Saturday March 5, 2011
The RV- Main Cabin
Santa Monica, California
7:10 PM Local Time
[The scene opens up in the main cabin of the WhirlyBirdz’ RV. Terrence Thompson is sitting on the couch, reading a copy of NASCAR Weekly, while Wendy sits beside him, looking at the television. On the TV is CNN, which is showing the latest footage of the Libyan crisis. As Wendy watches, the news shows pictures of pro-Gaddafhi soldiers fleeing as angry rebels overtake their position. With a sigh, Wendy picks up the remote, and flips the TV off]
Wendy Briese: “Isn’t it remarkable how quickly people who thrive on oppression and tyranny flee the moment the ones they tread on rise up and decide to fight back?”
[Wendy turns towards the camera, pausing for a second, gauging her thoughts. Next to her, Terrence continues to read the magazine, although the occasional glance at his wife indicates that he’s definitely listening to her.]
WB: “We’re now two weeks removed from the conclusion of the Great Panda Bash, and the events that transpired to conclude the show. Terrence and I have watched the replay of the final attack several times, trying to make sure we had everything straight before we decided upon how to proceed.”
[Terrence snorts, and shakes his head]
Terrence Thompson: “Not much to decide. Didn’t need to watch that thing at all to know that those four fuckers just signed their death warrants.”
[Wendy responds with a grim look]
WB: “Still, it’s good to know how it played out, so at the very least we can prevent something like this from ever happening again. But after watching that horrible bat dear the flesh out of Belladonna, and Terrence bleed from his head thanks to Isabella’s chair shot, you know one thing that just made me sick to my stomach?
[Wendy pauses for a second, then sighs and shakes her head in disgust]
WB: “It was the smirk on the Syn City Syndicate’s face as they passed by Drake on their way up the ramp. That smug little smirk they had as they knew the chaos that was about to transpire. It was pure Schadenfreude.”
[At the odd word, Terrence looks up from his magazine, over at Wendy, a quizzical expression on his face]
TT: “Bless you?”
[Wendy rolls her eyes.]
WB: “Schadenfreude. It’s German, Terry. Literally, ‘taking pleasure in the suffering of others’. That was on Ace Andrews and Terrence Marvin’s faces, plain as day, the moment they saw that baseball bat.”
[Wendy smiles mockingly, although the fire burning in her emerald eyes indicates that she finds little humor in the situation]
WB: “What a great moment that must have been for you two. Probably made you feel so big inside- knowing that a single man was about to wreak more havoc in seven minutes than you two have collectively done over the past month. What great challengers you’re proving yourselves to be, letting someone else do your dirty work for you.”
WB: “But I’ve noticed something since that night. It’s almost remarkable how quickly the two of you clammed up after the Great Panda Bash went off the air. Interesting, considering that neither of you could shut up in the weeks beforehand about how great you were. Now, silence. Did Ace Andrews learn some humility after being trapped in the Banshee? Did the great Terrence Marvin decide to take a moment and rethink his strategy?”
[Scoff]
WB: “Hardly. You shut up, because we stood up.”
[Another grim smile from Wendy. Terrence, sensing his wife’s intensity, sets aside his magazine, the better to listen to her.]
WB: “The moment the Zoo 15 lineup went up, your fate was sealed. You hoped that Drakes surprise attack would knock us out of commission. You thought it would end the war right then and there.”
WB: “Well, to quote the famous Japanese Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto, ‘All you’ve done is awaken a sleeping giant, and fill him with a terrible resolve.’”
[Tora! Tora! Tora!]
WB: “Because now you have to face the united front of the Cherrybombs and the WhirlyBirdz, and trust me when I say that we’ll be more than able to coexist. Our rivalry was never personal- we’re not two enemy teams forced together by circumstance. The Birdz and the Bombs are two teams that have pushed each other to the limit several times, and the four of us all have a ton of respect for each other.”
[A slight smile of expectation]
WB: “Terrence and I are honored to stand side by side with Belladonna and Hayley Dark, and if it’s to drive away a common enemy that has sullied our great company, then so much the better.”
WB: “Can you say the same thing for your partners? Can the Syn City Syndicate and the Anti-Social Network seriously look each other in the eye with any amount of trust and respect? Or will one of you shove the other aside the moment it becomes convenient to do so.”
[Wendy shakes her head, as if she already knows the answer]
WB: “Unfortunately for you, Terry, Ace, your ‘allies’ track record speaks for itself.”
WB: “If there’s anyone in this company that is truly a dangerous person, it’s Joey Flash. He’s ruthless, cold, calculating, and most importantly, he’s achieved some measure of success through his methods. In a way, he reminds me a lot of my father...”
[Wendy involuntarily shudders, but manages to continue]
WB: “But the glory of professional wrestling is- once that bell rings, all those layers and subterfuge are easily ripped away. Everything becomes simple- all you have to do is beat your opponent. All his scheming will mean nothing if he can’t back it up in the ring, and I hope I can be the one to expose him, and show the world that Joey Flash is just as beatable as anyone else in this business.”
WB: “Of course, I’ll have to get through his new ‘friend’ first... Drake.”
[Wendy’s face immediately turns into an expression of digust.]
WB: “You seem to fancy yourself as some-sort of wild psychotic, like a villain in a horror movie. You talk of hanging people from meathooks, like in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, or making reference to the Blair Witch Project. It’s almost as if you’re auditioning to be the next Jason Voorhees.”
[Terrence interrupts with a chuckle, forcing Wendy to look over at him. Terrence flashes that mischievous grin he’s so famous for.]
TT: “Heh, I’d have put him more along the lines of Norman Bates from Psycho. After all, ‘a boy’s best friend is his mother!’”
[Wendy nods and smiles placidly, as if she’s not quite understanding, and merely tolerating, what her husband just said. She turns back to the camera, opening her mouth to speak, before she remembers the aspects of Drake’s bio. Her head immediately snaps back to Terrence in a classic double-take, her expression scandalized]
WB: “Terrence Thompson, that is NOT funny.”
[Terrence’s grin seems to indicate he thinks otherwise]
TT: “Sorry, hon. Couldn’t resist.”
[Wendy sighs, and shakes her head, turning back to the camera]
WB: “Drake, unfortunately for you, this isn’t a real horror movie. You’re not dealing with lost travelers who’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere, and you’re definitely not dealing with college students running around the woods looking for a ghost.”
WB: “No, you’re dealing with four fully-trained, highly capable professional wrestlers. Every single one of which is more than irritated with you over the little stunt you pulled a couple weeks ago.”
[Again, Wendy’s looking fairly irritated]
WB: “See, Drake, I understand that you’ve had hardships in your life, and that’s regrettable. But you seem to think that you’re the only one who’s ever had any sort of adversity to his life. My own parent’s relationship turned out to be a lie, to the point where my father ended up murdering my mother. Terrence’s parents were killed in a car accident when he was five, because his uncle installed defective brakes on the car.”
[Suddenly, Terrence looks extremely uncomfortable, a rare sight for him. He leans over to Wendy, who is doing her best to remain matter-of-fact]
TT: “Uh, you really gotta be bringing this up?”
[Wendy looks over at her husband, an expression of sympathy on her face]
WB: “Yes, Terry. It’s relevant. Because Drake seems to think that the bumps in his past give him an excuse to be the way he is.”
[Wendy turns back to the camera, putting on the best fake-smile she can muster]
WB: “So really, Drake, drop this whole ‘violent psychopath’ facade. I’ve seen it done before, and I’ve seen it done better. You don’t come off scary- you come off as some foul-mouth, dirty-minded, six-foot three, two hundred fifty pound toddler that’s throwing a tantrum. Now, you’re big enough to do some damage, and you certainly did last week, but its only a matter of time before a grown-up comes along and puts a stop to it.”
[Wendy shakes her head]
WB: “No, the only thing creepy about you is the odd fascination you’ve somehow developed about my sex life. And THAT, Drake, will continue to remain none of your business.”
[Wendy pauses for just a second, and Terrence, scratching his chin, interrupts]
TT: “You know hon, I’ve been wondering. Drake said that, *ahem*, ‘I don’t give you any’, and yet, we’re committing incest. How is that physically possible.”
[Wendy glances at her husband, her expression one of utter disgust]
WB: “Terry? Honest to God, that is like the LEAST of what was wrong with Drake’s promo...”
[Long Pause]
TT: “Good point.”
[Terrence gestures for Wendy to continue, which she does]
WB: “The time for sneak attacks is over, gentlemen. You had your fun, and you all certainly did your damage. But you ultimately failed in your goals- we’re still standing, and now, it’s our turn. There’s only so far that I’m willing to allow myself to be pushed, and all four of you have crossed that line. And now its time for payback.”
[A final, grim smile]
WB: “And when it comes to the WhirlyBirdz, we give payback the best way we know how.”
[Wendy slaps her hand on her knee once, twice, thrice, her cadence the exact same as a referees count. Next to her, Terrence breaks out into a smirk to compliment his wife’s grimace, as the scene fades out.]
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
EPISODE 83: What a Shock
Monday February 21, 2011
Cedars-Sinai Medical Center- Room 217
West Hollywood, California
11:05 PM Local Time
“Mommy!”
The sound of my daughter’s delighted squeal caused me to look up, and smile as she bonded into the room I was being kept in. “There’s my little girl!”
Despite the throbbing pain in my head, I hopped down off the examination table, and scooped Theresa up in my arms, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, and bouncing her in my arms. Theresa wrapped her arms around my neck, and returned the kiss, and I hugged her close, smiling quietly at Cassie as she walked into the room. My nanny was normally fair-skinned, but the events of the evening had turned her nearly ghost white. I supposed I couldn’t blame her- I had managed to see the replay from the show, and the hit I had taken was certainly scarier than it looked.
Luckily, I had seen the first blow coming, and had taken only a glancing hit, although a nail did scrape a small laceration across my forehead. The return hit was worse- I had been too stunned to avoid it, and as a result, had required thirteen stitches to the back of my head. I knew I was extremely lucky- a direct blow like that could have put an eye out, or even crippled or killed me.
Even more fortuitous, Theresa hadn’t seen the attack, and both Terrence and I had been able to downplay our injuries in front of her long enough to get to the hospital. Still, I knew she was worried any time she saw her parents banged up and bleeding, and it broke my heart to know that it scared her.
Finally, the weight of my daughter became too much for me to bear in my condition, and I set her down. Cassie smiled sympathetically at me, although I couldn’t miss the look of reproach in her eyes.
“A nail-studded bat?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What the hell is wrong with this sport?”
I could only shake my head in silence, having no answer to the question. As tired and sore as I was, there was a part of me that was burning in anger. I had never liked the use of weapons in professional wrestling to begin with- I felt it cheapened the technical aspects of the sport. But I knew that there were fans (and, for some reason, wrestlers themselves), who enjoyed that aspect of competition. To each his own, I always figured.
But how DARE this man, this Drake Black, walk down the ramp with a weapon like that, and just start hitting people? How DARE this man, who I’d never met before in my life, try to end my career or even kill me just because I was there?
I knew I was in a dangerous line of work- every time I walked towards that ring, I knew the risks I was taking. But being hurt in the heat of a match was one thing, what happened tonight wasn’t even close to that. I was furious- I wasn’t going to lose my career, my health, my LIFE because some scraggly newcomer walked in off the street and started swinging!
“Where’s Terrence?” Cassie’s voice broke into my thoughts, and I turned towards her. I realized that I had clenched my fists so tight that my nails had dug into my skin. Taking a deep breath, I opened my palms, and looked over at Theresa, making sure she was out of earshot.
“They took him to another part of the hospital,” I said quietly. “I heard one of them say they feared a skull fracture.”
Even though he had been hit with a chair, and not a spiked bat, the doctors immediately considered Terrence to be the more injured of the two of us. It made me uneasy- Terrence had just gotten out of the hospital after Szailinski’s attack, and I didn’t want to see him have to go back in again. After the sutures, I was already cleared for release. I could only pray that my husband could go home tonight too. But right now, my hopes weren’t high.
“Do you know about Belladonna and Hayley?” I asked.
Cassie shrugged. “I saw them bringing Belladonna in, she looked pretty messed up, but I guess she was conscious. I never saw Hayley.”
I nodded, and looked down at Theresa, who was reading an issue of Highlites that had been left on a small table. “It’s not right,” I finally whispered. “Trixie, Hayley. They didn’t deserve that. None of us did.”
Cassie looked to say something, but we both looked up as a doctor walked into the room, his nose buried in his clipboard for a couple minutes, before looking up. “Mrs. Thompson?”
“That’s me,” I said. Even though I still wrestled under my maiden name (and legally had a hyphenated version), I never had a problem answering to ‘Thompson’. “How’s Terry?”
The doctor buried his nose in his clipboard again, for what seemed like an excruciatingly long time. Finally, he looked up. “Your husband required eleven stitches to the back of his head, but luckily the X-rays came out negative for a skull fracture. However, we do think that he re-agitated the concussion he suffered a couple weeks ago. We’re going to have to do an MRI and a CATSCAN in the morning.”
I sighed, closing my eyes. “He’s not going to like that.”
“So we noticed,” the doctor replied wryly. “In fact, your husband has been fairly agitated, and uncooperative. In fact, that’s why I’m here, hoping you might be able to help us calm him down. Our efforts to sedate him have proven... fruitless.”
“What efforts to sedate him?” I asked, suddenly not liking where this is going.
“Morphine distributed intravenously,” the doctor replied. “Unfortunately, he threw the orderlies off...”
“So, let me get this straight,” I asked, feeling anger rising up in me. “You tried to hook my husband up to an IV AGAINST HIS WILL? What kind of operation are you running here?!”
The doctor seemed nonplussed in the face of my fury. “It was deemed necessary by three separate well qualified doctors that your husband be sedated for his own safety, as well as the safety of-”
*CRASH*
The sound a disturbance in the hallway cut off the doctor, and he looked at me, somewhat bewildered. Tucking the clipboard under his arm, he ran to the door, looking out to see the disturbance.
“Clear, Motherfucker!”
*ZAP!*
The doctor went flying back into the room, and Theresa shrieked and jumped out of the way as he slid towards her, completely unconscious. She then looked up, and shrieked again as my husband walked into the room, still wearing the modified firesuit he wore as his ring gear. Around his head was a tightly wrapped bandage, and he was sporting a black eye. Nonetheless, he was smiling ferociously. In his hands were two paddles of a defibrillator, the machine being wheeled behind him on a cart by Pollaski, who was also grinning.
As Cassie and I stared at Terrence, our mouths open in horror, Theresa bounded towards him, arms open for a hug, but stopped as Terrence waved her away.
“No touching daddy right now, Terr-Bear. He’s supercharged!”
I looked at my husband in disbelief. “Terrence, what the HELL are you doing?”
“Getting out of here,” he replied calmly, giving me a smile. “You guys ready to go?”
“Go where?” I snapped back, feeling hysteria rising in me. “Chuckawalla Valley Prison on assault charges?”
Terrence waved his hand in dismissal. “Nah. No jury in the world would convict me.” He paused, then looked back over at Pollaski. “Why was that again?”
Pollaski cleared his throat, and spoke in an official sounding voice. “My client was driven temporarily insane due to the fear caused when he was unauthorizedly restrained against his will by undertrained hospital staff, who then proceeded to attempt to jam a needle into his arm.”
Next to me, Cassie scoffed. “Unauthorizedly?”
Pollaski smirked, and waved a dismissive hand. “I haven’t gotten all the legalspeak worked out, but trust me, it’s rock solid. And think of the lawsuit damages!”
“We figure I could buy at least a Camping World Truck race team with the settlement,” Terrence replied, grinning at me. For my part, my mouth was gaped open, but I couldn’t even find the words to talk.
“Dude!” Pollaski was pointing at the still-unconscious doctor, who, I was horrified to see, had dark splotches forming on his pants. “I TOLD you that you could get the bladder to go!”
“Oh, big whoop, one out of six.” Terrence snapped back, rolling his eyes.
“YOU ELECTROCUTED SIX PEOPLE?”
I had finally found my voice.
Terrence looked at me like I was crazy, and scoffed. “Well, yeah. How you think we got out of there? I was fine when they gave me stitches, but then they were all like ‘you have a concussion, you’re staying the night’, and I was all ‘no, I’m not’, and they were all ‘yes you are’, and I was all ‘make me,’ and they were all ‘okay,’ and so I grabbed the defibrillator and was all like ‘now what?’”
I had lost my ability to speak again, and could only stare at my husband in disbelief. He frowned at the look I was giving him. “Don’t be like that. Everyone’s fine. Just a little shaken up.”
“Well, there was that one guy we thought we killed,” Pollaski interjected. “So we shocked him again, just to be safe.”
“And we said we weren’t going to tell her about that,” Terrence snarled through clenched teeth. “So, you guys ready to go or what? I figure we can hit up DQ on the way home for some Blizzards. I’m hungry as heck.”
Theresa whooped at the prospect of ice cream, but I only stood rooted to the spot. This was a bad dream. I wasn’t in a hospital. This wasn’t my husband. None of this happened. Any moment I was going to wake up and-
“L.A.P.D! EVERYONE GET DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW!”
“Ah, dammit,” Terrence looked at me like and Cassie like this was somehow our fault. “We took too long.”
“Any volunteers to charge at the cops?” Pollaski asked, glancing out the rooms door into the hallway “Only two of them have drawn their guns, and I bet we could get a hell of a police brutality settlement.”
Needless to say, there were no takers, and Terrence grimaced. “Alright, everyone lie down. You too, Theresa.”
Our daughter, not entirely comprehending what was going on, complied with a bellyflop, as I slowly and painfully lowered myself to the floor. “Terrence, I swear to God, if I end up with a criminal record-”
Finally, all five of us were on the floor, waiting for the cops to come in and get us. I glanced over at Cassie, who had tears running down her face, and was whispering over and over again to herself.
“I’m too pretty for jail... I’m too pretty for jail... I’m too pretty for jail...”
Somehow, I don’t think the cops cared.
========================================
Tuesday March 1, 2011
The RV- Main Cabin
Phoenix, Arizona
2:11 PM Local Time
Terrence Thompson: “Well, Val. I hope you’re fucking happy.”
[No charges filed! How bout them apples!]
[Apparently, Pollaski was right, and the hospital, realizing that they had a MASSIVE lawsuit on their hands if this went to the courts, copped a deal to not file charges if the Birdz wouldn’t file a suit. Terrence and Pollaski wanted to hold out, and see if they could get the best of both worlds, but Wendy (under threats of a divorce) convinced them to take the deal. So, by morning, the family were free as the Birdz (HA! Get it?) and off to Albuquerque for Wendy’s next X3W match.]
[Even better, the RV got fixed, so the Birdz are once again stylin’ and profilin’ in their Newmar King Aire. Which is where we open up the scene today. It’s been about a week, so both Birdz are looking significantly better than they did the night of the Bash. Terrence’s head bandage is gone, as his his black eye, although he still has a couple scrapes. Wendy’s forehead lacerations mostly healed as well, as both Birdz sit on the hide-a-bed in the RV’s main cabin]
[However, upon hearing her husband’s intro, WEndy immediately looks over at Terrence, pleading in her eyes.]
Wendy Briese: “Terry, please-”
[But Terrence cuts her off with a wave, and shakes his head.]
TT: “No, hon, sorry. I gotta say it. Ownership’s piss-poor judgement let the main event of their own goddamned Supercard get wrecked. She and Cammilla stuck the Syn City Syndicate at ringside, when even Hellen Keller could have seen that having them there was going to lead to disaster. And lo and freaking behold, it did. Belladonna’s win, my defeat, everything about that contest got tainted because those two idiots got involved, and Val signed the order to stick them there.”
[Wendy looks awfully uncomfortable, but Terrence continues with a shrug]
TT: “So maybe I was right all along. Maybe Valerie Belmont was so terrified of having me as the Undisputed Panda Champion, she was willing to let this match, the main event of one of the four BIGGEST shows on her company’s calendar, get wrecked by a couple of two-bit card sharks from Las Vegas. Way to send the paying fans home happy. And it’s a damned shame too, because all I was doing was trying to help.”
[Wendy looks over at Terrence skeptically]
WB: “Help?”
TT: “Yeah, help. I said it first day I entered this company, and I’ve held to it, ever since then. Catholic Panda Wrestling is a fine company, and it has the potential to be at the forefront of professional wrestling companies the world over. But it’s been lacking that ‘it’ factor. That person up top that people could really, truly get behind, and know that they were watching a champion that was legitimately the best in the world. I had planned on being that guy.”
[Terrence shrugs again, pulling a nonchalant air]
TT: “Ah, well, no matter, because it more or less worked out in the end.”
WB: “It did?”
[Terrence nods slowly, then solemnly turns to the camera]
TT: “Belladonna, you beat me. It wasn’t clean, and it sure as hell wasn’t decisive, but you got me in that ring, one, two, three. It wasn’t a fluke, we both had the opportunity there at the end, and you took it a split second before I could. And trust me when I say, if you can beat Terrence Thompson with the title on the line, you’re legit. So congratulations, champ, and for the time being, enjoy your reign, because at the Great Panda Bash, you deserved it.”
WB: “You’re taking this rather well...”
[Terrence grimaces]
TT: “Well, obviously I’m a bit disappointed, and the reasons for me winning that belt weren’t ENTIRELY altruistic, but unfortunately, World Title reign number six has been postponed for a little while. But you can rest assured, Belladonna, that I will be back for that title, and the next time we face, the outcome is going to be very different. But in the meantime, enjoy your win, and bask in the glory of the highest point in your career.”
[Wendy turns back to her husband, an expression of a mixture of exasperation and amusement on her face]
WB: “That might be the most self-effacing admission of defeat ever.”
[Terrence throws up his hands, and looks over at Wendy]
TT: “What do you want from me? I don’t have to swallow my pride very often here, so it’s not like I’ve had practice at it! Let me give credit where credit is due, so we can move on to other matters.”
WB: “Like how you and Belladonna have to make the uneasy transition from nemeses to allies?”
[A nod from Terrence]
TT: “Well, that, and other things. I think it goes without saying that I’m not happy with how the Great Panda Bash turned out, and trust me when I say that the result of my match is the LEAST of what’s gotten me pissed. Suddenly, it’s war on all fronts for us. I mean, we maybe allied with the Cherrybombs this week, but I have no illusions that the moment the opportunity presents itself, Belladonna and Dark are going to be going after our titles. And of course, there’s this Midnight Society, who’ve arrived, or revealed themselves, or whatever. That’s such a big deal they couldn’t even get a match on the fallout show.”
WB: “Which means they’re likely going to be hanging in the back, looking for an opening to make another attack.”
TT: “Probably. Or maybe they’ll just stand around and whine about everything. After all, one of them’s a McIntyre.”
[Big grin there]
TT: “Either way, I hope they’re watching, because despite the fact that we have more pressing issues this week, we haven’t forgotten about them, and their time will come. But for now, it’s time for the Anti-Social Network and the Syn City Syndicate to get their due. Might as well start with the Syndicate...”
[Terrence shifts his position a bit, and looks directly at the camera]
TT: “So, Terry. Ace. You boys still think the WhirlyBirdz and the tag titles are easy pickings?”
[Smirk]
TT: “Now, I know that Marvin managed to squeak out a win over Hayley Dark, and good for him. But his partner, Ace Andrews? Not even close. Wendy kicked his ass from one side of the ring to the other, and back again, until locked Ace in that Banshee of hers, and made him tap like Samuel Morse.”
[Wendy suddenly turns and looks sharply at her husband, an expression of disbelief on her face.]
TT: “What?”
WB: “That’s like, the second nineteenth century reference you’ve thrown out today...”
[Terrence grins at his wife]
TT: “What can I say? I’m feeling a bit retro today. You know, goin’ old school.”
[Despite herself, Wendy smiles softly]
WB: “That’s really old school.”
TT: “So old school, the textbooks are in hieroglyphics!”
WB: “Not THAT old school...”
TT: “Well, I can go old school or new, whatever works. I’m versatile like that But the Syn City Syndicate can’t go ANY school, because they’ve got NO class!”
[Wendy has pretty much the same reaction you just did- FACEPALM]
TT: “Uh oh, there goes Terrence Thompson, making jokes again! Must not be taking this match seriously. Or maybe I’m just letting off a little bit of steam here, because to be honest right now, I’ve got quite a bit of aggression building up, and I ain’t gonna make it until the seventh if I don’t let some out.”
[The smirk on his face is mostly gone now, only a trace remains as he looks back at the camera]
TT: “Terry, Ace, Wendy may have gotten some modicum of payback on you guys when she made Andrews tap out, but your account still has a pretty big balance in it, and you idiots just keep on insisting upon adding to it. You already had a pretty big debt from that attack at the last Zoo, and we haven’t even started on that little stunt you boys played at the Great Panda Bash.”
TT: “It was bad enough that my poor wife had to stand next to you booze-breathed cretins for about twenty minutes as lumberjacks, but then you boys had to get involved, and after you said you weren’t going to, to boot. Then again, you both are supposedly good poker players, so I guess you can take pride in your ‘bluff’.”
TT: “The thing is, every action has a consequence, and you two are in for some serious consequences. I don’t like my matches being interrupted, and you two tainted that contest with your presence. And it goes a lot deeper than that. This was the MAIN-EVENT of a SUPERCARD, kids. A lot of people payed a lot of money to watch the match you two wrecked.. Of course, I wouldn’t expect you two to understand this, given that Belladonna and I were fighting over a title that neither of you have any hope of ever getting near.”
[Terrence arches his eyebrows, and the smirk widens just a bit more]
TT: “The bill just keeps adding up, gentlemen, and on Monday, you can rest assured that collections will begin in full. And I guarantee that this will be a LOT more painful than annoying phone calls during dinner. By the time Wendy and I are done with you, you won’t be able to crawl back to ROP, or APW, or whatever piece-of-crap fed you came from fast enough.”
TT: “And of course, there’s the final pair in this puzzle of irritation, the Anti-Social Network. First of all, cute name. Did you guys come up with it all by yourself?”
[Wendy can’t help but chuckle at Terrence’s mocking tone, and she looks over at her husband]
WB: “Not very accurate either. They seemed pretty ‘outgoing’ at the last show...”
TT: “Yeah, well, it was definitely a big debut for the big guy. I mean, look at all the names Drake managed to take out during that show. Aoraki, Wendy Briese, Hayley Dark, and Belladonna. Impressive, right?”
TT: “Funny enough, there’s one guy left off that list, Drake. You see, I’ve already tangoed with you, and I can already tell that beyond your cute little spikey bat, there isn’t much to you. You beat up your equally overrated brother, you blindsided Wendy and Hayley, and you got Belladonna into a two on one situation. What a tough son of a bitch you are.”
[A bit of sarcasm here]
TT: “But the moment you had to dance with the Mechanical Mayhem, you were doomed. Had it not been for the Teeny-Weeny Pazzini and her serendipitous chairshot, you’d have gone on the Last Lap before the green flag of your CPW career even waved.”
TT: “Little Izzy shoulda hit me harder when she had the chance, Drake, because all she did was postpone the inevitable. She ain’t gonna be around to save your hairy hide Monday, my manager will make sure she keeps her overgrown, beaky nose outta this. The only think keeping you from me exposing you as the biggest fraud this side of a Ponzi Scheme are two Vegas drunkards and Joey Flash. Not good odds, my friend.”
TT: “Speaking of Flash. Congratulations on your triumphant return from the annals of... wherever the fuck you went.”
[Wendy looks over at her husband, surprised he didn’t remember]
WB: “Prison. He was arrested on murder charges.”
[No word whether or not it was Chuckawalla Valley. Which is the coolest name for a prison EVER]
TT: “Murder? Wow. I thought if people killed themselves so that they’d never have to see him on the television again, it’d still count as suicide.”
[Wendy shoots her husband a glare that very clearly says ‘that’s not funny’]
TT: “Anyways, Joey. Good job. Because Belladonna might have ‘missed’, but you didn’t. In fact, you scored a huge, perfect bullseye with your return last week. Unfortunately, that’s not as good a thing as you might think.”
TT: “You see, Joey, when you aimed at Belladonna, you chose the wrong weapon. You didn’t make a quick, tactical strike. You didn’t just snipe Belladonna, and end your war there. No, you dropped a bomb. A huge fucking Daisy Cutter, right in the middle of the ring, without any regard for collateral damage. And that, Mr. Flash, is the mistake that will prove to be your undoing.”
[Terrence’s smile’s gone for the most part now, and Wendy, although she remains silent, looks at the camera furiously]
TT: “Joey, I don’t like being collateral damage. And I sure as hell don’t like my wife being collateral damage. And so, whether you wanted to or not, you’ve added two more names to your ever-growing list of enemies. And unlike the rest of the people you’ve screwed over, Wendy and I don’t have to wait very long at all to get revenge.”
TT: “I’d like to think of myself as an easy-going guy. I like the simple things in life- a loving family under my roof, great food on my table, and a kickass stock-car race playing out on my television. I train hard for my matches, and I wrestle to win, but I’m a guy who likes to have some fun, and maybe chafe a few nerves from humorless bastards in the process.”
[Terrence shakes his head, a his face now a mixture of disgust and anger]
TT: “But there’s a line for everything, and I’m not going to stand for the bullshit that happened at the Bash. I’m not going to stand for THREE seperate tag teams coming in, and trying to play Whak-a-Bird on either Wendy or me. I won’t stand for any member of my family, including myself, being sent to the hospital for something that occurred outside a match. And I sure as hell am not going to stand for a good woman like Belladonna getting torn up like she did there. I don’t give a DAMN if she’s the fucking champion, there’s some things you just don’t do to a woman, especially when she’s tired from wrestling a match like the one we had.”
[Chivalry, yo]
TT: “The billing on the marquee may say ‘eight-man tag match’, but we all know that’s bullshit. There ain’t eight-men in this match- one corner has one man, and three women. The other corner offers little more than four overgrown cockroaches who have somehow managed to sneak into the Zoo Arena. Between them and the Midnight Society, CPW is suffering from one hell of an infestation.”
[One final smirk from Terrence, and he leans forward in his seat, intensity in his movement]
TT: “I guess it’s up to me to play exterminator.”
[Fade]
Cedars-Sinai Medical Center- Room 217
West Hollywood, California
11:05 PM Local Time
“Mommy!”
The sound of my daughter’s delighted squeal caused me to look up, and smile as she bonded into the room I was being kept in. “There’s my little girl!”
Despite the throbbing pain in my head, I hopped down off the examination table, and scooped Theresa up in my arms, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, and bouncing her in my arms. Theresa wrapped her arms around my neck, and returned the kiss, and I hugged her close, smiling quietly at Cassie as she walked into the room. My nanny was normally fair-skinned, but the events of the evening had turned her nearly ghost white. I supposed I couldn’t blame her- I had managed to see the replay from the show, and the hit I had taken was certainly scarier than it looked.
Luckily, I had seen the first blow coming, and had taken only a glancing hit, although a nail did scrape a small laceration across my forehead. The return hit was worse- I had been too stunned to avoid it, and as a result, had required thirteen stitches to the back of my head. I knew I was extremely lucky- a direct blow like that could have put an eye out, or even crippled or killed me.
Even more fortuitous, Theresa hadn’t seen the attack, and both Terrence and I had been able to downplay our injuries in front of her long enough to get to the hospital. Still, I knew she was worried any time she saw her parents banged up and bleeding, and it broke my heart to know that it scared her.
Finally, the weight of my daughter became too much for me to bear in my condition, and I set her down. Cassie smiled sympathetically at me, although I couldn’t miss the look of reproach in her eyes.
“A nail-studded bat?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What the hell is wrong with this sport?”
I could only shake my head in silence, having no answer to the question. As tired and sore as I was, there was a part of me that was burning in anger. I had never liked the use of weapons in professional wrestling to begin with- I felt it cheapened the technical aspects of the sport. But I knew that there were fans (and, for some reason, wrestlers themselves), who enjoyed that aspect of competition. To each his own, I always figured.
But how DARE this man, this Drake Black, walk down the ramp with a weapon like that, and just start hitting people? How DARE this man, who I’d never met before in my life, try to end my career or even kill me just because I was there?
I knew I was in a dangerous line of work- every time I walked towards that ring, I knew the risks I was taking. But being hurt in the heat of a match was one thing, what happened tonight wasn’t even close to that. I was furious- I wasn’t going to lose my career, my health, my LIFE because some scraggly newcomer walked in off the street and started swinging!
“Where’s Terrence?” Cassie’s voice broke into my thoughts, and I turned towards her. I realized that I had clenched my fists so tight that my nails had dug into my skin. Taking a deep breath, I opened my palms, and looked over at Theresa, making sure she was out of earshot.
“They took him to another part of the hospital,” I said quietly. “I heard one of them say they feared a skull fracture.”
Even though he had been hit with a chair, and not a spiked bat, the doctors immediately considered Terrence to be the more injured of the two of us. It made me uneasy- Terrence had just gotten out of the hospital after Szailinski’s attack, and I didn’t want to see him have to go back in again. After the sutures, I was already cleared for release. I could only pray that my husband could go home tonight too. But right now, my hopes weren’t high.
“Do you know about Belladonna and Hayley?” I asked.
Cassie shrugged. “I saw them bringing Belladonna in, she looked pretty messed up, but I guess she was conscious. I never saw Hayley.”
I nodded, and looked down at Theresa, who was reading an issue of Highlites that had been left on a small table. “It’s not right,” I finally whispered. “Trixie, Hayley. They didn’t deserve that. None of us did.”
Cassie looked to say something, but we both looked up as a doctor walked into the room, his nose buried in his clipboard for a couple minutes, before looking up. “Mrs. Thompson?”
“That’s me,” I said. Even though I still wrestled under my maiden name (and legally had a hyphenated version), I never had a problem answering to ‘Thompson’. “How’s Terry?”
The doctor buried his nose in his clipboard again, for what seemed like an excruciatingly long time. Finally, he looked up. “Your husband required eleven stitches to the back of his head, but luckily the X-rays came out negative for a skull fracture. However, we do think that he re-agitated the concussion he suffered a couple weeks ago. We’re going to have to do an MRI and a CATSCAN in the morning.”
I sighed, closing my eyes. “He’s not going to like that.”
“So we noticed,” the doctor replied wryly. “In fact, your husband has been fairly agitated, and uncooperative. In fact, that’s why I’m here, hoping you might be able to help us calm him down. Our efforts to sedate him have proven... fruitless.”
“What efforts to sedate him?” I asked, suddenly not liking where this is going.
“Morphine distributed intravenously,” the doctor replied. “Unfortunately, he threw the orderlies off...”
“So, let me get this straight,” I asked, feeling anger rising up in me. “You tried to hook my husband up to an IV AGAINST HIS WILL? What kind of operation are you running here?!”
The doctor seemed nonplussed in the face of my fury. “It was deemed necessary by three separate well qualified doctors that your husband be sedated for his own safety, as well as the safety of-”
*CRASH*
The sound a disturbance in the hallway cut off the doctor, and he looked at me, somewhat bewildered. Tucking the clipboard under his arm, he ran to the door, looking out to see the disturbance.
“Clear, Motherfucker!”
*ZAP!*
The doctor went flying back into the room, and Theresa shrieked and jumped out of the way as he slid towards her, completely unconscious. She then looked up, and shrieked again as my husband walked into the room, still wearing the modified firesuit he wore as his ring gear. Around his head was a tightly wrapped bandage, and he was sporting a black eye. Nonetheless, he was smiling ferociously. In his hands were two paddles of a defibrillator, the machine being wheeled behind him on a cart by Pollaski, who was also grinning.
As Cassie and I stared at Terrence, our mouths open in horror, Theresa bounded towards him, arms open for a hug, but stopped as Terrence waved her away.
“No touching daddy right now, Terr-Bear. He’s supercharged!”
I looked at my husband in disbelief. “Terrence, what the HELL are you doing?”
“Getting out of here,” he replied calmly, giving me a smile. “You guys ready to go?”
“Go where?” I snapped back, feeling hysteria rising in me. “Chuckawalla Valley Prison on assault charges?”
Terrence waved his hand in dismissal. “Nah. No jury in the world would convict me.” He paused, then looked back over at Pollaski. “Why was that again?”
Pollaski cleared his throat, and spoke in an official sounding voice. “My client was driven temporarily insane due to the fear caused when he was unauthorizedly restrained against his will by undertrained hospital staff, who then proceeded to attempt to jam a needle into his arm.”
Next to me, Cassie scoffed. “Unauthorizedly?”
Pollaski smirked, and waved a dismissive hand. “I haven’t gotten all the legalspeak worked out, but trust me, it’s rock solid. And think of the lawsuit damages!”
“We figure I could buy at least a Camping World Truck race team with the settlement,” Terrence replied, grinning at me. For my part, my mouth was gaped open, but I couldn’t even find the words to talk.
“Dude!” Pollaski was pointing at the still-unconscious doctor, who, I was horrified to see, had dark splotches forming on his pants. “I TOLD you that you could get the bladder to go!”
“Oh, big whoop, one out of six.” Terrence snapped back, rolling his eyes.
“YOU ELECTROCUTED SIX PEOPLE?”
I had finally found my voice.
Terrence looked at me like I was crazy, and scoffed. “Well, yeah. How you think we got out of there? I was fine when they gave me stitches, but then they were all like ‘you have a concussion, you’re staying the night’, and I was all ‘no, I’m not’, and they were all ‘yes you are’, and I was all ‘make me,’ and they were all ‘okay,’ and so I grabbed the defibrillator and was all like ‘now what?’”
I had lost my ability to speak again, and could only stare at my husband in disbelief. He frowned at the look I was giving him. “Don’t be like that. Everyone’s fine. Just a little shaken up.”
“Well, there was that one guy we thought we killed,” Pollaski interjected. “So we shocked him again, just to be safe.”
“And we said we weren’t going to tell her about that,” Terrence snarled through clenched teeth. “So, you guys ready to go or what? I figure we can hit up DQ on the way home for some Blizzards. I’m hungry as heck.”
Theresa whooped at the prospect of ice cream, but I only stood rooted to the spot. This was a bad dream. I wasn’t in a hospital. This wasn’t my husband. None of this happened. Any moment I was going to wake up and-
“L.A.P.D! EVERYONE GET DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW!”
“Ah, dammit,” Terrence looked at me like and Cassie like this was somehow our fault. “We took too long.”
“Any volunteers to charge at the cops?” Pollaski asked, glancing out the rooms door into the hallway “Only two of them have drawn their guns, and I bet we could get a hell of a police brutality settlement.”
Needless to say, there were no takers, and Terrence grimaced. “Alright, everyone lie down. You too, Theresa.”
Our daughter, not entirely comprehending what was going on, complied with a bellyflop, as I slowly and painfully lowered myself to the floor. “Terrence, I swear to God, if I end up with a criminal record-”
Finally, all five of us were on the floor, waiting for the cops to come in and get us. I glanced over at Cassie, who had tears running down her face, and was whispering over and over again to herself.
“I’m too pretty for jail... I’m too pretty for jail... I’m too pretty for jail...”
Somehow, I don’t think the cops cared.
========================================
Tuesday March 1, 2011
The RV- Main Cabin
Phoenix, Arizona
2:11 PM Local Time
Terrence Thompson: “Well, Val. I hope you’re fucking happy.”
[No charges filed! How bout them apples!]
[Apparently, Pollaski was right, and the hospital, realizing that they had a MASSIVE lawsuit on their hands if this went to the courts, copped a deal to not file charges if the Birdz wouldn’t file a suit. Terrence and Pollaski wanted to hold out, and see if they could get the best of both worlds, but Wendy (under threats of a divorce) convinced them to take the deal. So, by morning, the family were free as the Birdz (HA! Get it?) and off to Albuquerque for Wendy’s next X3W match.]
[Even better, the RV got fixed, so the Birdz are once again stylin’ and profilin’ in their Newmar King Aire. Which is where we open up the scene today. It’s been about a week, so both Birdz are looking significantly better than they did the night of the Bash. Terrence’s head bandage is gone, as his his black eye, although he still has a couple scrapes. Wendy’s forehead lacerations mostly healed as well, as both Birdz sit on the hide-a-bed in the RV’s main cabin]
[However, upon hearing her husband’s intro, WEndy immediately looks over at Terrence, pleading in her eyes.]
Wendy Briese: “Terry, please-”
[But Terrence cuts her off with a wave, and shakes his head.]
TT: “No, hon, sorry. I gotta say it. Ownership’s piss-poor judgement let the main event of their own goddamned Supercard get wrecked. She and Cammilla stuck the Syn City Syndicate at ringside, when even Hellen Keller could have seen that having them there was going to lead to disaster. And lo and freaking behold, it did. Belladonna’s win, my defeat, everything about that contest got tainted because those two idiots got involved, and Val signed the order to stick them there.”
[Wendy looks awfully uncomfortable, but Terrence continues with a shrug]
TT: “So maybe I was right all along. Maybe Valerie Belmont was so terrified of having me as the Undisputed Panda Champion, she was willing to let this match, the main event of one of the four BIGGEST shows on her company’s calendar, get wrecked by a couple of two-bit card sharks from Las Vegas. Way to send the paying fans home happy. And it’s a damned shame too, because all I was doing was trying to help.”
[Wendy looks over at Terrence skeptically]
WB: “Help?”
TT: “Yeah, help. I said it first day I entered this company, and I’ve held to it, ever since then. Catholic Panda Wrestling is a fine company, and it has the potential to be at the forefront of professional wrestling companies the world over. But it’s been lacking that ‘it’ factor. That person up top that people could really, truly get behind, and know that they were watching a champion that was legitimately the best in the world. I had planned on being that guy.”
[Terrence shrugs again, pulling a nonchalant air]
TT: “Ah, well, no matter, because it more or less worked out in the end.”
WB: “It did?”
[Terrence nods slowly, then solemnly turns to the camera]
TT: “Belladonna, you beat me. It wasn’t clean, and it sure as hell wasn’t decisive, but you got me in that ring, one, two, three. It wasn’t a fluke, we both had the opportunity there at the end, and you took it a split second before I could. And trust me when I say, if you can beat Terrence Thompson with the title on the line, you’re legit. So congratulations, champ, and for the time being, enjoy your reign, because at the Great Panda Bash, you deserved it.”
WB: “You’re taking this rather well...”
[Terrence grimaces]
TT: “Well, obviously I’m a bit disappointed, and the reasons for me winning that belt weren’t ENTIRELY altruistic, but unfortunately, World Title reign number six has been postponed for a little while. But you can rest assured, Belladonna, that I will be back for that title, and the next time we face, the outcome is going to be very different. But in the meantime, enjoy your win, and bask in the glory of the highest point in your career.”
[Wendy turns back to her husband, an expression of a mixture of exasperation and amusement on her face]
WB: “That might be the most self-effacing admission of defeat ever.”
[Terrence throws up his hands, and looks over at Wendy]
TT: “What do you want from me? I don’t have to swallow my pride very often here, so it’s not like I’ve had practice at it! Let me give credit where credit is due, so we can move on to other matters.”
WB: “Like how you and Belladonna have to make the uneasy transition from nemeses to allies?”
[A nod from Terrence]
TT: “Well, that, and other things. I think it goes without saying that I’m not happy with how the Great Panda Bash turned out, and trust me when I say that the result of my match is the LEAST of what’s gotten me pissed. Suddenly, it’s war on all fronts for us. I mean, we maybe allied with the Cherrybombs this week, but I have no illusions that the moment the opportunity presents itself, Belladonna and Dark are going to be going after our titles. And of course, there’s this Midnight Society, who’ve arrived, or revealed themselves, or whatever. That’s such a big deal they couldn’t even get a match on the fallout show.”
WB: “Which means they’re likely going to be hanging in the back, looking for an opening to make another attack.”
TT: “Probably. Or maybe they’ll just stand around and whine about everything. After all, one of them’s a McIntyre.”
[Big grin there]
TT: “Either way, I hope they’re watching, because despite the fact that we have more pressing issues this week, we haven’t forgotten about them, and their time will come. But for now, it’s time for the Anti-Social Network and the Syn City Syndicate to get their due. Might as well start with the Syndicate...”
[Terrence shifts his position a bit, and looks directly at the camera]
TT: “So, Terry. Ace. You boys still think the WhirlyBirdz and the tag titles are easy pickings?”
[Smirk]
TT: “Now, I know that Marvin managed to squeak out a win over Hayley Dark, and good for him. But his partner, Ace Andrews? Not even close. Wendy kicked his ass from one side of the ring to the other, and back again, until locked Ace in that Banshee of hers, and made him tap like Samuel Morse.”
[Wendy suddenly turns and looks sharply at her husband, an expression of disbelief on her face.]
TT: “What?”
WB: “That’s like, the second nineteenth century reference you’ve thrown out today...”
[Terrence grins at his wife]
TT: “What can I say? I’m feeling a bit retro today. You know, goin’ old school.”
[Despite herself, Wendy smiles softly]
WB: “That’s really old school.”
TT: “So old school, the textbooks are in hieroglyphics!”
WB: “Not THAT old school...”
TT: “Well, I can go old school or new, whatever works. I’m versatile like that But the Syn City Syndicate can’t go ANY school, because they’ve got NO class!”
[Wendy has pretty much the same reaction you just did- FACEPALM]
TT: “Uh oh, there goes Terrence Thompson, making jokes again! Must not be taking this match seriously. Or maybe I’m just letting off a little bit of steam here, because to be honest right now, I’ve got quite a bit of aggression building up, and I ain’t gonna make it until the seventh if I don’t let some out.”
[The smirk on his face is mostly gone now, only a trace remains as he looks back at the camera]
TT: “Terry, Ace, Wendy may have gotten some modicum of payback on you guys when she made Andrews tap out, but your account still has a pretty big balance in it, and you idiots just keep on insisting upon adding to it. You already had a pretty big debt from that attack at the last Zoo, and we haven’t even started on that little stunt you boys played at the Great Panda Bash.”
TT: “It was bad enough that my poor wife had to stand next to you booze-breathed cretins for about twenty minutes as lumberjacks, but then you boys had to get involved, and after you said you weren’t going to, to boot. Then again, you both are supposedly good poker players, so I guess you can take pride in your ‘bluff’.”
TT: “The thing is, every action has a consequence, and you two are in for some serious consequences. I don’t like my matches being interrupted, and you two tainted that contest with your presence. And it goes a lot deeper than that. This was the MAIN-EVENT of a SUPERCARD, kids. A lot of people payed a lot of money to watch the match you two wrecked.. Of course, I wouldn’t expect you two to understand this, given that Belladonna and I were fighting over a title that neither of you have any hope of ever getting near.”
[Terrence arches his eyebrows, and the smirk widens just a bit more]
TT: “The bill just keeps adding up, gentlemen, and on Monday, you can rest assured that collections will begin in full. And I guarantee that this will be a LOT more painful than annoying phone calls during dinner. By the time Wendy and I are done with you, you won’t be able to crawl back to ROP, or APW, or whatever piece-of-crap fed you came from fast enough.”
TT: “And of course, there’s the final pair in this puzzle of irritation, the Anti-Social Network. First of all, cute name. Did you guys come up with it all by yourself?”
[Wendy can’t help but chuckle at Terrence’s mocking tone, and she looks over at her husband]
WB: “Not very accurate either. They seemed pretty ‘outgoing’ at the last show...”
TT: “Yeah, well, it was definitely a big debut for the big guy. I mean, look at all the names Drake managed to take out during that show. Aoraki, Wendy Briese, Hayley Dark, and Belladonna. Impressive, right?”
TT: “Funny enough, there’s one guy left off that list, Drake. You see, I’ve already tangoed with you, and I can already tell that beyond your cute little spikey bat, there isn’t much to you. You beat up your equally overrated brother, you blindsided Wendy and Hayley, and you got Belladonna into a two on one situation. What a tough son of a bitch you are.”
[A bit of sarcasm here]
TT: “But the moment you had to dance with the Mechanical Mayhem, you were doomed. Had it not been for the Teeny-Weeny Pazzini and her serendipitous chairshot, you’d have gone on the Last Lap before the green flag of your CPW career even waved.”
TT: “Little Izzy shoulda hit me harder when she had the chance, Drake, because all she did was postpone the inevitable. She ain’t gonna be around to save your hairy hide Monday, my manager will make sure she keeps her overgrown, beaky nose outta this. The only think keeping you from me exposing you as the biggest fraud this side of a Ponzi Scheme are two Vegas drunkards and Joey Flash. Not good odds, my friend.”
TT: “Speaking of Flash. Congratulations on your triumphant return from the annals of... wherever the fuck you went.”
[Wendy looks over at her husband, surprised he didn’t remember]
WB: “Prison. He was arrested on murder charges.”
[No word whether or not it was Chuckawalla Valley. Which is the coolest name for a prison EVER]
TT: “Murder? Wow. I thought if people killed themselves so that they’d never have to see him on the television again, it’d still count as suicide.”
[Wendy shoots her husband a glare that very clearly says ‘that’s not funny’]
TT: “Anyways, Joey. Good job. Because Belladonna might have ‘missed’, but you didn’t. In fact, you scored a huge, perfect bullseye with your return last week. Unfortunately, that’s not as good a thing as you might think.”
TT: “You see, Joey, when you aimed at Belladonna, you chose the wrong weapon. You didn’t make a quick, tactical strike. You didn’t just snipe Belladonna, and end your war there. No, you dropped a bomb. A huge fucking Daisy Cutter, right in the middle of the ring, without any regard for collateral damage. And that, Mr. Flash, is the mistake that will prove to be your undoing.”
[Terrence’s smile’s gone for the most part now, and Wendy, although she remains silent, looks at the camera furiously]
TT: “Joey, I don’t like being collateral damage. And I sure as hell don’t like my wife being collateral damage. And so, whether you wanted to or not, you’ve added two more names to your ever-growing list of enemies. And unlike the rest of the people you’ve screwed over, Wendy and I don’t have to wait very long at all to get revenge.”
TT: “I’d like to think of myself as an easy-going guy. I like the simple things in life- a loving family under my roof, great food on my table, and a kickass stock-car race playing out on my television. I train hard for my matches, and I wrestle to win, but I’m a guy who likes to have some fun, and maybe chafe a few nerves from humorless bastards in the process.”
[Terrence shakes his head, a his face now a mixture of disgust and anger]
TT: “But there’s a line for everything, and I’m not going to stand for the bullshit that happened at the Bash. I’m not going to stand for THREE seperate tag teams coming in, and trying to play Whak-a-Bird on either Wendy or me. I won’t stand for any member of my family, including myself, being sent to the hospital for something that occurred outside a match. And I sure as hell am not going to stand for a good woman like Belladonna getting torn up like she did there. I don’t give a DAMN if she’s the fucking champion, there’s some things you just don’t do to a woman, especially when she’s tired from wrestling a match like the one we had.”
[Chivalry, yo]
TT: “The billing on the marquee may say ‘eight-man tag match’, but we all know that’s bullshit. There ain’t eight-men in this match- one corner has one man, and three women. The other corner offers little more than four overgrown cockroaches who have somehow managed to sneak into the Zoo Arena. Between them and the Midnight Society, CPW is suffering from one hell of an infestation.”
[One final smirk from Terrence, and he leans forward in his seat, intensity in his movement]
TT: “I guess it’s up to me to play exterminator.”
[Fade]
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