Sunday January 2, 2010
Speed City Gym & Training Center
Indianapolis, Indiana
10:55 AM Local Time
I groaned with dismay as I looked down at the snug-fitting apparel I had just put on. Either my Notre Dame t-shirt had shrunk over the last couple of weeks, or I had put on a few pounds over the Christmas hiatus.
Considering the excellent cooking I had been subjected to at my Auntie Margaret’s house, I was willing to bet on the latter.
Shaking my head in disgust with myself, I grabbed my elastic from my duffel bag, and tied my hair back, fitting it into its pony tail. Quickly sliding on my gloves, and tightening the Velcro, I turned to the locker room’s mirror, and regarded my reflection.
Considering that I had taken practically the entire month of December off, I couldn’t be too upset about my appearance. I might not have been vigilantly training over those few weeks, and I had certainly put on a few pounds, but I was still in great shape- nothing a good hard week’s training in the gym couldn’t fix.
I couldn’t help but smile in pride. Considering I’d seen nearly thirty years, about two hundred fifty wrestling matches, and gone through childbirth, I looked pretty darn good!
Pulling myself from my moment of vanity, I glanced up at the locker room’s clock. 10:57... our hour of ring time was about to start. I’d better get going. I quickly threw my street clothes into my duffel bag, and flung it into my locker, snapping on my combo lock, and heading out the door.
As I walked through the maze of stair-climbers and Nautilus weight machines, towards the ring in the center of the room, I was surprised to see that neither Pollaski, Terrence, or any of our usual training partner’s were inside the ring. Neither, however, was the ring empty. A lone woman stood in the ring, her long back hair tied behind her. She was wearing a sports-bra style top, and full legnth tights, along with a pair of boots and gloves that extended halfway up to her elbow. As I got closer, I could tell that she was of an Asian heritage... possibly Japanese?
I recognized the lone symbol on the outside of the left leg of her tights as kanji, confirming my suspicion, and I broke into a grin, my heart immediately pumping just a bit harder. I had the greatest of respect for the practitioners of joshi puroesu, the women wrestlers of Japan. Nine years ago, when I was learning to wrestle, I had watched endless tapes of matches, awestruck by their athleticism and acrobatics. Perhaps second only to my idol Velvet McIntyre, I had drawn inspiration from them. And even though my wrestling-style was decisively more on the American side, I knew a lot of the moves in my arsenal had originated on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.
But despite my influences, and the fact that I had competed several times in Japan, I had never faced a joshi in a wrestling match. I had faced several Japanese men, most notably the tag team of the Rising Suns from the old NGWA, but never, to the best of my knowledge, a woman.
In short, today was going to be quite the treat!
I knew I was positively beaming as I approached ringside, and I looked up at the ring. I was surprised to see the woman was staring at me, with such a cold intensity on her face that I felt my smile slip just a fraction. She never looked away, even for a second, as I walked up to my manager and husband, still standing at ringside.
My surprises kept coming- Terrence hadn’t even bothered changing into his workout clothes. He remained in his jeans and winter coat, talking idly with Pollaski as he leaned against a nearby weight machine. This annoyed me somewhat- not only was I competing in X3W, but we had a tag team match in Catholic Panda Wrestling that we both needed to get ready for.
“Terry, why aren’t you dressed?” I demanded, probably a little harsher than I had intended to.
Both men broke off their conversation to regard me. Terrence smiled at me, almost apologetically. “Pollaski said he wanted just you in there,” he explained with a shrug.
Pollaski’s nod confirmed my husband’s assessment. “Just you in with Megumi today,” he said, jerking his tumb up at the ring. I looked up at my training partner, and saw that she was still staring at me, the intensity in her eyes evident. A little bit of trepidation entered into me. She knew that this was just a practice match, right?
Nevertheless, I climbed the ringside steps, and retreated to a corner, while Megumi slowly walked to the corner across from me. She was definitely smaller than me... maybe six inches shorter, and she couldn’t have weighed too much more than a hundred pounds. If not for the perpetual glare she had fixed upon me, she might have been considered pretty, but other than the intensity and determination in her eyes, her face held no expression, no emotion. Maybe I shouldn’t have been disconcerted, but I definitely was.
Pollaski hadn’t climbed into the ring after me- another deviation from our normal routine. Instead, he merely stood on the outside, and blew the whistle around his neck, signifying the start of the training match. I took a deep breath, and stepped away from my corner. I had almost expected Megumi to run right at me, but instead she calmly walked to the center of the ring, her arms remaining at her side. I slowly began to circle, testing my balance as I tried to regain my rhythm after a such a long hiatus. Megumi didn’t circle with me, just turned to follow my movements, her eyes darting back and forth, trying to anticipate my first attack, but remaining motionless otherwise.
I smiled a weak smile, and nodded at my opponent. “I’ve never faced a joshi before. It’s an honor,” I commented, all the while looking for an opening. If Megumi even heard me, she didn’t indicate it.
But Pollaski had heard me, and he responded, almost in a singsong tone. “Oh, Megumi’s not a wrestler, Wendy. She’s a kunoichi.”
At the strange word, I stepped back, and turned to my side to regard my manager. “A what?”
I would later learn that kunoichi was a Japanese term for a female ninja. Had I known that, I would have probably realized that taking my gaze from her to look at Pollaski, no matter how briefly, was the single dumbest thing I could have done. With the knowledge I currently held in that ring, however, I was quite surprised when the back of my head exploded in almost unendurable pain.
I cried out in both alarm and pain, and staggered forward. Rubbing the back of my head, I took a couple steps to steady myself, and turned to regard Megumi. I don’t even know where she had gotten it from, but she was holding a bamboo katana in both of her hands.
And she was rushing in at me, ready to strike again.
“W...wait!” I managed to squeak out, before the next sword strike swung in, smashing into my right thigh. I yelped again, but had no time to react otherwise as the smaller woman spun around, and slashed her sword again, this time into my left chest. She then quickly retracted the sword, aimed it right at my navel, and plunged it in with all the force she could muster.
I could do little more than wheeze as every molecule of oxygen was forced from my lungs as I folded over the sword. Holding my stomach in agony, I collapsed to my knees, then face first onto the canvas. Painfully, I managed to shoot a pleading look to the outside. Terrence looked astonished at the beating his wife was taking, and he looked almost ready to dive into the ring, and break it up. However, Pollaski had grabbed his arm, his face completely impassive. Obviously, he had convinced my worried husband that everything was under control.
Then I felt the sword crashing into my lower back, adding a fifth place on my body that was now screaming in pain.
Desperate, I reached up for the nearby middle rope, and tried to haul myself to my feet. Another strike connected with my upper back, but I managed to keep my balance, and get to my feet. My head was spinning, my legs were wobbly, and there wasn’t a part of me that wasn’t aching. I’d been through hour-long matches and felt better than I did after three minutes in the ring with this woman.
Megumi wasn’t giving me time to let up, and she was rushing in again. This time, she slashed horizontally, again, going for my neck. I leapt back, narrowly avoiding the blow, but my unsteady legs tangled in themselves, and I pitched backwards, landing hard on my rump, and smacking my head on the bottom turnbuckle. My vision went black for just a second, and then there were two Megumi’s slowly stalking me across the ring, and each one was swaying back and forth, like a dancer in a mirage.
A very real, very deadly mirage.
The dual-Megumi’s were smirking in triumph as they stood over me, and they both pulled back the bamboo sword, preparing to drive it into my face.
With no other options, I pitched myself to the side, wincing at the ropes brushed against my face, rubbing them sore. But I heard Megumi’s grunt of frustration as the sword stabbed the turnbuckle pad. Still off balance, I fell sideways, and rolled onto my back. Megumi quickly recovered, and aimed her sword, again aiming for my face. With no other options, I kicked out, hearing a rewarding grunt as my feet hit her hands, causing her to lose her grip. The katana flew a short ways. Muttering what I was certain were Japanese curse words, my opponent ran to retrieve the sword. I used the brief moment I had to scramble to my feet. My vision still swimming, I tried to reassess my situation.
Not good, I realized. My disarming of Megumi had only bought me a couple seconds, and I was definitely one or two good hits away from going down, and never getting back up. But Pollaski hadn’t made any movement to stop this onslaught, and I doubted he would. Terrence remained rooted on the outside, convinced my idiot manager knew what he was doing. And even if I had any idea how to say ‘stop hitting me with the sword, you psychotic freak!’ in Japanese, I doubt Megumi was going to listen.
In short, I was on my own here.
I closed my eyes, and shook my head, trying to clear my vision. I was grateful that when I opened, them, there now only one Megumi in the ring. She had retrieved the sword, and coming at me again. She swung at me with a vertical slash, but I managed to dodge it. My feet got tangled again, but I managed to keep my balance. Another slash, and I backed out of the way. I ducked a high horizontal strike, then spun away from a diagonal.
As I dodged each of the strikes, I began to notice something. Catching me off-guard, Megumi had managed to do a lot of damage, but I doubted that she was a true expert of the sword. Her swings had just a bit too much momentum to them- every miss threw her slightly off balance. Suddenly, a plan began to form in my punch-drunk mind. If I could just dodge a few more...
I wheeled away from another strike, and another. All the while, I kept backing away, slowly but surely. Suddenly, as I dodged another slash, I felt my back brush against the ring ropes. Megumi swung again, and I managed to barely spin out of the way. Her sword, however, glanced off the ropes, throwing off her momentum just slightly.
It was all I needed.
With a roar, I charged forward, catching my arm across Megumi’s neck, and sweeping her legs out from under her at the same time. The kunoichi yelped as she smashed into the mat in the STO, me falling on top of her.
I had her dazed for just a second, so I looked over my shoulder. There was the infernal sword, lying at the edge of the ring. I kicked out with my boot, and slid it the rest of the way, the weapon falling to the floor at ringside.
Megumi was trying to get to her feet, but I dove at her, tackling her down. She struggled against me, but I immediately began to realize that whatever her skills were with a sword, the girl had absolutely no experience in hand to hand grappling.
I couldn’t help but smile. Welcome to my world now!
I tried to pin Megumi’s shoulders town, hoping that would be enough to end the ‘match’, but Megumi managed to struggle just enough to throw me slightly off balance. She spun around on the ground, giving me her back in an effort to avoid the pin.
No matter, a simple sleeper hold or cobra clutch would put this away nicely.
But Megumi managed to plant both her hands and knees on the mat, and with a grunt of exertion, managed to lift herself, and me, to all fours- a remarkable feat considering that I was likely a good thirty pounds heavier. In danger of losing my balance, I instinctively dropped both my feet to the mat for balance- a mistake, since it removed a good portion of my weight from her back. She’d have a much easier time regaining her feet now.
I couldn’t afford to let that happen.
Thinking quickly, I grabbed her right arm, and wrenched it backwards. Without that arm to balance her, Megumi pitched head first into the mat, shreiking as gravity forced her arm further behind her. With her stunned, I had no problem grabbing her left as well. I quickly dug my knee into the small of her back, and leaned backwards- a modified surfboard submission.
Megumi screamed in pain, and yelled something in Japanese. Immediately Pollaski’s whistle blew, singifying the end of the session. For a second, I was tempted to keep the hold on a little longer, maybe even wrench back further and dislocate one of her shoulders. But I took pride in not taking liberties with my training partners, and I knew for a fact that it hadn’t been Megumi’s idea to come at me with a wooden sword.
As I released the hold, and got to my feet, I wondered just how guilty I’d feel if I dislocated Pollaski’s shoulder instead.
I walked a short lap around the ring, trying to work out the stiffness and soreness that had come into my muscles, all the while gritting my teeth, both in pain and irritation. As I finally rolled out of the ring, I could see my husband’s face- a mixture of concern and relief. Somehow he had managed to procure an icepack, which he offered me. I took it, although I had no idea where I was going to place it first.
Pollaski had broken into a slow applause, and was smiling at me. “Well done there, Wendy!” he beamed, then paused for a second, looking pensive. “Of course, had that been a REAL katana, you’d have been decapitated in about twenty seconds.”
“Really?” I seethed, holding the ice pack to the back of my head. I was still out of breath, so it took a while for me to be able to speak more. It was probably a good thing- words I didn’t even know were in my vocabulary were at the tip of my tongue that moment.
Pollaski shrugged, and leaned up against the ring apron, as if what he had just seen was the most natural thing in the world. “But really, I have to wonder, Wendy. What is it about me that’s so attractive that makes you keep looking at me? I must know, so I can use it on women that aren’t taken by my best friend.”
Despite the beating I had just taken, or perhaps even because of it, my fingers had curled into talons, and I was preparing to strangle the smug obese young man standing in front of me. “I do NOT keep looking at you.” I replied through gritted teeth.
That smirk on Pollaski’s face only widened, further chafing at my raw nerves. “Really? Well, then kindly answer me this: where were you looking the first time Megumi’s sword smashed into you?”
I nodded, conceding the point. “Okay, fine. ONE time I looked at you. But that’s only because you said some word I didn’t under-”
Pollaski cut me off. “And where were you looking when Kenneth Rockwell hit the Check Mark?”
I froze. Every word that I was tempted to scream at my manager had been suddenly wiped from my brain. I could only open my mouth, then close it, like a fish on dry land gasping for air. That infernal, annoying smirk of Pollaski’s only widened, making him look like a toad that had just managed to nab a particularly juicy fly.
I had finally found my voice. “You fell hard off the apron. I was worried if you were okay.”
“So let me get this straight,” Pollaski said slowly. “Veronika hops up onto the apron, and starts trying to distract you. I do my job, and distract HER, and get her off the goddamned apron. So essentially, everything is going to plan, and you’re suddenly WORRIED?”
I gritted my teeth again. But I knew it wasn’t because of the mocking smile on my manager’s face. I was irritated because I knew he was right. That smirk disappeared a second later, and Pollaski turned back to me, his expression completely serious.
“Today you’re training for your second round match against Psycho Soldier, Wendy,” Pollaski began. “But you better realize just how damn lucky you are to be here. Because if Kenneth Rockwell had been smart enough to drag you a couple feet away from the ropes, you’d be getting ready for a significantly less-appealing match right now.”
I stared back at Pollaski, but there was no challenge in my glare. All the mocking was gone from his tone- it was rare when Pollaski turned this serious in his approach to managing us, I’d discovered over the years that when he got like this, there was generally a very good reason behind it. Terrence had draped his arm around my back, and squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. There was no reassurance to be found in Pollaski’s next words, however.
“Now, I’m sure Megumi whacking you with that stick a couple times hurt like hell, but I guarantee you one thing- that’s NOTHING compared to having a branding iron jammed into your face. That’s exactly what happened to the last guy Psycho Soldier beat, Wendy. And I doubt you’d look good showing up at mass with an upside down cross burned into your forehead, either.”
I looked away, swallowing the bile that threatened to rise from my stomach. Like Pollaski, I had seen that match, and I knew the contest had been the culmination of a rivalry between Soldier and his opponent. But still, the thought of being permanently disfigured by something so sinister... I involuntarily shuddered.
Pollaski didn’t fail to notice my gesture. “Think on that, Wendy. There’s a damn good reason Psycho Soldier got one of the two first round byes. And he’s been sitting on the shelf for about two and a half months now, ever since EPW closed. That’s a long time to be out of action, especially for someone with a penchant for violence like him. You’re going to be the first person to step in the ring with him, the first person he can unleash that fury upon. If you’re caught looking at me, or Terrence or any other motherfucker on this planet besides Psycho Soldier, I don’t know if we’ll be able to bring all the pieces of you back from Miami with us.”
I could feel Terrence stiffen next to me,and I knew that Pollaski’s choice of words had affected him just as much as they had me. The blood in my veins had turned to ice at Pollaski’s words, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to nod. “Duly noted,” I managed to croak- my mouth had gone completely dry.
“Good.” Pollaski smiled- not the mocking smirk he had given me earlier, but a genuine one. One that expressed concern for a friend, and relief that desperate advice had been taken. “Now, that’s all I had planned for you today. If you want to hit the treadmill, and burn off some of your Christmas calories, that’s up to you. Personally, I think you better take it easy, and come back tomorrow well rested.”
I nodded. I didn’t think I could make it five steps on a treadmill before my legs gave out. I glanced back up at the ring. Megumi had regained her feet, and once again stood in the center of the ring. She was staring at me again, but gone was the intense glare. Instead, she looked almost sullen, as if ashamed that she hadn’t been able to beat me.
I forced myself to laugh, and turned back to Pollaski. “So, is that why you put me up to this exercise? To remind me not to lose my focus, no matter what happens around me?”
“In part.” Pollaski shrugged, then broke into a grin. “I also had a twenty dollar bet with this guy that a ninja couldn’t beat a pro-wrestler. Needless to say, I won.”
Surprisingly, I was more amused by that comment than angered. “So Megumi is really a ninja?” I asked, remembering the mistakes in her momentum when she came at me with the sword.
“Well, she’s still a student, although one of the best in the class, from what I told.” Pollaski replied with a shrug. “We decided that using a ninjitsu-master might be a little on the dangerous side.”
For once, as I looked back up at the statuesque form of Megumi, her eyes still fixated upon me, I had to agree.
========================================
Sunday January 9, 2010
The RV- Main Cabin
Santa Monica, California
3:10 PM Local Time
[Well, luckily for Wendy, the bumps and bruises she had sustained thanks to her manager’s little stunt healed up in a day or two. She was back in the ring, the next day (against a partner who wasn’t trying to kill her), preparing for her upcoming slate of matches. It’s been a tough, yet ]
[The scene opens in the main cabin of the WhirlyBirdz RV, a luxurious Newmar King Aire motorhome. With her husband, daughter, manager, and nanny all off running errands, Wendy’s finally gotten some time to herself, to concentrate on her upcoming challenges. As such, she’s sitting on the sofa, towards the rear of the cabin, the camera placed about four or five feet away from her.]
“Sorry for keeping everyone waiting.”
[An apologetic smile]
“Unfortunately, even before agreed to participate in this tournament, I had a prior engagement I had no hope of getting out of. I had spoken to Mr. Talinsdale about it when I signed up, and he assured me that he would make the appropriate accomodations should the necessity arise. I would like to thank Mr. Talinsdale for keeping his word on the matter, and I apologize to Psycho Soldier for delaying his long-awaited debut.”
[Wendy’s smile suddenly widens, until she’s beaming]
“However, one great thing did come out of this long hiatus. After careful deliberation with both my manager and my family, I’ve decided to join X3W as a full member of the roster. I signed my contract just before Christmas, and I’m looking forward to making this company my new wrestling home.”
[Even better for X3W, Wendy was the last ‘guest’ participant in the tournament, which means that the first champion will be a member of the roster! Hooray for legitimacy!]
“The decision was a relatively easy one. After all, the PWX had closed its doors, and I already had a foot in the door here. After watching the opening matches in the tournament, I could tell that I would be competing against some of the finest wrestlers on the planet. But most importantly, I joined because Brydon Talinsdale has done the one thing no other president of a wrestling company has done- he’s believed in me.”
[Wendy’s no longer smiling. In fact, she almost looks emotional, and she takes a minute to compose her thoughts.]
“I’m not here as a member of the WhirlyBirdz. I’m not here as the wife of former, and likely future, world champion Terrence Thompson. I’m here as myself. Someone ‘too small and too nice to ever main-event.’ A ‘tag-team specialist’. An ‘afterthought’. A ‘perennial midcarder.’”
[Wendy says this as matter-of-factly as she possibly can, but even she’s not able to quite keep the bitterness out of her voice. She does, however, manage to crack a small smile.]
“And yet, for now both of my matches, Mr. Talinsdale has placed me in the main event. Twice now, he’s put his faith in me to headline a show, to be the one who sends the fans home happy.”
[A small shrug]
“I’m not being handed anything. I’m merely being given the chance to prove myself. But that’s more faith than most people have shown me throughout my entire career. And the only way I can show my gratitude, the only way I can show that Mr. Talinsdale’s faith in me was justified, is by proving myself worthy, and winning the X3W tournament.”
[Wendy’s smile abruptly fades, and she turns slightly away from the camera. When she speaks, her voice is almost a whisper.]
“And that brings me to this week.”
[Deep breath]
“For three weeks now, the billing for my quarterfinal match against Psycho Soldier has been on the X3W website. The ‘wholesome girl-next-door’ against the sadist. Light versus darkness. The clash of good and evil. The Catholic and the Antichrist.”
[A moments pause]
“And really, Soldier, who can deny the differences between us? I’ve heard all about your supposed dark heritage, how you count the demons themselves among your ancestors. I know your opinion on Christianity, and I’ve seen your run ins with Darin Zion. And I’ve shuddered at your sadistic brutality, when you jammed a branding iron into the face of Samuel Spacer.”
[Even now, Wendy can’t help but try and supress a small shiver. The depths some people will go in this sport has always long disturbed her.]
“I suppose some people would think that it’s my duty to convert you, or somehow cleanse the evil that no doubt resides within your soul. But I’ve always believed that true redemption can only ever come to the willing. It will never be forced or coerced. I can’t beat your sins out of you, Soldier, and I’m not even going to try. Whatever your destination is for the afterlife- its a decision you’ve made.”
[Wendy silences for just a second, and looks pensive]
“And yet, for all the darkness you perpetuate, for all the violence, deep down, there’s almost an honest quality about you. I can’t put my finger on it, and maybe its my tendency to try and find some good in everybody, but somewhere, hidden underneath all the rage and inequity that resides in you, is a decent human being.”
[Wendy cracks a grim smile]
“Yes, Soldier. A human being, with strengths and weaknesses just like anyone else. Weaknesses that I will find, and I will exploit when that bell rings. Because whatever you might believe about your dark heritage, I believe you are no more a demon than the Belmonts are vampires, or than I am an angel, for that matter. You’re a mortal, just like I am, albeit a rather... disturbed one, to say the least.”
[That might be the understatement of the year. Which is only nine days old, mind you]
[Wendy pauses for just a second, then shrugs]
“I’m a Christian. A Roman Catholic, to be specific. And if this causes you to hate me, and desire my destruction, then so be it. But before every match, before I walk to that ring, I will kneel down, and say a prayer. I will pray for the strength to do my best. I will pray for the contest to be as fair as possible. And, most of all, I will pray for my safety, to return to the locker room healthy, both in my mind and my body.”
[Wendy suddenly shakes her head.]
“But NEVER will I pray for victory. I’m not that arrogant. I am not Darin Zion, a delusional clown of a child who has disgraced Christianity by using it to further his own insane, self-serving agenda. In fact, I doubt God even cares who the winner of an athletic competition is, no matter how devoted the participants are.”
[Another brief pause]
“And that’s why, ultimately, this match is not about the differences between us. ‘Good against evil’ might help sell tickets, and it might even influence whom the fans decide to support. But oddly enough, for as different as you and I are, this match comes down to the fact that we both want the same thing. We both want to win this tournament, and stand atop the X3W as its first ever champion.”
[Wendy sits up just a little bit straighter, her emerald eyes suddenly blazing with determination]
“Soldier, five wrestlers remain in the running in this tournament, and after Monday night, that number will be down to four. For the winner of this match, its advancement to the semifinals, and a match against Crazy Kyd. For the loser, the only thing will be disappointment, and the long wait until the consolation bracket becomes revealed.”
[Wendy takes another deep breath]
“You may be bigger and stronger, Soldier, but I’m faster, more agile, and I guarantee you that I have more heart and willpower. I know you will be looking to hurt me, to break me, and knock me out of this tournament. And you may bruise my body. You may even rupture my flesh, but you will NEVER break my spirit. It’s been a long time since I’ve been so close. I’m three matches away. Three matches from achieving the one goal that has eluded me for so long. A legitimate, honest to god, Heavyweight Championship.”
[Wendy’s lips curl up in just a small smile. Almost a sneer of defiance, even.]
“And no man, monster, or demon is going to keep me away.”
[Fade]
