Thursday October 25, 2012
The Nest- Computer Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
5:02 PM Local Time
“Do it again, Theresa. You’ve missed spots here, here and here.”
Wendy Briese frowned at her daughter as she pointed to the bookshelf, pointing out the splotches of dust that her daughter had missed. She watched as with a sigh of exasperation, Theresa moped up to the shelves, and began wiping at them again with the dustcloth in a haphazard manner.
“No, no, not like that,” Wendy admonished, kneeling down and taking the dustcloth from the six-year-old. “You want to do it systematically like this. This way you make sure you get it all.”
“This is so stupid,” Theresa whined, pouting as she watched her mom finish the shelf, then hand the cloth back to her. “You and Dad are rich. Why can’t you hire a maid to do this?”
“Because a little housework never killed anyone.” Wendy replied, smiling slightly as she watched her daughter do the next shelf, this time in the same systematic method that Wendy had shown her. “Besides, you should learn what it’s like to do something yourself.
Affluence is not an excuse to be lazy. Besides, I thought you’d WANT to be doing this.”
“You think I’d WANT to be dusting a bookshelf?” Theresa asked skeptically.
“You’re still grounded, young lady,” Wendy admonished her. “I promised you that you could still go to Rachel’s birthday party this weekend- if you helped me clean the house up. You still want to go to that, right?
Theresa frowned, then turned and began on the next shelf. “But I didn’t even do anything that bad.” She whined.
“You put hot sauce on Suzie Wormwood’s chicken sandwhich when she wasn’t looking, didn’t you? That was a pretty mean thing to do.”
“But she’s mean! And ugly! And stupid!” Theresa protested, stopping her wiping to shoot a baleful look at her mother. “Why can’t I just punch her in the face like YOU get to do to the mean women at work?”
Wendy couldn’t help but chuckle. “Because those are women who willingly participate in a sport where getting punched in the face is a part of it. Jenny’s a first-grader in your class. It’s not the same thing. And besides, it’s not like I can just walk up to them and punch them whenever I want. I have to do it in a match, and even then... they can punch me back too. There’s nothing wrong with standing up for youself, but you have to know where the line is. That’s why we have rules, to clearly dictate where those lines are, and if you break the rules, well...” she gestured to the bookshelf. “Then there are consequences.”
Theresa looked back at her mother, skeptically. “So what about those women who keep cheating, and getting away with it? Like that horrible Emma woman who hit you in the head?”
“They won’t get away with it,” Wendy said, some force entering her voice as she glanced back at her daughter. “Consequences aren’t always immediate, hon. Sometimes it can take days... month... even YEARS before they happen. But eventually, what goes around will come around. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned... it’s the longer you think you can get away with something, the worse it is when things finally catch up to you.”
“So you’re saying it’s GOOD that I got in trouble?” Theresa asked, obviously not happy with that thought.
“In a way, yes,” Wendy replied, smiling at the incredulous expression on her daughter’s face. Her voice softened. “Theresa, when we ground you, or punish you otherwise, it’s not because we’re trying to be mean, or malicious, or because we enjoy doing it. We do it because we want you to learn, and remember that what you did wasn’t okay. I mean... how would you feel if someone put hot sauce on YOUR food when you weren’t looking?”
“I’d be fine. I love hot sauce.” Theresa replied with a shrug.
“Okay... but what if it was something you DIDN’T like? What if someone put onions in your sandwich? You wouldn’t like that, would you?”
Theresa bit her lip, and shook her head, but Wendy wasn’t done. “And what if Suzie had been allergic to something in the hot sauce? It could have made her really, really sick.”
Theresa looked down. “I didn’t know.”
“Exactly. You didn’t know. That’s why it’s so important that you think about what could happen before you do it.”
Wendy knelt down, and took the dustcloth from her daughter. “As your parents, your father and I have two major jobs. That you grow up healthy, happy, and knowing that you are loved, and that you are prepared for the world when you come of age. And there’s three basic things. The first is that when you are an adult, you can do anything you want. And I mean ANYTHING.”
“Like... eat ice cream for breakfast? And stay up until midnight watching grown up movies?” Theresa asked, her face brightening.
Wendy laughed. “Well, you COULD. But that brings up the second truth. And that’s the fact that everything has a consequence. And I mean EVERYTHING. If you eat ice cream for breakfast, you’ll risk having a sugar crash early in the day. And if you stay up too late, you could end up being tired.”
“But not all consequences are bad, though.” Wendy continued, smiling. “Like, if you study hard, and do your homeworks, you’ll do well in school. And the consequence of helping me dust today is that you get to go to your friends birthday party. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I so,” Theresa said. “What’s the third thing?”
Wendy smiled.think “That your dad and I will always love you, no matter what. We may not like some of the things you do, but we will always love you.” And then she reached out and hugged her daughter. Theresa didn’t look like she had quite understood everything her mom had said, but she did return the embrace. Mother and daughter then turned back to the bookshelf, with Theresa finishing her dusting of the lower shelves, while Wendy continued to work on the upper shelves. After finishing, they began to replace the books.
“Is Aunt Margaret really going to stay for a month?” Theresa finally asked, after a while.
“She is.” Wendy replied with a smile. “And Cousin Liesel is coming too. You remember her from Christmas, right? And her kids?”
Theresa nodded, her face glum. “They’re not going to go to school with me, are they?”
“No, I’m pretty sure Liesel teaches them herself,” Wendy said gently, then turned stern. “Theresa, we live a life very, very different than they do. I think visiting us is going to be a entirely different experience for them, maybe even a shock. We need to do everything we can to make them feel welcome. Will you help me with that?”
Theresa thought for a second, and nodded. “But why are they even coming here if it’s so different?”
Wendy paused, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I... I don’t really know,” she said. It was a half-truth. She wasn’t certain, but she had a fairly good idea that they were visiting in the hopes of seeing Greta. The only problem was... Greta wasn’t quite where she was supposed to be. THAT worried her as much as anything. She had written a delicately
worded letter to Margaret that Greta had never arrived, that she’d never heard anything about Greta coming to visit in the first place. She couldn’t imagine what her Aunt would be feeling to find out that her daughter had just... disappeared.
“Mom?” Theresa’s voice jolted Wendy back to reality. Wendy stared at her daughter, blinking.
“Sorry, spaced out for a second,” Wendy apologized with a small smile. “Now, let’s hurry up and get these books back on the shelf. I need to have your father get the inflatable mattress out of the attic, and put in your room. Liesel’s kids are going to be sleeping there. And don’t give me that look!” She arched her eyebrow at another Theresa baleful glare. “At least you’re getting to sleep in your bed. Terrence and I are going to be down on the fold out couch.”
“So why should they even come here?” Theresa whined. “They’re going to mess everything up.”
“Because they’re family, and they wanted to come visit.” Wendy said crisply. “And, Theresa, other than you and Terrence, they’re the only family I have left.”
“What about that big ugly man who says he’s your brother?” Theresa asked.
Wendy sighed. “That’s a bit different, hon. Yuri... might be related to me by blood, but he doesn’t really want to be a member of our family. I think he’d much rather fight me.”
“So why don’t you fight him?” Theresa asked, then grinned. “I bet you could beat him up!”
“Perhaps,” Wendy smiled sadly. “But I don’t really ever want to beat him up. I just would rather I never have anything to do with him, at all.”
“How come?”
“Because I think if I were to ever face him in a match, the dislike we have for each other would come to the forefront, and things would get out of hand.” Wendy explained with a sigh.
“Like those matches you won’t let me watch?” Theresa asked.
“Maybe even worse than those,” Wendy said, although she wondered how any match could possibly be worse than that Hardcore War at Conviction. She ultimately decided she’d be better off not trying to find out. “I’m not one to back down from a challenge, you know that. But I really think it’d be better for all of us if Yuri and I never saw each other again. Does that make sense?”
Theresa shrugged, which Wendy assumed to mean “not really”, but since she didnt’ press the issue further, Wendy didnt’ say anything further. She wasn’t exactly comfortable talking about a prospective showdown with her brother. She didn’t like ducking challenges, or being afraid to face someone, but where the gargantuan Ukranian was concerned, it was better safe than sorry.
Theresa was sliding the last of her books onto the bottom shelf, and Wendy bent over to pick up her last stack to replace. “I’m sorry I put hot sauce in Suzie’s food,” Theresa finally said. “I just thought it’d be funny.”
“In some situations, it might have been. But Suzie’s not exactly your friend, the way you talk about her. So it just comes off as malicious.” Wendy shrugged. “Either way, it’s good that you’ve apologized to me, but I’m not the one who you should be apologizing too. You know who you SHOULD say you’re sorry too, right?”
Theresa looked like she’d rather be grounded for another six years. “Suzie,” she mumbled half-heartedly.
“Exactly,” Wendy said, giving her daughter a quick hug. “You don’t have to be her friend, but just saying you’re sorry for something, and meaning it, can go a long way. I won’t make you say you’re sorry, but promise me you’ll at least think about it, okay?”
“I will,” Theresa said, although Wendy had an idea she was just saying that to placate her. Even, so, she smiled and gave her daughter another hug. Both of them looked up as they heard the front door open, and heard Terrence calling up the stairs. Both Wendy and Theresa hurried towards the staircase coming down to meet the husband and father who had just walked in.
“How was the garage?” Wendy asked, referring to the garage Terrence co-owned with his uncle.
“Busy,” Terrence replied, then held out a small stack of envelopes towards her. “Got the mail, by the way.”
“Oh, thank you!” Wendy responded, grinning as she took the envelopes, and begun thumbing through them. “Cable bill, water bill... garbage bill... OH SHIT!”
She heard her daughter gasp, and her head snapped up to see Theresa staring at her, her hand over her mouth in shock. Even Terrence looked stunned.
“Everything okay?” Terrence asked quietly.
She could feel her face getting warm from embarrassment, but simply stuck out an envelope to her husband. Terrence took it, and whistled low.
The envelope was addressed to Aunt Margaret. Wendy had sent it nearly a month ago, since she was unable to call her to discuss the issue of Greta not appearing. The last thing she wanted was for Aunt Margaret and Uncle Karl to show up on their doorstep, fully expecting to see their daughter.
But with the letter sitting in Terrence’s hands, a giant “DELIVERY FAIL, RETURN TO SENDER” stamped on it, the chances of that scenario happening were almost certain at this point.
Terrence said it best when he looked up at Wendy, cringing slightly.
“Uh oh.”
===============================
Saturday October 27, 2012
Beaver Stadium- Field Level
University Park, Pennsylvania
10:31 AM Local Time
The population of University Park, Pennsylvania sits at a little less than thirteen thousand.
The city’s football stadium holds over eight times that amount.
The fourth largest stadium in the world, Beaver Stadium is the home of the Pennsylvania State Nittany Lions, one of the most well-known and established college football teams in the nation. While the facility normally holds well over a hundred thousand people, it’s hardly at its most full as the scene opens. Still, it’s a decent crowd sitting in the stands, maybe a couple hundred people. And they are an enthusiastic couple hundred. Why shouldn’t they be? After all, they’re here to see Wendy Briese!
The former No Surrender Champion is dressed for the nippy weather, wearing a dark blue pullover sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. In her gloved hands is a microphone, while a couple of speakers have been set up on either side of her, for the benefit of the audience. Wendy holds the microphone up to her mouth, and the cheering crowd quiets a tad, preparing to listen to the redhead speak.
“I don’t think it’s a secret that when it comes to College Football, I’m a bit of a Notre Dame fan...”
This is met with a series of jeers from the audience, although mostly good natured.
“But I’ve always admired Penn State. Your fans are classy and dedicated. And this is a university that has always, prided itself on doing things the right way. Of having honor, and integrity, and not putting what is easy above what is right. And earlier this year, when some of the most involved people with this team fell far short of that, I know it was devastating. You’ve all heard enough about it by now, I don’t need to explain what happened. But everyone knows that the wake of the tragedy here is going to affect this school, and this team for a long time to come.”
There’s some silence, as Wendy smiles grimly. This is a fairly sensitive subject she’s talking about here, and she’s obviously choosing the words carefully.
“When the NCAA judgement came down, everyone said that Penn State was ruined. Everyone said that you guys were dead, and could not recover, and would be mired in futility for the next generation. And then opening day came, and you lost to Ohio. That hole was dug deeper, and more dirt was thrown on this fanbase. Then the heartbreaker against Virginia, and people were shouting it from the rooftops. Penn State football was DEAD. And it would be years until life was brought back into it. But did you guys roll over and give up?”
A loud, resounding “NO” echoes from the fanbase and Wendy shakes her head.
“Of course you didn’t! You guys didn’t give up! You came back, and you beat Navy. And then you beat Temple. Then Illinois. Then Northwestern. Then Iowa. And tonight, when you guys beat Ohio State right here on this very field, I don’t think anyone out there is going to deny that the Penn State Nittany Lions are alive and well!”
The crowd pops at Wendy’s proclomation. Wendy stand patiently, letting the cheering die down before continuing.
“I suppose most of you have wondered what this has to do with wrestling. Well, about a month ago, here was a Pay-Per-View called Sin and Sacrifice. And there was a War Games match on that show, between the Power Trip and the Mackenzie Mafia. Most of you knew what happened. Emma MacNamara, one of the so-called leaders of the Mafia, betrayed the team, hit me over the head with a pipe, and got the win. The Power Trip won. Ryan MacKenzie was so upset by this, he acquiesced to Samantha Star, and is now selling his shares in the company because he wants out. Our other supposed leader, Stacey Mackenzie, apparently decided to take a holiday in Samantha Star’s mansion. The Mackenzie Mafia, as my opponent tonight, Kaitlynn Stryfe, is so happy to proclaim, is DEAD.”
“Just one teensy little problem: there were five members of the Mackenzie Mafia that night. And I don’t think three of them were given any say in the matter. And just like the Nittany Lions did, we WILL, and in fact already HAVE, risen back from the dead, stronger than ever!”
Wendy smiles a little bit as the crowd gives a small pop.
“Emma MacNamara may have subscribed to the “if you can’t beat them, then join them” philosophy. Stacey Mackenzie may be off doing whatever Stacey Mackenzie wants. Ryan Mackenzie may have cut his losses and ran. But Cara Stone, Eileen Amaro, and Wendy Briese haven’t. We’re still here. We’re still strong. And we’re still opposing the Power Trip, as Kitty Stryfe certainly found out to her chagrin last Thursday night!”
The crowd cheers, and Wendy grins, feeding off the energy of her fans.
“The Mackenzie Mafia is dead in name only. The spirit lives on, and it’s getting stronger than ever. It lives in Cara. It lives in Eileen. It lives in Scarlett, who’s had enough of Samantha Star sticking her nose in her matches. It lives in every woman in the locker room who’s still not about to bow their head to our selfish and shortsighted owner. And yes, Ms. Star, it lives in me as well.”
“And only the Power Trip thinks that our fight is futile. Are we going to run Samantha Star from the company? Of course not! Are we even going to take her decision making capacity from her hands, no matter how much that would benefit the company? Again, of course not. But until Ms. Star realizes that there’s more to this company than the select few that she’s handpicked, that the world does not revolve around her, and that all the money in the world does change the fact that FFW is here because of the fans, not the other way around, then we WILL continue to fight. And I don’t care if that takes weeks, months, years, or even longer than my career could ever hope to last, we WILL NOT STOP!”
Another pop, and Wendy takes a deep breath, her exhales hanging in clouds in the chilly air.
“We were knocked down at Sin & Sacrifice, but we are getting back up. And we are going to do our parts. Eileen and Cara already did theirs last week. This time, it’s my turn, and my obligation is simple- I’m going to make sure that NO member of the Power Trip is going to win the Femme For All. Once Scarlett beats Isabella at Anarchy, and rips the title from her, and no Power Trip member coming out of this tournament to challenge her, THAT’S IT! The days of the Power Trip manipulating officials, the odds, or anything else they can think of to get out of actually having to EARN the FFW Championship will be OVER!”
“Kitty doesn’t like that thought, of course. It’s been more than a year since Kitty held the FFW Championship. I’m sure she doesn’t feel she held it long enough. I’m sure she’s still stinging in pride over the fact that she couldn’t beat Katherine Stryfe, either to retain the belt, or reclaim it in the rematch. I’m sure she’s still burning over the fact that she couldn’t beat Scarlett at Anarchy, or again at Unstoppable, when the match was SET UP for a member of the Power Trip to walk out with that belt. And now she’s in the Femme For All. She doesn’t have to be a team player here. She just has to sit back, relax and let the magic machine that’s the Power Trip synergy glide her to Anarchy, and beyond as the number one contender, to hopefully set up Samantha’s dream match- Isabella Pazzini and her for the FFW Championship.”
The crowd boos at that thought, and even Wendy looks pretty displeased.
“But she has me standing in her way, and she knows if there’s anyone in this tournament who can derail her- it is me. What happened on St. Patrick’s day in my hometown probably still burns brightly in her mind. The first time we faced, she got me, I’ll give her that, but I vowed it wouldn’t happen again, and it didn’t. I avenged that loss with flying colors, and finally picked up a win over a former FFW Champion. As far as tonight goes, well, I’ve already taken one rubber match in the last couple of months, and there’s nothing that says tonight I can’t take another. And Kitty knows that. Even right now, she’s probably sitting on her laptop, typing snarky comments into her blog to make her feel better. I’m sure there’s going to be something along the lines of how I’m nothing more than an insignificant girl scout, or whatever. It’s pretty much the same old same old with her. Kitty snipes with some condescending remark, smirks as if that somehow makes her special, and the rest of us roll our eyes.”
Wendy demonstrates by rolling her own eyes, and the crowd laughs.
“We roll our eyes because we know the truth. Kaitlynn Stryfe is a good wrestler, a great wrestler even, but she isn’t the silky smooth psychological master she so desperately wants us to believe she is. She’s not in control, she’s not a manipulator, she just wants to pretend to be. Watching her the moment she loses control of a situation- which happens a lot more often than you’d want to think- and we see what she is for real, an imbalanced narcissistic woman who can’t understand why the rest of us don’t just roll over on our backs in submission for her.”
“I’m sure she remembers the first time we met, well over a year ago. She was preparing to enter the Elimination Chamber at Unstoppable, I was in the midst of the first Chase for the Crown. And I mentioned that I’d love to be in her spot, competing for the FFW Championship. Do you remember how she reacted to that? That tantrum she threw because she took my words out of context to think that I was actively trying to take her spot in that match? Was there ever a more spectacular meltdown over a misunderstanding?”
“Well, Kitty, this time, I want there to be no misunderstanding. I’m just going to say it loud and clear. Tonight, I’m taking your spot. Tonight, I’m going to advance in the Femme For All Tourament- and you are going to be OUT!”
The crowd pops at that. Wendy smiles, and looks around, taking a few deep breaths. Her face is flushed with anticipation.
“Colleen once called me Pollyanna, mockingly comparing me to a girl who always looked on the bright side of life. Well, maybe she’s more right than she thought. Because when I lost to Serafina last month, it was crushing, and shaming, and a considerable blow to my ego, which is very real and does exist, contrary to what certain individuals might think.”
Wendy grins and shrugs, as several members of the crowd laugh.
“But that enabled me to be in here. Last year, I DESPERATELY wanted to be in the Femme For All, and I had a chance, but I blew it against Crystal Hilton in a qualifying match. This year, I’m in, and by luck of the draw, I’m one of the last five women remaining. I have a very real, very clear chance to walk out of Anarchy the number one contender to the FFW Championship, and all I have to do is reach out and grab it. And you can call this arrogance, or pride, or whatever, but there is NOTHING and NO ONE that can stop me if I wrestle the way I know I’m able to! Not Valerie. Not Camilla. Not Colleen. And especially NOT KAITLYNN STRYFE!”
“Kitty, you might think tonight is about you! You might think this is merely a stepping stone to your rematch with Valerie, but you could NOT be more wrong! You are in for the fight of your life tonight, and when it’s all said and done, it won’t be you facing Valerie in the semifinals. Call this Wendy’s bounceback. Call it payback from War Games. Call it a changing of the guard. Call it whatever you want. But for me? This only amounts to one thing.”
Wendy pauses, and looks around at the audience.
“Me reaching my full potential.”
Wendy tosses the microphone to a nearby technician, and waves at the cheering crowd, her breath still hanging in the air as her eyes shine with excitement. And it’s with her shaking the hands of some of the people that came out to meet her that the scene fades.
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