From the private journal of Wendy Briese
5-26-13
So here I am, about twenty hours since Relentless went off the air, and I’m still trying to make sense of what had happened.
I had just gotten backstage after beating Jodie, was going through my normal cooldown stretches, when a stagehand knocked on the door and asked me if I was interested in providing color for the FFW Championship match. I accepted, after being assured I’d have some time to freshen myself up so I didn’t look like a sweaty mess on camera.
Boy, was I glad I did!
I can’t help but think back to Terrence’s favorite movie, Speed. I remember a scene early in the film, where the two main characters, Jack and Harry, are inspecting an elevator that has been rigged with a bomb. While waiting for their orders to come down, Harry gives Jack a ‘pop quiz’- a gunman is using a hostage for cover, and is almost to a plane, what does he do? Jack’s response is simple... “shoot the hostage”. Wound them, and they’re out of the picture, leaving the real bad guy completely exposed. At the bare basics- it’s doing something inherently wrong, even unthinkable, to keep something even worse from happening.
Saturday night, I shot the hostage. In the most figurative sense.
Even though I never touched Isabella, I interfered in that match. Even though I had no intention of demeaning Val’s victory, I tainted it, even if only slightly. And even though I know both of those go against my very principles, I know I did the right thing.
I couldn’t let another good woman and deserving wrestler get screwed. It should never have happened to Scarlett, or Camilla, or Colleen. It had to stop somewhere, and I was in a position to do something about it, and I know I’ll sleep far better at night now than if I had sat there and allowed injustice to be done.
But I also known that every action has its consequences, I will have to face mine. Wherever I stood on Isabella’s list before the show, I’m near the top of it now, and that tends to be bad for people’s health. So be it.
In Speed, Harry’s pop quiz plays out in time, when the villian captures him, and is using him for a shield, and Jack is forced to shoot his own partner. It works- with Harry wounded, he’s no longer effective, and the bad guy is forced to abandon him, and make a break for it. But he survives, and not long after, Jack receives a phone call from the bad guy, who’s peeved about being thwarted, and the main storyline of the movie is set up, as he’s forced to play the villain’s game on his terms.
Sooner or later, I know my own phone call will be coming from a very peeved Isabella Pazzini.
Very well. Let the games begin.
=====================
Tuesday May 28, 2013
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
1:45 PM Local Time
“Please don’t... no... stop... don’t go... WHY ARE YOU GOING UP THE GODDAMN TURNBUCKLE!!”
Even though the tape of the match was two and a half days old, Daniel Pollaski was acting like he was watching it live, howling at the television as if he had seen pro-wrestling’s equivalent to invading Russia in the winter. From beside him, Wendy couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She pretty much realized her mistake in the matter immediately, and she didn’t really feel like salt getting rubbed in the wound.
But Pollaski had paused the video, and was looking at her. “So why the hell did you go up the damn turnbuckle?”
“I was trying to end the match.” Wendy said simply, sighing.
“Well, good job! You damn near did!”
Wendy acknowledged the blow with a chagrined nod. “I thought I might have a chance for the Emerald Cyclone... and then...”
To finish her sentence Pollaski pressed play again, and the two watched as Jodie got to her feet, freezing with her back to Wendy. Pollaski paused it again. “And then, look! Jodie’s got the telegraph so fucking on, she’s picking up messages from the Carpathia. So you decide to...”
“I thought I could still hit the Vortexinator, if I could time it right.”
“So you forced a finisher in a completely high risk situation. Wendy, what happens when a quarterback forces a pass?”
Wendy didn’t even bother to answer, just watched sheepishly as her manager pressed play on the DVR again.
“BOOM! INTERCEPTED!” Pollaski cried, impersonating John Madden. “You’re lucky this one wasn’t returned for a touchdown.” he finished as Jodie came off the ropes and dropkicked Wendy in the face.
Wendy grimaced again, shaking her head. It was easy enough to pick it apart NOW, sitting on a couch looking with the benefit of hindsight, but at the time, she had wanted to end the match with a big explanation point, given that she was hoping to use it to send a message to the Power Trip. Instead, she had almost let a careless mistake do her in, just like it had with Serafina...
“Well,” Pollaski sighed, resigned. “At least you were able to stop THAT from happening.” He pointed at the screen, where Wendy was shoving Jodie away after her attempt at a claw.
“What can I say?” Wendy replied with a small smile. “I’m quite adverse to the idea of other people sticking their appendages down my throat.”
“Ain’t THAT the truth” came a voice behind them, and both Pollaski and Wendy turned to watch Terrence striding into the room, chuckling as if he had just made an epic joke.
The subtext wasn’t exactly lost on Wendy, who began to blush. “Thank you, Terrence,” she snapped, her voice dripping with acidic sarcasm.
Terrence chuckled again, and sat down next to his irritated wife, putting his arm around her. “Ah, but you sure do look cute when you’re breaking another girl in half,” he said, looking at the television, where Wendy had Jodie firmly in the Banshee.
Wendy’s blush deepened, and again she said, “Thank you, Terrence,” although now considerably more warm and less sarcastic.
The three watched in silence for several seconds as Jodie continued to fruitlessly fight in the hold, finally succombing and tapping out to end the match. Pollaski shut the television off, and turned to look over at Terrence.
“So, how’d it go at the track?”
Almost immediately, Wendy could tell that the answer was ‘not well’ by the helpless shrug and chuckle her husband gave. She reached out and grabbed her husband’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“I sure wish I’d known you could have a property inspected BEFORE you bought it..” Terrence griped glumly.
Wendy released her hand, and stared at her husband incredulously. “You DIDN’T know that?”
Pollaski chuckled. “Yeah, dude. That’s like Real Estate 101.”
“Well, how the hell am I supposed to know these things!” Terrence protested defensively, holding his hands out. “I’ve never done real estate before..”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have then bought real estate if you didn’t know what you were doing...” Wendy said quietly. “Besides, we bought this house together. You don’t remember that we had it inspected first?”
“How the hell am I supposed to remember something that happened seven and a half years ago?” Terrence said, shaking his head. “At least your stupid shed got a glowing review.”
Wendy felt a little mollified by that. All the shed held now was her newly purchased ring, along with crashmats surrounding it, but Wendy had already spent several hours trying to plan out what she wanted her own gym to end up looking like. Heck, she was finding that even just speculating about it was pretty fun.
But she still felt a little bad for her husband, who obviously wasn’t having ANY fun with the situation. He was chewing on his lip, staring at the now-off television. “What we need,” he began slowly, “is someone who knows what they’re doing. Someone who can figure out what these damn inspection reports even MEAN, and how to go about fixing them, and making this place SERVICEABLE.”
“You mean like a property manager,” Wendy put in.
“Yeah!” Terrence said, catching onto the word. “A property man...a....ger.” His voice trailed off, and he was staring directly at Pollaski.
“What, dude?”
“You’re a manager.” Beside her husband, Wendy facepalmed.
“A WRESTLING manager,” Pollaski retorted. “And don’t you DARE even say that-”
“Well, they can’t be THAT different.” Terrence said. “I mean, you made people actually give a shit about DEAS, for crying out loud. How hard could THIS be?”
“Very, considering I knew all along how I could make Bryan Deas relevant. I have ZERO idea on how to restore a race track. That’s because the two things are VERY different.”
“Well, maybe if you..”
“Dude, no.”
“Well, dammit,” Terrence growled, giving his former manager an annoyed look. “I’m going to have to FIND someone.”
Wendy smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something. There’s plenty of people out there who specialize in taking uninhabitable properties, and fixing them up to their owner’s desires.”
“Yeah, I know.” Terrence said with a sigh. “But they’re all going to be so damn EXPENSIVE. Besides, we’ll need someone for the long term, I think. Someone who can not only get the place FIXED up, but then also know what needs to be done to maintain it. I mean, they dont have to do the work themselves, just COORDINATE the damn thing so I can have this baby up and running by next year.”
“I can help with the search if you want,” Pollaski volunteered with a shrug. “I might not know fixer-upping too good, but I know people, and I can sense bullshit”
Remarkable, considering how much time he spent smelling his own, Wendy thought, but remained silent. A thought was forming in her mind, one of those fluttery types that seems to dart around the brain, yet can never be fully grasped and comprehended.
Terrence was much more satisfied with Pollaski’s offer. “Fine by me, dude. I could use your help, if you’ve got the time. Know where we can get a list of people who have had experience in managing race tracks?”
“I’d expand beyond that, dude,” Pollaski said, rubbing his chin. “Any kind of property management experience would probably be good, but especially things like stadiums, or parks, or even apartments, or hotels, or skyscrap-”
“I got it!”
Both Terrence and Pollaski started, surprised by Wendy’s sudden outburst. When both men looked over to her, she was grinning widely. “You have an idea, Wendy?” Terrence asked mildly.
“I do! Pollaski, book me a flight to New York on Monday, and an overnight stay, okay? I’ll fly back early Tuesday morning.”
“But... aren’t you guys going to be up in Minnesota that week?” Pollaski asked, skeptical.
“So book my flight to and from the Twin Cities,” Wendy said. When she noticed her husband looking slightly annoyed, she sighed. “It’ll only be for a day, Terry. You can take Theresa fishing on Monday. You know I’m not a big fan of fishing...”
“But... WHY?” Terrence asked. “Why New York all of a sudden.”
Wendy’s grin broadened, almost to the point of mischevious. “Because I think I know the perfect person for the job.”
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