Well, it’s been a while since we’ve had a scene inside the WhirlyBirdz RV, but that’s what we’re getting this morning as the scene opens. It seems to be a fairly tranquil moment inside the half-million dollar Newmar King Aire, as we are in the vehicle’s “living room”, with Terrence Wendy and Theresa all on the couch, having a nice afternoon nap. It’s a fairly sweet scene, with the five year old curled up on her side, using her mother’s lap as a pillow, while Wendy’s own head leans into Terrence’s shoulder. Terrence’s head is cocked back, mouth open, snoring softly.
And Daniel Pollaski walks in, the expression on his face indicating that this tranquil scene is pretty much over. Also, there’s an airhorn in his hand.
*BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA*
Wendy: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Terrence: “WHAAAAAAAAAAAA-?’
Theresa: … *THUD*
The effect is immediate. Terrence jolts awake, shaking his head, trying to comprehend what’s happening. Wendy’s far more reactionary, as she leaps to her feet, ready to defend her family against the evil honking noise of death. Unfortunately, she’s forgotten about her ddaughter in her lap, and Theresa (who apparently was still sleeping after the first blast) rolls off the couch, straight to the floor. This wakes her up, and she blinks sleepily, not sure whether she should be annoyed with her mother or the guy with the airhorn.
Terrence: “Dude... what-”
*BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-*
The second blast comes to an abrupt halt as Wendy charges her manager, rips the horn from his hand, and flings it across the RV, a loud clunking sound suggesting the evil device hit the dashboard up front. Pollaski grins as Wendy rages at him.
Wendy: “Are you out of your m-”
Pollaski: “Never fear, my loyal friends. It’s all over, and it’s okay to resume your conscioius life. Payton St. Pierre’s promo is finally, mercifully, over.”
Pollaski says this all with the aura of a superhero who’s just defeated the big villian.
Pollaski: “You are all recovering from the effects of Payton’s new mind-control ray, where she stands in front of the camera and blithers on forever in an attempt to turn you all, my legion of loyal fans, into blithering mindless zombies.”
It’s pretty clear who Wendy would love to make into a zombie at this point.
Wendy: “We were having a nice, family nap, Daniel. We didn’t fall asleep watching Payton’s promo!”
Terrence: “I did. Earlier.”
Wendy looks back at her husband, a clear ‘you’re not helping!’ expression on her face. Terrence shrugs.
Terrence: “What? This heat makes me tired. And plus, the girl’s about as wooden as a covered bridge.
Its a good thing Wendy’s eyes can’t really fire lasers, because Terrence Thompson would be a pile of ashes right now.
Pollaski: “Well let’s take a look here. Payton’s awesome exposition was... Pollaski hurt my boyfriend, he’s overrated, he’s fat, no one likes him, he’s fat, he’s fat, he’s fat, he’s a bad wrestler, he’s fat, he’s fat. Ooh, huge breaking news no one gets to see. The end.”
Terrence: “I think I got to the third part about you being fat!”
Terrence says this proudly, as if it’s right up there with his five world championships in terms of accomplishments. Even Wendy looks as if she can’t exactly argue with that.
Pollaski: “I suppose we can’t blame Payton too much for being ornery. After all, she’s had a career for what now, a year and a half? And this fat guy she doesn’t think have any talent, being yours truly, has more Pay-Per-View wins than she does. And more Pay-Per-View main events, come to think of it.”
He grins.
Pollaski: “Eighteen months of mediocrity. That’s the only way anyone can describe Payton St. Pierre’s career. She’s had two bright moments, and both were flukes. She beat Sophie Richards by Hadoken-ing her in the face, and afterwards, Sophie not only beat her in the rematch, but went on to become the greatest TV Champion in FFW history, while Payton washed out. And she beat Nikkii because her manager distracted her, and not only did Nikkii beat her in the rematch, she’s going on to main event Climax, while Flaherty is still debating whether or not to put Payton on a show people are going to have to pay to see.”
A small shrug.
Pollaski: “And maybe I haven’t exactly been setting the ring on fire, but at least I’m entertaining, both in and out of it. At least the fans react to me with something different than ‘please go away and stop wasting our time’. At least my mental thought is capable of expunging more than the same tired thoughts over and over again, most which have no basis in logic whatsoever.”
For the record, Wendy’s looking really annoyed, although probably it’s more because Pollaski woke her up for this than the actual words he is saying.
Pollaski: “In a way, Payton kind of reminds me of the girl I’m getting to squash at Climax, Robbyn Helmsley. Both were born with silver spoons in their mouth, and both somehow managed to spend their entire lives without gaining any sense of persepective. Both have no clue over the concept of consequences for their actions, yet they screech and howl over the slightest ‘insult’ directed at them. And both have hid themsleves behind imaginary titles that they cling to like a safety blanket. For Robbyn, she’s ‘Supergirl’. For Payton, she’s got it in her mind that she’s some evil little princess.”
Theresa: “Those don’t really exist.”
All three adults turn and look at the nearly-six year old, who’s remained seated on the floor ever since she fell off the couch. But now she stands up, looking somewhat defiant.
Theresa: “There’s no such thing as an evil princess. Princesses are pretty, and kind, and brave, and always willing to help someone out!”
Terrence and Wendy exchange bemused glances, and Pollaski hides a smile. Evidently, Theresa’s been watching a few too many Disney movies.
Pollaski: “Theresa, if there’s no such thing as an evil princess, where do all the wicked queens come from?”
Theresa’s mouth clamps shut, and it’s clear she’s thinking it over. She’s not the only one.
Terrence: “Dude, you just totally blew my mind.”
Wendy shoots her husband an ‘are you serious?’ glare. She’s stunned to find out the answer is ‘yes.’
Pollaski: “Don’t worry, Theresa. Payton St. Pierre isn’t really a princess. She’s from Illinois, for crying out loud. She’s just a spoiled little rich girl who’s never learned any common sense. And tonight, once she’s experienced the full brunt of the Northwestern Nightmare, one would hope that maybe she’ll leave Omaha with a bit of a clue. But I doubt that, and we’ll just get another wave of excuses from her.”
Pollsaki mimes as if he’s checking the time on his watch, although his wrist is bare.
Pollaski: “Either way, time is running out, and the clock is ticking. And for all her talk, I know Payton’s staring nervously at that clock, knowing she’s about to get into the ring with someone three times her size who’s sick of listening to her. But time won’t stop for her, nor will it stop for anyone else. Just keeps on ticking... and soon, it’ll be three... two... one...”
*BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!*
Yes he had a second airhorn, forcing the Birdz and Theresa to cover their ears.
Wendy: “WHY?!”
Pollaski grins, and the scene fades.
No comments:
Post a Comment