Salem Speedway- Pit Area Entrance
Salem, Indiana
10:31 PM Local Time
I smiled wistfully as I looked up into the black southern Indiana night sky. Even though the only clouds were the one’s coming from the breaths of the racegoers on this chilly night, only the waning quarter moon could be seen through the bright lights of the speedway. Still, it was a beautiful evening, an end to what had been almost a perfect day.
The fates couldn’t have picked a better weekend or location for tonight’s race. Salem was only a couple hours drive south of Indianapolis. It had been the latest in a series of events, both with ARCA and FFW, that had taken place remarkably close to home. Even more wonderful, Salem was located in the rolling southern Indiana hills, a heavily forested region that in autumn took on a dazzling array of colors as the leaves began to turn. And while the arboral fireworks wouldn’t be in full-swing until mid-October, there were enough early changers to still make Salem and it’s surrounding environs a perfect place for an autumn stock car race.
Unfortunately, my skygazing prevented me from seeing the rock in the middle of the path, and the moment I stepped down on it, I lost my balance. I began to fall foward, listing slightly to my right, my arms instinctively bracing for impact. Luckily, my husband had been paying more attention than I had been, and he was quick to grab me, and keep me from falling fully to the ground.
“Easy!” The voice of my husband rang in my ears, and he slowly released me once my equilibrium had been restored. “You alright there, hon?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Terry,” I muttered. I could feel myself slightly blushing with embarrassment over making such a silly error. I quickly smoothed out my clothes, and my dignity, and we resumed our walk towards the exit of the pit area, Terrence silently slipping his hand into mine.
“Have a good night folks!” Despite the late hour, the security guard stationed at the gate was as jovial as he had been when we arrived this afternoon, albeit a bit more tired. Terrence and I both returned the farewell, giving a wave to the man as we passed through the gate and out into the parking lot.
“You were great out there,” I said as we strolled through the lot at a leisurely pace. Salem was one of four tracks on the ARCA schedule that Terrence had raced on prior to joining the circuit, and four months ago he had used that experience to his advantage and a third place finish. This time, he had finished fourth, but overall, the energy coming from this race as opposed to the May run was so much greater. Terrence now sat ninth in the standings, a hundred points ahead of his closest rival for Rookie of the Year honors. This wasn’t a lone bright spot in an otherwise shaky opening sequence- this was a true driver coming around to his potential.
Terrence knew it, too, and the smirk he now had on his face made no effort to hide it. He held a much more commanding presence now, both in the pits and on the track. He was no longer an unknown, his style and tendencies familiar to the other drivers, who were more comfortable racing in a pack with him. And they had grown to respect him as he slowly worked his way up the standings.
Well, at least MOST of them respected him, I thought darkly as the image of Terrence’s ‘teammate’ popped into my head.
Still, I really only had to deal with one half of the Hamiltons this weekend. Banned from the pit area for both this week, and the race at Kansas for picking a fight with me on Labor Day, Andrea had been forced to purchase her own ticket, and sit in the grandstands. And while Wesley had finished third, Matthew Bronson had won, closing Wes’ lead in the points to just a small handful. I couldn’t help but feel some level of vindictive pleasure as I imagined Andrea sitting in the bleachers watching her husband’s hold on the championship weaken ever so slightly.
It wasn’t a very long walk to the RV, and soon, we were climbing up the steps and flipping on the light. “Hello?” I called out, looking around. No one answered.
“The kids must not be back yet,” Terrence muttered, jokingly referring to not just Theresa, but Pollaski and Cassandra as well. “Fine by me... I need to get out of this fuckin’ racesuit.” He turned and arched his eyebrows, giving me a look that left doubt what he had in mind. “If we’re lucky, maybe it’ll be a while before I have to put on some other clothes...”
I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head. “Terrence Thompson, what makes you think that I would ever go for a line as cheesy as that?”
Terrence grinned, and hooked his arm around my waist, pulling me in. “Because as cheesy as I am, you’re even cheesier. I guess we’re just a cheesy little couple.”
I smiled back, and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Well, it’s a shame we had to go with ‘the WhirlyBirdz’ for a team name then. Imagine how much better it would have been if we had gone by ‘Team Velveeta.”
Terrence chuckled, leaned forward and kissed me, then stepped back, striking a positively cheesy pose while leaning against the RV’s table. “Sorry, but as hot as you are, I don’t think you can burn through this firesuit. I think we’ll have to- AH! SHIT!” Terrence withdrew his hand from the table with a yelp, followed by a hiss. He stared down at his hand, annoyed as blood slowly began welling up in a cut on his palm.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, rushing forward towards my husband. “Are you okay?”
Terrence nodded, looking more irritated than hurt. “I’m fine. Something was on the table, and it cut me.”
Terrence moved to grab some paper towels, while I inspected the table. Sure enough, there were several metalic shards on the table, all of them very sharp edged. Confused, I gingerly turned one of the shards over in my hand. It was gold, with etchings on it. In fact, the design seemed familiar...
I picked up another piece, and another, the metaphorical pieces coming together in the puzzle inside my head. These etchings belonged to... one of the sideplates on my Evolution title?
Slowly, my gaze shifted from the shards to the title belt itself, sitting on the table as well. The pieces were coming together too fast for me to truly comprehend what was happening, but already a feeling of absolute dread was welling up inside me.
I turned the belt over, unfolding it, feeling my blood freeze in my veins. Someone had taken a hammer to it. One of the sideplates had been shattered, the pieces forming the debris on the table, while two more of the plates had been cracked. The main face plate had fared better, but several dings had been made in the plating. To top it all off, the word “BITCH” had been scratched into the leather strap.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. My heart was pounding in my ears. This had to have been what having a heart attack feels like. Maybe I was having one. Maybe I was dying. Maybe I was...
“Wendy, I asked if everything is...” Terrence came up by my side and paused as he saw the belt in my hands. “Oh Jesus...” he muttered.
I didn’t respond. I was shaking, laboring to breathe, my heart still pounding, my knees feeling like they could give way. Who could have done this? Breaking into our RV was disconcerting enough, but who could hate me so much that they would do... this?
One name, one sneering, blonde haired head popped out at me. A woman who had an intense dislike of me. A woman who would carry no appreciation for this belt and what it meant to not just the holder, but those who had held it, and those who were seeking it. A woman who I knew for a fact was here, in Salem, at the speedway.
“She’s dead,” I whispered. “She’s fucking dead.”
“Hunh? Whoah... hang on!” Before Terrence could even comprehend, I was marching towards the exit, my fists clenched into balls at my side. Terrence raced after me, grabbing me by my shoulder, spinning around. “Wendy, wait! You don’t know-”
“Who else could have done it, Terrence?” I snapped back, trying unsuccessfully to keep tears from leaking from my eyes. “She’s here at the track! And she wasn’t in the pits, so she could have been free to roam around the entire parking lot while the race went on! If it wasn’t her, who was it?”
Terrence thought for a second, then shrugged. “Okay, it was probably her. But still, you can’t just...”
“The hell I can’t!” I was on the verge of hysterics now, but I didn’t care. I merely wiped the moisture from my eyes and continued to snarl at my husband. “I knew I should have taught that bitch a lesson at DuQuoin! I should have broken her arm in half instead of just tossing her into a mud puddle! Hell, I should have put her head through the sidewalk when she threatened you at the hospital in Grand Rapids! Well, I’ve had it with her!”
“Wendy, please...”
“Let go of me, Terrence!” I snarled trying to tug myself free of his grasp. But his grip was to tight.
“But you don’t even know where she is! You can’t just go running around the parking lot in the dark! Hell, she could be halfway to Louisville by now!”
“I don’t care! I’ll find her! And when I do...” My voice gave out, and I choked back a sob. Helplessly, I glanced over at the table, where my shattered belt sat.
“I wanted that belt for months, Terry. And I didn’t even get it for a week before-” My knees gave out finally, and I fell forward, right into Terrence’s arms. At the same time, any semblance of control I had left vanished, and the leak around my eyes turned into a floodgate. Terrence gently put his arms around me, gently stroking my hair as I sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder.
=========================
From the private journal of Wendy Briese
18 September 2011
I don’t recall ever feeling so numb.
I suppose it’s probably a better feeling than the one I had last night, when I had a complete mental breakdown upon seeing my Evolution Championship damaged the way it was. Never, in the six years I’ve been in this business, have I had to deal with something like this. The fact is, even if there are those in this business who don’t personally like me- a title belt, especially one as prestigious as the Evolution Championship, tends to be respected. After all, most people hope to hold that title belt around their waist as well, so destroying said item is generally counterproductive. That and, it’s never a good idea to go around destroying the property of the company you work for.
And that’s what has me so worried this morning. While I may claim the Evolution Championship as my own, and wear it, the fact remains that it is not my property but FFW’s. And considering the condition the belt is currently in, and the fact that I’ve been charged with keeping it as long as I’m the champion, that puts me in a delicate situation. My fault or not, it’s not going to be pretty telling Samantha Star that such a piece of valuable company property is damaged.
Pollaski looked the belt over last night, and told me this morning that while there’s no doubt damage to the title, it might not be as severe as it first looked. He’s overnighted the belt back to its original manufacturer, with hopes that it can be repaired in time for the PPV. It sounds like a tall order to me, but Pollaski’s fairly certain that if we spend enough cash, that belt will be back in my hands by bell time, completely repaired. He’s advised me to not tell anyone about this, unless it becomes apparent I won’t have the title back in time. That sits uneasy with me... it seems at least SOMEONE should know what’s going on, like Mr. Kincaid, who’d probably be much more understanding about the situation. But, and I hope to God I don’t end up regretting it, I’m going to take my managers advice.
The only thing left to do, then, is to get myself focused on Crystal Hilton, so that I’m ready to face her when Sin & Sacrifice begins. I’ve had no problems overcoming distractions before, whether they were injuries, problems with my father, Terrence being in the hospital, or the occasional being kidnapped. If anything, it’ll be nice once I finally get into that ring. Inside that ring, everything is much more simple. Just get the job done, and get the win, don’t worry about anything else. That won’t change Saturday, whether or not I’m walking down to that ring with a newly restored title belt, or walking down to that ring with nothing but the realization that I’m in deep trouble with management. Just get the job done.
Besides, if the belt doesn’t make it back on time, but I win anways, that at least saves me the trouble of having to explain to Crystal why she can’t have the title she just beat me for. I know the belt is by and large symbolic, and it’s truly the recognition of being the champion that we all actually desire (see Atherton, Casey, why no one takes her seriously), but that won’t be a pretty sight. Chalk that up to incentive right there.
Either way, it’s going to be a long week. But I’ve gotten out of tougher jams than this before. I can do it again.
After all, where would I be without hope and faith in myself?
-WCBT
Saturday September 24, 2011
The Palace- Briese Locker Room
Auburn Hills, Michigan
4:31 PM Local Time
[So, we’re still a bit of a ways from bell time here at Sin & Sacrifice, but the WhirlyBirdz have already arrived, and taken up roost in Wendy’s locker room. It’s been a long wait for this evening, and the nerves are finally starting to set in on Wendy.]
[Those nerves are especially doubled up now, as Wendy paces back and forth across her locker room floor, her phone in her hand, the redhead Evolution Champion staring at it intensely. Finally, she looks over at her manager, desperation in her eyes]
Wendy: “It’s not changing.”
[Pollaski’s noticed that the camera is on, and darts a sidelong, annoyed glance at Wendy’s husband Terrence, who’s leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. Finally, with an eyeroll, Pollaski turns back to his client.]
Pollaski: “Okay, hang on. What does it say again?”
[Wendy glances at her phone]
Wendy: “Out for delivery in Auburn Hills at 3:30. That’s it.”
Pollaski: “Okay, so the truck is somewhere in Auburn Hills. And if I had to guess, it’s delivering things. People here know you’re expecting a package, and they’ll let you know when it gets here, so calm...”
[Ever notice it’s never a good idea to tell a hysterical person to calm down?]
Wendy: “Don’t tell me to calm down! What if the truck gets a flat tire! Or it crashes? Or the driver has a heart attack? Or-”
Pollaski: “Or what if the driver goes so fast, he opens up a temporal wormhole and gets sucked into an alternate dimension, one where Charity Deas is the FFW Champion?”
[Wendy pauses in her pacing, and looks directly at Dan]
Wendy: “Are you making fun of me?”
Pollaski: “Oh no. I would never dream of doing that.”
[It’s said flatly, with absolutely no trace of sarcasm. Because Pollaski is that awesome]
Wendy: “It has to be here. It’s GOT to be here. I need it to be here. I can’t go out there without-”
[Wendy is cut off as Pollaski clears his throat, a reminder that she best not mention what she’s waiting for. Wendy instead begins pacing back and forth, muttering “It’s got to be here” to herself in a mantra. Terrence is looking concerned at Pollaski.]
Terrence: “Dude, it’s not good when she’s like this. Especially before a match. Isn’t there anything you can do?”
Pollaski: “Well... there’s one thing. But you won’t like it.”
Terrence: “I don’t care. Just do it. She’s got to get over this...”
[Pollaski pauses, and shrugs, nodding to himself. He then quickly walks across the room, and grabs Wendy by the shoulders, shaking her violently like a rag-doll, and screaming]
Pollaski: “IT’S-OUT-FOR-FUCKING-DELIVERY-WOMAN! SO-GET-A-HOLD-OF-YOURSELF-BEFORE-YOU- SCREW-UP-THE-BIGGEST-MATCH-OF-YOUR-FUCKING-CAREER!
*SMACK!*
[Pollaski finshes the pep-talk by driving an open palm into Wendy’s cheek. Wendy turns her head back to Pollaski, blinking, her mouth open in shock, her hand to where her manager had just smacked her. Pollaski dusts off his hands, as if his job was done.]
Pollaski: “Well, that was actually kinda fun...”
Terrence: “DUDE!”
*SMACK*
Pollaski: “OW!”
Terrence: “Don’t hit my fucking wife!”
*SMACK*
Pollaski: “You told me I could!”
*SMACK*
Terrence: “I didn’t know you were going to do that!”
*SMACK!*
Pollaski: “I told you you weren’t going to like it!”
[Pollaski and Terrence begin wrestling around, still trying to slap each other. Eventually, both men lose their balance and fall to the ground, grunting, the occasional smack being heard. Wendy, still in shock over being slapped herself, looks down at her husband, a former World Champion, and her manager, an up and coming SVW star, having a slapfight in her locker room]
Wendy: “Uh... guys?”
[Down on the ground- off camera]
Terrence: “Say uncle! SAY UNCLE!”
Pollaski: “That’s not even a submission hold, dumbass!”
[Wendy rolls her eyes, deciding it’s best not to get in the middle- although it’s a positve that she’s not running around freaking out now. Instead, something on the telvision in the locker room catches her eye, and she turns to regard it. It’s a preview show running for Sin & Sacrifice, currently hyping up the Chase for the Crown match. Wendy smiles wistfully at that.]
Wendy: “Hard to believe that four months ago, that was Crystal and I, isn’t it?”
[Hearing Wendy talking, and not in an insane fashion, breaks the fight up, and both men climb to their feet, looking disheveled. Wendy, not noticing her peacmaking miracle, continues]
Wendy: “And here we are now... facing each other in one of the biggest matches on the show... a true match of the year candidate. I hope the girls in this edition take notice. That tournament can help you get on the map here in FFW so quickly.”
[Pollaski snickers]
Pollaski: “Heh. What can CROWN do for you?”
[The pun goes over like a fart in church, doubly so because Wendy’s currently freaking out about the location of the UPS guy. Terrence feels obligated...]
*SMACK*
Pollaski: “OW! STOP THAT!”
[Wendy ignores that]
Wendy: “It’s amazing what one tournament- three simple matches did for my career in FFW. And honestly, it’s amazing what it did for Crystal’s career. Through the preliminaries, and our confronation in the finals, we proved that we could hang with pretty much anyone in the FFW locker room. And the opportunities we were given reflected that.”
[Small sigh]
Wendy: “Two weeks ago, I climbed a ladder, and I grabbed a title. And believe me, the view from the top of that ladder was tremendous. But you know what I saw, that stood out the most? I saw another ladder- one that led higher up, to the heavens. I want to climb that one, and see what’s at the top. I want to see what I can do in the Femme For All. I want to see how far I can go with the Evolution Title. I want to see if I can become the first person to win the FFW Championship while holding the Evolution Championship. At Sin & Sacrifice, I can either begin finding the answers to those questions, or I can let them slip away. And the same goes for Crystal.”
[Pollaski nods, as Terrence goes back to leaning against the wall]
Pollaski: “Actually, Crystal seems to be more focused on just wanting to beat you, rather than what it could bring.”
[Wendy nods]
Wendy: “And I think that’s the biggest difference between us. To me, this match isn’t about any personal grudge. It’s a great rivalry, to be sure, but this isn’t for the sake of tossing Crystal down. This is simply the next step I need to take on my road, regardless of opponent. Maybe it’s because I already hold a victory over Crystal. I know I can pin her- she doesn’t enter this match with the same assurance. She’s got to prove that she can beat me, and get that monkey off her back, before she can do anything else.”
[Wendy shakes her head]
Wendy: “But don’t think for a second that I have any less to prove. I might not be fighting just for the right to say I’m better than Crystal, but I’m fighting for a heck of a lot. A loss here, and that all goes away. Everything I’ve dreamed of, everything I worked for. The only thing I’ll have in store for me is an upcoming visit from Rose Jenkins. And with all due respect to Rose, I’d like a lot more to look forward to than a ruthless behemoth trying to punch my face in.”
[A small flicker of a smile, as if Wendy had just attempted humor]
Wendy: “But I’ve known all along that this is going to be a personal match for Crystal. If you watch her promos, the fact of the matter is that Crystal’s been acting like she’s been facing me for her last three matches. Perhaps that’s why she lost two of them- after all, it’s never good when you’re focused on the wrong opponent. Because while she’s been in the ring with someone else, you knew it was me she was envisioning. Heck, she even said that when she was attacking Belladonna, she would be envisioning a certain other redhead than the one she was against.”
Wendy: “And while it may have cost her against the likes of Tara and Kitty, that’s definitely a disconcerting though on my end. This is a woman who’s spent the last two months thinking constantly about getting back in that ring with me. And while she’s been foaming at the mouth, I’ve had my attention divided, mainly in capturing the Evolution Championship. But for the last two weeks, my attention has been on Crystal. I’ve been studying our first match, seeing what I did wrong, and thinking of ways I could have done better. I’ve been seeing what I did right, as well as what Tara and Kaitlynn did right, to bring her down. My focus is on Hilton, you can rest assured that I’ll be ready for her tonight.”
[Title or no title!]
Pollaski: “It’s good that you recognize that Crystal is going to be taking this match personally. She’s done some pretty... bizarre shit over the past couple months.”
[Wendy smiles slightly]
Wendy: “She has, really. She’s taken some verbal shots, such as how I’m not worth two cents for a pay-per-view, or how I’m inferior. She’s even called my sense of fair play into question, by pulling that stupid trick with the couch when we were on Adonis Says. She’s shrieked in mindless rage and willed me to die in a fire. She liked to talk a lot of smack about me, especially when she was supposed to be focusing on other opponents.”
Wendy: “And yet, she then turns around and acts like she wants to be my friend. She’s asked me over Twitter if we could take our daughters out shopping together. She’s mentioned several times how much she respects me, and thinks I’m one of the top wrestlers in the company. It’s so inconsistent, I don’t get it. One day Wendy Briese is a manipulative little you-know-what, the next I’m the greatest person in the world.”
[Wendy shakes her head in disbelief, and shrugs.]
Wendy: “I’m not even sure what to make of it. Is this some kind of mind game? Is this how she gets under my skin. Because if she really is trying to make a friend out of me, she’s really going about an awful way of accomplishing it.”
[Snort]
Wendy: “It’s the same deal I had with Robbyn Helmsley the other day. You cannot stand there, scream profanities, insult me, and degrade my accomplishments one moment, then compliment me the next. That’s not respect. That’s insincerity. If you truly have respect for someone, you’ll show that respect regardless of who they can or can’t beat, or what title’s they have, or whether they open the show or close it. You don’t get to pick and choose.”
[Wendy looks at Pollaski, and shrugs]
Wendy “And maybe I’m being harsh here. But the last person to go on some psychotic rant about me, then turn around and pretended to respect me ended up trying to drive a microphone into my skull. So pardon me if I’m a bit skeptical here, but contrary to popular belief, I’m not an idiot. And I’m not going to have my intelligence insulted. How I view wrestling does not make me weak. It does not make me gullible, or an easy target or a pushover, and I will NOT be taken as such.”
[Wendy looks stern, and defiant, although-]
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
[Wendy jumps slightly at the rapping on the door, while Terrence and Pollaski exchange glances. Being the nearest, Wendy walks to the door, creaking it open. She looks out.]
Wendy: “Hello?”
Male Voice: “Hi. Um... I have a delivery at the loading dock for Thompson?”
[Wendy wheels around, excitement on her face.]
Wendy: “It’s here!”
Terrence: “I’ll go get it.”
[Terrence pushes himself away from the wall...]
*SMACK*
Pollaski: “GOD DAMN IT!”
[And walks, grinning ear to ear, out of the room. Wendy shuts the door, and turns back to her manager. Excitement in her eyes]
Wendy: “It’s here!”
Pollaski: “And we knew it would be. Now calm down, champ. You still got a match to prepare for. Like Crystal Hilton and her contradictions.”
[Wendy nods taking a deep breath.]
Wendy: “For her to be so contradictory, she’s either a chameleon, out to do whatever makes her look the best in any given circumstance, or she’s just mentally unbalanced. Considering her Byte this promo had her screaming about me and throwing glasses against the wall... and she just said that she keeps envisioning my face showing up and taunting her...
[Pollaski starts whistling the “Twilight Zone” theme. Wendy glares at him, and he eventually peters off, although grinning]
Pollaski: “Well, to be fair, I’ve been feeling the stresses of this match too. Crystal’s face keeps showing up in my dreams, too.”
[Wendy looks surprised by this]
Wendy: “Oh? Is she taunting you?”
[Pollaski shrugs]
Pollaski: “I don’t know. Does ‘Oh God, Pollaski, Don’t stop. Harder! Harder!’ count as a taunt?”
[Stunned silence, although Wendy seriously looks like she’s about to throw a right hook at her grinning manager. Pollaski realizes he may have just found the line, and immediately gets things back on track.]
Pollaski: “Of course, she COULD be a chameleon, as you claim. After all, she seemed pretty damn quick to change her hometown to Detroit,the moment she found out where Sin & Sacrifice was. I mean, at Byte This, you didn’t claim to be from New York, despite being born there.”
[Wendy nods and shrugs]
Wendy: “Well, they say that home is where the heart is, and trust me, it’s true. The fact is, I never considered New York my home, even if I did live there for fourteen years. I just didn’t like the politics, the social circles, the feeling that it was all pointless. Indianapolis is where I graduated high school, where I met my husband, where I gave birth to my daughter. Just like the song says, ‘How I long for my Indiana home.’”
Wendy: “And maybe Crystal’s taken an interest in the city of her birth again, and the timing here is coincidental. But she better be careful in that regard. Because while fans do like hometown heroes... they sure as heck do not like having their intelligence insulted. And FFW fans aren’t stupid- they know when the wool’s being pulled over their eyes. And if Crystal screams Detroit Rock City one week, then turns around and plays at Malibu Barbie the next, it will be known.”
[Pollaski looks stunned that Wendy’s actually heard of the song Detroit Rock City]
Wendy: “And to that same effect, I dont’ expect to be booed like Crystal assumes. You see, she can pretend to hate Indy, but us and Detroit go hand in hand. After all, we drive on our race tracks what Detroit makes in their factories. And I might support them, but I’m not the Fighting Irish. I’m not the Colts, or the Pacers, and I’m not coming to the Palace to beat Detroit. I’m here to beat Crystal Hilton, and Crystal Hilton alone. I’m sure not even Crystal’s arrogant enough to assume they’re one and the same.”
Wendy: “Because as much as Crystal might want to pretend, the hopes and dreams of the Motor City do not rest on her shoulders. America’s had some hard times, and Detroit’s been one of the worst hit. What was once the hottest industrial city in America is shriveling up bit by bit, and no one seems to know how to stop it. It’s tragic, because, like I said, this is a city that is the capital of one of America’s greatest loves- cars. And yet, does anyone really think that a Crystal victory will suddenly turn the fate of Motown around? Or, conversely, that a loss will accelerate the downturn?
[Wendy shakes her head]
Wendy: “See, if there’s one thing Crystal’s always failed at, it’s keeping things in perspective. She likes to make up grandoise ideas about who she is, and what she stands for. But that’s all it is- hyperbole.”
[Wendy glances nervously at the door, pausing for a second, as if she thinks it’s about to open. When it doesn’t she sighs, and continues.]
Wendy: “Crystal asked me what it is I wrestle for, and I think that’s an honest question that deserves a response, even if I’ve already given the answer before. It’s not for the fans, Crystal. I’m not doing this for the cheering throngs of people, as much as I do appreciate their support. Its not for them that I walk down that ramp. Nor is it for my daughter, or my husband, at least now that he’s retired. I’m not doing this to keep my family fed, or to keep us together. In fact, you can bet that sometimes I wonder if it would be better for her if I DIDN’T do it... considering the risks involved. And you can rest assured that I don’t do this for Pollaski.”
[Wendy finishes by laughing, Pollaski frowns and looks down]
Pollaski: “Ouch...”
[Wendy grins]
Wendy: “I appreciate all the support I’ve been given. Any fan who’s ever bought a ticket to see me, or my merchandise, or who’s ever just sat on a couch and screamed ‘Go Wendy’ at the television, you have my heartfelt thanks. And to my daughter and husband, who put up with my difficult travel and training schedules, and my fretting, and who are always here in this room after a match, win or lose, you also have my thanks. And I owe everyone who’s supported me my grattitude, and my maximum effort.
[A small smile]
Wendy: “But ultimately, I’m wrestling simply because I love it. This is the one thing I do best in my life, and I’m grateful every day that I get to do it. I love the thrill of the competitions, and the intensity of the challenges. That’s what I wrestle for- myself, and the chance to prove myself.”
[Shrug]
Wendy: “Some might say it’s a selfish perspective. I say the exact opposite. Because without me, or any of us, there still is wrestling. But without wrestling, there is no me- at least I wouldn’t be who I am today. It’s been a dangerous, and difficult road, and it will continue to be so. And if I didn’t enjoy the travels, I wouldn’t be on it.”
Wendy: “And I will enjoy tonight very, very much. Because this is what wrestling is all about. Two great competitors, who have been tied together since their debuts. Two out of three falls. The stakes will be high, and the quality of the action even higher. And it won’t matter who’s from where, or how we got here, all that matters is who will walk out of this one the victor, the Evolution Champion, and ready to try their hand in the Femme For All.”
[A slight smile]
Wendy: “I likened this match to walking across a narrow ledge a few days ago. And Crystal, the most dangerous thing you can possibly lack when walking across a dangerous precipice is perception. After all, you need to truly be able to see where you are, where you’ve been, and where you going. One false vision can lead to a mistep, and one mistep can lead to disaster.”
[Slight pause]
Wendy: “It’s a long way down.”
[The door suddenly swings open, and Terrence walks in, holding a box. Before Wendy can react, he tosses it to her, and she breaks into a grin]
Wendy: “It’s here!”
Pollaski: “As we knew it would be... just open the damn thing.”
[Wendy, her back to the camera kneels down, and rips open the box, looking inside. She reaches in, and touches the contents, looking them over. She breathes a huge sigh of relief]
Wendy: “They did it. It’s perfect.”
[Terrence squeezes his wife’s shoulder reassuringly, and the scene fades to black, with one final line of audio]
Pollaski: Great! Now you just gotta keep the fuckin' thing.
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