Monday July 29, 2013
Grand Nugget- Poker Room
Atlantic City, New Jersey
3:10 PM Local Time
Wendy Briese sighed as she glanced at her watch. Nearly two hours she'd sat here, and still felt no closer to her goal than when she had sat back down. Foster still sat a couple of places away, his face ruddy from imbibed drink, his mustache quivering with glee everytime he scooped up some poor sap's chip total.
And there had been many, many poor saps, men (and some women) with far too much confidence and aggression and far too little common sense, making decisions based on greed that she felt put her initial playing to shame. To her annoyance, Pollaski never slapped any of THEM, although in a couple of instances she had the feeling he really wanted to.
Things had gone the opposite for her- after getting a quick crash course on which starting hands were actually worth playing, Wendy had settled into a successful groove. Her natural cautiousness proved to be a virtue, and she had managed to stop herself several times from making bets that would prove to be fatal. In the contrary, she had amassed a small fortune through her conservative play, and now sat with nearly nine thousand chips in front of her- more than double what she had first played.
But the one that mattered most to her remained out of reach, firmly in DePeeple’s hands. She had managed to catch onto a pattern fairly quickly- the man only bet his “lucky chip” when calling an all-in wager. But everytime she had gone all-in, he’d folded, and she’d been left just to pick up the blinds and early wagers.
Wendy broke away from her thoughts to look at her next hand of cards. A six of clubs and a seven of diamonds. With a sigh, she pushed the cards into the center of the table, face down. The worst part about poker was the waiting. With so few hands evidently playable, you could go for long stretches simply folding the moment you looked at your hand. It got pretty boring, and made her impatient. But she knew that impatience was death in poker, and kept grinding away, picking her spots, and more or less coming off the better for it, even if her ultimate goal eluded her.
She tried hard not to think about how it alluded to her own career in FFW. She was winning a lot- especially small and medium pots, and even a couple big ones. She’d also taken a few disappointing losses. But ultimately, even after all this time, the ultimate goal still alluded her. Had Pollaski intended this, to get her thinking about things? She glanced back at her manager, who was sitting in a chair behind her, sipping on what was probably his twenty-fifth Diet Pepsi. At least that stupid cigar was not in his mouth anymore, instead tucked into the breast pocket on his shirt.
The hand was mercifully a quick one, and soon another pair of cards was in front of it. An Ace of hearts.... and an ace of diamonds! Wendy sat up a little straighter- she knew it was a tell, but she doubted it revealed much. After all, simply playing your hand was somewhat of a tell, right?
She thought about going all-in again, but something stopped her. Every time she’d done that, everyone, including DePeeple, folded. If she wanted to get that chip, she needed to make him call it. Being excited and aggressive was a dead giveaway for her. She had to act calm, and be her normal, more cautious self.
“Raise to $500,” Wendy said quietly, sliding a small stack of chips in front of her. She bit her lip as most of the rest of the table folded, except for DePeeple. The South African stared at her for a long time, chewing on his lip, before pushing his own small stack in.
“Call.”
The flop came down- a Queen of Spades, a King of Diamonds, and... an Ace of Clubs! Wendy tried to keep her face impassive. She had three of a kind, and although there was a definite straight draw on the table, the likelihood that Foster was sitting on a jack and a ten were low. Still, cautious was the word of the day, right? She tapped her hand on the felt table twice, signifying a check- passing play to her opponent without making a bet.
“$1,000” the South African said, sliding more chips in. Wendy glanced at him. There was a definite smugness to him, and for a second she balked. But an overwhelming feeling was telling her she had the better hand.
“Call,” she responded.
The fourth card was flipped over, and Wendy had to fight down the urge to leap up and scream in excitement. It was the Ace of Spades! She had a four of a kind!
She tried to keep her face impassive, maybe even disappointed. Maybe, with luck, DePeeple would think she was missing her own straight draw. Her mind racing, she checked again. Bite the bait, you big ugly fish... just bite it...
“$5,000” Foster announced, adding more chips to the pot, his monocole glinting as he turned to glare at her. She fought down the urge to laugh. If he was trying to intimidate her, it was failing miserably.
“All-In.” She said, as cool as she could. She knew he would call this time- simply calling the bet would have taken most of her remaining chips. But she had the lure in the sharks mouth, and now she was setting the hook.
She nearly whooped as the chip in his hand pattered onto the table, and the remaining balance was pushed forward. She stood up, flipping her cards over, and the rest of the table gasped as they saw her hand. Foster DePeeple flipped his card over too, and Wendy grinned- a ten and a king, both spades. Her four of a kind absolutely trounced his pair of kings!
“Nice going,” Pollaski breathed from behind her. She turned around, and flashed him a smile. Mission complete! And she’d be taking home twenty thousand dollars to boot!
The fifth card was turned over... a jack of spades. Gasps and applause broke out throughout the bystanders, and Wendy began to lean forward to gather up her chips, but stopped suddenly at Pollaski’s groan from behind her.
“Oh, fuck me...” Pollaski grumbled.
She glanced over at Foster’s cards again, then to the common hand, and her heart sank. A four of a kind was unbeatable...
To anything but a royal flush, that is.
That insufferable smirk on his face, Foster plucked up that chip yet again into his hand, then grinned as the pot- and all nine thousand of her chips, were shoved over to join his stack. “But...” she said helplessly, as Foster sat back down, that blue chip still turning over in his hand.
“Alright, I think that’s good enough,” Pollaski said gently, grabbing Wendy’s arm and gently leading her away from the table. “Tough break, kid.”
“But...” Wendy repeated, feeling her throat tighten in disppointment.
“Yeah, that happens sometimes. And it’s a downright bitch every time,” Pollaski consoled. “Still, you did what I wanted, so we’ll give you a passing grade here.”
“But...” Wendy couldn’t even bring herself to turn away from the table, even after being guided out of the room and out of sight of the table. “I didn’t win...”
Pollaski led her back into the rows of slot machines, and sat her down on one of the stools sitting down in adjacent one, and spinning to face her. “So,” he said, grinning at the distraught woman. “What did we learn?”
Wendy seemed to snap out of her daze, blinking at her manager. “Um...” she said, biting her lip. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I guess there were some similiarities between playing and my career. I won some hands, even some big hands, but I couldn’t figure out how to get a good crack at the ultimate prize.”
“You did in the end,” Pollaski pointed out.
“And didn’t get it.” Wendy groaned. “Does that mean I’m not going to...”
“Don’t be an idiot.” Pollaski snapped. “One card in forty-three could have saved his ass, and he just so happened to be lucky enough to get it. I’d bet you’d kill to be able to face the FFW Champion with a 98% success rate. And besides, wrestling’s a lot like Poker- you can do everything right, and still get nipped out by unfortunate circumstances.”
“Like what happened to Colleen,” Wendy sighed.
“Pretty much,” Pollaski agreed. “So here’s the question for you... who told you slowplaying your hand like that was going to work?”
Except it didn’t work, Wendy wanted to say, but she was too tired to argue the point. “No one really,” she said. “I just figured that since I got excited and aggressive every other time I went all-in, maybe if I-”
“Was yourself?” Pollaski pointed out. “You are, after all, a pretty conservative, cautious person,” he grinned, “at least as far as professional wrestlers go. But yeah, notice how well just being Wendy Briese worked out.”
Wendy snorted. “So you’re saying that the best way I can get the shot is to just be myself.”
“Yup, and I know what you’re going to say next- it didn’t work so well at the other companies. You never were as efficient in NGWA and CCW as you are now, and PWX... well, they dropped the ball on a lot of things. You were just one of the bigger balls.” He snickered as Wendy raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have that problem here. As long as Cody Kincaid is on staff, you have zero danger of being overlooked. That guy knows your value.”
“I suppose your right.” Wendy smiled. “So it’s crossing the fingers, after all.”
“Sure. BUt also think back to the game. The other important part is... you knew WHEN and HOW to make your move, and you didn’t need anyone else to tell you. Transcribe that to reality.”
“I did it, because I had just about the best hand there is.” Wendy said, chewing her lip. “I have a pretty good hand now... but I can make it better.”
“There ya go,” Pollaski said, clapping Wendy on the shoulder. “You got Emma Mac coming up- and SHE’S what you truly need to be worried about. All this title crap... it’ll sort itself out afterwards in one way or another. Focus on Emma. It’s a long time coming between the two of you, and don’t worry about any of the distractions. When you’re focused, determined, and much more importantly... yourself, you don’t lose.”
“At least ninety-eight percent of the time,” Wendy grinned. “Thanks Dan. It was an... interesting way to get the point across, but I’m glad we talked.
“It’s why they pay me the big bucks,” Pollaski grinned, tapping a small bag at his side that still carried his own poker chips. “Now get out of here, and enjoy the rest of the day, aight? We’ll have plenty of work to do on the morrow.”
“Alright, Dan. Take care,” Wendy said, squeezing her manager’s shoulder and standing up. With a last wave, she turned and headed towards the exit of the casino.
Pollaski waited a full minute and change to make sure she was gone, then pulled out his phone, quickly dialing it, and putting it to his ear, chuckling as he waited for an answer.
“Yeah, it’s me. She’s on her way back to you right now. How was bungee jumping with Theresa? Awesome! Get a pic? Yeah, I’ll see it tonight. Oh yeah, she totally would have flipped. No problem, man. Glad I could distract her for you. What? Oh yeah, she lost. Four thousand. HA! I guess she won’t be giving you any lectures on wasting money in the near future, eh? Ah, consider it just an added favor. See ya tonight, dude. Yeah. Have fun. Bye.”
Pollaski hung up, and leaned against the slot machine, sticking his unlit cigar back into his mouth as he surveyed the goings on of the casino. He sighed contentedly as he patted the pile of chips in the bag next to him.
Sometimes, it was very very good to be Daniel Pollaski.
==============
Saturday August 10
MEO Arena- Auxillary Production Room
Lisbon, Portugal
5:11 PM Local Time
Before we fade in, a small graphic appears on the screen, saying:
APRIL 18, 2013
And then we fade into a moment from Velocity, ironically, on April 18, 2013.
Allison: Given the issue between Undine and Kate already, I’m sure you aren’t alone in that regard. Another return we saw at Chaos Theory happened in Ten Femme Chaos, when we saw the arrival of Wendy Briese. And also the surprising actions from Scarlett and Kelly. I’d like to get your thoughts on Wendy’s return, and being as close to the Kincaid family as you are, did what Scarlett and Kelly allow to happen surprise you?
Emma thinks for a moment, then shakes her head a little.
Emma: It should, but it doesn’t. Kelly really only looks like she’s been influenced by Christian to stop playing the good girl card, and Scarlett? Let’s be fair here, she’s been taking the golddigger or sleeping her way to the top crap for so long it’s really not a shock she finally said “screw this” and walked away.
“Sometimes, omission can speak volumes.”
Given that it’s about 100 degrees (F!) in Lisbon today, and sunny as hell, Wendy’s inside today, in a small studio with the FFW banner hanging behind her. Evidently she’s not exactly in the mood to risk sunburn right before going toe to toe with one of the hardest hitters in the company.
Anyways, Wendy’s dressed fairly casually tonight, wearing a pair of capri-cut jeans, as well as one of the new Eileen Amaro Evolution Championship T-shirts. Despite her fairly casual dress, she is formally in a bad mood, trying to keep her voice light, at least in somewhat of a sardonic matter. It’s not working so well.
“The entire time I was out injured, Emma MacNamara LOVED to take potshots at me. My four title reigns? The low points in company history. My injury? I had it coming, the piece of filth that I am. Over and over, she just loved taking these little digs at me, knowing full well that I was sitting at home on my couch, unable to so much as train, let alone compete. Real brave of you, Emma.”
“And then at Chaos Theory, I come running down the ramp to help out against a five on three beatdown, and send all your friends fleeing to the back with their tails between their legs. Allison Marx asks you point blank a couple weeks later your opinion on a girl coming back who you spent MONTHS taking potshots at during her injury, and it’s let’s talk about Kelly and Scarlett and move on, thank you very much. In fact, you haven’t talked about me much at all since my name reappeared on the roster page.
“Sad, Emma. For all the issue’s I’ve had with you, all the problems we’ve had, I never once figured you to be someone to hold her tongue.”
Wendy snorts, and shrugs.
“But you have to have known this was coming sooner or later! You don’t get to whack your own teammate over the head with a lead pipe and leave them a bloody mess in the middle of the ring on live national television, and not expect there to be some sort of consequence. I was hoping for a... pardon the pun... crack at you a lot quicker than this, but of course, there were all kinds of issues. Femme For All, injuries and the like.”
“By the time I came back, I was pretty much fed up with the whole lot of you that I wanted to take every single one of you on, bit by bit, and it didn’t matter a darn which one of you I started with. So I made that open challenge, willing to take anyone in the Power Trip offered, but deep down, I was kind of hoping it’d be you to be shoved forward.”
Evidently, whatever amity Wendy’s achieved with Isabella in the wake of Unstoppable isn’t carrying over to her former stablemates.
“Of course, you had that parking lot brawl two weeks prior, and there wasn’t much of a chance that you’d be patched up enough to be ready to compete at Relentless. But I pretty much knew that you wouldn’t be stepping forward the moment you shoved your head in the sand and evaded Allison’s question.”
“Well, you can’t hide from your problems forever, Emma. And I’d say an irritated housewife from Indianapolis with a chip on her shoulder can be a very, VERY big problem. So this is it- no more delays. Tonight, I have you all in that ring to myself, one on one, and you’ll be getting everything I have. And since I have your attention now, I might as well give something else- a piece of my mind. Because I’ve been waiting a little over ten months to say what I’m about to.”
A small smile from Wendy, and a deep breath.
“I’ve been trying to come up with a good adjective to describe you. Evil’s too harsh- you’re really not evil, despite some of the horrible things you’ve done. But misguided is too soft- you know full well what you’re doing is wrong. What you are Emma, is backwards. Completely backwards, right up to the fact that you’re okay with it... even proud of it!”
“You’ve said and done some pretty horrible things over the past few months, Emma. To me. To Cara. To Kate. To Misty. The list goes on, and you don’t bat an eyelash. And yet, I can’t help but think about to the last day of last September, when you threw a Twitter Tantrum for over a FULL HOUR because I said something so horrible, so low, that you couldn’t believe it. Wendy Briese insulted your parenting! Wendy Briese brought your kids into this! Wendy Briese crossed the line! Wendy Briese is so goshdarn JUDGEMENTAL!”
Wendy scoffs, and rolls her eyes, clearly irritated almost to the point of amusement.
“Wendy Briese actually simply pointed out that betraying your team mates in the middle of a competition is setting a pretty bad example, and that you wouldn’t be so callously dismissive if the same thing happened to you or your family. The mere fact that such a simple common sense statement serves as a berserk button for you is backwards.”
“You might have noticed, Emma, that I see a lot of things I don’t quite agree with, that I don’t make a fuss about. I’m not out to destroy everyone who doesn’t measure up to my expectations, because that would be everyone including myself. I dont’ have the time or the inclination to go around being a Knight Templar, and even i I did, I’m well aware of what an unbearable DRAG I’d become around my friends.”
“But there’s a line, Emma, and if you’re too backwards to even see it when you’re walking, well, maybe you should consider turning around. It’s not going to be crossed. Not with me, and not with my friends. YOu crossed that line at Sin & Sacrifice, and you’ve shown no inclination to go back. Just because it took this long for me to catch up with you... that doesnt’ dim any of the memories in my mind.
“Neither does the fact that it’s completely rich of you to throw all your toys out of the pram becasue someone else JUDGED you, when you are the first person in this whole COMPANY to dump on ANYONE for doing something you don’t like. Kate, Cara, Serafina, myself, the list goes ON, but the moment it turns around back on you its a simple YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! I KNOW I’M NOT A GOOD PERSON AND SO I’M LEAST I’M NOT A HYPOCRITE!”
Another eyeroll from Wendy, followed by a single sarcastic chuckle, and another shake of her head.
“No, Emma, you’re so very wrong. So very backwards. I’m the one you clubbed with a lead pipe at Sin & Sacrifice. I’m the one you left lying in a puddle of blood. I have EVERY RIGHT IN THE WORLD to call you out on it. And if you don’t like it, then maybe you shouldn’t have DONE IT.”
“Imperfection does not absolve you or excuse you, no matter how many times you praise it as a virtue. And the mere fact that you have to resort to semantics and literalism and technicalities to justify yourself PROVES how backwards you really are. ‘Lead pipes are allowed in War Games and I was on the other team too, and so it’s all okay.’ THE HELL IT IS!”
Wendy pauses to catch her breath, the last four words coming out as quite the outburst- even for her.
“It’s because of people like YOU, Emma, that our legal code is as complicated and convoluted and so freakishly huge as it is. People like YOU, who instead of sucking it up, taking their lumps, and attempting self-improvement look for every little loophole and caveat they can to justify themselves. It’s because of people like you that common sense and critical thinking has been rendered to an AFTERTHOUGHT, because simple application of it would blow every lame justification you come up with out of the bloomin’ water!”
“I’ll always remember what you said to Cara. ‘I’m not a traitor. I’m simply someone who looks after herself, and only herself.’”
Wendy busts out into open contemptious laughter here, shaking her head incredulously.
“THATS WHY PEOPLE BECOME TRAITORS, EMMA! You think Benedict Arnold wasn’t looking out for himself when he SOLD West Point to the British? You think the Rosenberg’s weren’t spending the money the Soviets gave them for nuclear secrets? You think Judas would have handed Jesus over if thirty pieces of silver weren’t on the table? Traitors are people who put their own self worth over the group they belong to! THATS WHY THEY BETRAY THEM!”
“You didn’t want to team with Cara or I because we were goody-two shoes or co-dependent or whatever other lame excuse you came up with? Fine. You should have said something BEFORE the match started, so either we, or you, could have been replaced. You wanted to leave the Mafia for the Power Trip? Fine, there were other ways to do it. But no, you wanted to do it in the most heinous way possibly on purpose. You wanted to make as big an impact as you could, so you did it in the middle of a Pay-Per-View Main Event.”
“Well, congratulations, Emma. You got your impact. For all the good it did you. Was it worth it? Truly worth it? Because let’s fast forward ten months.”
“All along, you bragged that the Mackenzie Mafia was dead. You said it was over, the Power Trip reigned supreme, and you SCOFFED when I told you that the spirit of the Mafia would live on, even if the name did it. And I was right. Did we have our rough spots? Yeah. Did we have our casualties? Sadly, yes. We lost Cara and Colleen due to termination, and Caroline to injury, and even myself for several months. But those of us who survived, we kept going, on and on. And now look at us now.”
Wendy does one of her normal small smirks, but isn’t quite able to hold it, and it turns into an almost full mocking grin.
“Val’s the FFW Champion, and she did it by knocking off Power Trip member Starla McCloud... twice. Eileen’s the Evolution Champion. I just beat the CAPTAIN of the Power Trip, Isabella Pazzini, and put her into retirement. Camilla’s gearing up to help Val smash Fight or Flight on Thursday in a massive match. Colleen’s over in SVW, making Legendary’s life even worse than she made all yours. Even Caroline’s hinting more and more about a possible return. I think the lot of us are doing pretty considering what you guys tried to do.”
“And it’s certainly better in comparison, because where’s the Power Trip? Dead! Gone! In both name and spirit. You guys are now on your own again. No superclique to torment the rest of us anymore!”
“I’d say, Ms. MacNamara, we won after all. It may not have been any of us who dealt the death blow to your clique, but we still have outlasted and outsurvived you.”
That smile remains. For a second, Wendy looks a little bit smug. Yeah, she gets a little less rigid when there’s some serioius contempt going on.
“And what have you ultimately gotten? A ten month run as a second tier member in a now dead stable? A three and a half month Ultraviolence title reign? I’m actually insulted that high-level betrayal is bought so cheaply these days.”
“And where are you now, Emma? The Power Trip’s dead. Your title’s gone, and in the hands of a woman you so despise you refuse to say her name. Last year, as the Mafia’s hitgirl, you were in the main event in your homeland. You think your recent actions and comments might have had anything to do with you not even being booked for a return trip?”
“So, I’ll ask you once again, Emma MacNamara. Was it all worth it?”
Wendy pauses for a second, her body language almost suggesting ‘go on, I’ll wait’, for several seconds.
“Of course, by this point, I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes. Probably laughing, even muttering to yourself. I’m sure ‘not what I said,’ or ‘putting words in my mouth’, or ‘not paying attention’ are coming out, since those seem to be the standard fall backs you have whenever someone calls you out on things you’d rather not deal with. And then, of course, there’s the tried and true line about how this is who you are, and you know what kind of person you are, and where you’re headed, and not interested, and la la lalala you’re not listening.”
Wendy finishes by putting her fingers in her ears, and talking in a singsong voice. She chuckles as she pulls her fingers out.
“I shouldn’t laugh, but it is a little bit funny. Or at least ironic. I remember a couple years ago when you confronted Jo McFarlane at catering over her decisions and acting like a petulant child. And now here you are, acting ten times worse, without even the ability to use inexperience as an excuse.”
“And just like Jo did, you’re probably going to spout of the same tired CRAP she did to me already. I’m a phony. I’m hiding behind my manager. Everything I do is just for publicity. Please, for the love of God, find something different. I’m sure I have enough REAL imperfections to harp on without you making some stuff up.”
“You wanna be a bad person, Emma? Go ahead. Be as miserable a wretch as you can possibly be. Go be a bad person with your new friends in Club CK, where you practically FLED so dang quickly after the dissolution of the Power Trip. Go be a bad person at home. Go be a bad person on a Virign Airways flight. Go be a bad person in your strip club. I don’t care. But do it on your own time to where the rest of us in this company don’t have to deal with your consistently negative and sadistic CRAP.”
A small shrug.
“Of course, that won’t happen. You wouldn’t take my advice in a million years. You probably aren’t even listening anymore. You probably started tuning me out two or three minutes into this, because you just don’t want to hear it. But I don’t care. Because honestly? After ten months of watching you treat pretty much everyone in this company like garbage, it’s quite cathartic to say it.”
“But that’s NOTHING in comparison to tonight, Emma. Because this was just me getting some stuff off my chest. Tonight, THAT is going to be where you’re going to learn the meaning of regret. THAT is going to be when you learn that you should have picked a far better time to join the Power Trip. And THAT is going to be the moment when anyone who’s ever thought about taking a lead pipe to my head will immediately gain very VERY substantial reservations.”
Wendy leans forward, and we can see the intensity and anger burning in her eyes- on a significantly higher level than what we normally see when she’s annoyed with someone.
“Because I don’t need to break rules to make you feel pain, Emma. I don’t need to cheat to make you scream. Just remember, though- I’m ultimately out to win, so once it starts, feel free to acquiesce at anytime, and it will stop immediately. Even in vengeance, I can be merciful once it’s over.”
Wendy’s voice softens, and she leans back, taking a deap breath.
“Because despite all that you’ve done to me and others, Emma, I don’t hate you. I don’t think you and I will ever be bosom buddies, but I know there’s a likeable side of you, and as much as you want to go around pretending it was all an act, it’s still there. But you went over the line, Emma, and you’ve been over for far to long, and tonight, I’m going to drag you back, kicking and screaming if I have to. Just try and keep your eyes open as it happens. This way, for future references, you’ll know where it is.”
Wendy starts to turn to go, but stops, and turns back around, looking one more time at the camera.
“Just remember, Emma. You could have avoided all this easily with a little bit more common sense”
And fade.
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