Friday January 7, 2011
The Nest- Front Yard
Indianapolis, Indiana
4:07 PM Local Time
Of all the tasks that a homeowner was charged with, I always thought the worst was taking down Christmas lights after the holidays. Maybe it was the sense of finality to another holiday season. Maybe it was the return of ones dwelling from a dazzling array of colors and images to something considerably more mundane. Maybe it was the hours of boring, mindless work packing everything up in boxes, and returning the decorations to storage.
Or maybe it was the foreboding knowledge that in just ten short months, you’d be hauling all this shit out again.
Luckily, I had managed to press my faithful manager (not to mention best friend), into helping me with the packing. Together, we had managed to quickly get all the lights down from the house, and get each strand into its own small grocery bag to keep them from tangling. Currently, these bags littered our lawn, along with various other decorations, giving the impression that the Thompson family was holding a rather sizable post-Christmas yard sale.
I should have known that it was only a matter of time before Pollaski tried to wriggle off the hook.
“Dude,” Pollaski was saying. “I think we’ve done enough for one day. Let’s go inside and play some Black Ops.”
Well, the offer was sure tempting enough. But unfortunately, I could only grimace and shake my head.
“Can’t,” I grumbled. “Neighborhood covenant specifically says that all holiday decorations must be down by January 6th. That’s today, and I promised Wendy that I’d keep the covenant violations to a minimum this year.”
Some time ago, some jackass had come up with the idea of building neighborhoods in which all residents would be required to sign a legally binding contract detailing what they could and couldn’t do on their own property. I think the intent was to keep the property values of the neighborhood up by making sure that none of its dwellings went into disrepair, but in reality, all this so-called ‘covenant’ was good for was giving fascist presidents of the homeowners association the right to stick their noses where they didn’t belong.
Pollaski didn’t seem too impressed with my reasoning, but nevertheless, went back to throwing bags of lights into a Rubbbermaid container quickly filling it and snapping on a lid.
“Well, I guess we’re almost done anyways,” he muttered, looking around at the yard. “Maybe after we finally finish.”
I started to agree- after this mind-numbing bullshit, I’d love to spend an evening running around with a rocket launcher blowing the fuck out of terrorists. But I suddenly remembered something, and could only shake my head.
“Can’t. We’re having company for dinner tonight.”
Pollaski looked over at me curiously, then turned his attention back to filling another Rubbermaid container. “Who’s that?”
I grimaced. “Father McDaniels.”
“Her priest?”
I could only shrug. “I guess it’s customary for parishioners to invite their clergy over for dinner. Besides, Wendy figures that since he lives alone, it’s probably not often he gets a chance to have a home-cooked meal.”
“So instead of top ramen, he gets Wendy’s cooking?” Pollaski snorted. “Not exactly an upgrade.”
“Be nice,” I growled in a warning tone. “Wendy’s spent most the afternoon on this. This is really important for her.” I finished tying the last pair of reindeer together, and hauled them over to the garage. “Besides, she’s making baked salmon. She knows that dish like the back of her hand.”
Pollaski regarded this for a second, then slammed the lid on the tub containing the last of the Christmas lights. “True. Her salmon is pretty good.”
“Well, you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner yourself,” I replied amiably, stepping aside as Pollaski carried the tub to the ever-growing pile of decorations waiting to be put away.
Daniel shrugged. “I might take you up on that.”
“Just promise me that you’ll be on your best behavior. Wendy holds Father McDaniels in high regard, and she’ll kill the both of us if we do anything to offend him.”
I looked around the yard. Most of the decorations were now piled up in front of the garage, where it would be a simple matter of running them up the ladder into the crawlspace above. Only the inflatable decorations (Santa, a snowglobe, and a snowman) and the nativity set remained.
“Let’s do the inflatables first,” I decided, grabbing the empty boxes for the three decorations. I quickly walked around to the corner, and unplugged the extention cord that powered the air compressors. The sight of the figurines suddenly deflating was a depressing sight.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” I said as I came back into the front yard, where Pollaski was already hard at work stuffing Santa into a box. “Wendy thinks I was out of line in our last interview. You know, when I said that we we brought the legitimacy that the CPW lacked?”
“Well, you said it with your typical humility and grace,” my manager chuckled, shooting me a wink. “But, I think to some extent, you’re right. There’s some fine talent in CPW, I know, I’ve faced it. But the biggest names in the company right now belong to the owners. Well, besides Liam and Emma, but they’re related to one of the owners. You’re a huge signing for them, but that’s going to be a double edged sword.”
I had been stuffing the snowglobe into a box, but I stopped at my manager’s words, and looked over at him. “How so?”
“Well, let me put it this way. Before you guys entered, there were three major tag teams, and all three of them had quite a bit of heat between them. Had you entered on a more quiet note, you might have had a chance to where they’d be all so focused on each other, that you’d be able to come out of nowhere and sweep ‘em all up. That little speech you gave put a pretty big target on your backs.”
I grimaced slightly. “So I erred?”
“Perhaps, perhaps not. But all this means now is that you’re certainly not going to be overlooked.” Pollaski said. “The situation’s still the same. Beat the other three teams out to get the pinfall, and you’re the champion. But any team that manages to beat the WhirlyBirdz is going to get instant recognition around the wrestling world.”
I nodded. It made sense, but I wasn’t particularly worried about it. Wendy and I had won as underdogs before, and we’d won as favorites before. It made no difference to us. I finished stuffing the inflatable snowglobe into the box, and closed it up. Pollaski was still struggling with the Santa, but he almost had it.
“So, what’s this place like?” I asked, as I moved over to stuff the final inflatable decoration away.
“What place?”
“CPW.”
Pollaski looked at me, an expression of confusion on his face. “You’ve been to several of the shows with me, dude.”
“Yeah, but I only really paid attention to your match.”
“Your loss, then.” Pollaski said, shrugging.
“Well, I’ve been watching replays of the more recent shows.” I said. “But I wanted to hear what a former roster member thought about it.”
Pollaski pursed his lips, and thought for several seconds. “Backstage, its a good atmosphere. I mean, the fact that there’s an honest to god panda running around the place is bizarre. But the management is decent and fair.”
“Really?” I asked, glancing over at Pollaski again. “Even with all that Pazzini’s doing to Michelle Taylor?”
Dan burst out laughing, and shook his head. “Dude, have you ever MET Michelle Taylor?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Be glad. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more unlikeable person in my life. Trust me when I say that everything Cammy’s doing to her is fully, and completely, and utterly justified.”
Pollaski shuddered, and I vaguely recalled him saying something several months ago about how disgusting it was to face her in a wrestling match. Obviously, bad memories still haunted my manager.
“As far as talent goes, I don’t think its the best fed you’ve ever been in, but its probably better than what PWX had. Belladonna’s weird, but good, and Joey Flash is pretty amazing. I like this upcoming Peyton St. Pierre, and I’ve heard some things about this Faith and Crystal Hilton. And I can tell you firsthand that Aoraki is DAMN good.”
I nodded, shutting the final box, and picked two boxes up, carrying them towards the garage. Pollaski followed with the third. After we had added them to the pile, I turned, and asked my manager the one question I’d been meaning to ask.
“So if you liked CPW that much, why did you quit?”
Pollaski looked at me, and for just a second, I was afraid I had pushed the wrong button. But instead, he merely pursed his lips together, and rubbed his chin, lost deep in thought. Finally, he spoke, slowly at first.
“You know, I think every wrestler has that moment when the question of whether or not they were cut out for this business gets answered. Mine came when Aoraki was trying to castrate me with a billiards ball. I’m not really ashamed of it. I’m a manager, not a wrestler, and a damn good one at that. My place is at ringside.”
It wasn’t often that I saw my manager looking so philosophical, but I couldn’t really dispute what he had said. That match had been his last, before he told me and Wendy that he wouldn’t be making his biweekly trips to Los Angeles anymore.
I looked around the yard. Only the nativity set remained. “So what do you think ours was?” I asked, walking towards the display.
“Your what?”
“Our defining moment.”
Pollaski paused for another few seconds. “Way back, in the EWF. You and Wendy faced that guy... Lupin.. in a handicapped match. And he completely and utterly destroyed you both.”
I looked at my manager in astonishment, with more than just a little irritation. “Dude, that was humiliating.”
Pollaski nodded. “I’d say the low point of your career. I think most people would have given up after that. But you guys didn’t. In fact, after that, you guys didn’t lose a tag team match for six months. That was the moment when you proved you belonged in this business, and demonstrated how much heart both of you had.”
“Thank’s” I said, setting the large plastic light-up figurine of the Virgin Mary down, next to the other pieces of the Nativity. I looked back at the yard. Only the baby Jesus remained. “I got it,” I announced, walking back into the yard.
I reached down, and picked up the figurine, beginning to lift it, but then suddenly dropped it as I felt a sharp pain on my palm. I looked down- some how, a bit of the plastic had cracked, and had sliced my hand all the way across my palm Already, I could see blood welling up in the cut- it was deep. I was probably going to need stitches.
“Son of a BITCH!” I roared. The last thing I needed before this fucking tag match was to be injured!
“Dude, you okay?” I could hear Pollaski’s voice filled with concern off to my left, at the edge of the driveway. I didn’t respond, however. Instead, I did the one thing I could have done to make this situation worse.
Filled with a vindictive rage, I kicked the baby Jesus.
The moment the plastic figurine went airborne, everything seemed to slow down. I could see the baby flying across the yard, into the darkening late afternoon sky. It was honestly a fine kick- David Beckham would have been jealous.
I could also see the dark blue Oldsmobile Cutlass pulling into our driveway, right into the path of the airborne decoration.
I had never seen the car before in my life, but I knew instinctively that the driver behind those tinted windows was none other than Father McDaniels. Wendy’s priest, arriving for a supposedly nice dinner served by one of his parishioners.
I could only watch helplessly as the plastic statue flew into windshield of the car, deflecting off at an odd angle. It bounced off the hood of my Charger, and landed on the driveway, where the plastic had finally taken enough abuse. I could hear the sound of the plastic crackling as the decoration fell apart.
I looked at Pollaski, who’s mouth had fallen open as if a weight had been tied around his lower jaw. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see another figure standing, just in front of our porch. Slowly, dreadfully, I turned to see who it was, even though I knew that it was my wife.
Even in the receding light, I could see that Wendy’s normally pale skin had gone completely white, causing her flame red hair to stand out even more. Her eyes and mouth were both open wide in astonishment, although the expression on her face could only be described as utmost horror. She had seen everything.
Very faintly, I could feel the patter of blood dripping down my hand onto my shoes, but I was too dumbstruck to do anything. Instead, I merely looked back to the car I had just hit, where the door was opening.
Sure enough, Father McDaniel, a slight man with short graying hair in his early seventies, emerged from the car, looking visibly shaken. He looked down at the figure in the driveway, and time seemed to stand still as he came to realize just what had hit his car. I gulped.
Wendy was the first to come to her senses, and she scurried forward towards the priest. “I’m so sorry about this, Father! Please, welcome to our home.. come inside.”
“Yes... thank you,” was all the priest managed to say, as he allowed my wife to lead him towards the front door of my house. Father McDaniels looked at me for just a second, then shook his head and walked on. Wendy opened the door for the priest, who walked inside. Before she followed him. Wendy wheeled around, and I could see that her face was flushed with rage. Nevertheless, when she spoke, it was with that false-sweetness that I knew all to well meant that I was in very deep trouble.
“Terry, please hurry and finish putting away your toys. We have company!”
The last word was more snarled than spoken, and Wendy finally turned around, and entered the house, practically slamming the door behind her. Meanwhile, Pollaski, abandoning the self-restraint he had remarkably shown up to this point, collapsed in the driveway, holding his stomach as he howled in laughter.
Leaving me all alone in the front yard, with blood still freely flowing from the cut in my hand, dripping down to water the front lawn.
Sometimes, life just wasn’t fair.
===========================
Saturday January 8, 2011
The RV- Cockpit
Interstate 70 Near Manhattan, Kansas
11:31 AM Local Time
[Fortunately, sooner or later Pollaski figured out that Terrence was bleeding, and drove his friend for a quick trip to the Doctor, where he received six stitches, and was back in time for dinner. Even more frtunate, the doctor says Terrence’s wound should be shut enough to where it shouldn’t be too big a factor in the upcoming match. Lucky break for the Birdz]
[Even more lucky, Wendy was pretty quick to forgive Terrence for kicking a statue of the Baby Jesus at her priest, once she found out what happened. So luckily this will join the ‘firework malfunction’ and the ‘possum incident’ in the vast history of Thompson family mishaps]
[So now the time has come for the Birdz to hop in their Newmar King Aire RV, and make the long drive to Los Angeles. One of the interesting features of the RV is that Terrence has mounted a camera on the dashboard, so that, should the inspiration arrive, the Birdz can cut a promo even while on the go.]
[That’s where the scene opens, of course. Terrence is driving, his right hand still having a small bandage on it as he grips the steering wheel, although he shows no sign of discomfort as he drives. Wendy sits shotgun, a copy of Time Magazine sitting in her hands, although she’s looking more at the camera than her periodical. Terrence, for his part, keeps his eyes on the road, although he’ll take the occasional glimpse at the camera]
Wendy: “Well, Terrence. We’re just a few hours away from our big Catholic Panda debut, when we have a chance to become the first ever ‘Teaming Panda’ Champions. I’ve definitely been thinking about this match, and I think the strategies required will be considerably different than a normal four-way tag match would provide.
[Terrence doesn’t say anything, but nods in agreement, although his focus suddenly shifts to changing lanes.]
Wendy: “I have to think that with such an unusual match, the team that best understands the nature of these unique rules, has an advantage. Obviously, this match will be under both tornado and no disqualification rules, which I think most people might assume disfavors us. After all, I’m likely the only wrestler in this match who won’t be swinging weapons around, which makes me more vulnerable, right?”
[Wendy shakes her head, and smiles just a bit]
Wendy: “Its a popular misconception about me, but the fact is, I won’t use weapons, even in a match like this, because I don’t need to. I have all the weapons I need in my own body, and trust me when I say that the WhirlyBirdz won’t be at a disadvantage at all.”
[Small shrug]
Wendy: “But there’s another unique factor that I don’t think a lot of people have considered about this match. Most wrestling matches, including tag matches are fought in a wide open area, namely the ring. All the action takes place in front of you, so you’ll know when there’s a pinfall attempt, or a double team, or a run-in, or anything else that would require an immediate reaction.”
[Wendy shakes her head]
Wendy: “Not so much in this case. This match will be fought over the span of four rooms, each room likely full of merchadise and shelving. There will not be a clear line of sight to all the action, as there would be in a wrestling ring. If you and your partner get separated, and they get in trouble, you could be in another room, and not even realize their peril.”
[Another pause]
Wendy: “Not to mention, this is a single fall match, not elimination. Someone else could be pinned, or forced to submit, and you wouldn’t even know the match was over until it’s too late. So to win this match, not only will a team need to be on their best wrestling-wise, but they will need to quickly assess the situations playing out over such a large area. It will certainly be a challenge.”
[Wendy smiles]
Wendy: “Of course, also adding to the challenge will be the three teams opposing us.”
[At this, Terrence perks up just a bit. He and Wendy had had the ‘awareness’ discussion earlier, but this part, a chance to make his thoughts known on his opponents, is what he’s truly been waiting for.]
Terrence: “Well, I have to think that Steely Vengeance is likely the weakest of the competitors in this match.”
[Wendy looks slightly disconcerted at first, as if merely agreeing with her husband would constitute a mortal insult to Steely Vengeance. Nevertheless, Wendy finally nods.]
Wendy: “The nature of this match means we can’t overlook ANYONE, Terrence. But I do think you’re right on this front. Steely Vengeance has seemingly struggled over the past few weeks, both Scavenger and Tough Eagle.”
[Terrence shrugs]
Terrence: “Well, maybe I’m wrong, but maybe if they tried focusing on the match instead of lying on the floors of strip clubs, they might have better luck.”
[Wendy’s face takes on a bit of a disgusted look]
Wendy: “Besides... it’s gotta be gross on that floor.”
[Terrence chuckles softly.]
Terrence: “Yeah, well, we’ll bring some Purell. This way, if you have to touch them, you can sanitize yourself quickly after the match.”
[Wendy smiles just a little.]
Wendy: “But I think that Steely Vengeance can most certainly take this match, especially if the other three teams take each other out. I mean, both the Cherrybombs and Double Dragon are going to be tough.”
Terrence: “I don’t know about the Cherrybombs, hon. I mean, I KNOW that Belladonna is the reigning ‘Undisputed Panda’, but from what I’ve seen, the talent differential between her and Haley Dark is considerable. I think in a straight up two against two tag match, they’d be a lot more formidable. But if Haley gets isolated here, I think its’ going to be too much for even someone like Belladonna to handle.”
[Wendy shrugs]
Wendy: “I don’t know. I’m one person who can say that size, or lack thereof, is a handicap that can be overcome with a lot of heart, and that’s something both Belladonna and Dark have in droves. But I also don’t think you can overlook the fact that Belladonna has another match, earlier in the night. She likely won’t be one-hundred percent.”
[From the back of the RV, Pollaski’s disembodied voice floats out, causing both Birdz to jump.]
Pollaski: “It’s a five-on-one gauntlet match against a horrid wrestler, and all things point to Belladonna wrestling last in it, so Loveheart will already have gotten the living boogers smacked out of him by four other people before Belladonna comes in. Prior match will NOT be a factor!”
[Terrence looks over at Wendy, and shrugs.]
Terrence: “Or, there’s that.”
[Wendy looks slightly disconcerted]
Wendy; “Five on one? Is that even ethical?”
[Terrence shrugs]
Terrence: “If you ran a wrestling company, and one of your idiot employees threatened Theresa, wouldn’t you do the same thing?”
[Wendy shakes her head]
Wendy: “No, I’d probably beat the heck out of them myself.”
[Terrence chuckles]
Terrence: “Oh, I’ll bet that’s coming soon enough, knowing Val like I do. She’s just going for the overkill here. But we’re getting off track. I think you and I can both agree that our strongest challenge in this match is likely the tandem known as Double Dragon.”
[Wendy nods, almost absently, her face clouded. Terrence doesn’t fail to miss this.]
Terrence: “Something wrong.”
[Wendy shakes her head]
Wendy: “No... just. Something about Double Dragon seems... well, just familiar to me. Like I’ve seen them somewhere before. But I can’t put my finger on it.”
[Terrence nods]
Terrence: “It’s Draco Negro. That’s who.”
[Wendy looks over at him]
Wendy: “Really. Its...”
Terrence: “Dude’s the black guy in Spy vs. Spy! Without the hat, of course.”
[Wendy’s face freezes in a look of consternation]
Wendy: “Wait... what?”
Terrence: “Well, I think he looks like him.”
[Wendy shakes her head]
Wendy: “That’s not exactly what I’m going for...”
[Terrence shrugs]
Terrence: “I think Jack from The Nightmare Before Christmas would also be an acceptable answer. Though not as close.”
[Wendy nods as if she’s merely trying to humor her husband, then sighs.]
Wendy: “Either way, it seems to me that Double Dragon is a team that likes to talk a lot, but says very little. Its nice that they acknowledge us as their greatest threat, but that alone isn’t going to be enough to win them this match. The fact is, with these stipulations, this contest will be anyone’s game. The only guarantee in this match is that it’s going to be extremely chaotic, and that just about anything could happen.”
[Wendy pauses]
Wendy: “There’s one more guarantee. Whoever walks out of the Four Store War the CPW Tag Team Champion will have earned every last bit of it. But Terrence and I, no matter what everyone thinks of us for coming in and getting this opportunity on our first match, fully intend that team to be us.”
[Terrence nods in agreement, and takes his eyes off the road just long enough to address the camera.]
Terrence: “Double Dragon mentioned earlier about the odd occurrences over the past week about birds falling from the sky. And there will be a stark similarity this time. Only it won’t be raining... it’s going to be a Hailstorm.”
[Terrence breaks into a smirk, at the mention of the Birdz tag team finishing maneuver]
Terrence: “And we’re going to be very much alive.”
[And fade]
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