there who had begged me to keep Ojeda from becoming the number one guy in this company, who had faith that I would be the one to stop him, I’m sorry. Sometimes that’s the way things go, though.”
[It’s obvious that humble pie is hardly Terrence’s favorite desert, but he’s at least taking the disappointment of the loss rather stoically.]
“But you got to hand it to John. He wrestled one hell of a match. He got me, and he got me clean. That belt’s around his waist now, for better or for worse, and its something that I- that we ALL- have to accept.”
“So now comes the sixty-four thousand dollar question. Now that I’ve been deposed as the Grand Prix Champion- will I seek a rematch?”
[There’s a long pause, and Terrence almost looks as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say. But nonetheless, he shakes his head]
“Not quite yet.”
[Another lopsided smile]
“I considered it at first. Obviously the moment you fall off the horse, you want to hop back on. But then, I got to thinking. Never Say Die marked my third straight match where I had a championship of mine on the line. The two weeks before that show, I defended my title against the two top tag teams in this company. Ojeda? He took the week off. With my obligations as tag team champion, I had a week to prepare for Never Say Die. Ojeda had a month.”
[Terrence pauses for just another second, then shrugs]
“You can claim I’m making excuses, and maybe I am, but the fact of the matter is, being a double-champion isn’t an easy feat, especially with the level of competition I was facing. So, for now, I’m going to take the advice of the legendary Frankie Valli, and say ‘Let’s Hang on to What We Got.’ And what we got are the PWX Tag Team Championships.”
[Frankie Valli being the eunuch who, along with The Four Seasons, recorded such wonderful falsetto-shriek hits as “Walk Like a Man”, “December 1963 (Oh What A Night), and, cover your eardrums, “Big Girls Don’t Cry”]
“I will make it very plain to everyone- sometime in the near future, Terrence Thompson is going to be the Grand Prix Champion again, and I’m going to hold that belt for a long time. But right now, I’m going to make sure that I complete cement the WhirlyBirdz as the greatest tag team in PWX history.”
“So Global Revolution is once again the Number One Contenders to our title- so I say, Tuesday night, November 23rd, two days before Thanksgiving, you guys take your shot. In fact, after talking to Wendy about it, we’ve decided that you guys can even pick the match. It’s yours- just please, for the love of God, show some creativity,”
[Which means, please, for the love of God, don’t pick another Shoots and Ladders match. Just... please. One was enough.]
“As for the losers of the number one contenders match, The Belmonts, I’ll tell you guys what. Since you both are so hell bent on just whining about your loss to us a couple weeks ago, Wendy and I will be MORE than happy to shut you guys up again. So, in the likely event that we manage to beat Global Revolution, we’ll extend the same offer to you. You get another chance at us, in a match of your choosing. And you won’t even have to wait seven months for it, too.”
[For the first time all promo, Terrence unleashes his legendary smirk, although it’s somewhat tempered by the less than stellar mood Terrence’s in]
“And as for anyone else in this company, or hell, in the entire world of pro-wrestling, who wants to relieve Wendy and I of our titles, well, the line forms behind the Revolution and the Belmonts. I’d say no cuts, but for God’s sake, we’re all professional wrestlers here. Being orderly has never been exactly any of our strong points.”
[Cheesy grin]
“But enough about the future. I’m mostly a here and now kind of guy, anyways. And the here and now is that I’m coming off of my first loss in five months, to a man I hold absolutely no respect for, a man who now stands atop of the PWX with my Grand Prix Championship. I think it goes without saying that I’m not a very happy camper right now. In fact, right now there isn’t anything I want to do more than to climb back into that ring, and beat the hell out of someobody to remind the world that I might have been downed last week, but there is no way in hell that I’m out.”
“And thus enters Ben Stevens, the new Hybrid Champion, who I face in a non-title match. A good thing too- it’d be absolutely idiotic of me to tell you guys that I’m not going to actively seek a rematch with Ojeda so that I can focus on defending my tag team championships, then turn around and win a lesser singles belt the very next week.”
[Another cheesy grin]
“It’s so easy to overlook a guy like you, Ben, but also such a fatal mistake. Even you would have to admit that youv’e spent better part of the last few months wallowing in the early matches of the show, trading wins and losses against guys like Patrick Flintlock, Austin Starr, and Luke Blue. But just when everyone starts to wonder you’re ever going to get anywhere, WHAM! You beat Victor Jace, when Victor Jace had all the momentum in the world- he was the man of the hour after Civil War. He had just upset Moxie to be the Evolution Champion. Hell, Jace had even managed to survive a match with me without getting pinned.”
[Terrence snorts as if he found something kind of funny, and thinks for just a second. Finally, he shakes his head]
“But scratch that, you didn’t just BEAT Victor Jace, you made the man TAP. You so thoroughly trashed him that Victor Jace hasn’t even been seen in the PWX SINCE! People can talk whuppin’ someone’s ass all they want, but until they actually whip a guy so badly he flees the company... they’re just blowing smoke. Then, Ben, you stun everyone again by beating Jenna Himmler in the first fall at Never Say Die to become the Hybrid champion.”
“I gotta give you credit where its due, Stevens. You’re not a quitter. Given how many times you’ve been so painfully and thoroughly trashed out there in that ring, that you even keep coming back for more says something about you. And you should be proud that your perseverance has finally paid off.”
[Terrence pauses for just a second, and rubs the back of his still sore neck, before continuing to the camera]
“But unfortunately, all that ain’t going to do you a damn bit of good come next Tuesday.”
[Grin]
“See Ben, you might have heart, and you might have guts, but so do I. And I’m going to go out on a limb here, and say that I have quite a bit more talent to boot. But there’s one thing I have that you don’t, that’s going to make all the difference in the world next week.”
[The grin disappears from Terrence’s face, and he sits up straighter in his chair, his brown eyes turning hard.]
“A hell of a lot to prove.”
[Slight grimace]
“I know you know what it’s like to lose a match, Ben. And I know you know what it’s like to lose a title. But when you end up losing a belt you were chasing for six months on your very first defense, well, that’s a pretty damn big blow to take. But to go from losing the Grand Prix Championship to beating the Hybrid Champion in a nontitle match in the span of a week, well, it might not heal the wound, but it’s going to at least stop the bleeding.”
[Figuratively, of course. Terrence literally stopped bleeding sometime around 3 AM WEdnedsay Morning]
“Ben, you seem like a good guy, and I’m glad that you’ll still be the Cinderella Hybrid champion no matter what happens in the outcome of this match. But I’m not going to lose two in a row, not to you, and not to anybody. I may not be ready to actively reseek the Grand Prix Championship, but I want to make it so that the moment I decide to make that title mine again, I’m as close to the damned thing as I can possibly get. And that means that I’m going to continue to tear through everything in my path, just like I did before Never Say Die.”
[Terrrence suddenly breaks into one final smirk. Unlike the previous half-attempts he made earlier in the promo, this is the full on, cocky, sardonic smile that we normally see Terrence Thompson with]
“Even John Ojeda couldn’t stop the Mechanical Mayhem- he just managed to deflect it for the time being. But you, Ben Stevens...”
[Terrence chuckles]
“You’re about to get ran over.”
[Terrence rises from his chair, and turns and heads back into the house, while the scene fades to black]
Tuesday November 2, 2010
Air Canada Centre- WhirlyBirdz’ Locker Room
Toronto, Ontario
11:31 PM Local Time
Wendy Briese-Thompson could only shriek in horror as she watched her husband be driven into the mat with the Reclamation. She had no idea where John Ojeda had gotten such a move from, or how he had managed to caught Terrence with it, but she knew for a fact, as Ojeda covered him, and hooked his leg, that her husband’s Grand Prix Championship reign had just come to an end. She could only watch silently, her hand over her open mouth, as the ref counted to three, and signalled the bell.
As Terrence continued to lie on the mat, John Ojeda had grabbed the title, and raised it high over his head, smirking evilly at the angry fans, as the cage that had surrounded the ring began to rise. Disgusted by Ojeda’s smirking visage, Wendy quickly hit the power button on the television, and sank into a chair.
For just a few seconds, Wendy stared off into space, her expression completely blank. The first thing she thought was how her daughter, who had gone with Cassie up into the stands, would think about what had just happened. It wasn’t often Theresa had to watch either mommy or daddy lose- and now she had seen both fall on the very same night. Wendy shook her head as she visualized the crestfallen expression that was surely on her daughter’s face.
Suddenly, like a tsunami, a wave of emotion washed over her as the events of the week came rushing back to her. Confronting her father. Her fight with her grandmother. Her upset loss to Ashley Graves. And now Terrence losing his championship, the title he had fought so hard for, just like that. Like a dam showing the first signs of a break, a single tear leaked from her eyes, trickling down her cheek. Then Wendy buried her face in her hands as the dam was washed away completely, any sense of control overwhelmed by the sudden tide of emotion that had come pouring out.
How long she sat there, sobbing into her hands, she didn’t know. A small part of her screamed to stop this foolishness, to find her husband, and to make sure he was really okay after the tough fall he had just taken, but the rest of her body wouldn’t respond. She hated herself for it- crying like a little girl in her locker room- what kind of champion did that? But still, there was a part of her that knew she needed this release, to let the floods drain, and empty the emotional reservoir that had simply just become too full.
A hand grasping her shoulder made her jump slightly, and she quickly turned, looking up at her assailant.
Terrence Thompson looked like he had been through a war. The dethroned champion was covered with cuts, scrapes, and bruises, and even the modified racing suit he wore as his ring attire was fairly damaged. There also was a definitive grimace of pain on his face as he tilted his neck downward to look at her. But he was smiling gently at her, and his brown eyes were deep with concern.
“Hey,” was all he said.
“Hey,” Wendy sniffled, as she used her hands to try and wipe her eyes.
“Everything okay?” Terrence asked quietly, the expression of concern still on his face.
Wendy nodded, although she blinked rapidly as she did. She suddenly found herself exhausted, wanting nothing more than to get back to the RV, collapse on the bed, and sleep until the next show. Nevertheless, she forced herself to rise from her chair, and throw her arms around her husband. She immediately let go, however, when she heard him hiss in pain.
“Are you okay?” Wendy asked, suddenly alarmed.
Terrence nodded. “I will be. Fucker got me good, that’s for sure. Knocked me out. But the medical guys said I don’t have a concussion or anything. Hell, I’m even cleared to compete next week. But I think I’m gonna be a bit sore for the next couple of days.”
Wendy nodded, as Terrence stiffly began to undress from his ring attire. “I’m sorry that you...” she faded off, unable to bring herself to say the word ‘lost.’
But Terrence merely shrugged, and he began grabbing his street clothes out of his duffel bag. “It happens, you know. There’s not too many certainties in this sport, but one is that no one’s ever champion forever. I just wish it hadn’t been so quick.” he finished with a sigh.
“You’ll get a rematch, and you’ll get it back,” Wendy said, although she stopped as a clouded look crossed her husband’s features.
For several seconds, neither Bird spoke, before Terrence finally shook his head. “I don’t know if I want to do that,” he finally said. “At least yet.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Wendy asked, suddenly puzzled.
But Terrence merely shrugged, and slipped his t-shirt over his head. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I was planning on discussing it with both you and Pollaski, but there’s something in my gut telling me that I’d be better off waiting. It that I don’t think I could beat Ojeda, or that I don’t even want the title. It’s just... I really can’t explain it. I’m sorry if it doesn’t make any sense.”
“It doesn’t,” Wendy confirmed.
“Yeah, well, when have I ever made any sense?” Terrence said, grinning at Wendy as he pulled on his jeans. Despite herself, Wendy found herself smiling back, and Terrence ginned wider. “‘Attagirl. Tonight was rotten, sure, but it ain’t the end of the world for us. Hell, we’ve had worst nights than this, even. At least I wasn’t hauled out in a stretcher by some misguided nutjob who wanted you as his girlfriend.”
At the mention of her late friend Rick Logan, Wendy shot a severe look at her husband, who gave her such a ridiculous look of mock-horror that she couldn’t hold it, and burst out laughing. Terrence chuckled along with her.
The locker room door swung open, and both Birdz looked as Pollaski, Cassie, and Theresa walked in Wendy sobered immediately. The expression on her daughter’s face looked identical to what Wendy had visualized earlier. Theresa’s lower lip trembled as she looked from one parent to another.
“You lost! You both lost!” she whispered, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe it.
The disappointment in her daughter’s voice nearly broke Wendy’s heart, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes again. But Terrence, despite the aches and pains racking his body, swept forward, and swept his daughter up in his arms, bouncing her gently.
“That’s just the way it is sometimes, Terr-Bear” the Mechanical Mayhem said. “Every match has a winner and loser. Tonight wasn’t just our night.”
“But you NEVER lose!” Theresa protested, her lower lip still trembling.
Terrence chuckled again, and he tousled Theresa’s hair. “That’s hardly true, Theresa. Wendy and I both have lost a lot of matches in our career. It’s something that happens.
“But...”
But Terrence shook his head, silencing his protesting daughter. “Losing stinks, hon. I didn’t like it either. But you can learn a lot from a loss. We’ll get back to training, we’ll learn from our mistakes, and we’ll come back better than before.”
“So you’ll win next week?”
“I can’t promise you that, hon,” Terrence replied, wincing as he set Theresa back down. “Heck, I don’t even know who I’m facing yet! But I can promise you this, I’m going to try my hardest to, just mommy and I both do every week. In fact, I’ll even try extra-hard, just for you. Deal?”
“Deal!” Theresa said, beaming.
Terrence looked over at his wife, who was smiling at him, although her eyes were shining with tears. He walked forward, and embraced her, ignoring the aches in his muscles as he did so.
“I know you’re tired, hon. But I think what this family needs is to go out for a nice late-night meal, and just have some fun.” he muttered into her ear. “You up for it?”
Wendy nodded. “I’m hungry too. And I think we could all use a pick-me-up.”
Terrence released her, and smiled. “Alright, then let’s grab our stuff, and get out of here.”
==================================
Thursday November 4, 2010
The Nest- Back Deck
Indianapolis, Indiana
5:10 PM Local Time
“Well...”
[Wait for it...]
[Wait for it...]
“Shit.”
[There it is!]
[Despite the Birdz having a nice late night dinner after the show, the drive back to Indianapolis from Toronto was hardly a lively one. The Birdz were more than happy to leave Toronto behind, and head back towards the US of A. However, heading back to the Nest only raises more problems- namely the inevitable reunion of Wendy and her grandmother, which can’t stand to be pleasant in the least.]
[Luckily, the Indiana autumn weather has held up considerably as November came in, so Terrence today has decided that the best place to shoot his promo from is the back deck. Terrence sits in a patio chair, the camera mounted a few feet in front of him, the house serving as a backdrop. Through the glass, Wendy can be seen bustling about the kitchen, putting dishes away.]
[Terrence sits fairly relaxed, like he normally does, and he’s dressed in a navy blue t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. But there’s one thing missing from Terrence’s ensemble that is almost notoriously ever-present- his sardonic smirk. Instead, a lopsided smile, almost of self-deprecation, adorns the Mechanical Mayhem’s face]
“You know, the worst part about the whole thing is that during the weeks leading up to this match, I was approached by so many people. Some I knew... some I didn’t. There were people from all walks of life, casual followers, die-hard fans, hell, even some of my colleagues in the locker room. And every single one of them said the same thing to me.”
“‘For the love of God, please don’t let John Ojeda represent Pro Wrestling X as its champion.’”
[Terrence grimaces, and shakes his head]
“Well, unfortunately, didn’t quite turn out that way.”
[Sigh]
“So I guess to all of you out there who had begged me to keep Ojeda from becoming the number one guy in this company, who had faith that I would be the one to stop him, I’m sorry. Sometimes that’s the way things go, though.”
[It’s obvious that humble pie is hardly Terrence’s favorite desert, but he’s at least taking the disappointment of the loss rather stoically.]
“But you got to hand it to John. He wrestled one hell of a match. He got me, and he got me clean. That belt’s around his waist now, for better or for worse, and its something that I- that we ALL- have to accept.”
“So now comes the sixty-four thousand dollar question. Now that I’ve been deposed as the Grand Prix Champion- will I seek a rematch?”
[There’s a long pause, and Terrence almost looks as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say. But nonetheless, he shakes his head]
“Not quite yet.”
[Another lopsided smile]
“I considered it at first. Obviously the moment you fall off the horse, you want to hop back on. But then, I got to thinking. Never Say Die marked my third straight match where I had a championship of mine on the line. The two weeks before that show, I defended my title against the two top tag teams in this company. Ojeda? He took the week off. With my obligations as tag team champion, I had a week to prepare for Never Say Die. Ojeda had a month.”
[Terrence pauses for just another second, then shrugs]
“You can claim I’m making excuses, and maybe I am, but the fact of the matter is, being a double-champion isn’t an easy feat, especially with the level of competition I was facing. So, for now, I’m going to take the advice of the legendary Frankie Valli, and say ‘Let’s Hang on to What We Got.’ And what we got are the PWX Tag Team Championships.”
[Frankie Valli being the eunuch who, along with The Four Seasons, recorded such wonderful falsetto-shriek hits as “Walk Like a Man”, “December 1963 (Oh What A Night), and, cover your eardrums, “Big Girls Don’t Cry”]
“I will make it very plain to everyone- sometime in the near future, Terrence Thompson is going to be the Grand Prix Champion again, and I’m going to hold that belt for a long time. But right now, I’m going to make sure that I complete cement the WhirlyBirdz as the greatest tag team in PWX history.”
“So Global Revolution is once again the Number One Contenders to our title- so I say, Tuesday night, November 23rd, two days before Thanksgiving, you guys take your shot. In fact, after talking to Wendy about it, we’ve decided that you guys can even pick the match. It’s yours- just please, for the love of God, show some creativity,”
[Which means, please, for the love of God, don’t pick another Shoots and Ladders match. Just... please. One was enough.]
“As for the losers of the number one contenders match, The Belmonts, I’ll tell you guys what. Since you both are so hell bent on just whining about your loss to us a couple weeks ago, Wendy and I will be MORE than happy to shut you guys up again. So, in the likely event that we manage to beat Global Revolution, we’ll extend the same offer to you. You get another chance at us, in a match of your choosing. And you won’t even have to wait seven months for it, too.”
[For the first time all promo, Terrence unleashes his legendary smirk, although it’s somewhat tempered by the less than stellar mood Terrence’s in]
“And as for anyone else in this company, or hell, in the entire world of pro-wrestling, who wants to relieve Wendy and I of our titles, well, the line forms behind the Revolution and the Belmonts. I’d say no cuts, but for God’s sake, we’re all professional wrestlers here. Being orderly has never been exactly any of our strong points.”
[Cheesy grin]
“But enough about the future. I’m mostly a here and now kind of guy, anyways. And the here and now is that I’m coming off of my first loss in five months, to a man I hold absolutely no respect for, a man who now stands atop of the PWX with my Grand Prix Championship. I think it goes without saying that I’m not a very happy camper right now. In fact, right now there isn’t anything I want to do more than to climb back into that ring, and beat the hell out of someobody to remind the world that I might have been downed last week, but there is no way in hell that I’m out.”
“And thus enters Ben Stevens, the new Hybrid Champion, who I face in a non-title match. A good thing too- it’d be absolutely idiotic of me to tell you guys that I’m not going to actively seek a rematch with Ojeda so that I can focus on defending my tag team championships, then turn around and win a lesser singles belt the very next week.”
[Another cheesy grin]
“It’s so easy to overlook a guy like you, Ben, but also such a fatal mistake. Even you would have to admit that youv’e spent better part of the last few months wallowing in the early matches of the show, trading wins and losses against guys like Patrick Flintlock, Austin Starr, and Luke Blue. But just when everyone starts to wonder you’re ever going to get anywhere, WHAM! You beat Victor Jace, when Victor Jace had all the momentum in the world- he was the man of the hour after Civil War. He had just upset Moxie to be the Evolution Champion. Hell, Jace had even managed to survive a match with me without getting pinned.”
[Terrence snorts as if he found something kind of funny, and thinks for just a second. Finally, he shakes his head]
“But scratch that, you didn’t just BEAT Victor Jace, you made the man TAP. You so thoroughly trashed him that Victor Jace hasn’t even been seen in the PWX SINCE! People can talk whuppin’ someone’s ass all they want, but until they actually whip a guy so badly he flees the company... they’re just blowing smoke. Then, Ben, you stun everyone again by beating Jenna Himmler in the first fall at Never Say Die to become the Hybrid champion.”
“I gotta give you credit where its due, Stevens. You’re not a quitter. Given how many times you’ve been so painfully and thoroughly trashed out there in that ring, that you even keep coming back for more says something about you. And you should be proud that your perseverance has finally paid off.”
[Terrence pauses for just a second, and rubs the back of his still sore neck, before continuing to the camera]
“But unfortunately, all that ain’t going to do you a damn bit of good come next Tuesday.”
[Grin]
“See Ben, you might have heart, and you might have guts, but so do I. And I’m going to go out on a limb here, and say that I have quite a bit more talent to boot. But there’s one thing I have that you don’t, that’s going to make all the difference in the world next week.”
[The grin disappears from Terrence’s face, and he sits up straighter in his chair, his brown eyes turning hard.]
“A hell of a lot to prove.”
[Slight grimace]
“I know you know what it’s like to lose a match, Ben. And I know you know what it’s like to lose a title. But when you end up losing a belt you were chasing for six months on your very first defense, well, that’s a pretty damn big blow to take. But to go from losing the Grand Prix Championship to beating the Hybrid Champion in a nontitle match in the span of a week, well, it might not heal the wound, but it’s going to at least stop the bleeding.”
[Figuratively, of course. Terrence literally stopped bleeding sometime around 3 AM WEdnedsay Morning]
“Ben, you seem like a good guy, and I’m glad that you’ll still be the Cinderella Hybrid champion no matter what happens in the outcome of this match. But I’m not going to lose two in a row, not to you, and not to anybody. I may not be ready to actively reseek the Grand Prix Championship, but I want to make it so that the moment I decide to make that title mine again, I’m as close to the damned thing as I can possibly get. And that means that I’m going to continue to tear through everything in my path, just like I did before Never Say Die.”
[Terrrence suddenly breaks into one final smirk. Unlike the previous half-attempts he made earlier in the promo, this is the full on, cocky, sardonic smile that we normally see Terrence Thompson with]
“Even John Ojeda couldn’t stop the Mechanical Mayhem- he just managed to deflect it for the time being. But you, Ben Stevens...”
[Terrence chuckles]
“You’re about to get ran over.”
[Terrence rises from his chair, and turns and heads back into the house, while the scene fades to black]
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