Tuesday February 8, 2011
Cedar Ridge Hospital- Room 437
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
8:37 AM Local Time
It had been a long night.
In my emotional state, I had made a mistake in trying to pursue Jeremy as he fled from the Ford Center. The moment I realized I stood no chance of catching him, I did what I should have done in the first place- ran to my family and tried to console them.
Terrence was completely unconscious as the paramedics loaded him onto a stretcher, but what really broke my heart was the absolute terror and pain in my daughter’s face as she stared at the entire scene. Theresa had seen us lose before, she had even seen us attacked. But never so brutally, and especially never so up close. And even worse, that monster had swung his chain at her. He had missed- he had intended to- but that did little to excuse his actions. Tonight, some of my worst fears about my occupation, fears I had harbored for ten months since returning to the ring, had become a reality.
As the EMT’s wheeled Terrence out to a waiting ambulance, right then and there I wanted to end it all. Forget the title, forget the Pay-per-view, forget my contractual obligations, just take my daughter, my husband, our lives, and go back to Indianapolis, where it would be safe. I had almost gone to Brydon Talinsdale that night to turn in my resignation, and I had even told Pollaski of my intent. Pollaski had managed to talk me out of it, telling me that I was upset and tired, and I needed to think things over.
Eventually, I relented, and quickly changed into my street clothes, and then Pollaski drove us all to the hospital. From there, there was no time for fretting or self-pity, as I was busy filling out so many forms my wrist began to cramp. All the while, Terrence had woken up several times, so out of it he could barely speak coherently, then fall back into unconsciousness but a short while later.
Finally, around two, he was placed in a room and hooked up to a couple of monitoring machines. At my urging, Pollaski and Cassie took Theresa to a nearby hotel to get some rest, and I spent the night sitting by my husband’s bedside in vigil.
At some point, I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, I was awakened by something being slipped into my fingers. I slowly opened my eyes, and immediately felt stiff all over. After the tough match with Rockwell, spending a night in a hospital chair hadn’t done any good for my aching muscles. I looked down at the hand now gripping mine, and followed the arm up, into the face of my husband.
Terrence still looked like a man who had just taken a beating, but he looked infinitely better than he had the previous night. The light in his eyes had returned, and he was smiling softly at me. “Morning,” he said, his voice hoarse.
My first impulse was to throw myself on him, and barrage him with hugs and kisses. However, I had a feeling that would be counterproductive, so I did my best to return the smile. “Morning,” I replied. “How are you feeling?”
“Like an idiot,” Terrence said, shrugging, although he winced as he did so. “I’m a five-time world champion, for Gods sakes. How could I let that little bitch-boy beat the shit outta me like that?”
“He caught you unawares, don’t worry about it.” I said. “I don’t think anyone was expecting him to hit us in our very own...” my voice trailed off as I felt emotion catching up to me. I knew my eyes were red and puffy from all the ‘emotion’ of the night before, and I didn’t think I had any more tears left. I swallowed hard, and Terrence looked at me, concern etched on his face.
“Are you okay, hon? You look like hell.”
“I’m fine.” I said defensively. “It’s just been a long night.”
Terrence looked like he wanted to say more, but he reached out, and grabbed my hand. I put my other hand over his, and held it, and for a while, the two of us just looked at each other, needing no words.
Only the arrival of the doctor broke our silence, and I released Terrence’s hand to regard him. The doctor was slim, in his mid-thirties. He had a shock of brown hair, a goatee, and a clipboard which he was looking over as he surveyed his patient.
“So, what’s the news, doc?” Terrence asked, trying to sound jovial. “Am I gonna die?”
“We all die sooner or later, Mr. Thompson,” the doctor replied, not even looking up from his clipboard. “I just do what I can to postpone that ultimate inevitability. It’s a fruitless venture, for I am doomed to eventually fail. Just as we all are.”
Just what I needed this morning, I thought. A fatalistic doctor.
“Ah, well, that’s a cheerful thought,” Terrence said, the smile on his face completely vanishing. “So, is this ‘ultimate inevitability’ gonna happen to me anytime soon, or...?”
“Probably not,” the doctor droned in the same, emotionless monotone, although he did seem to emphasize the ‘probably’. “You have bruised ribs, and we’re almost certain that you have a concussion. We intend to keep you under observation for a few days in case complications arise from the concussion.”
“What... what kind of complications?” I asked.
“The brain hemorrhage and die kind,” the doctor said, still with no emotion.
“Oh, the BAD kind of complications,” my husband muttered under his breath.
“Well, we’ll know more once we have an MRI and CATSCAN done,” the doctor continued. “You’re scheduled for both of those tomorrow.”
“Wait... TOMORROW?” Terrence asked, arching an eyebrow. “If I’m going to do that brain hemo-thingie and die, wouldn’t you want to know, like, right now?”
“Under normal circumstances, yes,” the doctor replied. “However, due to the unnatrually cold weather, our Emergency Room is overloaded. As we speak, we’re taking in victims of a pileup out on Interstate Forty. They’re all getting priority.”
“So, how long am I gonna be in here?” Terrence asked.
The doctor paused for a while, then shrugged. “Until we get the MRI and CATSCAN results back, there’s no way of knowing for sure. However, if I had to take a guess, I’d say you’d probably be released Sunday or Monday.”
I immediately felt my heart sinking into my stomach. If what the doctor predicted was true, Terrence wouldn’t be out in time for Revelations. How could I go to Dallas and fight for a world title when my own husband lay trapped in a hospital bed? Terrence could see the sudden distress on my face, and again he reached out and grabbed my hand, giving me a reassuring smile. I did not return it.
If the doctor noticed I was upset, he didn’t show it. He merely looked back at the clipboard, and shrugged again. “Honestly, that’s all I have right now, and I’ve got other patients, so unless you have any questions...”
“No, thanks for the update,” Terrence said sarcastically, which was again completely missed on the doctor as he walked out of the room. Terrence waited until he was gone, then turned towards me, grinning. “Cheerful sort, ain’t he?”
I could do no better than a half-hearted attempt at a smile, which I couldn’t even hold for very long. I could feel tears leaking out of my eyes again, and I brushed them away, sniffling.. “Terry... if what he said is true-”
I was cut off by a beeping of my cellphone. I picked it up off of the bedside table, and looked at it. “Its Pollaski. He’s downstairs, with Theresa and Cassie. They just parked.”
“Wendy.”
I looked up from my phone, and was surprised to see Terrence staring at me. Gone was his smile, any nonchalant attitude he had held earlier. He was looking at me, deadly serious, and I almost gasped at the intensity in his eyes.
“I know you’re upset, and you’ve had a long night. But right now, we’ve got a terrified little girl on her way up who just witnessed something no child should ever have to. You need to be strong. For her.”
I nodded, and opened my mouth, but Terrence wasn’t done. “This is what you’ve wanted, hon. You wanted a chance to step out from my shadow. To prove in your own right that you have what it takes to be a champion. What better way to accomplish that then to win the World Championship while I’m in the hospital?”
“But, this isn’t how I wanted it.,” I whispered. “I wanted you to be there when I-”
Terrence shrugged again, although I could tell it was painful to do so. “It is what it is, hon. We have to play the cards we’re dealt. You know that better than anyone. Just please, promise me, that while you’re in Dallas, Theresa never sees you cry, or even sees you upset. And promise me that after you’re done with Szalinski, Theresa knows that her parents are the type of people who aren’t bullied by ANYONE.”
For a second, I didn’t say anything, wrapped up in my own jumble of thoughts. Terrence frowned at my hesitation, and leaned forward, wincing as he did. “Wendy. Promise me.”
I looked up, startled at the ferocity in his voice. “I promise,” I whispered, and Terrence leaned back, smiling in relief.
“Thank you.”
I smiled back at him, but Terrence’s eyes immediately shot to the door, and he burst into a grin. “There’s my girl!”
I looked over as Theresa bounded into the room, and smiled as she broke into a grin, upon seeing her father awake. I stepped aside to make room for her to run to his bedside, and watched as she tried to hug Terrence. Terrence, for his part, did the best he could to hug her back.
“Easy there, Terr-Bear. Daddy’s still a little sore. But God, am I glad to see you.”
========================
Tuesday February 8, 2011
Embassy Suites Hotel- Suite 811
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
4:11 PM Local Time
I awoke from the sound of our hotel suite door slamming shut, and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I looked over at the small clock mounted on the bedside table, surprised to discover it was now early evening. I had been asleep for almost five hours.
Soon after Theresa, Cassie, and Pollaski had arrived to visit Terrence, Terrence had observed how tired I looked,and suggested that I return to the hotel room to get some rest. Pollaski had driven me back, and I had collapsed upon the bed almost immediately upon arriving. Luckily my sleep had been dreamless- the last thing I needed right now was to be haunted by the past.
“We’re back,” Cassie announced, poking her head in through the door to the bedroom. “Well, Theresa and I are.”
“How’s Terry?” I asked, struggling to a sitting position.
Cassie shrugged. “Restless. I don’t think he much likes the thought of being crammed into a hospital bed for a while. He had a good time with Theresa, though. He watched some cartoons with her, but then he got tired, so Pollaski dropped us off here.”
“Where’d Pollaski go?”
Cassie snorted. “To try and get the RV thawed out enough to move.”
I cringed. The wintry weather this week had been horrible to the Sooner State, and temperatures running in the negative twenties had rendered even our King Aire uninhabitable. I could only hope the extreme cold hadn’t damaged the vehicle any over the past couple days, and that the weather warmed up before Terrence got out of the hospital and discovered that we owned a half-million dollar block of ice.
“Oh, this is for you.” I looked over at Cassie, who was sruggling to pull something out of her pocket. She finally extracted a white envelope, and handed it to me. I looked at it. ‘Mrs. Wendy Briese-Thompson’ was scrawled out on the front of it, in Cassie’s handwriting. I tore the envelope open, and pulled out a piece of stationary, handwriting scrawled down the front.
I only read a couple of lines before I stopped, and looked up at Cassie. “This is a letter of resignation.”
Cassie nodded, and I could see that she was suddenly fighting back tears. “I know that its a tough week for you, so I’ll stay on a couple weeks more, or until you can find another arrangement.”
I held up my hand, postponing the conversation for a second, while I went to the door. My daughter was sitting on the couch in the front room of the suite, playing with her dolls. I quietly shut the door so she wouldn’t hear the conversation, then turned back to Cassie. “Why?” I simply asked.
Now the tears were leaking out, and I quickly grabbed a Kleenex from a box on the nightstand, handing it to her. Cassie took it, and began dabbing at her eyes. “Last night, when Szalinski was attacking Terrence, I was so... so scared. I couldn’t do anything but stand there, and scream. I’m so embarrassed.”
I shook my head, and sat down on the bed. “Cassie, you did exactly you were supposed to do. You grabbed Theresa, and you got her out of the way so she wouldn’t be hurt.”
“But he swung at her. He swung at ME! What if he had hit either of us? I can’t believe he would-”
“I couldn’t believe it either, “ I replied quietly, although I could hear the anger in my voice. “He’s going to pay for that in a week. You can trust me on that.”
Cassie wasn’t reassured. “Wendy, this man, he hates you. He hates who you are, and what you’re about. He did all that to Terrence just because he was your husband! What’s he going to do to you, in a match no less?”
“And because of that, we should all run back home to safety?” I shot back.
“You wanted to last night,” Cassie replied, wiping her eyes again.
I nodded. “Yes, I did. In the heat of the moment, with my husband being hauled off on a stretcher, and my daughter screaming and crying because she was afraid, I wanted to get away from it all. And had I given into my impulse, I would never have forgiven myself.”
I got up off the bed, and walked over to the corner of the room, where my duffel bag lay. I quickly opened a side pocket, and pulled out a vellum envelope, my name written in calligraphy on the front, and a broken wax seal with a monstrous M on the back. I thrust it at Cassie. “Do you remember this?”
Cassie took the envelope, and stared at it. My question had been rhetorical- I knew she remembered it. She was the one Mandrake had given the letter to, with instructions to hand it to me. The letter inside, in addition to several reminders of my imprisonment in Mandrake castle, was a false accusation blaming me for the suicide of a friend, and the promise of retribution on that friends behalf.
“I ran from this,” I said, tapping the letter. “You yourself saw me curl up into a ball and hide, and pretend that Victor Mandrake hadn’t come back into my life. You yourself begged me to do something about it, and I wouldn’t. As a result, I lost my job, and I damn near lost my marriage. I also recall losing your respect because of this. I keep that letter in my bag to remind me every day not to run from a situation, no matter how frightening it might seem. Do you really want to make the same mistake I did?”
“I...” Cassie’s blue eyes were wide, and she couldn’t seem to find the words.
I lowered my voice, althought I still looked at Cassie fiercely. “The night I made my return to wrestling, Stephen Greer threatened to rape me. I refused to run from him, and I was the one who eliminated him at Summer Games. All summer, the Cartel tried to drive me out of PWX. I refused to run from them, and I ended up driving THEM out at the Civil War. You think I’m going to turn tail and run now that some bitter freak in a mask attacked my husband?”
I shook my head, and knelt beside Cassie, who looked over at me. “I’m going to Dallas, because people are counting on me. Everyone who brought a ticket to see me compete. Everyone who’s spending money on pay-per-view. If I ran now, what message would I be sending them? What message would I send Theresa? To tuck tail and run at the first sign of adversity? Is that what I want her to do the first time some kid bullies her for her lunch money? No, Cassie. If I run, I’d be setting a horrible example. I’d be letting a lot of people, most of all my daughter, down.”
“That’s not me though, Wendy.” Cassie croaked, wiping her eyes again. “Nobody’s counting on me.”
“I am.” I said, simply. “Terrence is. Theresa is.”
Cassie sat silently, and said nothing.
“We all have our obligations, whether its in the ring, at our jobs, in our families wherever. Don’t let the fear keep you from fulfilling yours. Please, Cassie, hold off your decision until after Revelations. If you still want to quit, I’ll buy you a plane ticket home and give you a great reference if you need it.”
Cassie paused for a long while, and I held my breath. Finally she nodded, and I smiled. “Thank you.”
I helped Cassie to her feet, and hugged her, which she eventually returned. “Now, come on.” I said, turning towards the door. “Let’s get Theresa and see if there’s any good place for dinner around here. Girls night out.”
Cassie smiled and nodded, then paused. “You may want to shower first,” she cautioned. “You stink.”
I paused. Considering all that had happened, the last time I had a chance to worry about my own personal appearance was before my match against Rockwell, Cassie had a point.
“Good call,” I remarked, and hurried to get a fresh change of clothes, while Cassie left the bedroom.
==============================
Saturday February 12, 2011
City Park
Dallas, Texas
8:15 PM Local Time
“The time has come.”
[Well, unfortunately, by the time Wendy had to leave for Dallas, Terrence wasn’t cleared to be released yet (stupid concussions). So, with the RV still frozen (and Wendy absolutely refusing the drive the thing anyways), the remaining four of the entourage piled into Terrence’s Charger, and made the trip down south to Dallas, where the weather was slightly warmer.]
[Anyways, we open the scene in a small park somewhere just north of downtown Dallas. Wendy, bundled up against the weather with a heavy coat and hat, sits on a park bench, probably second-guessing herself over shooting a promo in the frigid temperatures. Nevertheless, she’s smiling, her cheeks reddened, as the camera fades in]
“Over two months ago, fourteen wrestlers embarked on a journey, a journey to obtain the honor of being the first person to represent X3 Wrestling as its champion. One by one, each of those participants fell by the wayside, until only two remained. For a month now, we’ve known what the finals of this tournament will be. Speculation has run rampant. Odds have been laid, bets have been taken. Radio shows and the internet has been abuzz with the debate.”
“In just a little over twenty-four hours, all that hype, all that debate, all that buildup comes to an end, and Madman Szalinski and I are going to stand in opposite corners, facing each other, the X3W Championship hanging fifteen feet over our heads, waiting for the bell to ring.”
[Wendy rubs her hands together, her smile widening just a bit]
“Am I excited? Absolutely! Am I nervous? Definitely. I’ve been in big matches before, but nothing has ever compared to this. How many people will stuff themselves into the American Airlines Arena? How many more will sit on their couches at home, plunking down their hard earned money for the right to watch this match? And what percentage of those thousands, maybe even millions of people, will be cheering for me, hoping that I’m the one holding that belt aloft at the end of the night?”
[Wendy pauses, and exhales, her breath forming clouds in the nightime air]
“It’s almost overwhelming to think about.”
“It’s almost fitting that my destiny will be decided in a ladder match. I’m normally not a fan of ‘gimmick’ matches, but I genuinely enjoy the concept of the ladder match. They’re dangerous, sure, but at the same time, the strategy that is involved in this contest is unlike any other match. It is the ultimate case of risks and rewards. To win the match, you have to make yourself completely vulnerable. You have to sacrifice the security of the ground to defy your opponent, and gravity itself, to achieve victory.”
[Unconsciously, Wendy raises her right hand, as if she’s on that ladder right now, reaching for the belt. She quickly lowers her hand, and looks back at the camera]
“And as such, the ladder match is one of the most daunting matches in wrestling. One second, you can be inches from victory. that title almost in your grasp, and the next, you are in a heap on the mat, further away from that victory than you could possibly imagine. And all the while, that belt hangs mockingly above you, swaying gently back and forth in the air currents of the arena. Daring you to get back up, shake off the pain, and make another climb, knowing full well that one punch, one kick, one slight misstep, and you’re knocked to oblivion yet again.”
[Wendy grimaces at the thought, and shakes her head]
“It’s so fitting, because I’ve already climbed so much of that ladder already. That title is almost in my grasp. All I need to do is scale the final couple rungs, and reach for it. I’m not falling back down to start all over again. Not this time.”
“It’s funny. I signed up for this tournament never intending to be a full member of the X3 roster. I came simply for a change of pace, to test myself against a different crop of competitors than I was accustomed to facing. I came for challenges to prove myself against, and I’ve yet to be disappointed. But I’ve also been made to feel welcome, whether it’s by management, the respect I’ve received from some of my colleagues, or the ovation fans themselves. I’ve not been treated as an outsider, despite me being one of the few wrestlers on the roster who’s not a carry-over from Evolution.”
[A pause, as Wendy bites her lip, looking away from the camera for just a second.]
“Unfortunately, there are others in this company that are unable to see the opportunities that X3W offers, even if those opportunities in front of them.”
[Gee, who could she possibly be talking about?]
“Madman Szalinski, congratulations. You managed to hit me right where it would hurt the most. You attacked my family. You put my husband in the hospital. You made my daughter know terror. You wreaked havoc on my emotions, and even made me question my dedication to this sport.”
[The smile is gone from Wendy’s face, now. Instead, she is looking at the camera, her eyes narrowed, her hands on her hips. She’s one angry little redhead]
“Don’t think for a second that you’ve gotten away with it.”
“I understand your anger with Terrence. He did, after all, wreck your car. He did pose a distraction that cost you your match against Keebler. Despite me asking him not to, he got involved, and I’m sure that within your mind, he suffered a fitting consequence.”
[Wendy’s words become clipped, and its obvious she’s trying to speak as slowly and clearly as she can, because her first impulse is to just start yelling.]
“But you’re not a parent, Jeremy. You couldn’t understand what its like to be humiliated in such a way in front of your own child. Our children rely on us for safety and guidance. They have to know that we will be there to protect them. It’s one thing to watch your mother or father lose an athletic competition, its an entirely different matter to watch them be beaten into a bloody pulp and carried away in an ambulance. Because of that, I’ve generally not allowed Theresa to watch our matches, especially when there’s a significant danger that one of us might be hurt.”
[A grim smile, and another shake of the head]
“Not this time.”
“No Jeremy, you popped that protective bubble I had tried so desperately to maintain. I’m sure you’ll make some flippant argument that I’m being overprotective, but that wasn’t your call. But you forced my hand, and now I have to do something that I never hoped I would do. I know I could be hurt out there- even killed, but when that match begins, Theresa Thompson will be watching.”
“Because what I want Theresa to remember the most from this incident is that the bad man who hurt her father got exactly what was coming to him six days later.”
[Wendy snorts in disdain]
“‘Bad man’. Wear that monicker with pride, Jeremy. You seem to like those titles that get attached to you, as if they were somehow effacing. ‘Madman’, ‘The most hated man in America’, and now you’ve taken to referring to yourself as a ‘terrorist?’ You fancy yourself a man on the edge, someone with nothing to lose, who’s had enough of the injustices of this world.”
“You give yourself too much credit, Szalinski. Because all you are, all you ever acted like, is an overgrown child who’s been on a tantrum for the past three months, ever since that press conference back in November.”
[Wendy shakes her head in disgust]
“All you can see is how you’ve been wronged throughout your career, whether it’s now, X3W, or even before that. EPW is dead, Jeremy. The website is gone, the company is no more, just like my PWX, and countless other wrestling companies before them. But as long as YOU care about what you’ve done there, as long as you treasure the memories, and the accomplishments you had, the histories will never be erased.”
“But X3W isn’t about the past. It’s not about EPW, no matter how much was carried over. It’s here so that we can create our own future, to create a new era in pro-wrestling. Look around you! Those names of people you complained about. Kris Keebler. Katherine Stryfe. Psycho Soldier. With all due respect to them, they’re not in this match. They’re not going to Dallas to compete for the World Championship. You are.”
[Wendy’s voice softens just a little]
“Count your blessings, Jeremy, because you have a lot more going for you than you think. You have money. I know the old adage, ‘money doesn’t buy happiness’, and I can certainly attest to that. But in this day and age, where so many families don’t even know how they’re going to pay off the next round of bills, financial security is certainly a blessing.”
“You’ve also been blessed with talent. You’re a great wrestler, anyone can see that by watching you. You were able to get by Jenova, and Clausen, and even managed to survive Thatcher Rex. And you have a woman who cares so much about you. I certainly can’t see what would ever make you so appealing as a romantic interest, but Ariel can. She loves you, Jeremy, and she wants to be by your side.”
[For a second, Wendy almost looks sad.]
“But I’ve learned long ago that if you don’t appreciate what you have, you may wake up one morning to find that it’s gone. Money, talent, and love can’t last forever, Jeremy, especially if we don’t take care of them. What will you have then? What will be left? Will the X3W Championship fill the gaping holes that you’re allowing into your life?”
“The saddest part of it all, is that you actually have the potential to be a likeable guy. You have a sense of humor, I saw that in your poem about Rex. You evidently have a passion for the classic video games. I’ve been around enough wrestling fans to know that many have spent their nights in front of a flickering light, kneeling at the altars of Mario and Sonic. You’re someone they can relate to.”
[Short pause]
“At least, you would be, if your attitude didn’t suck.”
“The problem is, Szalinski, you seem to think that you’re the only person in this world who’s ever been wronged. I’d like to see a person who’s spent any time in this business who doesn’t have scars, both physical and mental. I know I have them.”
“I also know what it’s like to be screwed by backstage politics. Everyone knows of my time in PWX, but you think that’s the only time? I was the champion of the Bayou Wrestling Association, one of the regions of the old WFWA. Under WFWA rules, it wasn’t a world title, but it was certainly the top belt in that esteemed company.”
[Wendy, suddenly restless paces to the side as she tells her story, the camera following her. She struggles to keep her voice matter-of-fact, but the emotion, namely anger and resentment after all these years, is still there]
“When I won, everyone said it was because my opponent had a concussion. Over and over, to the point where I myself began to believe it. And then, when the BWA broke away from the WFWA, they decided to make their own world title, deciding it in an eight man tournament. I wasn’t even invited to participate. When it was regional, I was good enough to be the champion, but the moment they decided to expand, I was given a secondary belt and told to go play in the sandbox with the other midcarders.”
[Ouch]
“Eventually, stuff like that caused me to walk away. Not just from the company, but the sport entirely. I hung up my boots for five years because I didn’t feel I could get a fair shake. But I didn’t throw a tantrum. I didn’t burn my bridges. I simply said I wouldn’t stand to be treated like this, and I left. Should I have? I don’t know. But just like you, I’ve been there. I’m sure at one point or another, everyone has.”
“All I’ve ever asked for is a chance. All I ever wanted is an opportunity to show what I can do. Sometimes, I’ve succeeded, and sometimes, I’ve fallen flat on my face. But I can guarantee you one thing- everytime I’ve fallen, I’ve gotten back up, and I’ve come back, hopefully stronger and wiser than before.”
[A small sigh]
“Over and over, Jeremy, you asked me how I could do it? How can I get up after being knocked down? How did I even get here? How am I such an idealist, despite all the awful realities I’ve had to cope with?”
[A long pause, with Wendy looking pensive. Finally, she merely shrugs]
“I honestly don’t know.”
[Oh, that’s profound]
“Maybe I’m just wired differently than you. Maybe its my faith in God, that he’ll never give me more than I can handle. Maybe it’s because my very first wrestling match i was in a six-man tag match against three three-hundred pound thugs, and both of my partners failed to show up. Maybe its because Terrence and I lost our first five matches when we started teaming together, so I got all kinds of experience in picking myself up off the mat. I don’t know.”
“What I do know, Jeremy, is we are professional athletes, no different than the basketball, football, and baseball players who fill stadiums every night across this country, and around the world. And like every athletic competition since two Neanderthals decided to see who could throw a rock the furthest, there’s a winner, and there’s a loser. For the winner, there is the glory, and the spoils of victory. For the loser, the sting of defeat, the blow to the pride, and the attempt to claim a moral victory as one tries to regroup. That’s the nature of this business, since before you and I debuted, and until long after you and I retire.”
“The people we compete against are not slaves. They, like us, are competing of their own free will. Therefore, why should I pity or mock the opponents I’ve beaten? Why should I worship or begrudge the opponents who have beaten me? All I ask, is a fair competition. No cheating or outside interference, no attempt to unnecessarily or excessively injure an opponent, and cessation of hostilities upon termination of the contest.”
[Wendy looks directly at the camera, her emerald eyes blazing with determination. Here is the core of her beliefs about wrestling. Her ideals laid bare to the world]
“That’s the way it should be, Jeremy. That, right there, is the purest from of the spirit of competition. What about that is so terrible? And yet, you mock me for believing in it. It’s not the easiest path to follow, and Lord knows I’ve slipped from it more times than I care to admit. And Lord knows, I’ve been left lying bloodied on the canvas more than my fair share of times because of it. But what joy is there in a victory that is not properly earned? What purpose is a championship without respect for the very nature of the competition that surrounds it?”
“You ask me how I do it? I could turn that very question back around on you. How do you do it? How do you walk to that ring and compete when you are filled with such misery and despair? How can you fully appreciate the risks your body faces in this sport, when you refuse to respect it? How can you win anything when you’ve already lost yourself?”
[Another shake of her head, although this one is more of resignation and sadness than utter disgust.]
“You talk of destroying me, Szalinski. You talk of breaking my spirit, dismantling my life, crippling my soul, like its something so easily accomplished. You know some of my history, Jeremy. I haven’t exactly kept it hidden. I’ve even spoken of some of it. Do you believe there’s anything you can do to me that Mandrake, or Ronin, or Greer, or my very own father haven’t tried?”
“If you think that simply grabbing that belt is going to shatter me, you’re going to be dead wrong. I’ve invested a lot in getting to this point, and I know that if I come up short yet again, I’m going to be devastated. And if your perverse mind derives joy from that, well, more power to you.”
“But even a defeat here won’t end me. It may take a few days, maybe even weeks, but I’m going to get back up, and I’m going to one day seize that championship. Because the only time we’re ever truly defeated, is the time we don’t get back up. And if I get my way at Revlations, that’s a lesson you’re going to have to learn on the ground.”
[Wendy pauses once more, and stands up a bit straighter, again boring her emerald eyes directly into the camera]
“‘Madman’ Szalinski, the hour is nigh. I expect you to bring everything you have to this match, but I fully plan on walking out of this match the winner. This is the closest I’ve ever been, and I’m not about to let a self-pitying little weasel like you keep me from it. I didn’t want this match to become personal. I didn’t want to enter tomorrow night with the two of us having such dislike for each other, but your actions have pushed it here.”
[Another pause, with Wendy pausing, knowing full well that she has her own regrets about the way the situation unfolded. Finally, however, she shrugs]
“I guess, ultimately, it matters not. The goal of this match is the same, whether you are my best friend or my hated enemy. Climb the ladder, take that title. That’s one simple goal in a world full of complexities. And be assured, Jeremy. As long as I have the stregnth to stand, or even crawl, I will keep heading towards that ladder. I will keep climbing, keep trying, keep reaching, until I finally have that gold clutched in my hands.”
“How do I do it, you ask?”
[A small smile, but one packed full of grit and determination]
“You’ll know soon enough.”
[Fade]
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