Sunday May 26, 2012
The Summit
Pike’s Peak Recreational Area
8:41 AM Local Time
The summit of Pike’s Peak is located about 70 miles south of Denver, 10 miles west of Colorado Springs. It’s a dry, dusty place, hovering in the rain shadow of the Rocky Mountains despite it’s elevation. It’s a rather nice day atop the easternmost “fourteener” in the United States as our scene fades up, Wendy Briese standing atop the northern side of the relatively flat summit. Behind her is a rather large dropoff, giving a beautiful panorama to the lands below, where the rocky mountains abate to the dry Eastern Colorado highlands that eventually lead to the prairies of Kansas. She’s wearing a black windbreaker over a pair of blue jeans, her flame colored hair flowing freely in the breeze.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
She grins, her voice just slightly raised due to being outdoors in the wind.
“Considering tonight is going to be such a huge night, I thought it’d be nice to start the day up here, atop Pike’s Peak. After all, it’s always good to find a nice, calming place before such a big match, and, honestly, why would anyone come to Colorado and not take a morning or two to enjoy the scenery?”
She steps aside, pointing out to the north.
“You can see pretty far from here. Colorado Springs is over there, down below. But out there, you can just barely see it as that sliver of reflecting light, but that’s Denver, I’ll be there in just a few short hours. And even further north.. I doubt you can see it, but Boulder’s up there.”
“You’re familiar with that place, aren’t you, Starla? You should be, after all, you went to school there, at the University of Colorado, where you earned your doctorate in record setting fashion. I’m sure they’re proud of you, looking at you now.”
A small shrug.
“Now, I know this was before your time, but how familliar are you with the 1990 Colorado Buffaloes? They were one best football teams your alma mater ever fielded. But they’re remembered most for their sixth game of the year, their Big Eight conference opener against the Missouri Tigers.”
“Colorado entered that game ranked twelfth, Missouri was unranked. And yet, Missouri gave the Buffalos everything they could handle, and then some. So with time running out, and Missouri leading 31-27, Colorado was driving for one, last final score. And with time running out, they marched it to the goal line. And there Missouri held them, for what would have been the biggest upset in school history.”
“Yet somehow, in the midst of all that chaos, a mistake was made, and somewhere they forgot to count a play. So when Colorado spiked the ball to stop the clock on fourth down, everyone though it was third down. Colorado scored on the next play, the final play of the game... on fifth down. Won 33-31. I’m sure everyone can understand the controversy that arose from such a game, especially as Colorado would go on to win the National Championship in it’s wake.”
Considering Wendy knows this story, three guesses who Colorado beat to win the National Championship.
“Except Bill McCarthy, the Colorado coach, wouldn’t hear any of it. He lambasted Missouri- HIS alma mater, mind you- for complaining, taking specific umbrage with the condition of the field. He was completely unapologetic, and refused to admit there was any controversy surrounding the game. And he remained defiant for YEARS, destroying any relationship he had with the school where he got his start.”
Wendy chuckles.
“Apparently psychiatry wasn’t the only thing you learned at CU, Starla. Because this is all seeming a little bit familiar right now. A contest ends in controversy, and the victor is unapologetic to the point of insufferability, even when all evidence points to them being in the wrong. But at least with the Buffaloes, it was an honest mistake, and not a desperate ploy by the husband to steal a win.”
“But there you made your own mistake, Starla. Because I don’t think it ever ocurred to you that maybe so much of this controversy would have been muted if you and Alex had just demonstrated a little bit of patience.”
Wendy pauses, then takes a deep breath, as if reluctant to say what she’s going to say.
“The fact is, Starla... you had that Sweet Sedation on tight. And I can’t stand here and honestly tell you that it was a guarantee I would have broken out of it. I’m NOT saying I’d have succumbed to it- I had quite a bit of fight left in me. But when you denied me my chance to break out, you also denied yourself that decisive, definitive moment. Because like so many people who use the rules to only suit themselves, you subscribed to age old adage- when in doubt, make it ambiguous as possible.”
“And that’s exactly what you did. Claimed I verbally submitted, even though I didn’t. I haven’t tapped out in a decade, Starla, and you blew your chance at LEGITIMATELY making that happen because you didn’t like what was going to happen had you failed. Because you knew darn well what awaited you if I had broken out.”
“Shows how much confidence you really have in yourself, doesn’t it?”
Wendy laughs, although it’s obviously she’s hardly happy about the subject she’s talking about.
“It doesn’t really matter though. Tapping out or not, this rematch would still happen. And now your husband is off the board, all your stunt served was to give yourself a two month reign with that belt, and make me even more annoyed over losing it than I already would have been.”
“Because the fact is, I messed up too that night. But at least mine taught me a lesson I can learn from going into this match. Because I made the mistake of thinking that you think the same way I do. That any sane person would do. Then again maybe it’s just you thinking on a higher level. After all YOU have the doctorate, and I have an associates from IUPUI.
A small self-defacing smile.
“When I had you in that hold, and you were... *ahem* ‘Rallying your fans’. I was aghast. There you were, screaming in pain, pounding the mat, begging for me to stop hurting you, and your husband, ignored it. What kind of man, what kind of HUSBAND, would see his wife screaming in agony, begging for mercy, and casually turn and check a turnbuckle pad?”
“The kind of husband wanted me to do exactly what I did. Break the hold, and confront him, giving you time to recover.”
“I should have kept you in that Banshee. I should have listened as your joints popped out of their sockets, as your tendons broke and snapped up like a broken window shade, as your muscles tore away from your bones. And if your husband was content to just stand there, while his own wife had her career, her own body torn apart before his eyes, well, on his own head be it.”
Wendy’s eyes narrow, and her voice gets quieter.
“My biggest mistake was showing you compassion when none was warranted. That is a mistake that will not be duplicated. I don’t care how many times you tap, scream, beg, plea, whatever. I’ll release that hold when the bell rings and the referee tells me to stop, and not a second sooner.”
“My error’s led to a frustrating couple of months, that’s for sure. Yet again, I have been saddled with that ‘choke artist’ mantra. Someone who can’t win the big match, when everything is on the line. Someone who hides behind her virtue as a cover for her failures. I mean, when Jo McFarlane of all people starts wondering when you’re going to live up to your potential...”
Wendy bursts out laughing, then takes a deep breath.
“And that’s why I punched you at Velocity, Starla. I’d LOVE to pretend that it was this big comeuppance, a revenge play. That it was finally you getting what you deserved. But it wasn’t. That was never going to happen until a night like tonight, when I could beat you in the ring, take your title, and defeat you once and for all. What happened at Velocity was simply a moment borne of anger and frustration. I was originally just going to come out and tell you to shut up, to set the record straight. But at some point, I realized it wouldn’t do a darn bit of good. So I drove my right fist into your jaw.”
“I wish I could say I regret it. But I don’t. Probably because for everything I’ve said over the past few months about you, that was probably the one thing you actually understood. Actions do speak louder than words, after all.”
“Oh yes, add it to the ever-growing list of moments that indicate I’m a hypocrite. ` That the White Knight isn’t who she claims she is.”
Another laugh, although this one has a hint of bitterness tinged to it.
“It’s a shame that I have to keep repeating it. But people apparently only listen to me when it suits them. I’ve never claimed to be perfect, and I know I’m far from it. I’m emotional, I’m hot headed. Sometimes I’m a little quick to jump to conclusions. And God knows I certainly can be a little gullible now and then.”
“I never came up with the White Knight, and I forget who here did, but I’m pretty sure it was originally meant sarcastically. But yeah, it’s a fun little label, and it’s great to stick on T-shirts and bumper stickers, and sell as merchandise, and I hope that the fans recognize the saying for what it is- a great marketing idea someone came up with. But I hate that it somehow paints me as this two-dimensional person. Where the only line on my internal programming is ‘What would a goody goody twoshoes do?’”
“I know about shades of gray, guys. More than you’d think. I’m not completely good. I’ve done some things in my life that I’m not proud of, and I’m proud of somethings I perhaps shouldn’t be. And I know that no one’s completely bad. Heck, even Samantha Star, who I certainly have no love for, has been very active with charity work, including the implementation of the awesome Byte This shows. She has her virtues just as much as I have my flaws.”
“And that’s why it’s so hilarious that my critics are so eager to view ME in black and white. You’re one of the worst in that regard, Starla... but somehow you’ve managed to spectacularily reverse the colors. I’d love to think you’re doing it for the sake of being ironic. But in reality, it just makes a great soundbite. After all, so many people are quick to play that card. You certainly have. Jo has. Stephanie Sullivan has. I suppose I should just let it stop bothering me and get used to it.”
“Because I’m hardly the only one who gets viewed in that prism. Namely, one other woman seems to be caught up in the same trap, and she’s had about as much luck breaking out of it as I have. You know who I’m talking about, don’t you, Starla? Just like us, she’s got red hair. Just like you, she’s from the south. Unlike you, I admire her greatly.”
Wendy breaks out into a smile.
“Scarlett Kincaid”
“I read Pollaski’s preview article just like everyone else, Starla. And I certainly read your piece, previewing the Kincaid versus Foxworth cage match. And I couldn’t help but find it, well.. funny actually. Because you’re so quick to condemn Scarlett’s title win, and for what reasons? Because a high-ranking executive in our company inserted a referee who favored her over her opponent? Because the match went sour due to foul play, and ended in controversy centered around that exact same official?”
“Golly, gee... that doesn’t sound familiar at all, does it?”
Wendy mock-gasps.
“It’s absolutely hilarious that Scarlett’s victory a year ago was such a travesty of justice in your eyes, considering your own circumstances. You want to talk about hypocrisy? Of course, there are SOME differences. After all, Scarlett never asked for Anastacia to be added to that match, and after seeing what that woman’s like in SVW, I can’t blame her. And Scarlett at least had the decency to recognize the controversy she had been engulfed in. Too much so, I think. Remember, she climbed that cell in the Elimination Chamber to prove a point- that’s how affected she was by the whispers. It’s certainly a lot more honest than the defiant mantra you've taken to chanting, as if you say it enough sooner or later it'll just magically come true.”
“But you’re jealous of Scarlett, aren’t you? You conspired against her in that first Evolution Championship match, set her up as a patsy for your own sick whims. And yet, you’ve been forced to watch as she’s overcome EVERYTHING. That made you sick to watch, didn’t it? The knowledge that there’s some people that are just going to keep getting up, no matter how many times they’re stomped on? You can knock her all you want for losing in that Elimination Chamber, and to Stacey, but even you have to give her this. At least she got there.”
“But even more than you being jealous, I think you’re afraid. It took every last bit of treachery you had to ‘beat’ me the first time, and now you have to do it all over again, in far more neutral circumstances. For two month’s, I’ve been waiting for tonight, Starla. For the chance to take back what is rightfully mine. You knew that I’d be coming back, wiser, and a lot more angry. Sometimes, I wonder if you begged Ms. Star to make ANOTHER title in the hopes that I would go after it instead. After all, it worked the first time, didn’t it?”
Wendy laughs, and brushes a loose strand of hair out of her face.
“Don’t be ashamed, Starla. Fear is a natural thing. Heck, a little part of me is afraid for tonight too. This is a match I can’t afford to lose, and I tremble to think of the consequences for doing so. Not after I’ve spent two month’s gnashing my teeth in anticipation for it. Not after kicking myself time and time again for falling for your trap the last time. I’m a better wrestler than you, and I’m a better submissionist. That’s something I know is true. But... sometimes... things happen.”
Wendy sighs, and looks up at the sky, taking a deep breath berfore continuing.
“Well, ask not for small challenges, right?”
She takes a few steps, gesturing for the camera to rotate with her, showing the parking lot and visitor’s center.
“Pike’s Peak is 14,115 feet high. That’s almost as high as mountains such as Mount Ranier, Mount Shasta, and the Matterhorn. And yet, to climb one of those mountains, it’s an accomplishment. Something to truly be proud of. To get up here isn’t. And it’s obvious why.”
“The view sure is nice, but there’s no challenge in getting to the top of Pike’s Peak. Heck, there’s a paved road, anyone can do it. I’ve been climbing Pike’s Peak my entire career. Getting lots of shiny belts, that were supposedly accomplishments, but the challenge to obtain them... and to hold them... just wasn’t there.”
“That’s why I’m so glad I came to FFW. The mountains are tougher to climb, more of an accomplishment to summit. But those hard peaks can get a little nasty at times. You can be as good as a climber as you want, but when a freak blizzard sets in, or the serrac hanging over your head decides to give way... it doesn’t matter how good you are. Things happen.”
“Luckily, the allusion ends there. Failure in a wrestling ring seldom leads to fatality, which Is a good thing for me! But it also means that I’m not moving back down this mountain, no matter how treacherous it might get. Whatever storm comes, I will weather it. Whatever falls on my head, I’m going to push through, and keep climbing.”
Wendy smiles, as she takes a step forward to the camera.
“So go ahead, Starla. Feed me another wall of words. Say all the mean and nasty things you want. Give us whatever warped perspective you think of that says that I’m a phony, or whatever other fun words you can come up with. It’s something you’re good at, and I’m sure you’re really really proud of. Cause then at least you’re better than most of us at SOMETHING.”
“But you understand as much as I do- we’re both out of excuses here. There’s no Samantha or Adonis to help you this time, and all I’ve gotten from Cody is an assurance that this match will be fair. So that’s it. You and me, make the other one tap to win. And I’ve already done it once, so I know what it’ll take. The only thing you know is that it’ll take a hell of a lot more than you gave me the first time around.”
“You haven’t competed since Chaos Theory, Starla. I hope you used that time wisely, and rested up. Trained real hard. Prepared for everything. Because I warned you things weren’t going to come cheap. I warned you they weren’t going to come easy. There’s no road to the top this time, so you better start climbing. Because I’m coming, and when I finally catch you.”
Wendy looks over her shoulder, out at the valley one last time, then turns back to the camera.
“It’s going to be a long way down”
Wendy turns and walks away, and the scene fades.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
EPISODE 178: And Thus the Wind Calms (w/ CONVICTION: The Musical!)
Thursday November 28, 2002
Methodist Hospital- Room 419
Indianapolis, Indiana
8:45 AM Local Time
“Ungh,” Wendy Briese groaned as her eyelids fluttered open, and she looked around the hospital room. Another night of sleeping in the chair hadn’t done her back any favor, and she stood up, stretching, trying to drive the aches out. Vaguely, some part of her realized it was Thanksgiving morning, but under the circumstances, she hardly cared.
She looked a wreck, and she knew it. She hadn’t showered in days, her clothes were rumpled and disheveled, her flame-colored hair embarassingly unkempt. But she didn’t care. She was here, and as long as her mother lay in that bed, she would continue to be.
She thought back to Sunday night, when she had arrived back in her locker room. She had changed out of her ring gear, and cleaned herself up, before rejoining Terrence in his own dressing room. There, the two had been content to lazily watch the rest of the pay-per-view play out. But maybe ten minutes after settling down, Wendy’s phone had rang, her mother’s number. Reluctantly, she answered.
And had been shocked to find her father on the phone instead.
There had been an accident, he said. They had been driving home from a party, when his car had mechanical problems. They had argued, and Gayle, drunk nearly to the point of incapacitation, tried to storm off. But she couldn’t keep her balance, or a straight line, and she had walked right into the path of an oncoming semi-truck. She wasn’t expected to make it through the night.
Terrence had driven her to the airport, where she had caught the first flight she could get on out. Eight hours of travelling later, including a nerve racking layover in Chicago, and she had arrived early Monday morning in a taxi cab direct from the airport.
And discovered her mother in this horrible, horrible condition.
It was a miracle, the doctor’s said, that she had survived this long. The right side of her body had been more or less caved in, nearly every bone broken. The internal bleeding could only be described as massive. But yet, she lived. For now.
Deep down, Wendy knew it was hardly a miracle. There was no salvation to be had in this lingering, this horrible limbo where pain and agony sat, inches away from the sweet painless release of death. And even if her mother would overcome the odds, she’d be in pain for the rest of her life, horribly bent and broken, unlikely to move ever again. But maybe, just maybe, that one in a million chance... would be her. It was all she had at this moment.
And so Wendy kept her bedside vigil. It was easy enough now, when the blankets covered her, and all she could see was Gayle’s face, largely undamaged, save for a couple scrapes and bruises from when she had fallen on the asphalt after being struck. The hard part was when the nurses came in twice a day to clean the wounds and refresh the bandages. Wendy had yet to fully last a cleaning, being able to handle only so much before fleeing the room, hovering outside until the grisly necessities were complete.
She hated herself as a coward for it, even though she kept telling herself that it was better she left to let the nurses work in peace, then staying there, and risk becoming hysterical.
She glanced at the clock. Perhaps a half hour until the next cleaning. Maybe she should get some breakfast then, even though she hardly felt hungry. She hadn’t eaten in a couple of days now. It would take just a few minutes to run down, and grab a bagel, or a croissant, or something.
She glanced at her cellphone, annoyed that no new calls had come in. Her father had left in the early afternoon yesterday, telling her that he had preparations to make. She couldn’t blame him, legal matters were one of many unpleasantries that came with the pending death of a loved one. And arrangements had to be made for the transport of the body to New York, where she would be buried in a small northern villiage that the Briese family used to vacation in in the summer.
But she was annoyed that he hadn’t called to check up on her. Surely he wasn’t so busy that a simple phone call requesting an update was out of line, right? Wendy had thought that at least maybe this tragedy would have enabled the past hurts to be forgotten, and draw the family back closer. But that was turning out to be as fruitless a hope as Gayle even recovering in the first place.
Terrence had called more often, every few hours for an update as he and Pollaski drove the RV back from Vegas. He’d be arriving later today, probably around noon, he had said. At least then she’d have someone to be with during all this. The worst part about the vigil was the loneliness you felt.
She looked back at Gayle, opening her mouth to say something. She had tried talking to her all the previous day, in some atttempt to get through to the unconscious woman, and to past the time. She told her stories about her experiences on the road. She recanted memories from her childhood. She recited every Irish fairy tale she could remember. She sang the Broadway songs she had learned, her soprano voice occasionally cracking with emotion,
But most of all, she told her mother how sorry she was for her outburst, and for turning her back on her when it was the worst possible thing she could do. And that she had to get better, so they could make things better.
Today though, Wendy had nothing to say, and she shut her mouth with a deflated sigh. Instead, she leaned forward, and planted a soft kiss on Gayle’s forehead, then stood up. She was going to duck down and get that breakfast after all.
Wendy turned to leave, but a movement out of the corner of her eye stopped her. She turned back, her jaw dropping as she saw her mother’s left hand being raised. It wasn’t much, and it was certainly a feeble gesture, but it was more than she had seen before. The shock only deepened as Gayle’s mouth emitted a noise. It wasn’t intelligible, more a groan than anything, but again, it was more than she’d been doing.
“Mom?” Wendy breathed as she rushed back to the bedside, hope rising in her bosom for the first time in nearly forty-eight hours. “Mother? Can you hear me?”
She gently clapsed Gayle’s hand in her’s, patting the top of it as she looked down at her face, a hopeful smile flashing through. Gayle’s hand trembled slightly, and Wendy squeezed gently.
It took several seconds to realize the trembling was growing more and more intense, and Wendy yelped as Gayle’s whole body shuddered, a bit of foam forming around the woman’s mouth.
She wasn’t recovering, Wendy realized. She was convulsing.
“Oh my God” Wendy whimpered, staring at her mother in disbelief, before the panic finally set in. Looking around wildly, she remembered the door to the room, and sprinted towards it.
“HELP!” she screamed, hysteria in her voice. “SOMEONE HELP!”
The nurse at the desk reacted first, running over towards her, brushing by Wendy to look in the room. She spun, and ordered another nurse to “get Dr. Gilmour.” The second nurse ran off, even as two more entered.
“What’s going on?” Wendy demanded, as the three nurses began working frantically on the trembling woman. “What’s happening!”
“Get her out of here!” One nurse snarled, and the third nurse, a larger man, got up, gently grabbing Wendy and guiding her to the door.
“NO!” Wendy protested, trying to crane her vision around the orderly. “What’s going on?”
“Calm down and be quiet if you want to stay,” the big nurse ordered her, firmly but not unkindly.
By now, the doctor had entered, and joined in the efforts on her. The big nurse had stopped trying to remove her, but still kept her pinned on the other side of the room, and Wendy watched as the medical staff quickly went to work, medical jargon flying back and forth between them as they calmly did their jobs.
Their calm only aggrivated Wendy more, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. Why weren’t they fixing this? Why weren’t they making her mother better?
Suddenly, Gayle went still, and a long steady beeping filled the room. As one, the doctor and nurses stopped working, their shoulders slumping in resigned defeat. Several seconds went by, before one of the nurses flipped off the EKG monitor, the beeping coming to a stop. The room was silent, heavy with a sense of finality.
“N...no... no..” Wendy protested, looking at the doctor.
“She’s gone,” the doctor finally said softly, looking over at her. “I’m sorry.”
“Revive her! Use those electric paddle things!” Wendy demanded.
“The defibrillator won’t make a difference,” the doctor replied, remaining calm an professional. Obviously this wasn’t the first hysterical family member he’d dealt with in his career. He walked up to Wendy, putting his arm on her shoulder. “She’s at peace now. She’s not hurting anymore.”
Wendy took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, as the doctor turned towards the nurses, giving them various orders on various procedural necessities upon the death of a patient. One by one the nurses left the room, leaving her and the doctor.
“Can.. can I stay with her?” Wendy asked, her voice trembling.
The doctor nodded. “It’ll be a few minutes before the mo.. someone comes up. I’m sorry for your loss.”
It sounded heartfelt, but at the same time, Wendy had a feeling it was something he was used enough to saying by now. Solemnly, the doctor left the room.
Leaving Wendy alone with her mother.
Wendy approached the bed slowly, looking down at Gayle’s body. The doctor was right, she looked far more peaceful than she had been before. Her face was relaxed, and in death, even the faintest hint of a smile had formed on her features. Wendy leaned forward again, trembling, and planted another soft kiss on her forehead. She whimpered again, knowing that it was truly and utterly a goodbye kiss.
A glint of gold caught her eye, and she looked down at her mom’s neck. A shiny golden cross sat there- the rosary necklace Gayle had given her on her first day of school- and the one she had torn off in anger the last time she had seen her. Gingerly, reverently, she reached down, grabbing the necklace, an yanking softly, the clasp undoing, the rosary coming free.
Wendy looked down at the cross, cradling the chain in her hand. She knew her mom would have wanted her to have it back. How much it hurt her that Wendy had discarded it in the first place.
“I’m sorry, Mommy.” Wendy said, and that was all she could get out before everything in her broke down, and she collapsed back in her chair, as every last shred of control she had melted away into a flood of tears and sobbing.
====================
Thursday November 28, 2002
Downtown Mariott Hotel- Room 1451
Indianapolis, Indiana
9:35 AM Local Time
It was times like these that Augustus Briese was glad he was such a damn good actor.
He sat on the bed, cellphone up to his ear, listening to his so-called daughter’s hysterical sobbing from the other line. He couldn’t quite decipher the girl through her warbled wailing, but he could guess well enough. Gayle had passed on this morning.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Gus said into the phone, for perhaps the seventeenth time of the call. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and just simply hang up. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I’m just finishing up here. I’ll see you soon. Goodbye.”
“Finishing up?” Asked a female voice in a Ukranian accent as he hung up the phone. “I thought we were just getting started.”
“Sorry,” sighed Gus, glancing at the naked form of the woman lying on the bed next to him. “That was Wendy. Gayle died this morning.”
“Mmm. Took her long enough,” Ivana purred, turning towards him like a stretching cat. “Shame she suffered for so long.”
“Have a care, woman.” Gus snapped. “She was my wife for twenty three years, dammit. Even if I did do what had to be done, it doesn’t mean I liked it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mister Briese,” Ivana said in mock-surprise. “I didn’t know you were in grieving.” She moved closer, pressing her body to his, whispering seductively in his ear. “I know all kinds of ways to cure grief.”
Gus arched an eyebrow as he stared at his mistress (was she his mistress anymore?). “Tempting,” he said, turning to face her, and the two pressed their bodies together. “I suppose Wendy can wait a bit as I... mourn in my own special way.”
Ivana giggled lustily, as the two began to passionately kiss, Gus rolling them over so he was on top. For just a second, she broke their liplock. “So when does Yuri get to meet Wendy? It’s a shame his introduction to Gayle was so... quick.”
“Hm.. he did well.” Gus replied. Yuri had played his part perfectly, waiting in the woods by milepost 120 until Gayle had exited the car, shoved her in front of that truck, then disappeared back into the forest before anyone saw him. It was perfect- Gayle never saw it coming, and no one would suspect a third person involved- meaning his version of Gayle drunkenly stumbling into traffic would be accepted without question. “But really, must we talk about the children while fucking?”
“Sorry,” Ivana giggled as she wrapped both legs around him, and pressed her lips back to his.
Gus returned it, closing his eyes. The hospital could wait another hour, or two.
Or maybe even three.
=========================
Wednesday May 23, 2012
Marion County Community Theater- Auditorium
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:19 PM Local time
Black screen. At least until words appear on the screen in bright red lettering, one line appearing and fading before the next appears.
CARTWHEEL GALAXY PRODUCTIONS PRESENT
A DANIEL POLLASKI PRODUCTION
IN ASSOCIATION WITH THE MARION COUNTY COMMUNITY THEATER.
WRITTEN BY DANIEL POLLASKI
CONVICTION! THE MUSICAL
Fade up.
As the picture comes in, we’re in a rather decently sized auditorium, looking at the stage, where upon it a small wrestling ring has been placed, where two girls in leotards are busy staggering around in a collar and elbow, both girls grunting. Not too far away, standing in the center of the stage, glancing over her shoulder at the women grappling is Wendy Briese. Smiling, she turns to the camera, sticking her thumb over her shoulder to point at them.
Wendy: “Rookies. Training for their big break. Sounds crazy, no? But here, in our little company of Femme Fatale Wrestling, you might say everyone of us is like those rookies. Trying to perfect our craft. To get noticed, before we get hurt. It’s not easy. You might ask... why do we do it, if it’s so dangerous?”
Wendy shrugs, turning to walk towards the ring.
Wendy: “Well, we do it because we love it. And FFW is our home. So what is this ‘big thing’ we’re training so hard, and trying to get ready for? That, I can tell you in one word!”
Wendy grins, and flings her arms out wide.
Wendy: “CONVICTION!”
As the orchestral opening to “Tradition” from Fiddler on the Roof begins, the stage suddenly comes alive as several dozen women walk onstage, each dressed up like a different FFW wrestler, and Wendy blends into the crowd. Some are actually pretty dead on impersonations, while other’s are a bit looser. None are really that offensive, although the girl playing Ignis is about eighty pounds too heavy. For the record “choir” pretty much means everyone on stage.
Choir: #CONVICTIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON! CONVICTION!#
#CONVICTION!#
#CONVICTIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON! CONVICTION!#
#CONVICTION!*#
Suddenly, the music changes to “One Night In Bangkok” from the musical Chess. The women all dance, forming a perfect circle around the ring, and as the orchestral opening ends, Daniel Pollaski (the real one) suddenly appears in the ring, dressed in a glittering tuxedo, as he half sings/half-speaks the lyrics.
Pollaski: #Denver the Mile High City
The city knows what’s coming and it’s whipped in a frenzy
The creme de la creme of the wrestling world
In a show with everything but Stacey Mackenzie.#
Horns blare, as the girls all pirouette as one.
Pollaski: #Time flies, doesn’t seem a minute
Since the FFW title had Scarlett’s waist in it.
How strange, but don’t you know that when you
Compete at this level you get a pretty damn good venue.#
The actress playing Scarlett’s bowed her head sadly, as the rest continue to dance.
Pollaski: #You’re in Seattle, or New Orleans, or Indianapolis, or... or this place!#
Pollaski spreads his arms wide as a silhouette of the Denver skyline appears behind him. As it does, the actress playing Tara Thunder goes to the center, doing a series of gymnastic flips that the real Tara Thunder probably wouldn’t be able to do. The women all sing the choral part.
Choir: #One night in Denver and the tough girls tumble.
Not much between defeat and victory
You’ll see the greatness that is Tara Thunder
Unless she’s swept out by a Tsunami
I can see our owner watching this one closely#
On cue, the actress playing Eileen Amaro runs up, and kicks Tara in the butt, sending her sprawling. Tara gets up, and the two women begin stage fighting, neither getting an advantage. Pollaski goes back to half-singing.
Pollaski: #Denver’s gonna be the witness
To the Ultimate test of Physical Fitness
This grips me anyore than any ski resort
Or abandoned Indian Fort
But thank God I’m only watching the matches, screaming suggestions.#
Pollaski shrugs, and leans against the ring ropes.
Pollaski: #I don’t see you guys beating
The kind of ladies you’ll see competing.
I’d let you try, I would invite you
But the Queen we have will kinda frighten you#
“Jennifer Stryfe:” BOO!
As she jumps out, all the girls gasp, and move as far away from her as possible, the music stopping as she does- save for the girl playing Kaitlynn Stryfe who just glares at her.
Pollaski: Easy girls, save that for later in the show.
Music back on
Pollaski: #So you better go back to your jello pits, and mud pools. Your baby oil.#
Choir: #One night in Denver and the landscape changes
You couldn’t show this much on free TV
You might just see a brand new TV Champion
But either way someone will make history
And give Traci Loveheart a little brutality!#
The song quickly changes again, as the actresses playing Caroline Dallins and Jennifer Williams run forward, climbing in the ring. The early baseline for “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond begins, and Pollaski leaves the stage, being replaced by another guy holding a guitar and strumming it. It’s a bit off, but obviously intended to look like Lyn Dallins.
“Lyn”: #Where it began... it was Season Six of Future
Where she finished third and came on real strong
But that was the spring. And now that it’s turning summer.
Suddenly everything she does is wrong.#
“Caroline’s” doing somewhat of an interpretive dance here, while “Jennifer” looks on annoyed.
“Lyn:” #Cold... Choking Stone#
Training Hard, NOT DRINKING DEW!#
Sing along kids!
Choir: #MEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN CAAAROLINE!#
BA BA BA!
#Beatdowns never looked so good!#
It should be noticed that in the background, that “Caroline’s” ramming “Jennifer’s” head into the turnbuckle rhythm to the music.
Choir: #I AM INCLINED!#
BA BA BA!
#To hope she takes J-Will out behind the wood...shed yeah...#
“Lyn” looks as if he want to sing more, but suddenly a scream is heard, and the actress playing Jo suddenly finds herself into the middle of the circle, having been roughly pushed in by someone playing Chris Strike. “Strike” stalks towards her, an accusing finger pointing at "Jo", as the music changes again.
“Strike”: #Shut your fucking face Christian Fucker!
You’re a stupid cock guzzling cum dumpster Christian Fucker
You’re a Christian Fucker are you insane
To spread your legs for that Canuck lamebrain?#
Pollaski comes back on stage from the other side, screaming at "Jo" himself.
Pollaski: #You’re such a stupid whore Christian Fucker!
You’d lie on top of any guy who asked you, Christian Fucker
Your’e a Christian Fucker, you’ve got no guts!#
“Jo:” (speaking) Oh yeah? WATCH ME KICK HIM IN THE NUTS!
And as luck would have it, a Christian Kane lookalike has appeared right at that very moment. How convenient. “Kane” collapses to the floor, while everyone looks on in shocked silence, seemingly trying to come to a conclusion of what just happens. As is so often, Pollaski figures it out.
Pollaski: #You’re not fooling anyone, TIRRI FUCKER
You’re a classless teabagging sperm bank TIRRI FUCKER#
“Jo” calmly walks over, putting her arms around “Strike”, staring angrily back at Pollaski.
“Jo:” “I think I can sleep with whoever I choose.”
Pollaski: “You know what? … Wait... was this all a ruse?”
“Jo” and “Strike” grin wildly, and a long silence comes over the entire prouction, all music stopping. Pollaski simply scratches his head.
Pollaski: “Oh, well, this is awkward.”
Everyone’s staring at him, and now “Sabra” has come out to join “Strike” and “Jo” in the middle of the stage. Pollaski chuckles nervously.
Pollaski: “Here’s your opponents!”
Sure enough, two girls in wigs mimicking Raquel and Mickey step out, playing a guitar.
“Mickey” & “Raquel”: #We are the tag team known as Scarborough Fair#
*BLAM!*
*BLAM!*
Quickly, “Jo” and “Sabra” pull out shotguns, blowing the newcomers away. As they lie on the ground, a guy dressed in a dog costume runs out, grabbing both women, and holding their arms up like trophies, while the “Got ‘em!” music from Duck Hunt plays. Pollaski looks to the side, where Wendy is staring, a “Are you serious?” expression on her face.
Pollaski: “Um.. NEXT SONG!”
It’s Ob-la-Di by The Beatles. The girls playing Desirae Kain and Arianna Millar come out, singing alternate lines of a duet.
“Arianna:” #Desi is a wrestler in Fourth Future Shock#
“Desirae:” #Ari is a failure in T&A#
“Arianna:” #Desi wins the contest gets a tag team shot#
“Desirae:” #So she calls up Ari, and says “Come on, let’s play!”#
Everyone joins in for the chorus.
Choir: #UN-I-TY Tag team belts
They go ooooooooo-on!
La la la la la Eternal Flame
UN-I-TY Tag Team Belts
Gotta be stroooo-ong!
Angelic Cindy left that’s kinda lame#
Now it’s the other team’s turn, as girls playing Hayley and the (fat) Ignis step forward.
“Ignis:” #Hayley was a partner in the Cherrybombs
Kicked Belladonna’s ass out of the door#
“Hayley: #Teamed up with a fourth place Season Three drop out
Who got booted because Alvin Shephard’s a whore#
Choir: #UN-I-TY Tag Tag Team Belts
Match is Oooooo-on!
Spectra Fantasia they are no more
UN-I-TY Tag Team Belts
Like our sooooo-ong!
Danger Queens fell too behind in the score.#
“Hayley: & “Ignis”: #In a couple of months Bounce & Pounce they were the best#
“Desirae” & “Arianna”: #But soon they were stripped of both those shiny belts
Because Ignis failed a routine urine test
Oh, no no no no#
“Ignis” folds her arms over her chest, looking grumpy.
“Desirae” & “Arianna”: #Desi and Ari won the belts back for the second time
Claiming them back at Chaos Theory#
“Ignis” & “Hayley”: #Bounce and Pounce still claim it was a heinous crime
So they beat up contenders the last two Velocities#
Choir: #UN-I-TY UN-I-TAH
Rematch oooo-on!
Watch this match because it’s gonna rock
UN-I-TY UN-I-TAH
End of soooo-ong!
But still four more left in this whole damn crock!#
Choir: #And if you want some fun... It’s UN-I-TY TA-DA! HEY!#
The lights dim considerably, and the actresses playing Katherine Stryfe and Emma McIntyre step forward, beginning to slow dance with each other. Another actress, this one obviously Valerie Belmont (complete with baby in her arms) steps forward, as the tune changes to “Beauty and the Beast”
“Valerie:” #Tale as old as time
Tragic it might be
They were once great friends
Then somebody went
And teamed with mediocrity#
“Rebbecca:” HEY!
“Valerie”: #Former tag team champs
Now sworn enemies
Both a little nuts
Neither’s got a butt
Nightmare I-N-C”#
“Kat” and “Emma” seperate, looking forlorn.
“Valerie:” #Both are just insane!
So the fur will fly
Kick down all the doors
Put the pedal to the floor
Cause someone’s gonna die!”
“Kat” and “Emma” have drawn swords, and are swinging at each other in another stage fight.
“Valerie:” #Tale as old as time
Hard like a metal song
Neither knows their place
So they’ll pound each other’s face
How can you say it’s wrong?#
Both combatants step apart, as the song reaches its concluding stanza
“Valerie:” #Certain as a Deas
Will always be the least
Just be ready to flee
Cause this could get ugly
Nightmare I-N-C.#
Suddenly, the opening riff to the Scorpions “Rock You Like a Hurricane” begins to play, and the stage is transformed suddenly into a rock concert. An actor playing Anders Stark (with a really long glittering robe the real Anders probably wouldn’t be caught dead in) steps up to the microphone, while another actor playing Wolf (with fake beard!) is jamming on a guitar. Meanwhile, a third actress, this one playing Cara Stone is in the ring, practicing moves by herself.
“Stark:” #It’s early morning, she’s training hard
It wasn’t easy to get on this card
She made Becca bleed, to make the dance
And make the most out of her second chance!#
As “Anders” continues to sing, another girl, this one huskier, looking like Camilla Pazzini, and eating fried chicken, walks in. “Cara” immediately kicks her, causing “Camilla” to start choking.
“Stark:” #The champ’s complacent, she’s gotta go
Maybe it’ll happen at this upcoming show
A ten second count, that’s tough to do alone
But if anyone can... it’s CARA STONE!#
Meanwhile “Cara” is giving poor “Camilla” the Hiemlich maneuver. Unfortunately for them, no one else is noticing.
“Choir:” #Here she is... awesomesauce like a hurricane!
Here she is... awesomesauce like a huricaaaaaaa-ane!#
Everyone finally realizes that something’s departed from the script. As they all turn to look, the chicken in Camilla’s throat is dislodged, flying across the room, and smacking “Wolf” in the face. “Wolf” disgustedly tossed the chicken aside. Again, an awkward silence. From off-stage, Pollaski tries to keep things going.
Pollaski: Hardcoooooooooooooooooree...
Everyone gets the hint. Two more actors appear, both wearing suits. These could only be the dynamic duo (at least on stage) of Antony Gambini and Alexander Stryfe. Both are wearing sunglasses, and acting quite soulful.
Choir: #WAR HUNH! YEAH!
What is it good for?#
“Gambini:” #Settling unfinished business#
Choir: #WAR! HUNH! YEAH!
What is it good for?#
“Alex Stryfe:” #Lots and lots of buyrates
Say it again, now!#
Choir: #WAR! HUNH! YEAH!
What is it good for?#
“Gambini”: #Finishing this once and for all
Listen to me#
Both men sing together
“Gambini” & “Stryfe:” #Ohh... war! Two women who despise
It means absolute destruction of somebody’s life
One Stryfe will prevail, the other one cries
And there’s a pretty good chance that someone’s gonna die#
Choir: #WAR! HUH! GOOD GOD YALL!
What is it good for?#
“Alexander Stryfe:” #Two women who are cold heartbreakers!#
“Gambini” #Better speed dail the under taker#
“Choir” #WAR HUH YEAH!
What is it good for
I think you all already know that by now!#
Everyone stops as the music changes one more time, this time to “Like a Virgin” Surprisingly, it’s Wendy Briese (yes, the real one), appearing, dressed in her ring gear, and holding a microphone. She begins to sing in her pleasant soprano voice.
Wendy: #I made it through the tournament
I really made it through
Made Lumina Ferrari tap
Beat Starla McCloud too#
Wendy: #I was glad! Ms. Star was mad
She came out, flashed some attitude
Then at Chaos Theory.
Yeah at Chaos Theory, I got kinda screwed!#
It should be noted that for being such a prude, Wendy’s taken to a Madonna song rather well.
Wendy: #Like a champion
Defending for the very first time
Like a cha-a-ampion
For two months I’ve had this on my mind#
Behind Wendy, the actress playing Starla starts running around, looking terrified.
Wendy: #Starla’s got nowhere to hide now
Her reign is fading fast
If she won’t tap I’ll break something
Put her in a cast#
“Starla" bursts into tears upon hearing that.
Wendy: #I want to win, let’s begin
I’ll prevail, I will climb that fence
And maybe this time...
Yeah, maybe this time I’ll have a successful defense!#
Sheepish grin from Wendy
Wendy: #Like a Champion
Winning it for just the second time
Like a Cha-a-ampion
Time to rectify, this horrible criiiiiime
Whoaaaaa-oh-oh oh#
She immediately cuts to the outro, as the rest of the crew hops on stage.
Wendy: #With my Banshee
And my Gaspless
And my Celtic Knot
I’ve got plenty more
Yeah, like a Champion#
The music fades, and Wendy finds her self surrounded by the rest of the cast. As one, they raise their hands to the air.
Everyone: "CONVICTION!!!!!!"
And cut
The theme from the Crash Man Stage from Mega Man 2 plays, which provides a strangely fitting backdrop to the credits as they roll.
Daniel Pollaski as HIMSELF
Wendy Briese as HERSELF
Then comes the long scrolling list of actors and actresses who played the other wrestlers. Finally ending with...
SPECIAL THANKS THE MARION COUNTY COMMUNITY THEATER
WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY DANIEL POLLASKI
A CARTWHEEL GALAXY PRODUCTION
End of feed.
Methodist Hospital- Room 419
Indianapolis, Indiana
8:45 AM Local Time
“Ungh,” Wendy Briese groaned as her eyelids fluttered open, and she looked around the hospital room. Another night of sleeping in the chair hadn’t done her back any favor, and she stood up, stretching, trying to drive the aches out. Vaguely, some part of her realized it was Thanksgiving morning, but under the circumstances, she hardly cared.
She looked a wreck, and she knew it. She hadn’t showered in days, her clothes were rumpled and disheveled, her flame-colored hair embarassingly unkempt. But she didn’t care. She was here, and as long as her mother lay in that bed, she would continue to be.
She thought back to Sunday night, when she had arrived back in her locker room. She had changed out of her ring gear, and cleaned herself up, before rejoining Terrence in his own dressing room. There, the two had been content to lazily watch the rest of the pay-per-view play out. But maybe ten minutes after settling down, Wendy’s phone had rang, her mother’s number. Reluctantly, she answered.
And had been shocked to find her father on the phone instead.
There had been an accident, he said. They had been driving home from a party, when his car had mechanical problems. They had argued, and Gayle, drunk nearly to the point of incapacitation, tried to storm off. But she couldn’t keep her balance, or a straight line, and she had walked right into the path of an oncoming semi-truck. She wasn’t expected to make it through the night.
Terrence had driven her to the airport, where she had caught the first flight she could get on out. Eight hours of travelling later, including a nerve racking layover in Chicago, and she had arrived early Monday morning in a taxi cab direct from the airport.
And discovered her mother in this horrible, horrible condition.
It was a miracle, the doctor’s said, that she had survived this long. The right side of her body had been more or less caved in, nearly every bone broken. The internal bleeding could only be described as massive. But yet, she lived. For now.
Deep down, Wendy knew it was hardly a miracle. There was no salvation to be had in this lingering, this horrible limbo where pain and agony sat, inches away from the sweet painless release of death. And even if her mother would overcome the odds, she’d be in pain for the rest of her life, horribly bent and broken, unlikely to move ever again. But maybe, just maybe, that one in a million chance... would be her. It was all she had at this moment.
And so Wendy kept her bedside vigil. It was easy enough now, when the blankets covered her, and all she could see was Gayle’s face, largely undamaged, save for a couple scrapes and bruises from when she had fallen on the asphalt after being struck. The hard part was when the nurses came in twice a day to clean the wounds and refresh the bandages. Wendy had yet to fully last a cleaning, being able to handle only so much before fleeing the room, hovering outside until the grisly necessities were complete.
She hated herself as a coward for it, even though she kept telling herself that it was better she left to let the nurses work in peace, then staying there, and risk becoming hysterical.
She glanced at the clock. Perhaps a half hour until the next cleaning. Maybe she should get some breakfast then, even though she hardly felt hungry. She hadn’t eaten in a couple of days now. It would take just a few minutes to run down, and grab a bagel, or a croissant, or something.
She glanced at her cellphone, annoyed that no new calls had come in. Her father had left in the early afternoon yesterday, telling her that he had preparations to make. She couldn’t blame him, legal matters were one of many unpleasantries that came with the pending death of a loved one. And arrangements had to be made for the transport of the body to New York, where she would be buried in a small northern villiage that the Briese family used to vacation in in the summer.
But she was annoyed that he hadn’t called to check up on her. Surely he wasn’t so busy that a simple phone call requesting an update was out of line, right? Wendy had thought that at least maybe this tragedy would have enabled the past hurts to be forgotten, and draw the family back closer. But that was turning out to be as fruitless a hope as Gayle even recovering in the first place.
Terrence had called more often, every few hours for an update as he and Pollaski drove the RV back from Vegas. He’d be arriving later today, probably around noon, he had said. At least then she’d have someone to be with during all this. The worst part about the vigil was the loneliness you felt.
She looked back at Gayle, opening her mouth to say something. She had tried talking to her all the previous day, in some atttempt to get through to the unconscious woman, and to past the time. She told her stories about her experiences on the road. She recanted memories from her childhood. She recited every Irish fairy tale she could remember. She sang the Broadway songs she had learned, her soprano voice occasionally cracking with emotion,
But most of all, she told her mother how sorry she was for her outburst, and for turning her back on her when it was the worst possible thing she could do. And that she had to get better, so they could make things better.
Today though, Wendy had nothing to say, and she shut her mouth with a deflated sigh. Instead, she leaned forward, and planted a soft kiss on Gayle’s forehead, then stood up. She was going to duck down and get that breakfast after all.
Wendy turned to leave, but a movement out of the corner of her eye stopped her. She turned back, her jaw dropping as she saw her mother’s left hand being raised. It wasn’t much, and it was certainly a feeble gesture, but it was more than she had seen before. The shock only deepened as Gayle’s mouth emitted a noise. It wasn’t intelligible, more a groan than anything, but again, it was more than she’d been doing.
“Mom?” Wendy breathed as she rushed back to the bedside, hope rising in her bosom for the first time in nearly forty-eight hours. “Mother? Can you hear me?”
She gently clapsed Gayle’s hand in her’s, patting the top of it as she looked down at her face, a hopeful smile flashing through. Gayle’s hand trembled slightly, and Wendy squeezed gently.
It took several seconds to realize the trembling was growing more and more intense, and Wendy yelped as Gayle’s whole body shuddered, a bit of foam forming around the woman’s mouth.
She wasn’t recovering, Wendy realized. She was convulsing.
“Oh my God” Wendy whimpered, staring at her mother in disbelief, before the panic finally set in. Looking around wildly, she remembered the door to the room, and sprinted towards it.
“HELP!” she screamed, hysteria in her voice. “SOMEONE HELP!”
The nurse at the desk reacted first, running over towards her, brushing by Wendy to look in the room. She spun, and ordered another nurse to “get Dr. Gilmour.” The second nurse ran off, even as two more entered.
“What’s going on?” Wendy demanded, as the three nurses began working frantically on the trembling woman. “What’s happening!”
“Get her out of here!” One nurse snarled, and the third nurse, a larger man, got up, gently grabbing Wendy and guiding her to the door.
“NO!” Wendy protested, trying to crane her vision around the orderly. “What’s going on?”
“Calm down and be quiet if you want to stay,” the big nurse ordered her, firmly but not unkindly.
By now, the doctor had entered, and joined in the efforts on her. The big nurse had stopped trying to remove her, but still kept her pinned on the other side of the room, and Wendy watched as the medical staff quickly went to work, medical jargon flying back and forth between them as they calmly did their jobs.
Their calm only aggrivated Wendy more, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. Why weren’t they fixing this? Why weren’t they making her mother better?
Suddenly, Gayle went still, and a long steady beeping filled the room. As one, the doctor and nurses stopped working, their shoulders slumping in resigned defeat. Several seconds went by, before one of the nurses flipped off the EKG monitor, the beeping coming to a stop. The room was silent, heavy with a sense of finality.
“N...no... no..” Wendy protested, looking at the doctor.
“She’s gone,” the doctor finally said softly, looking over at her. “I’m sorry.”
“Revive her! Use those electric paddle things!” Wendy demanded.
“The defibrillator won’t make a difference,” the doctor replied, remaining calm an professional. Obviously this wasn’t the first hysterical family member he’d dealt with in his career. He walked up to Wendy, putting his arm on her shoulder. “She’s at peace now. She’s not hurting anymore.”
Wendy took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, as the doctor turned towards the nurses, giving them various orders on various procedural necessities upon the death of a patient. One by one the nurses left the room, leaving her and the doctor.
“Can.. can I stay with her?” Wendy asked, her voice trembling.
The doctor nodded. “It’ll be a few minutes before the mo.. someone comes up. I’m sorry for your loss.”
It sounded heartfelt, but at the same time, Wendy had a feeling it was something he was used enough to saying by now. Solemnly, the doctor left the room.
Leaving Wendy alone with her mother.
Wendy approached the bed slowly, looking down at Gayle’s body. The doctor was right, she looked far more peaceful than she had been before. Her face was relaxed, and in death, even the faintest hint of a smile had formed on her features. Wendy leaned forward again, trembling, and planted another soft kiss on her forehead. She whimpered again, knowing that it was truly and utterly a goodbye kiss.
A glint of gold caught her eye, and she looked down at her mom’s neck. A shiny golden cross sat there- the rosary necklace Gayle had given her on her first day of school- and the one she had torn off in anger the last time she had seen her. Gingerly, reverently, she reached down, grabbing the necklace, an yanking softly, the clasp undoing, the rosary coming free.
Wendy looked down at the cross, cradling the chain in her hand. She knew her mom would have wanted her to have it back. How much it hurt her that Wendy had discarded it in the first place.
“I’m sorry, Mommy.” Wendy said, and that was all she could get out before everything in her broke down, and she collapsed back in her chair, as every last shred of control she had melted away into a flood of tears and sobbing.
====================
Thursday November 28, 2002
Downtown Mariott Hotel- Room 1451
Indianapolis, Indiana
9:35 AM Local Time
It was times like these that Augustus Briese was glad he was such a damn good actor.
He sat on the bed, cellphone up to his ear, listening to his so-called daughter’s hysterical sobbing from the other line. He couldn’t quite decipher the girl through her warbled wailing, but he could guess well enough. Gayle had passed on this morning.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Gus said into the phone, for perhaps the seventeenth time of the call. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and just simply hang up. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I’m just finishing up here. I’ll see you soon. Goodbye.”
“Finishing up?” Asked a female voice in a Ukranian accent as he hung up the phone. “I thought we were just getting started.”
“Sorry,” sighed Gus, glancing at the naked form of the woman lying on the bed next to him. “That was Wendy. Gayle died this morning.”
“Mmm. Took her long enough,” Ivana purred, turning towards him like a stretching cat. “Shame she suffered for so long.”
“Have a care, woman.” Gus snapped. “She was my wife for twenty three years, dammit. Even if I did do what had to be done, it doesn’t mean I liked it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mister Briese,” Ivana said in mock-surprise. “I didn’t know you were in grieving.” She moved closer, pressing her body to his, whispering seductively in his ear. “I know all kinds of ways to cure grief.”
Gus arched an eyebrow as he stared at his mistress (was she his mistress anymore?). “Tempting,” he said, turning to face her, and the two pressed their bodies together. “I suppose Wendy can wait a bit as I... mourn in my own special way.”
Ivana giggled lustily, as the two began to passionately kiss, Gus rolling them over so he was on top. For just a second, she broke their liplock. “So when does Yuri get to meet Wendy? It’s a shame his introduction to Gayle was so... quick.”
“Hm.. he did well.” Gus replied. Yuri had played his part perfectly, waiting in the woods by milepost 120 until Gayle had exited the car, shoved her in front of that truck, then disappeared back into the forest before anyone saw him. It was perfect- Gayle never saw it coming, and no one would suspect a third person involved- meaning his version of Gayle drunkenly stumbling into traffic would be accepted without question. “But really, must we talk about the children while fucking?”
“Sorry,” Ivana giggled as she wrapped both legs around him, and pressed her lips back to his.
Gus returned it, closing his eyes. The hospital could wait another hour, or two.
Or maybe even three.
=========================
Wednesday May 23, 2012
Marion County Community Theater- Auditorium
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:19 PM Local time
Black screen. At least until words appear on the screen in bright red lettering, one line appearing and fading before the next appears.
CARTWHEEL GALAXY PRODUCTIONS PRESENT
A DANIEL POLLASKI PRODUCTION
IN ASSOCIATION WITH THE MARION COUNTY COMMUNITY THEATER.
WRITTEN BY DANIEL POLLASKI
CONVICTION! THE MUSICAL
Fade up.
As the picture comes in, we’re in a rather decently sized auditorium, looking at the stage, where upon it a small wrestling ring has been placed, where two girls in leotards are busy staggering around in a collar and elbow, both girls grunting. Not too far away, standing in the center of the stage, glancing over her shoulder at the women grappling is Wendy Briese. Smiling, she turns to the camera, sticking her thumb over her shoulder to point at them.
Wendy: “Rookies. Training for their big break. Sounds crazy, no? But here, in our little company of Femme Fatale Wrestling, you might say everyone of us is like those rookies. Trying to perfect our craft. To get noticed, before we get hurt. It’s not easy. You might ask... why do we do it, if it’s so dangerous?”
Wendy shrugs, turning to walk towards the ring.
Wendy: “Well, we do it because we love it. And FFW is our home. So what is this ‘big thing’ we’re training so hard, and trying to get ready for? That, I can tell you in one word!”
Wendy grins, and flings her arms out wide.
Wendy: “CONVICTION!”
As the orchestral opening to “Tradition” from Fiddler on the Roof begins, the stage suddenly comes alive as several dozen women walk onstage, each dressed up like a different FFW wrestler, and Wendy blends into the crowd. Some are actually pretty dead on impersonations, while other’s are a bit looser. None are really that offensive, although the girl playing Ignis is about eighty pounds too heavy. For the record “choir” pretty much means everyone on stage.
Choir: #CONVICTIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON! CONVICTION!#
#CONVICTION!#
#CONVICTIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON! CONVICTION!#
#CONVICTION!*#
Suddenly, the music changes to “One Night In Bangkok” from the musical Chess. The women all dance, forming a perfect circle around the ring, and as the orchestral opening ends, Daniel Pollaski (the real one) suddenly appears in the ring, dressed in a glittering tuxedo, as he half sings/half-speaks the lyrics.
Pollaski: #Denver the Mile High City
The city knows what’s coming and it’s whipped in a frenzy
The creme de la creme of the wrestling world
In a show with everything but Stacey Mackenzie.#
Horns blare, as the girls all pirouette as one.
Pollaski: #Time flies, doesn’t seem a minute
Since the FFW title had Scarlett’s waist in it.
How strange, but don’t you know that when you
Compete at this level you get a pretty damn good venue.#
The actress playing Scarlett’s bowed her head sadly, as the rest continue to dance.
Pollaski: #You’re in Seattle, or New Orleans, or Indianapolis, or... or this place!#
Pollaski spreads his arms wide as a silhouette of the Denver skyline appears behind him. As it does, the actress playing Tara Thunder goes to the center, doing a series of gymnastic flips that the real Tara Thunder probably wouldn’t be able to do. The women all sing the choral part.
Choir: #One night in Denver and the tough girls tumble.
Not much between defeat and victory
You’ll see the greatness that is Tara Thunder
Unless she’s swept out by a Tsunami
I can see our owner watching this one closely#
On cue, the actress playing Eileen Amaro runs up, and kicks Tara in the butt, sending her sprawling. Tara gets up, and the two women begin stage fighting, neither getting an advantage. Pollaski goes back to half-singing.
Pollaski: #Denver’s gonna be the witness
To the Ultimate test of Physical Fitness
This grips me anyore than any ski resort
Or abandoned Indian Fort
But thank God I’m only watching the matches, screaming suggestions.#
Pollaski shrugs, and leans against the ring ropes.
Pollaski: #I don’t see you guys beating
The kind of ladies you’ll see competing.
I’d let you try, I would invite you
But the Queen we have will kinda frighten you#
“Jennifer Stryfe:” BOO!
As she jumps out, all the girls gasp, and move as far away from her as possible, the music stopping as she does- save for the girl playing Kaitlynn Stryfe who just glares at her.
Pollaski: Easy girls, save that for later in the show.
Music back on
Pollaski: #So you better go back to your jello pits, and mud pools. Your baby oil.#
Choir: #One night in Denver and the landscape changes
You couldn’t show this much on free TV
You might just see a brand new TV Champion
But either way someone will make history
And give Traci Loveheart a little brutality!#
The song quickly changes again, as the actresses playing Caroline Dallins and Jennifer Williams run forward, climbing in the ring. The early baseline for “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond begins, and Pollaski leaves the stage, being replaced by another guy holding a guitar and strumming it. It’s a bit off, but obviously intended to look like Lyn Dallins.
“Lyn”: #Where it began... it was Season Six of Future
Where she finished third and came on real strong
But that was the spring. And now that it’s turning summer.
Suddenly everything she does is wrong.#
“Caroline’s” doing somewhat of an interpretive dance here, while “Jennifer” looks on annoyed.
“Lyn:” #Cold... Choking Stone#
Training Hard, NOT DRINKING DEW!#
Sing along kids!
Choir: #MEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN CAAAROLINE!#
BA BA BA!
#Beatdowns never looked so good!#
It should be noticed that in the background, that “Caroline’s” ramming “Jennifer’s” head into the turnbuckle rhythm to the music.
Choir: #I AM INCLINED!#
BA BA BA!
#To hope she takes J-Will out behind the wood...shed yeah...#
“Lyn” looks as if he want to sing more, but suddenly a scream is heard, and the actress playing Jo suddenly finds herself into the middle of the circle, having been roughly pushed in by someone playing Chris Strike. “Strike” stalks towards her, an accusing finger pointing at "Jo", as the music changes again.
“Strike”: #Shut your fucking face Christian Fucker!
You’re a stupid cock guzzling cum dumpster Christian Fucker
You’re a Christian Fucker are you insane
To spread your legs for that Canuck lamebrain?#
Pollaski comes back on stage from the other side, screaming at "Jo" himself.
Pollaski: #You’re such a stupid whore Christian Fucker!
You’d lie on top of any guy who asked you, Christian Fucker
Your’e a Christian Fucker, you’ve got no guts!#
“Jo:” (speaking) Oh yeah? WATCH ME KICK HIM IN THE NUTS!
And as luck would have it, a Christian Kane lookalike has appeared right at that very moment. How convenient. “Kane” collapses to the floor, while everyone looks on in shocked silence, seemingly trying to come to a conclusion of what just happens. As is so often, Pollaski figures it out.
Pollaski: #You’re not fooling anyone, TIRRI FUCKER
You’re a classless teabagging sperm bank TIRRI FUCKER#
“Jo” calmly walks over, putting her arms around “Strike”, staring angrily back at Pollaski.
“Jo:” “I think I can sleep with whoever I choose.”
Pollaski: “You know what? … Wait... was this all a ruse?”
“Jo” and “Strike” grin wildly, and a long silence comes over the entire prouction, all music stopping. Pollaski simply scratches his head.
Pollaski: “Oh, well, this is awkward.”
Everyone’s staring at him, and now “Sabra” has come out to join “Strike” and “Jo” in the middle of the stage. Pollaski chuckles nervously.
Pollaski: “Here’s your opponents!”
Sure enough, two girls in wigs mimicking Raquel and Mickey step out, playing a guitar.
“Mickey” & “Raquel”: #We are the tag team known as Scarborough Fair#
*BLAM!*
*BLAM!*
Quickly, “Jo” and “Sabra” pull out shotguns, blowing the newcomers away. As they lie on the ground, a guy dressed in a dog costume runs out, grabbing both women, and holding their arms up like trophies, while the “Got ‘em!” music from Duck Hunt plays. Pollaski looks to the side, where Wendy is staring, a “Are you serious?” expression on her face.
Pollaski: “Um.. NEXT SONG!”
It’s Ob-la-Di by The Beatles. The girls playing Desirae Kain and Arianna Millar come out, singing alternate lines of a duet.
“Arianna:” #Desi is a wrestler in Fourth Future Shock#
“Desirae:” #Ari is a failure in T&A#
“Arianna:” #Desi wins the contest gets a tag team shot#
“Desirae:” #So she calls up Ari, and says “Come on, let’s play!”#
Everyone joins in for the chorus.
Choir: #UN-I-TY Tag team belts
They go ooooooooo-on!
La la la la la Eternal Flame
UN-I-TY Tag Team Belts
Gotta be stroooo-ong!
Angelic Cindy left that’s kinda lame#
Now it’s the other team’s turn, as girls playing Hayley and the (fat) Ignis step forward.
“Ignis:” #Hayley was a partner in the Cherrybombs
Kicked Belladonna’s ass out of the door#
“Hayley: #Teamed up with a fourth place Season Three drop out
Who got booted because Alvin Shephard’s a whore#
Choir: #UN-I-TY Tag Tag Team Belts
Match is Oooooo-on!
Spectra Fantasia they are no more
UN-I-TY Tag Team Belts
Like our sooooo-ong!
Danger Queens fell too behind in the score.#
“Hayley: & “Ignis”: #In a couple of months Bounce & Pounce they were the best#
“Desirae” & “Arianna”: #But soon they were stripped of both those shiny belts
Because Ignis failed a routine urine test
Oh, no no no no#
“Ignis” folds her arms over her chest, looking grumpy.
“Desirae” & “Arianna”: #Desi and Ari won the belts back for the second time
Claiming them back at Chaos Theory#
“Ignis” & “Hayley”: #Bounce and Pounce still claim it was a heinous crime
So they beat up contenders the last two Velocities#
Choir: #UN-I-TY UN-I-TAH
Rematch oooo-on!
Watch this match because it’s gonna rock
UN-I-TY UN-I-TAH
End of soooo-ong!
But still four more left in this whole damn crock!#
Choir: #And if you want some fun... It’s UN-I-TY TA-DA! HEY!#
The lights dim considerably, and the actresses playing Katherine Stryfe and Emma McIntyre step forward, beginning to slow dance with each other. Another actress, this one obviously Valerie Belmont (complete with baby in her arms) steps forward, as the tune changes to “Beauty and the Beast”
“Valerie:” #Tale as old as time
Tragic it might be
They were once great friends
Then somebody went
And teamed with mediocrity#
“Rebbecca:” HEY!
“Valerie”: #Former tag team champs
Now sworn enemies
Both a little nuts
Neither’s got a butt
Nightmare I-N-C”#
“Kat” and “Emma” seperate, looking forlorn.
“Valerie:” #Both are just insane!
So the fur will fly
Kick down all the doors
Put the pedal to the floor
Cause someone’s gonna die!”
“Kat” and “Emma” have drawn swords, and are swinging at each other in another stage fight.
“Valerie:” #Tale as old as time
Hard like a metal song
Neither knows their place
So they’ll pound each other’s face
How can you say it’s wrong?#
Both combatants step apart, as the song reaches its concluding stanza
“Valerie:” #Certain as a Deas
Will always be the least
Just be ready to flee
Cause this could get ugly
Nightmare I-N-C.#
Suddenly, the opening riff to the Scorpions “Rock You Like a Hurricane” begins to play, and the stage is transformed suddenly into a rock concert. An actor playing Anders Stark (with a really long glittering robe the real Anders probably wouldn’t be caught dead in) steps up to the microphone, while another actor playing Wolf (with fake beard!) is jamming on a guitar. Meanwhile, a third actress, this one playing Cara Stone is in the ring, practicing moves by herself.
“Stark:” #It’s early morning, she’s training hard
It wasn’t easy to get on this card
She made Becca bleed, to make the dance
And make the most out of her second chance!#
As “Anders” continues to sing, another girl, this one huskier, looking like Camilla Pazzini, and eating fried chicken, walks in. “Cara” immediately kicks her, causing “Camilla” to start choking.
“Stark:” #The champ’s complacent, she’s gotta go
Maybe it’ll happen at this upcoming show
A ten second count, that’s tough to do alone
But if anyone can... it’s CARA STONE!#
Meanwhile “Cara” is giving poor “Camilla” the Hiemlich maneuver. Unfortunately for them, no one else is noticing.
“Choir:” #Here she is... awesomesauce like a hurricane!
Here she is... awesomesauce like a huricaaaaaaa-ane!#
Everyone finally realizes that something’s departed from the script. As they all turn to look, the chicken in Camilla’s throat is dislodged, flying across the room, and smacking “Wolf” in the face. “Wolf” disgustedly tossed the chicken aside. Again, an awkward silence. From off-stage, Pollaski tries to keep things going.
Pollaski: Hardcoooooooooooooooooree...
Everyone gets the hint. Two more actors appear, both wearing suits. These could only be the dynamic duo (at least on stage) of Antony Gambini and Alexander Stryfe. Both are wearing sunglasses, and acting quite soulful.
Choir: #WAR HUNH! YEAH!
What is it good for?#
“Gambini:” #Settling unfinished business#
Choir: #WAR! HUNH! YEAH!
What is it good for?#
“Alex Stryfe:” #Lots and lots of buyrates
Say it again, now!#
Choir: #WAR! HUNH! YEAH!
What is it good for?#
“Gambini”: #Finishing this once and for all
Listen to me#
Both men sing together
“Gambini” & “Stryfe:” #Ohh... war! Two women who despise
It means absolute destruction of somebody’s life
One Stryfe will prevail, the other one cries
And there’s a pretty good chance that someone’s gonna die#
Choir: #WAR! HUH! GOOD GOD YALL!
What is it good for?#
“Alexander Stryfe:” #Two women who are cold heartbreakers!#
“Gambini” #Better speed dail the under taker#
“Choir” #WAR HUH YEAH!
What is it good for
I think you all already know that by now!#
Everyone stops as the music changes one more time, this time to “Like a Virgin” Surprisingly, it’s Wendy Briese (yes, the real one), appearing, dressed in her ring gear, and holding a microphone. She begins to sing in her pleasant soprano voice.
Wendy: #I made it through the tournament
I really made it through
Made Lumina Ferrari tap
Beat Starla McCloud too#
Wendy: #I was glad! Ms. Star was mad
She came out, flashed some attitude
Then at Chaos Theory.
Yeah at Chaos Theory, I got kinda screwed!#
It should be noted that for being such a prude, Wendy’s taken to a Madonna song rather well.
Wendy: #Like a champion
Defending for the very first time
Like a cha-a-ampion
For two months I’ve had this on my mind#
Behind Wendy, the actress playing Starla starts running around, looking terrified.
Wendy: #Starla’s got nowhere to hide now
Her reign is fading fast
If she won’t tap I’ll break something
Put her in a cast#
“Starla" bursts into tears upon hearing that.
Wendy: #I want to win, let’s begin
I’ll prevail, I will climb that fence
And maybe this time...
Yeah, maybe this time I’ll have a successful defense!#
Sheepish grin from Wendy
Wendy: #Like a Champion
Winning it for just the second time
Like a Cha-a-ampion
Time to rectify, this horrible criiiiiime
Whoaaaaa-oh-oh oh#
She immediately cuts to the outro, as the rest of the crew hops on stage.
Wendy: #With my Banshee
And my Gaspless
And my Celtic Knot
I’ve got plenty more
Yeah, like a Champion#
The music fades, and Wendy finds her self surrounded by the rest of the cast. As one, they raise their hands to the air.
Everyone: "CONVICTION!!!!!!"
And cut
The theme from the Crash Man Stage from Mega Man 2 plays, which provides a strangely fitting backdrop to the credits as they roll.
Daniel Pollaski as HIMSELF
Wendy Briese as HERSELF
Then comes the long scrolling list of actors and actresses who played the other wrestlers. Finally ending with...
SPECIAL THANKS THE MARION COUNTY COMMUNITY THEATER
WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY DANIEL POLLASKI
A CARTWHEEL GALAXY PRODUCTION
End of feed.
EPISODE 177: Pushed Too Far
Sunday November 24, 2002
Thomas & Mack Center- Backstage Hallway
Las Vegas, Nevada
7:31 PM Local Time
“We did it again!” Wendy Briese giggled as the WhirlyBirdz burst through the backstage curtain, their World Tag Team Championship belts still slung over their shoulders. It had been one of the most difficult title defenses they had been through- they actually had been underdogs to one of the teams in the triple threat match, but had managed to overcome the odds yet again and retain their titles, to the cheers of the rabid Las Vegas crowd.
“Never any doubt, really,” Terrence grinned, as the two ducked out of the backstage area and into a side corridor that lead to the locker room. He embraced Wendy, planting a kiss on her, which the redhead returned eagerly. For several long seconds, the two remained embraced passionately, before Wendy, her face flushed, and not just from the match, broke away.
“We should go get cleaned up. Don’t you want to watch the main event?”
“I’d rather do this,” Terrence replied, a mischevious grin on his face.
Wendy smiled, then smacked her fiancee playfully. “You know what I’m going to say to that, hon.”
Terrence smiled forlornly, rolling his eyes good naturedly. “Yeah yeah. Not til we’re married.”
“Oh, don’t look so glum. It’s not like we’re talking about three years here, just a few months. And then... “ she paused, smiling. “I promise you it’ll be worth it.”
“Well, we’re in Vegas,” Terrence grinned. “We could get it done tonight if you want.”
Wendy burst out laughing at her boyfriend’s suggestion. “Right. Because that’s how every little girl dreams of their wedding day. A post wrestling match trip through a drive-thru wedding chapel.”
“Well, how WOULD you like it?” Terrence replied, turning and putting his arm around Wendy, the two resuming their walk back to their locker rooms. “Might as well start planning.”
“I want it in a big cathedral, with all our friends there.” Wendy mused, “And a live band playing the reception, and the biggest cake you’d ever seen. And your Uncle Steve standing up with you, while my-” she cut off immediately, realizing what she had just said.
Terrence grimaced. He hadn’t hoped the subject of Wendy’s parents would be breached- not when everything had gone so damn well tonight, but such as it was. “I’m sorry.” He finally said.
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Wendy said softly. She paused for a few long seconds, then sighed. “Mother called the other day. Left a message inviting us to Thanksgiving.”
“Are you going to go?” Terrence asked.
“Of course not!” Wendy snorted, as if the idea of spending Thanksgiving with her parents was the worst thing imaginable. “They disowned me, Terrence! And now they’re getting a divorce? Because vows don’t mean anything to them? Those two idiots are tearing our family apart, and now they’re inviting me for a front row seat? To hell with them.”
Terrence waited patiently as Wendy ranted, before squeezing his girlfriend closer to him. “I think we should go.”
Wendy looked up at him, her mouth agape. “Are you out of your MIND?”
“Probably, but that’s not the point,” Terrence chuckled. “Look, hon. You know what your father is, and now your mom does too. He’s cheated on her. He’s a selfish prick who’s resorted to mental manipulation and intimidation to get what he wants. Can you blame her for wanting to leave him?”
“Then she should have known what he was like BEFORE she married him!” Wendy declared.
“That may be the most callous thing I’ve ever heard you say, hon,” Terrence replied, arching an eyebrow. “If we get married, and it turns out I really really enjoy hitting you... would you leave me?”
“Of course I would. But this is different. Daddy never abused-”
“The hell he didn’t,” Terrence said fiercely. “Mental abuse is still abuse, and it leaves its marks. Like maybe a complete unwillingness to forgive your mother even when she’s reaching out to you.”
“Why are we even having this conversation?” Wendy snapped, turning to walk away. “Tonight’s supposed to be a happy night.”
“I’m just saying, I don’t think this mess is her fault. And she’s not going to be around forever.” Terrence said quietly.
Wendy stopped, and turned around. She had never seen Terrence looking as serious as she did at that moment. Of course he’d know about that- he’d lost his parents at the age of five.
“I’m sorry,” Wendy said, quietly.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Terrence said. “I was too young to really have regrets about it. You’re not.”
Wendy felt deflated as she leaned against the wall, all the exuberance and adrenaline of the match having left her. She stared at her boots for a long while, before looking up at the man she loved. “I’ll call her tomorrow. But no promises.”
Terrence smiled softly as he reached out again to embrace her, and the two resumed their walk back to the locker rooms.
“No promises.”
=============================
Sunday November 24, 2002
City Streets- Augustus Briese’s Porsche 911
Indianapolis, Indiana
10:38 PM Local Time
Gayle Briese sat quietly in the passenger seat, waiting for her husband to finish dealing with the valet. She watched as Augustus pulled out his wallet, and hand the valet a couple bills, the expression on the man’s face suggesting that the tip he had just received was on the offensively pathetic side. Of course, he tried to keep both his dismay and disdain hidden, well enough so that Augustus simply turned his back on him, walked around the car, and got in.
“You shafted the boy,” Gayle commented as Gus started the engine, revving the 911 a couple of times before putting it into gear, and pulling away.
“I paid the boy for his services,” Gus replied, a low tone. “Why should I have to pay a man extra for simply doing his job?”
“Because that’s what polite people do!” Gayle snapped, then sighed. “You know damn well that people like him are paid very little base salary, and tips make up for the remainder.”
“Not my problem.” Gus replied callously. “I sure as hell didn’t design things that way...”
“And thank God you didn’t!” Gayle replied. “I’d hate to imagine what a world that actually bent to your whims would really be like.”
Gus’ eyes narrowed, and he glared daggers at Gayle, his mouth becoming thin. “It might not be as bad as you’d think.” He finally growled in his Irish brogue, but then his voice softened. “It’s been such a lovely evening, Gayle. It was a wonderful benefit night, and I’m glad that you still saw fit to attend. Must we ruin it now by fighting?”
“Just take me home,” Gayle whispered, as she looked out the window at the buildings as they passed through downtown. It had been a little over a month since that night in Chicago, when the last coverings of Gus’ facade had finally fell away, revealing the true man he was. She had found a condominium on the northern outskirts of town. She planned to stay there until the divorce was finalized, and then... who knew? Back to Ireland, most likely.
The land she never should have left, especially for the sake of this man.
Gus apparently wasn’t so eager to let the conversation die. “What are you doing on Thursday? The Rutherford’s have invited us to share Thanksgiving dinner with them.”
“I’m not interested.” Gayle replied icily. “I went with you tonight for the sake of appearances. That doesn’t mean I’m interested in not following through-”
“Of course,” Gus replied as he turned the car onto northbound I-65, accelerating rapidly up the on-ramp. “I just didn’t want you to spend Thanksgiving by yourself. Or are you going to be spending it with-”
“No, I’m not.” Gayle cut him off angrily. She took a deep breath trying to control her emotion. “She won’t answer my phone calls, or respond to me in any way. Our daughter-”
“She’s not our daughter anymore, apparently. She’s the one who walked out-”
“Shut up! Just shut up and drive me home!” Gayle snapped, wiping away a tear that spilled from her eye. She clutched the rosary around her neck, the same one Wendy had discarded on the floor that night in the hotel room.
“Do you blame me for that?” Gus chuckled, glancing sideways at her. When Gayle didn’t answer he continued. “Might I remind you that it was YOU who told her that we were going to disown her. Had you kept your mouth shut, especially at that moment...”
“I know!” Gayle breathed. “You don’t think I don’t? I’ll regret that to my dying day.”
“Why?” Gus asked. “We gave her a choice, Gayle. Her career or her family. She chose her career.”
“She shouldn’t have had to choose either way!” Gayle replied bitterly. “And she’ll have a new family soon enough.”
“With who, the Thompson boy?” Gus snorted. “She’ll be on the streets in five years, begging or whoring herself out because of that man. He’s no good, he’s never been good.”
“And how do you know that, Gus?” Gayle demanded. “Or do you just assume all men are like you?”
“Like me? You mean like the man who gave you everything you ever wanted in life? The man who took an overlooked struggling understudy and made her a star? That kind of man?”
“And how many corpses were burned to make this star shine, Gus?” Gayle snapped back. “How many sins were committed for a few short fleeting years of-”
“You didn’t complain at the time,” Gus replied. “It’s always funny how regret only comes after the lights go out and the music stops.” He glanced down at his dashboard. “Shit,” he growled, slowing the car down.
“What’s going on? Why are we pulling onto the shoulder?” Gayle asked.
“Something’s wrong with the engine.” Gus muttered, lightly breaking and coming to a stop right next to the milepost 120 sign.
“I don’t hear anything,” Gayle replied. “And isn’t this a new car?”
“Oh, so you’re an expert now?” Gus asked sarcastically as he shut off the car. “Have you taken to studying cars to be closer to your future son-in-law? Actually, that’d be a great way to stop the wedding. You always were good at fucking to get what you want.”
*SMACK*
Gayle was certainly glad Gus wasn’t driving anymore as her palm smashed into his face. Gus, for his part, merely glared back at her, before grinning svagely. “Do be careful, dear. In this day and age, it’s as easy for the husband to claim spousal abuse as it is for the wife.”
And with that, he popped the hood, and left the car.
Gayle sat steaming in the passenger seat, her arms folded across her chest. The only thing keeping her from getting out of the damned car and walking home herself was the, distance, the high heels, and the frigid weather. She had hoped that the threat of a divorce would have at least cowed Gus, to make him pretend to act reasonable. But he had almost seemed to take a delight in it, as if their pending seperation gave him carte blanche to be as insufferable a jackass as he could be.
She pulled out her phone, and scrolled through her address book, grimacing at the number of names she had to pass to get to the “W” area. Names she couldn’t give a flying damn about now, even if she had once. But there, towards the bottom, was Wendy’s entry.
It almost seemed fitting.
She pressed the enter button, and Wendy’s number came up. Still the 317 area code for Indianapolis, even though she had been living in New England for the better part of the last year. She moved her thumb over the green button, ready to press it and make the call. For several seconds, she hovered, before finally shutting her phone off.
She wouldn’t answer. Why would she? She hadn’t the last dozen times Gayle had tried to call her. Besides, she was in Vegas tonight, wrestling at that massive pay-per-view. Maybe she was out there right now, competing.
“Stay safe, love” Gayle whispered, putting her phone back into her purse. She wanted reconciliation with her daughter, and sooner rather than later. But it wouldn’t happen tonight. She hoped it’d happen sooner than later.
And what the hell was taking Gus?
She opened the passenger door of the Porsche, slipping outside. She gasped at how cold the night was- if it wasn’t below freezing, it would be by the time morning came around. Hardly the best weather to be stranded alongside the road. She walked up to the front of the car, looking at Gus, who had the hood up, and was gingerly poking at various cables and connections under the hood, a small light on the bottom of the bonnet providing illumination.
“Find anything?” Gayle asked, raising her voice to be heard over the passing traffic on the freeway.
“Nah,” Gus grunted. “I’m not a mechanic. Just thought maybe something got loose. Doesn’t look to be it.”
“Want me to call a tow truck?” Gayle asked, wishing she hadn’t left her purse in the car.
“Give me a few more minutes,” Gus grunted, turning back to the hood. Gayle watched as he poked and prodded some more, occasionally glancing out at the freeway to watch the car’s passing by.
“Gus, I’m going to call a tow truck. You can’t fix this.” Gayle finally said again after a few more minutes, turning to walk towards the passenger side.
“Gayle! Wait!”
Gayle stopped as Gus stood up, turning towards her. He walked towards her, and Gayle was surprised to see the expression on his face. It was one of solemnity, mixed with a bit of sadness.
“I’m sorry, Gayle. I know I made a lot of mistakes on a lot of things. I just wanted you to know that.”
Gayle stopped, and stared at the man she had been married to for over twenty years. It was an odd thing for him to say. Gus shrugged, and went back to his fruitless examination of the Porsche. Gayle shook her head, and turned to again retrieve her phone, but stopped as something caught her out of the corner of her eye. She turned, and was shocked to realize a third person was there!
Even in the darkness, she could tell he was a big man, at least a foot and a half taller than her. She turned to get a better look, but before she could, she was shoved, hard.
Everything happened in mere seconds. Gayle grunted in protest as she stumbled from the push, pinwheeling her arms to keep her balance, nearly falling in her high heels. For a fleeting moment, she saw that Gus had turned to look at her, that exact same expression on his face.
*HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*
Gayle spun just in time to see two headlights of a semi-truck, merely feet away, bearing down on her. She tried diving out of the way, but as she did, a strange rushing noise filled her eardrums, growing louder, and louder, as the headlights grew brighter.
Then, with the world engulfed in light, and the rushing sound deafening, something hard slammed into her side, and she knew no more.
Thomas & Mack Center- Backstage Hallway
Las Vegas, Nevada
7:31 PM Local Time
“We did it again!” Wendy Briese giggled as the WhirlyBirdz burst through the backstage curtain, their World Tag Team Championship belts still slung over their shoulders. It had been one of the most difficult title defenses they had been through- they actually had been underdogs to one of the teams in the triple threat match, but had managed to overcome the odds yet again and retain their titles, to the cheers of the rabid Las Vegas crowd.
“Never any doubt, really,” Terrence grinned, as the two ducked out of the backstage area and into a side corridor that lead to the locker room. He embraced Wendy, planting a kiss on her, which the redhead returned eagerly. For several long seconds, the two remained embraced passionately, before Wendy, her face flushed, and not just from the match, broke away.
“We should go get cleaned up. Don’t you want to watch the main event?”
“I’d rather do this,” Terrence replied, a mischevious grin on his face.
Wendy smiled, then smacked her fiancee playfully. “You know what I’m going to say to that, hon.”
Terrence smiled forlornly, rolling his eyes good naturedly. “Yeah yeah. Not til we’re married.”
“Oh, don’t look so glum. It’s not like we’re talking about three years here, just a few months. And then... “ she paused, smiling. “I promise you it’ll be worth it.”
“Well, we’re in Vegas,” Terrence grinned. “We could get it done tonight if you want.”
Wendy burst out laughing at her boyfriend’s suggestion. “Right. Because that’s how every little girl dreams of their wedding day. A post wrestling match trip through a drive-thru wedding chapel.”
“Well, how WOULD you like it?” Terrence replied, turning and putting his arm around Wendy, the two resuming their walk back to their locker rooms. “Might as well start planning.”
“I want it in a big cathedral, with all our friends there.” Wendy mused, “And a live band playing the reception, and the biggest cake you’d ever seen. And your Uncle Steve standing up with you, while my-” she cut off immediately, realizing what she had just said.
Terrence grimaced. He hadn’t hoped the subject of Wendy’s parents would be breached- not when everything had gone so damn well tonight, but such as it was. “I’m sorry.” He finally said.
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Wendy said softly. She paused for a few long seconds, then sighed. “Mother called the other day. Left a message inviting us to Thanksgiving.”
“Are you going to go?” Terrence asked.
“Of course not!” Wendy snorted, as if the idea of spending Thanksgiving with her parents was the worst thing imaginable. “They disowned me, Terrence! And now they’re getting a divorce? Because vows don’t mean anything to them? Those two idiots are tearing our family apart, and now they’re inviting me for a front row seat? To hell with them.”
Terrence waited patiently as Wendy ranted, before squeezing his girlfriend closer to him. “I think we should go.”
Wendy looked up at him, her mouth agape. “Are you out of your MIND?”
“Probably, but that’s not the point,” Terrence chuckled. “Look, hon. You know what your father is, and now your mom does too. He’s cheated on her. He’s a selfish prick who’s resorted to mental manipulation and intimidation to get what he wants. Can you blame her for wanting to leave him?”
“Then she should have known what he was like BEFORE she married him!” Wendy declared.
“That may be the most callous thing I’ve ever heard you say, hon,” Terrence replied, arching an eyebrow. “If we get married, and it turns out I really really enjoy hitting you... would you leave me?”
“Of course I would. But this is different. Daddy never abused-”
“The hell he didn’t,” Terrence said fiercely. “Mental abuse is still abuse, and it leaves its marks. Like maybe a complete unwillingness to forgive your mother even when she’s reaching out to you.”
“Why are we even having this conversation?” Wendy snapped, turning to walk away. “Tonight’s supposed to be a happy night.”
“I’m just saying, I don’t think this mess is her fault. And she’s not going to be around forever.” Terrence said quietly.
Wendy stopped, and turned around. She had never seen Terrence looking as serious as she did at that moment. Of course he’d know about that- he’d lost his parents at the age of five.
“I’m sorry,” Wendy said, quietly.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Terrence said. “I was too young to really have regrets about it. You’re not.”
Wendy felt deflated as she leaned against the wall, all the exuberance and adrenaline of the match having left her. She stared at her boots for a long while, before looking up at the man she loved. “I’ll call her tomorrow. But no promises.”
Terrence smiled softly as he reached out again to embrace her, and the two resumed their walk back to the locker rooms.
“No promises.”
=============================
Sunday November 24, 2002
City Streets- Augustus Briese’s Porsche 911
Indianapolis, Indiana
10:38 PM Local Time
Gayle Briese sat quietly in the passenger seat, waiting for her husband to finish dealing with the valet. She watched as Augustus pulled out his wallet, and hand the valet a couple bills, the expression on the man’s face suggesting that the tip he had just received was on the offensively pathetic side. Of course, he tried to keep both his dismay and disdain hidden, well enough so that Augustus simply turned his back on him, walked around the car, and got in.
“You shafted the boy,” Gayle commented as Gus started the engine, revving the 911 a couple of times before putting it into gear, and pulling away.
“I paid the boy for his services,” Gus replied, a low tone. “Why should I have to pay a man extra for simply doing his job?”
“Because that’s what polite people do!” Gayle snapped, then sighed. “You know damn well that people like him are paid very little base salary, and tips make up for the remainder.”
“Not my problem.” Gus replied callously. “I sure as hell didn’t design things that way...”
“And thank God you didn’t!” Gayle replied. “I’d hate to imagine what a world that actually bent to your whims would really be like.”
Gus’ eyes narrowed, and he glared daggers at Gayle, his mouth becoming thin. “It might not be as bad as you’d think.” He finally growled in his Irish brogue, but then his voice softened. “It’s been such a lovely evening, Gayle. It was a wonderful benefit night, and I’m glad that you still saw fit to attend. Must we ruin it now by fighting?”
“Just take me home,” Gayle whispered, as she looked out the window at the buildings as they passed through downtown. It had been a little over a month since that night in Chicago, when the last coverings of Gus’ facade had finally fell away, revealing the true man he was. She had found a condominium on the northern outskirts of town. She planned to stay there until the divorce was finalized, and then... who knew? Back to Ireland, most likely.
The land she never should have left, especially for the sake of this man.
Gus apparently wasn’t so eager to let the conversation die. “What are you doing on Thursday? The Rutherford’s have invited us to share Thanksgiving dinner with them.”
“I’m not interested.” Gayle replied icily. “I went with you tonight for the sake of appearances. That doesn’t mean I’m interested in not following through-”
“Of course,” Gus replied as he turned the car onto northbound I-65, accelerating rapidly up the on-ramp. “I just didn’t want you to spend Thanksgiving by yourself. Or are you going to be spending it with-”
“No, I’m not.” Gayle cut him off angrily. She took a deep breath trying to control her emotion. “She won’t answer my phone calls, or respond to me in any way. Our daughter-”
“She’s not our daughter anymore, apparently. She’s the one who walked out-”
“Shut up! Just shut up and drive me home!” Gayle snapped, wiping away a tear that spilled from her eye. She clutched the rosary around her neck, the same one Wendy had discarded on the floor that night in the hotel room.
“Do you blame me for that?” Gus chuckled, glancing sideways at her. When Gayle didn’t answer he continued. “Might I remind you that it was YOU who told her that we were going to disown her. Had you kept your mouth shut, especially at that moment...”
“I know!” Gayle breathed. “You don’t think I don’t? I’ll regret that to my dying day.”
“Why?” Gus asked. “We gave her a choice, Gayle. Her career or her family. She chose her career.”
“She shouldn’t have had to choose either way!” Gayle replied bitterly. “And she’ll have a new family soon enough.”
“With who, the Thompson boy?” Gus snorted. “She’ll be on the streets in five years, begging or whoring herself out because of that man. He’s no good, he’s never been good.”
“And how do you know that, Gus?” Gayle demanded. “Or do you just assume all men are like you?”
“Like me? You mean like the man who gave you everything you ever wanted in life? The man who took an overlooked struggling understudy and made her a star? That kind of man?”
“And how many corpses were burned to make this star shine, Gus?” Gayle snapped back. “How many sins were committed for a few short fleeting years of-”
“You didn’t complain at the time,” Gus replied. “It’s always funny how regret only comes after the lights go out and the music stops.” He glanced down at his dashboard. “Shit,” he growled, slowing the car down.
“What’s going on? Why are we pulling onto the shoulder?” Gayle asked.
“Something’s wrong with the engine.” Gus muttered, lightly breaking and coming to a stop right next to the milepost 120 sign.
“I don’t hear anything,” Gayle replied. “And isn’t this a new car?”
“Oh, so you’re an expert now?” Gus asked sarcastically as he shut off the car. “Have you taken to studying cars to be closer to your future son-in-law? Actually, that’d be a great way to stop the wedding. You always were good at fucking to get what you want.”
*SMACK*
Gayle was certainly glad Gus wasn’t driving anymore as her palm smashed into his face. Gus, for his part, merely glared back at her, before grinning svagely. “Do be careful, dear. In this day and age, it’s as easy for the husband to claim spousal abuse as it is for the wife.”
And with that, he popped the hood, and left the car.
Gayle sat steaming in the passenger seat, her arms folded across her chest. The only thing keeping her from getting out of the damned car and walking home herself was the, distance, the high heels, and the frigid weather. She had hoped that the threat of a divorce would have at least cowed Gus, to make him pretend to act reasonable. But he had almost seemed to take a delight in it, as if their pending seperation gave him carte blanche to be as insufferable a jackass as he could be.
She pulled out her phone, and scrolled through her address book, grimacing at the number of names she had to pass to get to the “W” area. Names she couldn’t give a flying damn about now, even if she had once. But there, towards the bottom, was Wendy’s entry.
It almost seemed fitting.
She pressed the enter button, and Wendy’s number came up. Still the 317 area code for Indianapolis, even though she had been living in New England for the better part of the last year. She moved her thumb over the green button, ready to press it and make the call. For several seconds, she hovered, before finally shutting her phone off.
She wouldn’t answer. Why would she? She hadn’t the last dozen times Gayle had tried to call her. Besides, she was in Vegas tonight, wrestling at that massive pay-per-view. Maybe she was out there right now, competing.
“Stay safe, love” Gayle whispered, putting her phone back into her purse. She wanted reconciliation with her daughter, and sooner rather than later. But it wouldn’t happen tonight. She hoped it’d happen sooner than later.
And what the hell was taking Gus?
She opened the passenger door of the Porsche, slipping outside. She gasped at how cold the night was- if it wasn’t below freezing, it would be by the time morning came around. Hardly the best weather to be stranded alongside the road. She walked up to the front of the car, looking at Gus, who had the hood up, and was gingerly poking at various cables and connections under the hood, a small light on the bottom of the bonnet providing illumination.
“Find anything?” Gayle asked, raising her voice to be heard over the passing traffic on the freeway.
“Nah,” Gus grunted. “I’m not a mechanic. Just thought maybe something got loose. Doesn’t look to be it.”
“Want me to call a tow truck?” Gayle asked, wishing she hadn’t left her purse in the car.
“Give me a few more minutes,” Gus grunted, turning back to the hood. Gayle watched as he poked and prodded some more, occasionally glancing out at the freeway to watch the car’s passing by.
“Gus, I’m going to call a tow truck. You can’t fix this.” Gayle finally said again after a few more minutes, turning to walk towards the passenger side.
“Gayle! Wait!”
Gayle stopped as Gus stood up, turning towards her. He walked towards her, and Gayle was surprised to see the expression on his face. It was one of solemnity, mixed with a bit of sadness.
“I’m sorry, Gayle. I know I made a lot of mistakes on a lot of things. I just wanted you to know that.”
Gayle stopped, and stared at the man she had been married to for over twenty years. It was an odd thing for him to say. Gus shrugged, and went back to his fruitless examination of the Porsche. Gayle shook her head, and turned to again retrieve her phone, but stopped as something caught her out of the corner of her eye. She turned, and was shocked to realize a third person was there!
Even in the darkness, she could tell he was a big man, at least a foot and a half taller than her. She turned to get a better look, but before she could, she was shoved, hard.
Everything happened in mere seconds. Gayle grunted in protest as she stumbled from the push, pinwheeling her arms to keep her balance, nearly falling in her high heels. For a fleeting moment, she saw that Gus had turned to look at her, that exact same expression on his face.
*HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*
Gayle spun just in time to see two headlights of a semi-truck, merely feet away, bearing down on her. She tried diving out of the way, but as she did, a strange rushing noise filled her eardrums, growing louder, and louder, as the headlights grew brighter.
Then, with the world engulfed in light, and the rushing sound deafening, something hard slammed into her side, and she knew no more.
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