Saturday February 5, 2011
Terrence’s Charger on Rodeo Drive
Los Angeles, California
11:57 AM Local Time
“What? You’re not entering?”
It was a good thing we were stopped at a red light. Otherwise, I probably would have rammed my Charger into the back of the Porsche 911 that we were behind. I was too busy staring at my wife in shock over the announcement she had just made.
“Pollaski and I were talking about it this morning. It’s simply a matter of having too much on my plate. I’m already a tag champion, and I’m about to compete for the X3W World Championship. Why push my luck?”
I nodded in agreement, but I could tell that Wendy was saying the words with difficulty. It wasn’t like her to throw away a grand opportunity, especially one that would grant her a shot at something like the Undisputed Panda title. But there was resolve in her voice as well, and I knew that Wendy wouldn’t have made a decision like this without careful consideration.
The blaring cacophony of a half-dozen horns behind me made me look up. The light was green, and the 911 was already about two hundred yards away. “Shit!” I barked, ramming my foot on the gas so hard the rear tires squealed in protest. Wendy made no comment on my lack of concentration, just looked out the window as the sights of Rodeo Drive passed by.
“Wait, why are you talking to Pollaski about this, and not me?” I finally asked.
“Because Pollaski’s my manager, and you’re not.” Wendy looked over at me and shrugged. “Besides, what would you have said? Would you have encouraged me, or tried to talk me out of it?”
I thought about it for several seconds. “I don’t know,” I finally confessed.
“That’s why I didn’t talk to you,” Wendy replied with a soft smile. “On one hand, removing me from the match would give you a much better chance at winning the battle royal. On the other hand, I know you don’t want me sacrificing my career for the sake of yours. I didn’t want to stick you with that dilemma.”
“Well, yeah, but now that my tag team partner is out of the match, I’m going to have to do all the work,” I said, shooting my wife a grin to let her know that I was kidding. In truth, I was impressed by how much thought Wendy had put into all this. I probably shouldn’t have been- Wendy rarely made a decision without carefully considering the consequences.
Wendy smiled back at my joke, then shrugged. “Well with me out of the match, there’s no one any good left to oppose you, so congratulations.”
The sarcasm was evident in my wife’s voice, and her tone carried a measure of rebuke as well. “Not quite,” I said, grinning. “I still gotta win the thing.”
“But you said...”
“I know what I said,” I interrupted, waving my right arm in dismissal. “But you know me better than anyone else in the world, hon. Am I ever overconfident? Do I ever just go into a match, expecting everything to be handed to me? Do I not earn every victory through my own sweat and blood?”
“I know,” Wendy replied, sighing. “But sometimes, you come off a little... arrogant.”
I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help myself. I risked another glance at my wife and saw that she was definitely miffed. I forced myself to stop laughing, and looked over at Wendy. “Sorry for laughing, but how the hell am I arrogant? Because I know that I’m good?”
“I think that’s the definition of arrogant...” Wendy replied.
“No, that’s the definition of self-confidence. These wrestling companies, they want us to sit in front of a goddamn camera and give our opinions of the match. If I’m gonna plop my butt down and open my wordhole, I’m gonna be honest. If I were to face every single fucking person in CPW ten times each, I’d beat every single one of them at least seven or eight times out of those ten. I’m sorry if it sounds like bragging, but that’s the way I feel about it. And if the locker room doesn’t like it, they can prove me wrong.”
“Am I included in that?” Wendy asked quietly.
I paused for another second, then broke into a grin. “Nah, you and I could go five and five, easily.”
Wendy smiled, then pulled on her left arm, trying to stretch muscles that were cramping from sitting in the car for a while. “Well, I’m glad you at least have respect for me.”
I snorted, and shook my head again. “I respect people hon. I’m well aware that on any given match, any person in that match can come away with a win, no matter how unlikely it seems on paper. I’ve been on both sides of the coin on that. And when people DO beat me, I give them props.” I broke into another grin. “Its just, THAT never happens, so no ever sees me eating humble pie.”
Wendy shook her head, although she couldn’t help but smile herself. “Terrence Thompson, you are incorrigible.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said, still grinning at her. “But you still love me.”
“I do,” Wendy sighed, then pointed ahead. “I’d love you even more if you didn’t ram us into the back of that Porsche...”
“What? Oh, FUCK!” I screamed as I saw the 911 stopped several feet ahead. I slammed on the breaks, and Wendy shrieked as she was pitched forward, being caught by her seatbelt. Luckily, the high quality brake discs on my car did their job, and my Charger came to a stop inches from the Porsche’s bumper. The recoil slammed Wendy back into her seat, thankfully not giving her whiplash. I looked over at her and grinned. “Oops.”
“Thank God you wrestle better than you drive,” Wendy remarked, looking back out the window.
“Ouch,” I muttered, focusing my attention on the red light across the intersection. Nice girl she might be, but Wendy sure knew how to kick a guy where it hurt.
===============================
Saturday February 5, 2011
The RV- Main Cabin
Santa Monica, California
6:10 PM Local Time
[We open our scene in the main cabin of the Birdz’ RV. Wendy Briese is sitting on the sofa, reading this week’s edition of the National Review, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the camera has just turned on. From the right hand side, Terrence walks in, sitting down next to Wendy. Terrence is holding what appears to be a bottle of pills. He opens the cap, and pours a couple into his hands, before chewing (yes, chewing) and swallowing them. He then thrusts the bottle at Wendy, who looks up, wondering why she just had a small white pill bottle shoved in her face.]
Wendy Briese: “Yes, Terry?”
Terrence Thompson: [sounding like he’s reciting memorized lines] “Wendy, these Cherrybombs are giving me a headache with all thier rambling! I’m sure you must feel the same way!”
[Wendy looks at her husband, obviously completely lost. She then looks at the bottle in her husbands hands]
Wendy: “Terrence, these are Theresa’s Flintstones vitamins.”
[Terrence suddenly looks irritated, and he mouths at Wendy to ‘play along’. Wendy stares at her husband like he’s an alien, before turning back to her magazine. Terrence, desperate now, tries again]
Terrence: “Are you sure, hon? I know the annoying buzzing of Haley Dark and Belladonna have to be pounding in your head as well!”
[Wendy doesn’t even look up]
Wendy: “Terry, if you have that bad of a headache, there’s some Ibuprofin in the cupboard above the fridge. Honestly, I don’t see how you missed it when you grabbed the vitamins.”
[Terrence, now utterly defeated that Wendy’s not playing along, gets up from the couch, and the scene fades]
=========================
Saturday February 5, 2011
The RV- Main Cabin
Santa Monica, California
6:17 PM Local Time
[Scene opens up again, Wendy’s still on the couch, reading her magazine. Terrence sits down again, next to her, and for a second, just sits there. Suddenly, he makes a grab at the air, then another, as if trying to catch something. This action makes Wendy look up from her magazine, and over at her husband. Terrence merely grins back at her, and Wendy, shaking her head, turns her attention back to her magazine. Terrence makes another couple grabs, then gets up from the couch]
[He returns a couple minutes later, this time holding a fly swatter. He takes a few swings at the air, but doesn’t seem to hit anything. He begins flailing the fly swatter about, the actions again driving Wendy to distraction from her magazine, and she looks up.]
Wendy: “Terrence, what are you-”
*WHAP!*
[Right in the kisser, Alice!]
[Wendy bleats in pain, and holds her hand to her mouth, as Terrence looks positively mortified at what he did.]
Terrence: “Oh God! Wendy, are you okay? I’m so sorry... I didn’t.. that was completely an accident.”
[Wendy, with the hand not clutching her mouth, shoves her husband away]
Wendy: “Terrence Andrew Thompson, what the HELL are you doing?”
[Middle name came out. She’s pissed]
Terrence: [stammering] “I was... just... I...”
[Wendy, thankfully not bleeding, looks over at her husband, angrily awaiting an explanation]
Terrence: “I was just saying how the Cherrybombs are like annoying flies buzzing around my head.”
Wendy: “And to do that, you needed to hit me with THIS?”
[Wendy rips the fly swatter out of her husbands hands]
Terrence: “Well, that was an accident. I was trying to be dramatic.”
Wendy: “I’LL SHOW YOU DRAMATIC!”
*WHAP!*
[So much for refusing to use weapons, eh?]
Terrence: “OW! That hurts!”
Wendy: “Oh, really? It hurts? YOU THINK, TERRENCE?”
*WHAP! WHAP!*
[Terrence tries to fend off the blows, and backs away from the irate redhead, but Wendy bears down on him as he backs out of the picture]
Terrence: [from off camera]“Okay, I’m sorry but- [*WHAP!*] there’s really no need to- [*WHAP!*] You know, that’s kinda hot... [*WHAP!*] Okay, that’s not- [*WHAP!*] Look, I’m sorry, okay? [*WHAP!*] Okay, stop! [*WHAP!*] You’ve made your point-[*WHAP!*] Okay, this is starting to be domestic abuse [*WHAP!*] Please? [*WHAPWHAPWHAPWHAPHWHAPWHAPWHAPWHAPWHAPWHAP!*] STOP IT!”
[The scene cuts out as Wendy continues to beat her husband with the flyswatter]
======================================
Saturday February 5, 2011
The RV- Main Cabin
Santa Monica, California
6:32 PM Local Time
[Okay, we’re gonna try this one more time.]
[Wendy’s back on the sofa, although no longer reading the magazine. Terrence is sitting to her left (our right), looking pretty sore, with several red welts on his face. Wendy looks at her husband with a mixture of irritation and amusement. Terrence, for his part, won’t dare to meet Wendy’s eye]
Terrence: “You know, hon, these Cherrybombs are really starting to get on my nerves.”
[Wendy looks over at her husband?]
Wendy: “Really, Terrence? I have absolutely NO idea what that would be like.”
[Ouch]
Terrence: “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”
[Wendy shrugs]
Wendy: “And I already forgave you, hon.”
[Terrence grimaces.]
Terrence: “Yeah, you ‘forgave’ me like twenty-five times.”
Wendy: “Thirty-four times. But I don’t blame you for losing count.”
[Terrence sighs]
Wendy: “Anyways, the Cherrybombs?”
[The mauled patriarch of the Thompson clan perks up just a bit]
Terrence: “Right, them. All that twirling and rhyming and randomness and... well dear god. It’s like Dr. fuggin’ Seuss cut a promo on us.”
[Wendy smiles]
Wendy: “I thought it was cute.”
[Pause]
Terrence: “Cute? There’s no room for CUTE in pro wrestling!”
[Wendy’s going to totally beg to differ on that.]
Wendy: “I’m going to totally beg to differ on that.”
[Told you. Anyways, Terrence isn’t really in the mood to argue the point.]
Terrence: “I mean, it wouldn’t be so damned annoying if Belladonna and Hayley Dark had a clue what they were talking about, but alas, as seems to be the case around here, they don’t.
[Wendy shrugs. She actually kind of agrees with her husbands assessment here]
Terrence: “First of all, I’m going to make this really clear. I don’t overlook ANYONE. I’ve been in this business long enough to know that you can’t afford to. I didn’t get this far in my career by just assuming my opponents are going to roll over and die for me, and I sure as hell have benefited from upsets a couple of times myself.”
[Terrence shrugs, and continues]
Terrence: “You think that someone as perceptive Belladonna and Hayley Dark would have figured that out. Wendy over there weighs one-thirty on the average, and she’s beaten the hell out of more people larger than her than I can count. You think I’m dumb enough to assume that these two can’t do the same?”
[Wendy smiles just a tad, probably because she just beat the hell out of Terrence]
Terrence: “If you guys, or anyone else, wants to think that I’m arrogant, that’s your call. Believe whatever the hell you want to believe. Personally, I view it as confidence. I know that Wendy and I can beat the Cherrybombs, just as I know that I can win the battle royal, or the Undisputed Panda Championship, or anything else under the sun. If you wanna hate me for thinking that, its your prerogative.”
[For just a second, Terrence looks really, truly, irritated]
Terrence: “Now, as far ‘biting the hand that feeds us, please. I have no problem with Camilla Pazzini, and near as I can tell, she’s the one who signed us to CPW, and she’s the one who stuck us in the match. If you want to be bitter that we took the opportunity that was given to us, and made the most of it, then go ahead. The fact is, the both of you were in that match, and neither of you could pull it off. We did.”
[Terrence, reaches out, and lightly smacks Wendy on the shoulder.]
Wendy: “What?”
[Terrence shrugs]
Terrence: “I’m tagging you in. Its your turn.”
[Wendy folds her arms across her chest]
Wendy: “Terrence, that’s AMAZINGLY stupid.”
[Terrence only shrugs]
Terrence: “Well, go with it. We don’t have much time.”
[Wendy shrugs in return, and turns towards the camera]
Wendy: “I too think that the Cherrybombs have gotten a bit of a misinterpretation of what we’re about. They acknowledge that we’re veterans, that we’re two of the better teams in this sport, and yet, they automatically assume that because my husband likes to talk a big game, we’re going to make some rookie mistakes.”
[Terrence smirks, but Wendy doesn’t seem to notice]
Wendy: “First of all, I know Hayley Dark doesn’t have the accolades her partner does, but considering that I’ve spent my whole career being regarded as the second-fiddle on my own team, you think I’m going to write her off because of that? Hardly. I’d actually love to see Hayley break out into singles competitions as well, and really show what she can do. Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to be so eager to do that here.”
Terrence: “Or even talk much. I noticed Belladonna pretty much did all the talking there...”
[Wendy pauses, then shrugs. Its not her place to judge]
Wendy: “Second, do the Cherrybombs really have that little regard for us, where they think we can’t improvise in a match? It was once said that those who are good make plans, but the great ones know when to abandon those plans. I’d like to think that Terrence and I are pretty great at what we do. Like anyone, whether its pro wrestling, football, basketball, or even baseball, you have to be prepared to adjust. Terrence and I can adjust as well as anybody.”
[Terrence nods his agreement, as Wendy continues]
Wendy: “I’m not entering the battle royal, because I wanted to focus on this match, and my upcoming title shot in X3W. I know how important this match is, as does my husband. We hardly proved anything when we won the tag titles, and now its our chance to start proving that we truly are the best team in CPW.”
[Wendy breaks in a smile]
Wendy: “And I, for one, am hoping that we can live up to the challenge.”
[Terrence chuckles, and looks over at his wife]
Terrence: “You know, Wendy. It’s fitting that the Cherrybombs mentioned the word ‘doom’ no less than thirty-nine times in their first promo. You know why?”
[Wendy rolls her eyes at the inevitably cheesy line.]
Wendy: “Because they meet their doom on Monday?”
Terrence: “Damn right. Because who dat think they better than the WhirlyBirdz?”
[Wendy shakes her head in amusement and exasperation, then finally sighs]
Wendy: “Who ‘dat’?”
[Fade]
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
EPISODE 75: Team Meeting
Friday February 4, 2011
The Cheesecake Factory- Dining Room
Beverly Hills, California
7:21 PM Local Time
Cassie DeSlair: “And I’ll have the fettuccine Alfredo, light on the sauce please.”
[Ah, The Cheesecake Factory.]
[Very little in the world can stand up to the dining experience in one of these restaurants, with the wide varitiy of menu options, excessively generous portions, and of course, in the miraculous event that one has room at the end, the Cheesecake. In short, it’s a perfect venue for the Thompson family and friends to be spending their dinner this evening.]
[And that’s where we open the scene, with the five members of Terrence and Wendy’s entourage sitting around a table, with the camera placed at one end. To the left, nearest the camera, sits Cassie DeSlair, Wendy’s friend, and the Birdz travel-along babysitter. Next to her sits the patriarch of the Thompson clan, Terrence himself, surprisingly in a very nice buttoned shirt (which Wendy probably made him wear). On the right, nearest to the camera, is Terrence and Wendy’s daughter, the ever adorable Theresa, who’s showing more interest in the coloring book in front of her than anything else. Wendy sits next to her, a tad further away]
[And of course, at the head of the table is none other than the WhirlyBirdz manager himself, Daniel Pollaski, his ever-present Hawaiian shirt today in a blue and gold motif. Pollaski is handing the last of the menus to the waiter, who smiles at the quintet, then turns and walks off. Wendy turns to her husband.]
Wendy Briese: “This was a good idea for a place to eat, hon. I love the Cheesecake Factory.”
[Terrence merely shrugs at his wife’s compliment]
Terrence Thompson: “Well, I doubt any of us feel like cooking in the RV tonight, and we can’t eat at McDonalds and Taco Bell EVERY night, so why not-”
*BANG! BANG! BANG!*
[Terrence is cut off in midsentence by the banging of a gavel on the table. Terrence, Wendy, and Cassie turn immediately to Pollaski, all three looking rather astonished as Pollaski sets the wooden hammer on the table]
Cassie: “What-”
Wendy: “-the-”
Terrence: “-HELL did you do that for?”
[Pollaski waves his hands pompously, as if beginning to make a speech]
Daniel Pollaski: “Order, order! I hereby call this team meeting of the WhirlyBirdz Vehicular Hit Squad into session!”
[Stunned silence meets this proclamation, as Terrence, Wendy, and Cassie all exchange glances. Theresa, of course, has her nose shoved in that coloring book.]
Terrence: “Team meet-on-the-what-now?”
Wendy: “We’re just having dinner.”
Cassie: “Although that does explain the camera.”
[Cassie points to the camera at the end of the table, and Terrence and Wendy look over at it briefly as well]
Terrence: “Yeah, I was gonna ask about that...”
[Pollaski shrugs]
Pollaski: “Well, I figured it’d be a nice change of pace from the normal sit down in front of a camera and talk smack interview. You know, give everyone an insight into how the WhirlyBirdz prepare for the matches.”
[Another pause]
Cassie: “So why are Theresa and I here?”
[Wendy smiles]
Wendy: “You’re part of this team too, Cass. You don’t wrestle, but if you didn’t watch Theresa while Terrence and I were training and competing, we couldn’t do this. Besides, we’re still having a nice family dinner, even if it IS being recorded.”
Pollaski: “Yeah, and besides, no one’s ever gone wrong shoving a good-looking blond in front of a camera.”
[Cassie’s eyes narrow]
Cassie: “So you essentially view me as eye-candy?”
Pollaski: “Well, your words, but... yeah, pretty much.”
[Suddenly indignant, both Wendy and Cassie begin talking at once, while Terrence leans back in his chair, eager to be out of the way of the brewing argument. Pollaski looks fairly nonchalant at the two angry females rebuking him, and calmly grabs the gavel again.]
*BANG!*
[Silence reigns for a second, although at some of the tables in the background, several other diners are looking over at the Birdz’ table, some looking rather annoyed]
Pollaski: “Anyways, it’s time to focus. That Four-Store War was a mess of a match, but you came out of there the winners-”
Terrence: “Well, Wendy did. I didn’t do much.”
[Wendy, suddenly exasperated, looks back over at her husband, rolling her eyes.]
Wendy: “Terry, how many times have I told you? It didn’t matter which of us got the pin, or did the most damage. We’re a team, and we win as a team.”
[Wendy’s staring fiercely, althought not exactly angrily, at her husband, and there’s a long awkward pause. The ever talkative Pollaski, of course, is the one to break the spell]
Pollaski: “Gotta say, Wendy’s right. It wasn’t pretty, but you guys did what you set out to do, and you got the win. So now, you’re SEVEN-time Tag Team Champions, not to mention still undefeated since returning to wrestling last ye-”
Wendy: “Wait.. didn’t we lose our last match in PWX?”
[Another long, uncomfortable pause]
Pollaski: “Yeah... that was because you got crammed in an eight-man cluster-you-know-what and got stuck with those idiots in Global Revolution as your partners.”
Wendy: “But still...”
[Pollaski interrupts her before she can continue, waving his hand.]
Pollaski: “Look, make of it what you will, but the fact of the matter is, you guys have once again established yourself as one of the most dominant tag teams in the sport today. The question is, where do we go from here?”
[Both Terrence and Wendy look at each other, and Terrence shrugs. Wendy looks back over at Pollaski]
Wendy: “Well, from what I heard, Double Dragon was probably going to be the first challengers, but now that they’re gone, that leaves the door wide open.”
Terrence: “Well, I’m hearing some stuff about this Sin City Syndicate. I’d wager they knock of Steely Vengeance, which would immediately put them at the front of the pecking order.”
Wendy: “I don’t know, hon. I wouldn’t rule out Steely Vengeance. Tough Eagle nearly got me in that match. But if the Cherrybombs can beat us nontitle this week, they’ll be the clear frontrunners.”
[Pollaski nods in agreement with Wendy’s assessment.]
Pollaski: “And that brings us to the purpose of this meeting. The Cherrybombs.”
Cassie: “You think they’d be better off if they spelled their name like you do. You know, the CherryBombz?”
[Another long, uncomfortable pause as everyone else stares at Cassie. Wendy looks amused, although Terrence looks annoyed, even angry.]
Terrence: “Okay, you know what? We came up with that name back in 2001. It was COOL then, okay? And we can’t bloody go around changing it now!”
[Not really, but saying that it was the brainstorm of an 19 year old kid on three hours of sleep and running out of time until the application was due is even more embarrassing.]
Cassie: “Sorry, I was just joking.”
[Terrence shrugs, as if to say ‘no big deal’. Everyone looks over at Wendy, who’s no longer amused. In fact, she’s looking at the table, her eyes downcast.]
Terrence: “What, hon?”
Wendy: “I... I LIKE our name...”
[She would.]
*BANG!*
[Gavel, yo]
Pollaski: “Okay, getting off track again. We need to focus on beating the Cherrybombs.”
Terrence: [chuckling] “Easy. Step on ‘em.”
[Pollaski chuckles, but Wendy doesn’t even look anywhere near amused.]
Wendy: “Belladonna isn’t the Undisputed Panda for nothing, Terry. Both she and Hayley might be small, but they’re insanely fast, and they’re also tough as nails. Hayley took some serious punishment in that Four-Store War, and she kept on going almost until the end. They’re stronger than they look, and they’re almost freakishly acrobatic.”
[Pollaski again nods in agreement with Wendy’s assessment.]
Pollaski: “Yeah, both women, especially Belladonna, are accomplished parkours, and they can use their skills in that discipline to help their mobility in the ring.”
[Wendy suddenly, looks over at Pollaski, her eyebrows narrowed in confusion.]
Wendy: “Sorry, but I keep hearing that word. What is a ‘parkour?”’
[Both Pollaski and Cassie open their mouths to respond, but stop when Terrence bursts out laughing. He quickly reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his Droid. He quickly types something in on the screen, and slides it across the table to his wife]
Terrence: “Here you go, hon. This is what Pollaski’s talking about.”
[Wendy picks up the phone, and stares at it, looking fairly impressed for several seconds. Then, on the phone’s audio, a scream can be heard, followed by a sickening thud. Wendy cringes, and hands the phone back to Terrence, looking rather disgusted]
Wendy: “Why would ANYONE want to do that?”
[Pollaski chuckles, and shakes his head]
Pollaski: “Well, the good ones manage to do that stuff without faceplanting on the concrete. Parkour is one of those activities where the people who are in it for the long term are really good, or really really dumb.”
Terrence: “So which one is Belladonna?”
Wendy: “Given that she doesn’t look like she’s fallen off of about sixty different buildings, I’m going to go with her being a really good parkour.”
Cassie: “Traceur.”
[Another brief pause. As the Birdz look over at their nanny, the waiter silently slips in and drops a basket of bread on the table, not interrupting the conversation.]
Terrence: “Bless you?”
[Cassie shakes her head]
Cassie: “Practitioners of parkour are called traceurs. Anyways, from what it sounds like, this Belladonna girl is likely more into free-running than parkour, since she’s more flashy and competitive. Its a similar, but different style that emphasizes more on tricks and aesthetics in the movements, instead of the pure efficiency that’s emphasized in Parko...”
[Cassie stops talking as she realizes that everyones staring at her like she’s crazy. She suddenly becomes very interested in getting putter on a slice of pumpernickel.]
Cassie: “Sorry. I got a little geeky there.”
[Wendy smiles reassuringly]
Wendy: “No, you’re fine. Just, how do you know so much about it?”
[Cassie shrugs]
Cassie: “I had a boyfriend who was REALLY into that stuff. Of course, there wasn’t a wall he could climb or a roof he could jump to get away from me after I came home and found him with my roomate...”
[Cassie’s voice is tinged with bitterness, and both Wendy and Terrence look at her uncomfortably, not entirely sure what to say. Pollaski knows what to do, however.]
*BANG!*
[Needless to say, that gavel is starting to get on people’s nerves]
Pollaski: “Well, anyways, I think that you guys are missing the most dangerous aspect of the Cherrybombs. All that resiliency and bouncing off the walls doesn’t mean jack if you don’t have the energy to do it, and THAT is what makes these two so dangerous. It’s like little nuclear reactors have been installed in them or something.”
[Terrence shrugs]
Terrence: “So all we need to do is get those reactors into a meltdown. Why is it that small people like that have so much energy anyways?”
Wendy: “Great metabolism, I’m sure...”
[Pollaski nods again, but reaches for something under the table.]
Pollaski: “I’m sure metabolism has something to do with it. But I think the real reason Belladonna is so energetic is... THIS.”
[Pollasi sets a bottle, filled with a red liquid on the table. Everyone else stares at it curiously.]
Wendy: “What is this?”
Pollaski: “This... is cherryade.”
[Dun dun DUUUUUUN!]
[Seriously, not a common drink in America]
Pollaski: [shoving the bottle at Wendy] “Go on, try it, you big wuss.”
[Wendy stares at the bottle as if she’s never seen a soft-drink before in her life. Finally, uncertainly, she unscrews the cap, and takes a swig. She immediately begins choking and sputtering, setting the bottle back on the table.]
Wendy: “S....s....sweet!!!!”
[Wendy chokes a couple more times, then dives at her water to wash the taste of cherryade out of her mouth. Terrence, looking at Wendy with concern, picks up the bottle of the liquid and sets it at the end of the table, just out of the view of the camera.]
Pollaski: [who’s naturally acting like Wendy didn’t just choke to death in front of him] “See, that stuff is so chock full of sugar, no wonder they’re always energetic.”
Wendy: [still a little raspy from coughing] “I think I’m diabetic now...”
Terrence: “Great, so essentially we’re fighting two undersized girls who are perenially hyper due to a massive sugar intake. It’s like we’ve become villains in an anime or something.”
*BANG!*
[Everyone looks over at Pollaski, Terrence definitely more annoyed than the others.]
Terrence: “Okay, give me the gavel, dude.”
[Pollaski shakes his head in defiance]
Pollaski: “No. We’re getting off track. This helps us focus.”
Terrence: “No, this irritates us. This makes us want to kill you.”
[Surprisingly, Pollaski actually beams at that prospect]
Pollaski: “Great! Take that aggression and use it to beat the Cherrybombs!”
[For a second, Terrence looks mollified. Then he lunges for the gavel, but Pollaski won’t let go. For a second, the two wrestle for the gavel.]
Pollaski: “Dude...chill... out!”
Terrence: “Give...me...the...GAVEL!”
[With one roar of exertion, Terrence rips the gavel out of Pollaski’s hands. However, as he does so, he knocks over Wendy’s water. Wendy leaps to her feet with a shriek, knocking over her chair. The waiter quickly rushes over, and hands Wendy a napkin, who immediately begins to dab the water on the front of her skirt, all the while angrily looking at Terrence and Pollaski.]
Wendy: [hissing] “Could you two start acting like ADULTS?”
[By now, their entire secton of the restaurant is staring at them. Wendy turns red from embarrassment, and, after thanking the waiter for his help cleaning up the spill, she quickly sits back in her chair, glaring daggers at her husband and manager. Terrence responds with a sheepish grin, while Pollaski sits stone-faced, pretending nothing is going on. Wendy fumes for a second, then puts on the widest, most phony smile she can manage]
Wendy: “I believe we were discussing our match?”
[Pollaski takes that as his cue to proceed, and quickly does so.]
Pollaski: “Well, any ideas on how to defuse the Cherrybombs?”
[For a second, everyone pauses and considers this question, even Cassie, who suffers from a clear lack of wrestling knowledge]
Terrence: “The legs.”
[Everyone looks over at Terrence, who shrugs]
Terrence: “Look, I don’t think there’s any doubt that if I were to stand toe to toe with either Hayley or Belladonna, I’d turn them into hamburger. They have to know that too, so they’re gonna be bouncing all over the place like hot air molecules. They can’t do all that flippy crap if we take their legs out.”
[Wendy, who also does that ‘flippy crap’, albeit to a lesser extent, grimaces, but she nods in agreement]
Wendy: “You’re right. If we can force them to lose that speed advantage, things will be much easier for us. Let me start the match, Terry. I have a better chance at keeping up with them than you would, and I know how to wear down people’s ability to move.”
[Terrence grins]
Terrence: “Just like demo derbies. Doesn’t matter how good your engine is, if your wheels are broken, you’re a sitting duck.”
[Cassie clears her throat, causing the rest of the table to look at her.]
Wendy: “What’s up, Cass?”
Cassie: “Well, you realize you just broadcasted your entire gameplan to the world?”
[Both Terrence and Wendy start laughing, and shake their heads]
Wendy: “Not really. We just said what we’re going to try and do. They don’t know how we’re going to go about doing it. I mean, there’s several different ways you can wear a leg down... submission holds, kicking, repeated dragon screws...”
Terrence: “Trust us, Cassie. Both Wendy and I are pretty creative when we’re in that ring. The Cherrybombs will be surprised indeed when they see what’s coming. We’re not dumb enough to put all our cards on the table three days before the match even happens.”
[Cassie nods, and smiles, appeased by her friends reassurances. Pollaski opens his mouth to say something else, but...]
*BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!*
Theresa Thompson: “ORDER! ORDER!”
[Everyone (and we mean EVERYONE) looks at Theresa, who’s gotten ahold of the gavel, and is doing her best Pollaski interpretation. Wendy glances from her, to the now-empty bottle of cherryade, and her face pales]
Wendy: “Oh no...”
*BANG!*
[Wendy grabs the gavel from her daughter’s hands, and tries hushing the suddenly wired four-year old.]
Wendy: [hissing] “Theresa, behave yourself! Do you want us to get kicked-”
Waiter: “Excuse me, ma’am?”
Wendy: “-out?”
[Both Wendy and Cassie turn beet red from embarrassment as they look up to see the waiter standing above them, the most insincere smile ever plastered across his face]
Waiter: “I’m sorry, but we’ve received several complaints about you and your party. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
[Terrence scoffs, thumping his chest]
Terrence: “You know who you’re freakin’ dealing with, boy? You better bring the whole kitchen staff out, because we ain’t goin til our bellies are FULL!”
[Another moment of silence, where everyone looks at Terrence, Wendy especially looks like she’s about to fling the gavel at her husband’s head. Terrence gets the hint.]
Terrence: “Alright, we’ll go. Come on, Theresa.”
[Terrence picks his child up out of her seat, and starts carrying her out of the restaurant. Cassie, looking embarrassed and crestfallen, picks up her coat and purse and follows. Wendy, looking absolutely humiliated, turns towards the waiter.]
Wendy: “Look, I’m really, really sorry about this. I don’t know what...”
[Wendy’s voice trails off as she sees the waiter is flashing her that same vacant, insincere smile.]
Wendy: “Um, look, we’re really hungry, and I’m sure our food is almost ready. Is there anyway you could box that food up and we take it to go?”
Waiter: “I’m sorry ma’am. Store policy says that-”
Wendy: “I’ll give you a fifty percent tip.”
[Wendy thrusts her credit card at the waiter, who takes it without a second thought.]
Waiter: “Please wait outside.”
[The waiter briskly walks off, leaving Wendy and Pollaski alone at the table. Around them, the rest of the restaurant is returning to their normal conversation. Wendy’s turns to grab her coat, and is reminded about the camera.]
Wendy: “Oh, God. Everyone’s going to see this. Why couldn’t they have just-”
Pollaski: “They?”
[Pollaski claps Wendy on the shoulder as he walks by, a smug smirk on his face]
Pollaski: “Wendy, how many times have I told you? It doesn’t matter which of us made the most noise, or pissed off the post people. We’re a team, and we get kicked out of restaurants as a team.”
[Wendy glares at Pollaski who grins back as he goes to grab the camera. The last thing we see is Wendy’s furious visage, her fists clenched at her side as she tries with all her will to avoid pouncing on her manager.]
[And the feed cuts]
The Cheesecake Factory- Dining Room
Beverly Hills, California
7:21 PM Local Time
Cassie DeSlair: “And I’ll have the fettuccine Alfredo, light on the sauce please.”
[Ah, The Cheesecake Factory.]
[Very little in the world can stand up to the dining experience in one of these restaurants, with the wide varitiy of menu options, excessively generous portions, and of course, in the miraculous event that one has room at the end, the Cheesecake. In short, it’s a perfect venue for the Thompson family and friends to be spending their dinner this evening.]
[And that’s where we open the scene, with the five members of Terrence and Wendy’s entourage sitting around a table, with the camera placed at one end. To the left, nearest the camera, sits Cassie DeSlair, Wendy’s friend, and the Birdz travel-along babysitter. Next to her sits the patriarch of the Thompson clan, Terrence himself, surprisingly in a very nice buttoned shirt (which Wendy probably made him wear). On the right, nearest to the camera, is Terrence and Wendy’s daughter, the ever adorable Theresa, who’s showing more interest in the coloring book in front of her than anything else. Wendy sits next to her, a tad further away]
[And of course, at the head of the table is none other than the WhirlyBirdz manager himself, Daniel Pollaski, his ever-present Hawaiian shirt today in a blue and gold motif. Pollaski is handing the last of the menus to the waiter, who smiles at the quintet, then turns and walks off. Wendy turns to her husband.]
Wendy Briese: “This was a good idea for a place to eat, hon. I love the Cheesecake Factory.”
[Terrence merely shrugs at his wife’s compliment]
Terrence Thompson: “Well, I doubt any of us feel like cooking in the RV tonight, and we can’t eat at McDonalds and Taco Bell EVERY night, so why not-”
*BANG! BANG! BANG!*
[Terrence is cut off in midsentence by the banging of a gavel on the table. Terrence, Wendy, and Cassie turn immediately to Pollaski, all three looking rather astonished as Pollaski sets the wooden hammer on the table]
Cassie: “What-”
Wendy: “-the-”
Terrence: “-HELL did you do that for?”
[Pollaski waves his hands pompously, as if beginning to make a speech]
Daniel Pollaski: “Order, order! I hereby call this team meeting of the WhirlyBirdz Vehicular Hit Squad into session!”
[Stunned silence meets this proclamation, as Terrence, Wendy, and Cassie all exchange glances. Theresa, of course, has her nose shoved in that coloring book.]
Terrence: “Team meet-on-the-what-now?”
Wendy: “We’re just having dinner.”
Cassie: “Although that does explain the camera.”
[Cassie points to the camera at the end of the table, and Terrence and Wendy look over at it briefly as well]
Terrence: “Yeah, I was gonna ask about that...”
[Pollaski shrugs]
Pollaski: “Well, I figured it’d be a nice change of pace from the normal sit down in front of a camera and talk smack interview. You know, give everyone an insight into how the WhirlyBirdz prepare for the matches.”
[Another pause]
Cassie: “So why are Theresa and I here?”
[Wendy smiles]
Wendy: “You’re part of this team too, Cass. You don’t wrestle, but if you didn’t watch Theresa while Terrence and I were training and competing, we couldn’t do this. Besides, we’re still having a nice family dinner, even if it IS being recorded.”
Pollaski: “Yeah, and besides, no one’s ever gone wrong shoving a good-looking blond in front of a camera.”
[Cassie’s eyes narrow]
Cassie: “So you essentially view me as eye-candy?”
Pollaski: “Well, your words, but... yeah, pretty much.”
[Suddenly indignant, both Wendy and Cassie begin talking at once, while Terrence leans back in his chair, eager to be out of the way of the brewing argument. Pollaski looks fairly nonchalant at the two angry females rebuking him, and calmly grabs the gavel again.]
*BANG!*
[Silence reigns for a second, although at some of the tables in the background, several other diners are looking over at the Birdz’ table, some looking rather annoyed]
Pollaski: “Anyways, it’s time to focus. That Four-Store War was a mess of a match, but you came out of there the winners-”
Terrence: “Well, Wendy did. I didn’t do much.”
[Wendy, suddenly exasperated, looks back over at her husband, rolling her eyes.]
Wendy: “Terry, how many times have I told you? It didn’t matter which of us got the pin, or did the most damage. We’re a team, and we win as a team.”
[Wendy’s staring fiercely, althought not exactly angrily, at her husband, and there’s a long awkward pause. The ever talkative Pollaski, of course, is the one to break the spell]
Pollaski: “Gotta say, Wendy’s right. It wasn’t pretty, but you guys did what you set out to do, and you got the win. So now, you’re SEVEN-time Tag Team Champions, not to mention still undefeated since returning to wrestling last ye-”
Wendy: “Wait.. didn’t we lose our last match in PWX?”
[Another long, uncomfortable pause]
Pollaski: “Yeah... that was because you got crammed in an eight-man cluster-you-know-what and got stuck with those idiots in Global Revolution as your partners.”
Wendy: “But still...”
[Pollaski interrupts her before she can continue, waving his hand.]
Pollaski: “Look, make of it what you will, but the fact of the matter is, you guys have once again established yourself as one of the most dominant tag teams in the sport today. The question is, where do we go from here?”
[Both Terrence and Wendy look at each other, and Terrence shrugs. Wendy looks back over at Pollaski]
Wendy: “Well, from what I heard, Double Dragon was probably going to be the first challengers, but now that they’re gone, that leaves the door wide open.”
Terrence: “Well, I’m hearing some stuff about this Sin City Syndicate. I’d wager they knock of Steely Vengeance, which would immediately put them at the front of the pecking order.”
Wendy: “I don’t know, hon. I wouldn’t rule out Steely Vengeance. Tough Eagle nearly got me in that match. But if the Cherrybombs can beat us nontitle this week, they’ll be the clear frontrunners.”
[Pollaski nods in agreement with Wendy’s assessment.]
Pollaski: “And that brings us to the purpose of this meeting. The Cherrybombs.”
Cassie: “You think they’d be better off if they spelled their name like you do. You know, the CherryBombz?”
[Another long, uncomfortable pause as everyone else stares at Cassie. Wendy looks amused, although Terrence looks annoyed, even angry.]
Terrence: “Okay, you know what? We came up with that name back in 2001. It was COOL then, okay? And we can’t bloody go around changing it now!”
[Not really, but saying that it was the brainstorm of an 19 year old kid on three hours of sleep and running out of time until the application was due is even more embarrassing.]
Cassie: “Sorry, I was just joking.”
[Terrence shrugs, as if to say ‘no big deal’. Everyone looks over at Wendy, who’s no longer amused. In fact, she’s looking at the table, her eyes downcast.]
Terrence: “What, hon?”
Wendy: “I... I LIKE our name...”
[She would.]
*BANG!*
[Gavel, yo]
Pollaski: “Okay, getting off track again. We need to focus on beating the Cherrybombs.”
Terrence: [chuckling] “Easy. Step on ‘em.”
[Pollaski chuckles, but Wendy doesn’t even look anywhere near amused.]
Wendy: “Belladonna isn’t the Undisputed Panda for nothing, Terry. Both she and Hayley might be small, but they’re insanely fast, and they’re also tough as nails. Hayley took some serious punishment in that Four-Store War, and she kept on going almost until the end. They’re stronger than they look, and they’re almost freakishly acrobatic.”
[Pollaski again nods in agreement with Wendy’s assessment.]
Pollaski: “Yeah, both women, especially Belladonna, are accomplished parkours, and they can use their skills in that discipline to help their mobility in the ring.”
[Wendy suddenly, looks over at Pollaski, her eyebrows narrowed in confusion.]
Wendy: “Sorry, but I keep hearing that word. What is a ‘parkour?”’
[Both Pollaski and Cassie open their mouths to respond, but stop when Terrence bursts out laughing. He quickly reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his Droid. He quickly types something in on the screen, and slides it across the table to his wife]
Terrence: “Here you go, hon. This is what Pollaski’s talking about.”
[Wendy picks up the phone, and stares at it, looking fairly impressed for several seconds. Then, on the phone’s audio, a scream can be heard, followed by a sickening thud. Wendy cringes, and hands the phone back to Terrence, looking rather disgusted]
Wendy: “Why would ANYONE want to do that?”
[Pollaski chuckles, and shakes his head]
Pollaski: “Well, the good ones manage to do that stuff without faceplanting on the concrete. Parkour is one of those activities where the people who are in it for the long term are really good, or really really dumb.”
Terrence: “So which one is Belladonna?”
Wendy: “Given that she doesn’t look like she’s fallen off of about sixty different buildings, I’m going to go with her being a really good parkour.”
Cassie: “Traceur.”
[Another brief pause. As the Birdz look over at their nanny, the waiter silently slips in and drops a basket of bread on the table, not interrupting the conversation.]
Terrence: “Bless you?”
[Cassie shakes her head]
Cassie: “Practitioners of parkour are called traceurs. Anyways, from what it sounds like, this Belladonna girl is likely more into free-running than parkour, since she’s more flashy and competitive. Its a similar, but different style that emphasizes more on tricks and aesthetics in the movements, instead of the pure efficiency that’s emphasized in Parko...”
[Cassie stops talking as she realizes that everyones staring at her like she’s crazy. She suddenly becomes very interested in getting putter on a slice of pumpernickel.]
Cassie: “Sorry. I got a little geeky there.”
[Wendy smiles reassuringly]
Wendy: “No, you’re fine. Just, how do you know so much about it?”
[Cassie shrugs]
Cassie: “I had a boyfriend who was REALLY into that stuff. Of course, there wasn’t a wall he could climb or a roof he could jump to get away from me after I came home and found him with my roomate...”
[Cassie’s voice is tinged with bitterness, and both Wendy and Terrence look at her uncomfortably, not entirely sure what to say. Pollaski knows what to do, however.]
*BANG!*
[Needless to say, that gavel is starting to get on people’s nerves]
Pollaski: “Well, anyways, I think that you guys are missing the most dangerous aspect of the Cherrybombs. All that resiliency and bouncing off the walls doesn’t mean jack if you don’t have the energy to do it, and THAT is what makes these two so dangerous. It’s like little nuclear reactors have been installed in them or something.”
[Terrence shrugs]
Terrence: “So all we need to do is get those reactors into a meltdown. Why is it that small people like that have so much energy anyways?”
Wendy: “Great metabolism, I’m sure...”
[Pollaski nods again, but reaches for something under the table.]
Pollaski: “I’m sure metabolism has something to do with it. But I think the real reason Belladonna is so energetic is... THIS.”
[Pollasi sets a bottle, filled with a red liquid on the table. Everyone else stares at it curiously.]
Wendy: “What is this?”
Pollaski: “This... is cherryade.”
[Dun dun DUUUUUUN!]
[Seriously, not a common drink in America]
Pollaski: [shoving the bottle at Wendy] “Go on, try it, you big wuss.”
[Wendy stares at the bottle as if she’s never seen a soft-drink before in her life. Finally, uncertainly, she unscrews the cap, and takes a swig. She immediately begins choking and sputtering, setting the bottle back on the table.]
Wendy: “S....s....sweet!!!!”
[Wendy chokes a couple more times, then dives at her water to wash the taste of cherryade out of her mouth. Terrence, looking at Wendy with concern, picks up the bottle of the liquid and sets it at the end of the table, just out of the view of the camera.]
Pollaski: [who’s naturally acting like Wendy didn’t just choke to death in front of him] “See, that stuff is so chock full of sugar, no wonder they’re always energetic.”
Wendy: [still a little raspy from coughing] “I think I’m diabetic now...”
Terrence: “Great, so essentially we’re fighting two undersized girls who are perenially hyper due to a massive sugar intake. It’s like we’ve become villains in an anime or something.”
*BANG!*
[Everyone looks over at Pollaski, Terrence definitely more annoyed than the others.]
Terrence: “Okay, give me the gavel, dude.”
[Pollaski shakes his head in defiance]
Pollaski: “No. We’re getting off track. This helps us focus.”
Terrence: “No, this irritates us. This makes us want to kill you.”
[Surprisingly, Pollaski actually beams at that prospect]
Pollaski: “Great! Take that aggression and use it to beat the Cherrybombs!”
[For a second, Terrence looks mollified. Then he lunges for the gavel, but Pollaski won’t let go. For a second, the two wrestle for the gavel.]
Pollaski: “Dude...chill... out!”
Terrence: “Give...me...the...GAVEL!”
[With one roar of exertion, Terrence rips the gavel out of Pollaski’s hands. However, as he does so, he knocks over Wendy’s water. Wendy leaps to her feet with a shriek, knocking over her chair. The waiter quickly rushes over, and hands Wendy a napkin, who immediately begins to dab the water on the front of her skirt, all the while angrily looking at Terrence and Pollaski.]
Wendy: [hissing] “Could you two start acting like ADULTS?”
[By now, their entire secton of the restaurant is staring at them. Wendy turns red from embarrassment, and, after thanking the waiter for his help cleaning up the spill, she quickly sits back in her chair, glaring daggers at her husband and manager. Terrence responds with a sheepish grin, while Pollaski sits stone-faced, pretending nothing is going on. Wendy fumes for a second, then puts on the widest, most phony smile she can manage]
Wendy: “I believe we were discussing our match?”
[Pollaski takes that as his cue to proceed, and quickly does so.]
Pollaski: “Well, any ideas on how to defuse the Cherrybombs?”
[For a second, everyone pauses and considers this question, even Cassie, who suffers from a clear lack of wrestling knowledge]
Terrence: “The legs.”
[Everyone looks over at Terrence, who shrugs]
Terrence: “Look, I don’t think there’s any doubt that if I were to stand toe to toe with either Hayley or Belladonna, I’d turn them into hamburger. They have to know that too, so they’re gonna be bouncing all over the place like hot air molecules. They can’t do all that flippy crap if we take their legs out.”
[Wendy, who also does that ‘flippy crap’, albeit to a lesser extent, grimaces, but she nods in agreement]
Wendy: “You’re right. If we can force them to lose that speed advantage, things will be much easier for us. Let me start the match, Terry. I have a better chance at keeping up with them than you would, and I know how to wear down people’s ability to move.”
[Terrence grins]
Terrence: “Just like demo derbies. Doesn’t matter how good your engine is, if your wheels are broken, you’re a sitting duck.”
[Cassie clears her throat, causing the rest of the table to look at her.]
Wendy: “What’s up, Cass?”
Cassie: “Well, you realize you just broadcasted your entire gameplan to the world?”
[Both Terrence and Wendy start laughing, and shake their heads]
Wendy: “Not really. We just said what we’re going to try and do. They don’t know how we’re going to go about doing it. I mean, there’s several different ways you can wear a leg down... submission holds, kicking, repeated dragon screws...”
Terrence: “Trust us, Cassie. Both Wendy and I are pretty creative when we’re in that ring. The Cherrybombs will be surprised indeed when they see what’s coming. We’re not dumb enough to put all our cards on the table three days before the match even happens.”
[Cassie nods, and smiles, appeased by her friends reassurances. Pollaski opens his mouth to say something else, but...]
*BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!*
Theresa Thompson: “ORDER! ORDER!”
[Everyone (and we mean EVERYONE) looks at Theresa, who’s gotten ahold of the gavel, and is doing her best Pollaski interpretation. Wendy glances from her, to the now-empty bottle of cherryade, and her face pales]
Wendy: “Oh no...”
*BANG!*
[Wendy grabs the gavel from her daughter’s hands, and tries hushing the suddenly wired four-year old.]
Wendy: [hissing] “Theresa, behave yourself! Do you want us to get kicked-”
Waiter: “Excuse me, ma’am?”
Wendy: “-out?”
[Both Wendy and Cassie turn beet red from embarrassment as they look up to see the waiter standing above them, the most insincere smile ever plastered across his face]
Waiter: “I’m sorry, but we’ve received several complaints about you and your party. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
[Terrence scoffs, thumping his chest]
Terrence: “You know who you’re freakin’ dealing with, boy? You better bring the whole kitchen staff out, because we ain’t goin til our bellies are FULL!”
[Another moment of silence, where everyone looks at Terrence, Wendy especially looks like she’s about to fling the gavel at her husband’s head. Terrence gets the hint.]
Terrence: “Alright, we’ll go. Come on, Theresa.”
[Terrence picks his child up out of her seat, and starts carrying her out of the restaurant. Cassie, looking embarrassed and crestfallen, picks up her coat and purse and follows. Wendy, looking absolutely humiliated, turns towards the waiter.]
Wendy: “Look, I’m really, really sorry about this. I don’t know what...”
[Wendy’s voice trails off as she sees the waiter is flashing her that same vacant, insincere smile.]
Wendy: “Um, look, we’re really hungry, and I’m sure our food is almost ready. Is there anyway you could box that food up and we take it to go?”
Waiter: “I’m sorry ma’am. Store policy says that-”
Wendy: “I’ll give you a fifty percent tip.”
[Wendy thrusts her credit card at the waiter, who takes it without a second thought.]
Waiter: “Please wait outside.”
[The waiter briskly walks off, leaving Wendy and Pollaski alone at the table. Around them, the rest of the restaurant is returning to their normal conversation. Wendy’s turns to grab her coat, and is reminded about the camera.]
Wendy: “Oh, God. Everyone’s going to see this. Why couldn’t they have just-”
Pollaski: “They?”
[Pollaski claps Wendy on the shoulder as he walks by, a smug smirk on his face]
Pollaski: “Wendy, how many times have I told you? It doesn’t matter which of us made the most noise, or pissed off the post people. We’re a team, and we get kicked out of restaurants as a team.”
[Wendy glares at Pollaski who grins back as he goes to grab the camera. The last thing we see is Wendy’s furious visage, her fists clenched at her side as she tries with all her will to avoid pouncing on her manager.]
[And the feed cuts]
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