Verizon Arena- Backstage Hallway
Little Rock, Arkansas
11:21 PM Local Time
“Excuse me” I murmured as I accidentally brushed against the stagehand carrying a large coil of cable. The man didn’t even hear me, just scurried away, off to deposit his quarry wherever. Velocity had just gone off the air from Little Rock, and once again, it was time to
pack up the show, and head out of town to the next venue. For the set, it would be on its way to my own hometown of Indianapolis in two weeks time, while the rest of us had five days to head to San Francisco.
Still, I wasn’t headed towards the exit of the arena quite yet. Instead, I walked deeper into the bowels of the building, further away from the bustle of the stagehands, towards where the trainer’s area was. It felt weird- normally I stayed clear of the medics unless I was being checked over after my own match. Nonetheless, I continued into the small room, looking around for her. And sure enough, there she was, on the examining table being looked over.
“Hey Isabella,” I said, slowly approaching her. “How are you feeling?” She glanced up at me, a pained look in her eye.
“Like some no-talent bitch just beat my ass with a kendo stick.” A slight smirk appeared on her face as she said that. “Thanks for making the save. God knows what might have happened...”
I nodded, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to her. “I’m sorry I didn’t come out sooner to stop her from interfering. I knew who you were up against, and I still wasn’t prepared to act when everything happened. I should have been more ready.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m pretty much a household name because I can take one hell of a beating. You got out there before I ended up severely mashed, that’s what’s important.” She clutched at her head while she spoke. “That was some of the crappiest officiating I’ve ever seen, just for the record. If you’re gonna cheat, at least have some subtlety. Damn amateurs...”
It felt as if there was a note of chiding in there, as if Isabella was baiting me. I didn’t take it- just smiled sympathetically. “That’s one thing anyone would agree on. Heck, Pollaski reckons that Shepherd was in on it. But it doesn’t matter now- he told me Mr. Horton fired him right after the match.”
“Good. I know a biased official when I see one. Starla should have been disqualified about six times over. I thought I taught her better than to be so blatant. Still, that’s not important. I don’t care about losing the match. What I care about is kicking the hell out of that pair of backstabbing bitches.”
“Probably won’t happen,” I muttered, although I really didn’t want to admit it. “The only time Samantha’s going to let you in that ring now, especially against Starla or another member of the A-List, is if she has something planned for you. She makes darn sure she knows where her cards are before she starts dealing.”
“I know that.” Isabella had a wicked gleam in her eye. “And maybe now you’ll see things from my perspective. If you have no chance of winning... cheat.”
I looked at her sharply, and from the smirk, I knew the reaction I had given her was exactly what she had wanted. “What’s the point? You tried it out there, and it didn’t matter at all!”
“One cheater won’t beat two cheaters. But two cheaters have a shot against two cheaters. Now you know why I play outside the rules. Screw unto others before they screw unto you. Because when you’re up against the odds, you need to break every rule in the book just to survive.”
I could feel my irritation rising in my chest. The old argument- the one that had nearly led to a falling out between us after the first Byte This- had resurfaced. “How we act under the most stressful of times is truly what defines us as a human being,” I simply replied.
“Exactly.” Her smile was even more pronounced. “Now after what you did tonight, you’re on Samantha’s hit list as much as I am. So riddle me this... do you want to win, or at least survive, or do you want them to scrape your listless body off the canvas with a spatula?”
“Of course I want to win!” I responded fiercely- a little more harsh than I had intended. “You think the A-List is the only group of bullies I’ve dealt with in my career? I’ll beat them, just as I’ve beaten anyone else who’s made the mistake of assuming that I’m weak because of what I believe.”
“You’d be the tenth or twelfth person to face Samantha with that frame of mind. Virtually no-one ever won. I know Samantha. She’s screwed me out of titles. I’ve held tag titles with her. She is the most devious mind in the game, and picks her battles carefully. We need every advantage we can get! This is no time to worry about a moral code Wendy!”
“This is every time to worry about it!” I snapped back. “We’re the good guys here! What makes us any better than they are if we stoop to their level?”
“It’ll make us less hospitalised for one thing! Listen, I just got the crap kicked out of me, and it is not a scenario I care to repeat. Okay? We have to fight fire with fire. If we do things your way, we’re just gonna get destroyed! There’s too many of them! We have to play outside the rules, trick them, and decieve them!”
“No.” I simply said, although I found myself not quite able to look at Isabella directly. “If that’s what you think you need to do, then so be it. I won’t condemn you. I won’t say anything. I’ll even run to your aid if you need it again. But... I can’t do it.”
Isabella sighed, with something of an air of defeat. “Fine. Do things your way... for now. But you’ll see in time that my way is the only way we stand a chance.”
“Or maybe you’ll see that all you do is cheapen yourself,” I responded. I was trying to keep my voice even, but I felt my face was warm, and I knew my cheeks were flushed. “Because when we do win, if we do it the right way, the honorable way, its going to make them look all the more pathetic.”
“Like I say, you’ll see in time. But right now, we’re never going to agree, so let’s just drop it.”
I nodded. “I didn’t come back here to fight about that, anyways,” I smiled ruefully. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“I’ll heal.” She nodded back. “And thank you for tonight. One way or the other, we’ll win in the end.”
“I know. Consider tonight my apology for Byte This. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that. Especially that soon after the match, and publicly, at that.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She smiled at me. “Anyway, I’ll catch you in a bit, okay? They want to finish checking me over.”
I nodded, and stood up, offering my hand to her. She clapsed it briefly, and I turned and walked out of the room. This time, I did begin making my way out towards the exit to the arena, thinking about the events of tonight. My interview with Herbie. The disastrous main event. My tussle with Jo. And lastly, my conversation with Isabella just a few minutes ago.
She was wrong. She had to be. There was a way to beat Samantha Star and her goons without resorting to tricks or deception. There had to be, and I would find it. Isabella would see- I was right.
I didn’t even want to think of what the coming weeks would entail if I wasn’t.
=================================
The following is from the private journal of Wendy Briese
12 October AD 2011
That... felt GOOD
Tonight, I won my first ever battle royal- entering fifth out of ten, and lasting over twenty minutes to get the win! Heck, I even got four eliminations! (Although, truthfully, I think I was more surprised that I eliminated Knight than she was, and Pollaski deserves a HUGE assist for helping me unhandcuff Atherton from the ropes). After having such a miserable setback at Sin & Sacrifice, it felt so good to go out and get another big win on the rebound.
Even better, it goes what I’ve been saying all along. It’s perfectly possible to get ahead in this business by playing within the rules. I did it Tuesday Night, and that was after Colleen tried to embed that cursed microphone into my brain again.
But still, my mind can’t help but fade back to that conversation I had with Isabella Pazzini last week. She’s so adamant that I’m stubbornly walking into my own demise. And I don’t think she was just trying to irritate me to prove a point (although she certainly succeeded in irritating me!). I could see it in her eyes. She was genuinely afraid for me.
Maybe it’s because Isabella hasn’t really ever known otherwise. She’s been attached to Samantha Star for so much of her career, that she can’t possibly fathom not doing things outside the parameters of what’s acceptable. She just can’t simply allow herself to believe that there’s another way, a better way. Old habits die hard, as they say. And I can’t expect one result, even a result as big as winning this battle royal, to change her mind on the matter. Patience is the key with Isabella. She’ll come around eventually.
Besides, what is it that makes people think that because I refuse to cheat in an athletic competition, that I’m utterly incapable of defending myself when it counts? I’m not an idiot- I know that there are people in this business who try and take things too far. Anyone who knows my history should know that I’m all too aware of that. Outside of those bells, I’ll do whatever I have to to defend myself or my family. I love my job, but I’m not going to die for it, nor let my family suffer for it.
And that’s the problem with the sport today. Everyone is so busy buying into their hype, we all fail to remember that we’re not warriors, or even gladiators. We’re athletes, competing in a sport that we know and love. This is a matter of pride, of winning and losing. It’s not a matter of life or death. No matter who we are, or how we do, we should be able to go home to our families at the end of the night.
And yet, I’ve seen all too many cases where that hasn’t happened, recently. Scarlett Kincaid has finally been able to talk after nearly a month being in nearly too much pain to breathe. That same incident seemingly ended the career of Rori Snyder, who was released from her contract earlier today. Sophia Black likely wrecked Gretchen Sanders career. Tara Thunder likewise with Lilah Carter.
What happened to the honor in this sport? What happened to arriving at the arena, wondering if you might win or lose, and how much the fans would enjoy your match, not whether or not this is your last match because your opponent, halfway through decided that she hadn’t had her sadistic tendencies fulfilled for the day? How much further will it be allowed to go on? Until we’re no longer athletes, but gladiators? Until this is no longer athletic competition, but pure bloodsport?
If that’s the way we’re heading, then I want no part of it.
That’s why Isabella’s way is so dangerous. It only escalates the violence, and pushes things further and further down that dangerous road. And I won’t lie, the A-List has taken a few more steps that way as well. But even they haven’t gone that far yet. I’m not afraid at the thought of facing Rose Jenkins, and I’m certainly not at the thought of facing Jo McFarlane. I simply want to get in that ring, beat them fair and square, and prove that I’m the better wrestler. Prove that all these tricks that they’re resorting to are lilttle more than smoke and mirrors to hide their ineffectiveness.
No, my way is the best way, and if Tuesday Night didn’t prove it, the next month and a half will.
-WCBT
Saturday October 15, 2011
Air Canada Centre- Briese Locker Room
Toronto, Ontario
4:13 PM Local Time
Scene is Wendy’s locker room, where the “White Knight” (although she still thoroughly hates that nickname) is sitting in a chair. She hasn’t quite changed into her ring gear yet, still dressed in a navy-blue Notre Dame sweater, and a pair of jeans. She smiles at the camera.
“So, here I am. Just four days after perhaps wrestling the best match of my FFW career, and beating nine other women in a battle royal, I try to make it two in a row against Charity Deas. Ironically, Charity is the one person in that battle royal I never actually was in the ring with during that match, due to an... unfortunate mishap on her part.”
The ‘unfortunate mishap’ being chucked over the top rope 58 seconds into the match.
“Now, I can tell that Charity is excited about tonight. It’s obvious that Charity is excited about getting into the ring with me, as she holds a lot of respect for me. You heard her earlier this week, she considers me a friend on Twitter. And despite the debacle about becoming her tag team partner, I do have to admit, she’s certainly been... pleasant towards me.”
It should be noted that Wendy almost looks as if she’s mentally mining her vocabularily, picking out one word at a time, trying to avoid saying anything that would offend her opponent, or, for that matter, encourage her into thinking that Wendy does anything more than tolerate her.
“She considers me a... um... friend. And... well... I guess.. um... ‘friends’ are honest with each other, right? So Charity, I have to be perfectly honest with you...”
There’s a pause more pregnant than Val Belmont here, and again, Wendy’s clearly mining her vocabulary for the best combination of words. But even for her, it seems to be to great a task, and she finally gives in with an exasperated shrug, and says it in the plainest way she possibly can.
“Charity, what on Earth are you doing in professional wrestling?”
Wendy still looks slightly uncomfortable, but she continues, getting more and more easy with what she’s saying- after all, she’s only being honest here.
“Look, I know you’re a nice person, and your brother is a Hall of Famer, and you look up to him, but... I mean... there are people who aren’t cut out for this sport. And, honestly? I think you’re one of them.”
A small, rueful smile.
“And I hate saying that. I’ve always believed that there is room for anyone who truly wants to be a professional wrestler. But... you. Well, let me put it this way. You were my first opponent in FFW. And about three minutes into that, I realized that you were a tune-up. Someone who was in there more to gauge my abilities than to actually give me a challenge. And if I’m truly honest, I kind of cringe looking back at that tape and realizing it took me so long to beat you...”
Wendy puffs a loose strand of red hair from her face and continues.
“And I know you’re a rookie, fresh off the Future Shock boat. But since that time, I’ve seen other Future Shock girls come in and push themselves into the title picture. Payton St. Pierre. Sophie Richards. Raven Wicked. Heck, even Desirae Kain and Arabella de Rossi have made more waves in a couple weeks than you have in the past six months.”
Noticibly missing from Wendy’s list would be Jo McFarlane. Just pointing that out. Wendy, for her part, looks half-guilty. The other half seems to be trying to keep her from sounding too condescending. She’s not exactly succeeding.
“And it’s not that you have lost match, after match, after... have you even won a singles contest since we faced? It’s that, you haven’t improved. At all. There isn’t one aspect of your game that I think is noticeably better than it was six months ago, and considering that you’re supposed to be learning the business... that’s not a good sign.”
“And honestly? I can kind of see why Allison didn’t want to team with you, although maybe a strongly worded discussion in the backstage area would have been more appropriate than what she did. The fact is... just from that one match, I could tell that it wasn’t going to work with you two. I know this sounds mean, but had you just tagged Allison in the first chance you had, that match would have been about five minutes shorter.”
Another apologetic smile.
“You dragged her down, Charity, to the point of frustration. I think you would have dragged me down, too, which is why I keep saying I was relieved when you picked Allison instead of me. And I’ve tried dropping hints before to you that maybe you’re not exactly in the best career for you, but you’ve kind of ignored them. So... I might as well say it bluntly.”
An exasperated sigh.
“Charity Deas, you’re probably the worst professional wrestler I’ve ever seen in my life.”
And there you have it, kids! Charity Deas is so bad even Wendy Briese has to admit she sucks!
“And honestly, I’m worried for you. You have heart, I’ll give you that, and I love it when someone gets up after being knocked down. But you have to be effective when you do, and... well, you really aren’t. You just simply get knocked back down again. Rinse, wash, repeat. All you’re doing is just setting yourself up for an injury.”
“Look back at your last match, Charity! The referee had to step in, because you were completely unable to defend yourself against Sophia Black. The same woman who crushed Gretchen Sanders throat, and she had you at her mercy. You could have been killed, and whatever anyone else thinks, I don’t want to see that.”
Another sigh, although this one is more of sadness than exasperation.
“Sophia’s not the only one who’ll do that. There’s so many women in this company who seem to consider a match a failure if they don’t send someone to the hospital, and I think your sister might be one of them. And I hate seeing that, but at least most of the other women in the company are capable of defending themselves so they aren’t crippled. You’re honestly an accident waiting to happen.”
“Now you know that I’m the type to take liberties on my opponent. I just want to beat you Charity, and move on to the next match against Rose. But I’m not holding back in that ring, I don’t care who it is. You step into that ring, and you agree to face me- all of me. Right on down to me making you scream and tap out in the Banshee.”
Wendy goes to stand up, grabbing her bag while she does.
“It’s time, Charity. I hate to say it, but this is one match that I already know the result of. You missed a step somewhere along the line- heck, you missed a whole flight of stairs. And I know what I’m saying is mean- but I’m getting into that ring to do the same as anyone else does- beat my opponent, physically and mentally, until I walk out the victor. There’s nothing nice about what we do. But consider it tough love, and sign that you are going to have to make a very difficult choice here soon.”
One last, rueful smile.
“Either step it up, or step on out.”
Wendy turns and walks out of the room, and the scene fades.
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