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]
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
EPISODE 68: New Year, New Beginning
Friday December 31, 2010
Thompson Family Residence- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
6:59 PM Local Time
“4...3...2...1... HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Even on the television, the sights of thousands of fireworks suddenly exploding around the River Thames was impressive enough to give me goosebumps. CNN hadn’t even bothered with the commentary, just let the sound of exploding shells tell the story. Through the rare breaks in the ‘rat-tat-tatting’ of the pyrotechnics, I could hear the throng of jubilant revelers on the shore screaming in celebration. Twenty-Eleven had come to the United Kingdom, and the British knew how to throw a party as good as any other nation in the world.
For just a second, I wished I was there, instead of my cozy suburban house in Indianapolis.
“You ready, hon?”
The voice of my husband caused me to turn my attention away from the television screen, and I smiled as Terrence walked into the room, sparing a casual glance at the television as he did so. I didn’t even bother trying to hide my surprise at his appearance. I’ve always thought my husband a handsome man, but Terrence wasn’t the kind of person who took much stock in his appearance. On most occasions, a NASCAR T-shirt and a pair of jeans suited him just fine. But this evening, he had donned a brown dress shirt and slacks, and had even bothered with a tie. It was a rare treat to see Terrence looking so debonair.
“Well, you look nice,” I commented, a clear understatement.
“As do you,” Terrence replied, quickly sweeping towards me, and grabbing me in his arms. Our lips met, for just a few seconds, and Terrence pulled away. “The only problem is, anytime I see a dress that shade of green on you, I want to rip it off.”
I gave him a reproving look, and lightly swatted him on the arm. “Well, I would appreciate some restraint in that matter. I just bought this dress, and I’d hate to ruin it my first evening in it.”
Terrence shot me that grin he always got when he knew that he was up to no good, and leaned over, stealing a kiss on my cheek. He turned towards the television, where the finale of the London celebration was playing out in specatcular fashion. “Pollaski’s late,” he remarked.
I had noticed the tardiness of my manager as well, although I hadn’t exactly felt concern over it. As great a manager as Pollaski had been for us over the years, punctuality and time management had never exactly been strong points for him. If he said he was going to be there at 7, he’d be there sometime around 7:05.
The flash of two headlights pulling into our driveway drew both of our attention to our front bay window. A turquoise 2002 Saturn LS had just pulled up into our driveway.
“Ah, there he is,” Terrence remarked, then left my side to go open the door to admit Pollaski entrance.
With our holiday vacations taking us in seperate directions, I hadn’t seen Pollaski since a couple days before Christmas, and I was surprised to see that he had changed just a bit. The most obvious change was his hair, which had been shorn close to his scalp, to the point where it was almost sticking straight up. He also looked like he had lost a bit of weight- a remarkable feat considering the amount of food one customarily ate over the Holidays.
“How was your Christmas?” he was asking Terrence as he entered the living room.
“It was good,” my husband replied, although not enthusiastically. Spending Christmas in Pennsylvania in an Amish Community hadn’t been the most appealing prospect to Terry. Nevertheless, my Auntie Margaret had been a tremendous hostess, and we had a wonderful Christmas, at least as far as I was concerned.. “How was yours?” Terrence continued, more to change the subject than out of curiosity.
“No homicides or suicides,” Pollaski grinned. “That generally amounts to a successful family gathering. Anyways, hang on, before you guys go anywhere...”
Daniel was also carrying a Rubbermaid storage container, and even from across the room, I could see the corner of a brightly wrapped package sticking up just a little over the lip of the box. Pollaski grinned at me as he set the tub down, and pulled out two, identical packages. He tossed one to me, which I barely caught. It was heavier than I had expected. The other one, he handed to Terrence.
“Merry belated Christmas,” he said.
Curious, Terrence and I quickly tore into the wrapping paper, both of us revealing small, white cardboard boxes underneath. With a quick glance at each other, we opened the box, a slight smile on my face as I wondered what might be inside.
That smile immediately disappeared, although I couldn’t tell if I was more disappointed, or just confused.
Inside the box, admist a small pile of packing peanuts, lay one of the PWX Tag Team Championships.
“Wow, Dan.. you got us title belts we already have from a now deceased company. Just what we always wanted.” The sarcasm dripping from my husband’s voice was an obvious indication that he was just as unimpressed as I was.
Pollaski was nothing if not melodramatic, and he gave a pout that would have made Heidi Montag jealous. “Those belts were merely symbolic. But fine, be ungrateful. And after all the strings I pulled to get you in, too.”
The glance that Terrence and I exchanged was a mixture of curiosity and alarm. “Get us into what?” my husband finally asked.
Pollaski beamed as if he had just discovered the cure for cancer. “Why, you’re the fourth team in the Four Store War for the Teaming Panda’s Championship!” he announced.
I didn’t understand half of what my manager had just said, and judging by my husband’s face, Terrence was likely in the same boat.
“Couldn’t you have just gotten me a new video game or something?” he muttered.
“Terrence,” I growled in a warning tone. A present was a present, and it didn’t serve to be ungrateful. Even though we weren’t entirely sure what it was that we had just received.
Terrence seemed to suddenly figure it out though, and he looked up from the box he was holding, over at Pollaski, a sudden expression of revulsion on his face.
“Wait... Teaming PANDAS? As in... Catholic PANDA Wrestling?”
Pollaski nodded, that beaming smile returning. My husband wasn’t quite so jovial about his revelation though.
“Owned by Valerie Belmont.”
Another nod. “Well, co-owned, really. With Camilla Pazzini.”
Who Valerie’s partner in crime was seemed to be little concern to Terrence. “The same Valerie Belmont who hates us?”
Pollaski paused for just a second, and a funny feeling entered my stomach. Like Terrence, I wasn’t too certain about the prospect of suddenly having Valerie Belmont as my boss.
“I wouldn’t say she HATES you. I think she actually kinda likes and respects Wendy over here, although I’m sure she still has a tough time swallowing the end of the tag title match back in PWX. She thinks YOU’RE an arrogant toerag who needs to be taken down a couple notches. But I wouldn’t call that hate.”
“Great, and what better way to take us down a couple notches than by having us as her subordinates,” Terrence grumbled.
“Valerie wouldn’t do that,” I broke in, setting the box down on an end table. “Whatever she feels about us , Val’s an honorable person.”
Terrence looked as if he was about to argue with me, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he looked at the television, where CNN had gone back to its normal broadcasting schedule. “Crap, we’re late! You ready to go, hon?”
I nodded, and Terrence reached into his pockets for his keys, only to come up empty. “Dammit. They’re in my jeans upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
Terrence quickly ran out of the room, and I turned back to Pollaski. “You sure about this?” I asked him.
Pollaski shrugged. “I was there for a couple months. It’s a good place. And whatever Val feels about you personally, she definitely knows and respects what both of you can do in the ring. And how many companies are going to give you a shot at the tag team titles in your very first match?”
I couldn’t really argue with those points. But even so, a feeling of nervousness engulfed me. It was always difficult just starting out in a new company, and I knew that I needed to badly make a strong first impression, against what would be undoubtedly the finest tag teams CPW had to offer. It was going to be a tough debut.
Pollaski broke into my thoughts. “Hey, where’s Theresa? I have a present for her too.”
“Upstairs,” I replied. “I put her down for a nap. There’d be no way she’d make it until midnight otherwise. Thanks for watching her tonight, by the way.”
“No problem,” Daniel responded with a shrug. “Really had nothing better to do anyways. And you guys need to have a fun night just to yourselves once in a while. Don’t worry about us. Should I go wake her up?”
I shrugged. “She’s been asleep for almost a couple hours now, I’m sure she’ll wake up soon anyways. But please don’t give her a present until we get back. I want to watch her open it.”
“No prob,” my manager replied. “I actually got have one for you, two. The tag title thing was just kind of a joke.”
I smiled in return, but at that moment, Terrence came bounding down the stairs, the keys to his 1971 Dodge Charger in his hands. “Okay, we REALLY need to get going now. Come on, hon!”
I grabbed my purse from the couch, and turned one last time to Pollaski. “Help yourself to whatever we have for dinner, or you can order a pizza. Terry and I will pay you back when we get home. Just… for the love of God, don’t let Theresa drink any Mountain Dew. I don’t need my daughter up all night completely wired.”
Pollaski returned a sheepish grin, and shrugged. “I won’t. Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine. You guys have a good time.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Dan.” Then I hurried after my husband into the chilly New Years Evening air.
=================Ya’ll Ready for this?=================
Wednesday January 5, 2011
Thompson Family Residence- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
7:01 PM Local Time
[So, anyone know if vampires are capable of getting indigestion?]
[‘Cause if they are, Val Belmont’s probably swigging Maalox straight from the bottle right now. One can only guess just how big a gasket the co-owner of CPW blew when she found out that her longtime nemeses from Pro-Wrestling X just signed up in her company.]
[And really, considering the scene just opened with the smirking visage of one Terrence Thompson, you can’t really blame her.]
[Anyways, we’re in what has come to be a familiar sight for fans of the WhirlyBirdz- the living room of the Thompson family residence, colloquially referred to as The Nest (y’know, cause that’s where The Birdz live). The Nest is a lovely two-story, four bedroom, three bath suburban dwelling located in the northwestern corner of Indianapolis. Terrence Thompson is sitting on the right side of the couch (as we face it), looking fairly relaxed as he smirks into the camera.]
Terrence: “So... Catholic.. Panda... Wrestling. Actually has a nice ring to it.”
[There is definite amusement in Terrence’s voice as he utters the words. It’s not really mocking, although one could probably misconstrue it as such.]
Terrence: “Ever since I found out that my manager has signed me up for this ‘Four Store War’, I’ve been taking a peek around the company. Y’know, watching old show tapes and promos, the like. And I have to say, you guys have got a pretty nice thing going on here in the CPW. Some decent talent’s been hopping in and out of the Catholic Panda ring, and I’ve got to hand it to Valerie and Cammie, they seem to have a head for this business.”
[Terrence gives a respectful nod, a silent message intended for Val and Cammie.]
Terrence: “In fact, there only seems to be one thing that CPW seemed to be missing. Something that the signing of Wendy and I will bring to the company almost immediately.”
[Small pause]
Terrence: “A sense of legitimacy.”
Female Voice: “Excuse me?”
[The camera zooms out just a bit, until the entire couch is visable. On the other side of the couch (aka, the left), sits Wendy Briese, her flame-red hair tied back in a bun, making her look even more hyperconservative than she normally is. Heck, with the stern gaze currently leveled at her husband, she’s a pair of glasses short of being a schoolteacher from the 1920’s.]
Wendy: “What exactly do you mean by that, Terrence?”
[Terrence doesn’t look all that happy to be interrupted; a mixture of chagrin and irritation, perhaps. Nevertheless, he merely shrugs, and glances over at his wife.]
Terrence: “Well, I mean, look at who they have representing them as champions. Their ‘Undisputed Panda’, so to speak, is a spazzed-out midget with a hair-dye fetish. And the ‘International Bamboo Champion’ is a cracked-out Australian who-”
Wendy: [interrupting] “New Zealander.”
[A couple beats of silence]
Terrence: “Wait.. what?”
Wendy: “Aoraki is from New Zealand, not Australia.”
Terrence: “There’s a difference?”
[Wendy looks like she’s trying valiantly to keep herself from facepalming. Or slapping her husband. Or both.]
Wendy: “Terrence, with all due respect to our northern neighbors, let me put it this way. How would you feel if someone mistakenly referred to you as a Canadian?”
[Terrence bursts out laughing]
Terrence: “Don’t be silly, Wendy. It would take a colossal idiot to mistake me for one of those vinegar-licking, syrup-sucking...”
[Wendy finally gives into her impulse to facepalm. Unfortunately, she still doesn’t slap Terrence]
Wendy: “Never mind...”
[Terrence grins at his wife. It’s a grin you’ll come to see from him often- a grin that indicates that he’s just giving his ever-rigid wife a bit of a hard time]
Terrence: “Look, hon. All I’m trying to say is that CPW is lacking that ‘it’ factor. You know, the household name that everyone can get behind. That wrestler that everyone can point to and say ‘but CPW has THEM. They’re awesome!’”
[Wendy manages to pry her hand from her face just long enough to look at her husband incredulously.]
Wendy: “And that ‘it’ is you, I assume?”
[Terrence shrugs]
Terrence: “Well, us. And why not? I mean, you don’t see any other Wrestling Channel Tag Teams of the Year signing up for this place, do you?”
[Oh come on, you knew that award was gonna be brought up sooner or later.]
Wendy: “I think maybe we should be focused on how grateful we are that we’re getting this opportunity in our very first match...”
[Terrence snorts]
Terrence: “What, between you and I, how many times have we beaten Valerie Belmont over the past eight months? She’d have to be an idiot to leave us out of this title match. She knows where the future of Catholic Panda Wrestling lies. And sticking us in a Four Store War. This match is MADE for the WhirlyBirdz, hon! They might as well hand us the belts right now because there’s no way in HELL we’re going to be losing this!”
[A short pause]
Wendy: “Do you even have any idea what a Four Store War is?”
[Another pause. For the first time, Terrence looks a little squeamish]
Terrence: “Well, um...”
[Wendy rolls her eyes, and grabs a piece of paper off the end table next to her. She begins reading from it.]
Wendy: “It’s a match taking place in four adjacent rooms set up in a square. Each team takes a room, and decides what kind of ‘store’ they want their room to be, and the rooms are set up in that fashion. As for the match itself, each team starts in their own store, but once it begins, we’re free to move from rooom to room. It’s a standard no-disqualification match, fought to a single fall.”
[Terrence pauses, for just a second, some weird expression on his face.]
Terrence: “That’s... actually... a really cool idea.”
[Wendy shrugs. It’s no secret that she’d much prefer a straight up match in the ring. Nevertheless, she doesn’t fail to see the appeal in this]
Terrence: “Auto-parts store.”
Wendy: “Pardon?”
Terrence: “Our store. I want it to be an auto-parts shop. Like NAPA. Or O’Reilly’s. One of those!”
[Terrence picking something to do with cars. There’s the shock of the century.]
[Nevertheless, Wendy doesn’t appear too happy about this]
Wendy: “Don’t you think we should talk about this before deciding?”
Terrence: “Well, what would you care? It’s not like you’d use anything as a weapon anyways.”
[This is said as a simple statement of fact, not judgmental at all. Although Terrence has tried, on several occasions, to try and get Wendy over her aversion to using weapons in matches where they’re allowed.]
Wendy: “I know. It’s just... coming from you, that seems a little cliche.”
[Terrence shrugs, then reaches over, and grabs Wendy’s hand, taking it in his.]
Terrence: “Just trust me on this, hon. I already have a plan forming in my mind. But it’s only gonna work if we go with my idea. So, let’s just do it, okay?”
[Wendy pauses for just a second, then nods, acquiescing the decision to her husband. In truth, Terrence was right, as far as the match went, whatever store it would be would be irrelevant to her. She’ll win this match relying on the three things she always does- her wits, her skills, and her heart.]
Wendy: “Okay, we’ll go with that. What’s your plan?”
[Terrence grins, and points over at the camera.]
Terrence: “Probably shouldn’t tell you with that thing on. Again, you just have to trust me, hon. What I have in mind is going to make the twelfth episode of Zoo a good night for us. A VERY good night for us.”
[Wendy arches an eyebrow, and crosses her arms over her chest, looking both amused and bemused]
Wendy: “Should I be worried?”
[Terrence smirks evilly, and turns his head ever so slightly to look back at the camera.]
Terrence: “Hon... EVERYONE should be worried.”
[And with that, and for now, we fade to black]
Thompson Family Residence- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
6:59 PM Local Time
“4...3...2...1... HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
Even on the television, the sights of thousands of fireworks suddenly exploding around the River Thames was impressive enough to give me goosebumps. CNN hadn’t even bothered with the commentary, just let the sound of exploding shells tell the story. Through the rare breaks in the ‘rat-tat-tatting’ of the pyrotechnics, I could hear the throng of jubilant revelers on the shore screaming in celebration. Twenty-Eleven had come to the United Kingdom, and the British knew how to throw a party as good as any other nation in the world.
For just a second, I wished I was there, instead of my cozy suburban house in Indianapolis.
“You ready, hon?”
The voice of my husband caused me to turn my attention away from the television screen, and I smiled as Terrence walked into the room, sparing a casual glance at the television as he did so. I didn’t even bother trying to hide my surprise at his appearance. I’ve always thought my husband a handsome man, but Terrence wasn’t the kind of person who took much stock in his appearance. On most occasions, a NASCAR T-shirt and a pair of jeans suited him just fine. But this evening, he had donned a brown dress shirt and slacks, and had even bothered with a tie. It was a rare treat to see Terrence looking so debonair.
“Well, you look nice,” I commented, a clear understatement.
“As do you,” Terrence replied, quickly sweeping towards me, and grabbing me in his arms. Our lips met, for just a few seconds, and Terrence pulled away. “The only problem is, anytime I see a dress that shade of green on you, I want to rip it off.”
I gave him a reproving look, and lightly swatted him on the arm. “Well, I would appreciate some restraint in that matter. I just bought this dress, and I’d hate to ruin it my first evening in it.”
Terrence shot me that grin he always got when he knew that he was up to no good, and leaned over, stealing a kiss on my cheek. He turned towards the television, where the finale of the London celebration was playing out in specatcular fashion. “Pollaski’s late,” he remarked.
I had noticed the tardiness of my manager as well, although I hadn’t exactly felt concern over it. As great a manager as Pollaski had been for us over the years, punctuality and time management had never exactly been strong points for him. If he said he was going to be there at 7, he’d be there sometime around 7:05.
The flash of two headlights pulling into our driveway drew both of our attention to our front bay window. A turquoise 2002 Saturn LS had just pulled up into our driveway.
“Ah, there he is,” Terrence remarked, then left my side to go open the door to admit Pollaski entrance.
With our holiday vacations taking us in seperate directions, I hadn’t seen Pollaski since a couple days before Christmas, and I was surprised to see that he had changed just a bit. The most obvious change was his hair, which had been shorn close to his scalp, to the point where it was almost sticking straight up. He also looked like he had lost a bit of weight- a remarkable feat considering the amount of food one customarily ate over the Holidays.
“How was your Christmas?” he was asking Terrence as he entered the living room.
“It was good,” my husband replied, although not enthusiastically. Spending Christmas in Pennsylvania in an Amish Community hadn’t been the most appealing prospect to Terry. Nevertheless, my Auntie Margaret had been a tremendous hostess, and we had a wonderful Christmas, at least as far as I was concerned.. “How was yours?” Terrence continued, more to change the subject than out of curiosity.
“No homicides or suicides,” Pollaski grinned. “That generally amounts to a successful family gathering. Anyways, hang on, before you guys go anywhere...”
Daniel was also carrying a Rubbermaid storage container, and even from across the room, I could see the corner of a brightly wrapped package sticking up just a little over the lip of the box. Pollaski grinned at me as he set the tub down, and pulled out two, identical packages. He tossed one to me, which I barely caught. It was heavier than I had expected. The other one, he handed to Terrence.
“Merry belated Christmas,” he said.
Curious, Terrence and I quickly tore into the wrapping paper, both of us revealing small, white cardboard boxes underneath. With a quick glance at each other, we opened the box, a slight smile on my face as I wondered what might be inside.
That smile immediately disappeared, although I couldn’t tell if I was more disappointed, or just confused.
Inside the box, admist a small pile of packing peanuts, lay one of the PWX Tag Team Championships.
“Wow, Dan.. you got us title belts we already have from a now deceased company. Just what we always wanted.” The sarcasm dripping from my husband’s voice was an obvious indication that he was just as unimpressed as I was.
Pollaski was nothing if not melodramatic, and he gave a pout that would have made Heidi Montag jealous. “Those belts were merely symbolic. But fine, be ungrateful. And after all the strings I pulled to get you in, too.”
The glance that Terrence and I exchanged was a mixture of curiosity and alarm. “Get us into what?” my husband finally asked.
Pollaski beamed as if he had just discovered the cure for cancer. “Why, you’re the fourth team in the Four Store War for the Teaming Panda’s Championship!” he announced.
I didn’t understand half of what my manager had just said, and judging by my husband’s face, Terrence was likely in the same boat.
“Couldn’t you have just gotten me a new video game or something?” he muttered.
“Terrence,” I growled in a warning tone. A present was a present, and it didn’t serve to be ungrateful. Even though we weren’t entirely sure what it was that we had just received.
Terrence seemed to suddenly figure it out though, and he looked up from the box he was holding, over at Pollaski, a sudden expression of revulsion on his face.
“Wait... Teaming PANDAS? As in... Catholic PANDA Wrestling?”
Pollaski nodded, that beaming smile returning. My husband wasn’t quite so jovial about his revelation though.
“Owned by Valerie Belmont.”
Another nod. “Well, co-owned, really. With Camilla Pazzini.”
Who Valerie’s partner in crime was seemed to be little concern to Terrence. “The same Valerie Belmont who hates us?”
Pollaski paused for just a second, and a funny feeling entered my stomach. Like Terrence, I wasn’t too certain about the prospect of suddenly having Valerie Belmont as my boss.
“I wouldn’t say she HATES you. I think she actually kinda likes and respects Wendy over here, although I’m sure she still has a tough time swallowing the end of the tag title match back in PWX. She thinks YOU’RE an arrogant toerag who needs to be taken down a couple notches. But I wouldn’t call that hate.”
“Great, and what better way to take us down a couple notches than by having us as her subordinates,” Terrence grumbled.
“Valerie wouldn’t do that,” I broke in, setting the box down on an end table. “Whatever she feels about us , Val’s an honorable person.”
Terrence looked as if he was about to argue with me, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he looked at the television, where CNN had gone back to its normal broadcasting schedule. “Crap, we’re late! You ready to go, hon?”
I nodded, and Terrence reached into his pockets for his keys, only to come up empty. “Dammit. They’re in my jeans upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
Terrence quickly ran out of the room, and I turned back to Pollaski. “You sure about this?” I asked him.
Pollaski shrugged. “I was there for a couple months. It’s a good place. And whatever Val feels about you personally, she definitely knows and respects what both of you can do in the ring. And how many companies are going to give you a shot at the tag team titles in your very first match?”
I couldn’t really argue with those points. But even so, a feeling of nervousness engulfed me. It was always difficult just starting out in a new company, and I knew that I needed to badly make a strong first impression, against what would be undoubtedly the finest tag teams CPW had to offer. It was going to be a tough debut.
Pollaski broke into my thoughts. “Hey, where’s Theresa? I have a present for her too.”
“Upstairs,” I replied. “I put her down for a nap. There’d be no way she’d make it until midnight otherwise. Thanks for watching her tonight, by the way.”
“No problem,” Daniel responded with a shrug. “Really had nothing better to do anyways. And you guys need to have a fun night just to yourselves once in a while. Don’t worry about us. Should I go wake her up?”
I shrugged. “She’s been asleep for almost a couple hours now, I’m sure she’ll wake up soon anyways. But please don’t give her a present until we get back. I want to watch her open it.”
“No prob,” my manager replied. “I actually got have one for you, two. The tag title thing was just kind of a joke.”
I smiled in return, but at that moment, Terrence came bounding down the stairs, the keys to his 1971 Dodge Charger in his hands. “Okay, we REALLY need to get going now. Come on, hon!”
I grabbed my purse from the couch, and turned one last time to Pollaski. “Help yourself to whatever we have for dinner, or you can order a pizza. Terry and I will pay you back when we get home. Just… for the love of God, don’t let Theresa drink any Mountain Dew. I don’t need my daughter up all night completely wired.”
Pollaski returned a sheepish grin, and shrugged. “I won’t. Don’t worry about us, we’ll be fine. You guys have a good time.”
I smiled. “Thanks, Dan.” Then I hurried after my husband into the chilly New Years Evening air.
=================Ya’ll Ready for this?=================
Wednesday January 5, 2011
Thompson Family Residence- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
7:01 PM Local Time
[So, anyone know if vampires are capable of getting indigestion?]
[‘Cause if they are, Val Belmont’s probably swigging Maalox straight from the bottle right now. One can only guess just how big a gasket the co-owner of CPW blew when she found out that her longtime nemeses from Pro-Wrestling X just signed up in her company.]
[And really, considering the scene just opened with the smirking visage of one Terrence Thompson, you can’t really blame her.]
[Anyways, we’re in what has come to be a familiar sight for fans of the WhirlyBirdz- the living room of the Thompson family residence, colloquially referred to as The Nest (y’know, cause that’s where The Birdz live). The Nest is a lovely two-story, four bedroom, three bath suburban dwelling located in the northwestern corner of Indianapolis. Terrence Thompson is sitting on the right side of the couch (as we face it), looking fairly relaxed as he smirks into the camera.]
Terrence: “So... Catholic.. Panda... Wrestling. Actually has a nice ring to it.”
[There is definite amusement in Terrence’s voice as he utters the words. It’s not really mocking, although one could probably misconstrue it as such.]
Terrence: “Ever since I found out that my manager has signed me up for this ‘Four Store War’, I’ve been taking a peek around the company. Y’know, watching old show tapes and promos, the like. And I have to say, you guys have got a pretty nice thing going on here in the CPW. Some decent talent’s been hopping in and out of the Catholic Panda ring, and I’ve got to hand it to Valerie and Cammie, they seem to have a head for this business.”
[Terrence gives a respectful nod, a silent message intended for Val and Cammie.]
Terrence: “In fact, there only seems to be one thing that CPW seemed to be missing. Something that the signing of Wendy and I will bring to the company almost immediately.”
[Small pause]
Terrence: “A sense of legitimacy.”
Female Voice: “Excuse me?”
[The camera zooms out just a bit, until the entire couch is visable. On the other side of the couch (aka, the left), sits Wendy Briese, her flame-red hair tied back in a bun, making her look even more hyperconservative than she normally is. Heck, with the stern gaze currently leveled at her husband, she’s a pair of glasses short of being a schoolteacher from the 1920’s.]
Wendy: “What exactly do you mean by that, Terrence?”
[Terrence doesn’t look all that happy to be interrupted; a mixture of chagrin and irritation, perhaps. Nevertheless, he merely shrugs, and glances over at his wife.]
Terrence: “Well, I mean, look at who they have representing them as champions. Their ‘Undisputed Panda’, so to speak, is a spazzed-out midget with a hair-dye fetish. And the ‘International Bamboo Champion’ is a cracked-out Australian who-”
Wendy: [interrupting] “New Zealander.”
[A couple beats of silence]
Terrence: “Wait.. what?”
Wendy: “Aoraki is from New Zealand, not Australia.”
Terrence: “There’s a difference?”
[Wendy looks like she’s trying valiantly to keep herself from facepalming. Or slapping her husband. Or both.]
Wendy: “Terrence, with all due respect to our northern neighbors, let me put it this way. How would you feel if someone mistakenly referred to you as a Canadian?”
[Terrence bursts out laughing]
Terrence: “Don’t be silly, Wendy. It would take a colossal idiot to mistake me for one of those vinegar-licking, syrup-sucking...”
[Wendy finally gives into her impulse to facepalm. Unfortunately, she still doesn’t slap Terrence]
Wendy: “Never mind...”
[Terrence grins at his wife. It’s a grin you’ll come to see from him often- a grin that indicates that he’s just giving his ever-rigid wife a bit of a hard time]
Terrence: “Look, hon. All I’m trying to say is that CPW is lacking that ‘it’ factor. You know, the household name that everyone can get behind. That wrestler that everyone can point to and say ‘but CPW has THEM. They’re awesome!’”
[Wendy manages to pry her hand from her face just long enough to look at her husband incredulously.]
Wendy: “And that ‘it’ is you, I assume?”
[Terrence shrugs]
Terrence: “Well, us. And why not? I mean, you don’t see any other Wrestling Channel Tag Teams of the Year signing up for this place, do you?”
[Oh come on, you knew that award was gonna be brought up sooner or later.]
Wendy: “I think maybe we should be focused on how grateful we are that we’re getting this opportunity in our very first match...”
[Terrence snorts]
Terrence: “What, between you and I, how many times have we beaten Valerie Belmont over the past eight months? She’d have to be an idiot to leave us out of this title match. She knows where the future of Catholic Panda Wrestling lies. And sticking us in a Four Store War. This match is MADE for the WhirlyBirdz, hon! They might as well hand us the belts right now because there’s no way in HELL we’re going to be losing this!”
[A short pause]
Wendy: “Do you even have any idea what a Four Store War is?”
[Another pause. For the first time, Terrence looks a little squeamish]
Terrence: “Well, um...”
[Wendy rolls her eyes, and grabs a piece of paper off the end table next to her. She begins reading from it.]
Wendy: “It’s a match taking place in four adjacent rooms set up in a square. Each team takes a room, and decides what kind of ‘store’ they want their room to be, and the rooms are set up in that fashion. As for the match itself, each team starts in their own store, but once it begins, we’re free to move from rooom to room. It’s a standard no-disqualification match, fought to a single fall.”
[Terrence pauses, for just a second, some weird expression on his face.]
Terrence: “That’s... actually... a really cool idea.”
[Wendy shrugs. It’s no secret that she’d much prefer a straight up match in the ring. Nevertheless, she doesn’t fail to see the appeal in this]
Terrence: “Auto-parts store.”
Wendy: “Pardon?”
Terrence: “Our store. I want it to be an auto-parts shop. Like NAPA. Or O’Reilly’s. One of those!”
[Terrence picking something to do with cars. There’s the shock of the century.]
[Nevertheless, Wendy doesn’t appear too happy about this]
Wendy: “Don’t you think we should talk about this before deciding?”
Terrence: “Well, what would you care? It’s not like you’d use anything as a weapon anyways.”
[This is said as a simple statement of fact, not judgmental at all. Although Terrence has tried, on several occasions, to try and get Wendy over her aversion to using weapons in matches where they’re allowed.]
Wendy: “I know. It’s just... coming from you, that seems a little cliche.”
[Terrence shrugs, then reaches over, and grabs Wendy’s hand, taking it in his.]
Terrence: “Just trust me on this, hon. I already have a plan forming in my mind. But it’s only gonna work if we go with my idea. So, let’s just do it, okay?”
[Wendy pauses for just a second, then nods, acquiescing the decision to her husband. In truth, Terrence was right, as far as the match went, whatever store it would be would be irrelevant to her. She’ll win this match relying on the three things she always does- her wits, her skills, and her heart.]
Wendy: “Okay, we’ll go with that. What’s your plan?”
[Terrence grins, and points over at the camera.]
Terrence: “Probably shouldn’t tell you with that thing on. Again, you just have to trust me, hon. What I have in mind is going to make the twelfth episode of Zoo a good night for us. A VERY good night for us.”
[Wendy arches an eyebrow, and crosses her arms over her chest, looking both amused and bemused]
Wendy: “Should I be worried?”
[Terrence smirks evilly, and turns his head ever so slightly to look back at the camera.]
Terrence: “Hon... EVERYONE should be worried.”
[And with that, and for now, we fade to black]
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