Wednesday September 25, 2013
Hoosier National Forest- Indiana State Highway 56
Just south of Prospect, Indiana
11:38 AM Local Time
“Freedom… Freedom! FREEDOM! YEAH FREEDOM!”
Annoyed with herself, the entire world, her husband, and whatever awful falsetto he was using to sing along to Aretha Franklin, Wendy Briese crossed her arms over her chest and glared out the window at the passing scenery. As Terrence slowed the car down to turn right onto US 150, she sighed, and looked at her side view mirror, back down the road to French Lick, where the Coldstone Academy sat. Another pang of guilt wracked her as she peeled her eyes away, closing them, rather than looking at anything else.
“I said think… THINK! Think about what you’re trying to do to me! Yeah, I said THINK!”
Finally, the last vestiges of her patience snapped, and she punched out, her hand slamming into the power button of the car’s radio. Abruptly, the music died, and Terrence’s singing cut off with a nervous titter, and a glance over at his wife coupled with his attempt at a placating smile. “Everything alright there, hon?”
Wendy took a deep breath, and looked away, at first refusing to answer. But then all her emotion,and frustration and guild bubbled up inside of her, and it came out, predictably, in a glaring accusation.
“I can’t believe that after all that’s happened this morning, you can just sit there and sing, like everything’s fine.”
Terrence only shrugged mildly, all too used to his wife’s more dark moods. “It’s over and done with, hon. No point in being bothered with it for the rest of the day. There’s a Subway in Shoals up the road. We’ll stop there for lunch. I’m sure once you have some food in you, you’ll feel a bit better…”
“I don’t want food in me!” Wendy outburst, an obvious lie, considering how much her stomach was rumbling. “Ugh! I can’t believe you-”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE *YOU* WANTED TO LEAVE ME AT THAT PLACE!” shrieked a voice from the back seat.
She felt her face growing warm from shame, embarrassment, and that still general irritated feeling, and she turned around to meet the accusing glare of her daughter. “Look, it’s not that I WANTED to, Theresa. It’s… look, there’s probably better ways we ALL could have gone about today, alright? ”
Her mind flashed back to little more than forty-five minutes ago, when they were up at the Coldstone Academy, filling out the paperwork for Theresa’s enrollment. Terrence had spent the entire session peppering Ms. Frouch with questions upon questions of the practices of the academy, while Wendy had sat silently, frozen in her miserable funk. She hadn’t liked some of the answers the headmistress had given, but Terrence had liked them even less, his questions becoming more and more sarcastic, until he asked-only half kidding- how often they used corporal punishment
“We do NOT abuse the children here at Coldstone!” Ms. Frouch had snapped, rising to her feet in indignation.
“Oh, the hell you don’t!” Terrence had snarled back, rising to his own feet, and he had given the woman a piece of his mind with an impassioned speech about the merits of freedom and the human soul. Even despite her bad mood, Wendy had been impressed. Her husband was hardly ever a philosopher.
She had been less impressed as things had rapidly deteriorated from there in a heated argument, spiraling to a point when Terrence had been yelling Rage Against the Machine lyrics over the school intercom.
Needless to say, the Thompson family, Theresa included, were no longer welcome at the Coldstone Academy for Girls.
“Yeah… we probably could’ve.” the present-moment Terrence was musing, before breaking out into a grin. “But that was WAY more fun. And besides, Nulla Tolerantia… whatever is Latin for ‘making my daughter miserable’.”
Wendy shot her husband a very dark look, then turned away to look back out the window. She was annoyed with her husband, of course. She hated to be kicked out of anything, especially in the wake of such an ugly scene. But more than anything, she was annoyed at herself, wracked with guilt and shame.
Even after learning what a horrible place Coldstone was, she had STILL signed the paperwork to turn her daughter- her only child who she loved more than anything else in the world- over to them. When it mattered most, she had sank into herself, embraced cowardice, and accepted the inevitable. If it hadn’t been for Terrence and his fiery refusal, Theresa would still be back there, having every last vestige of happiness and personality sucked out of her. She was horrified that she had come so close to allowing that to happen, and she was eternally grateful, more than she could ever say, to her husband for preventing it.
“Well, we still need to get her into a school,” Wendy groused, unable to breach her true feelings on the matter. “She’s missed two days already, and I have to leave for Vegas tomorrow, and… oh God.” she closed her eyes rubbing the bridge of her nose as if she had a migraine. “How the heck are we going to get anyone to take her when she’s been expelled TWICE in three days!”
“I’m GLAD I’m expelled from there!” Theresa piped up from the back seat. “That’s the place where fun goes to die!”
“I don’t think it counts as being expelled if you were never officially enrolled.” Terrence replied with a chuckle looking into her rear view mirror. “And stop glaring at your mother like that. She tried to put you in a school, not run you over with a car.” He grinned as Wendy shot him another furious look.
“We still need to figure out what to do.” Wendy said, despairing of verbalizing anything else other than a long, piercing scream of frustration.
“Why don’t we teach her?” Terrence said with a shrug. Immediately in the back seat, Theresa sat up and began nodding her head vigorously.
“You mean homeschooled? Don’t be ridiculous, Terrence. I don’t know the first thing about teaching, and you have to be licensed and…”
“Actually, you don’t. At least not in Indiana,” Terrence replied. “All you have to do is register that you’re homeschooling your kid with your local district so they’re not a truant, and fill out a form that says your child is receiving 180 days of instruction a year. That’s it.”
Wendy looked over at Terrence. “That’s… actually kind of scary.”
“I know, right?” Terrence laughed. “But its not like we’ll shove her in front of Nickelodeon and call that instruction. There are these accredation services you can get… and they give you everything you need. Books, lesson plans, and support if you have any questions or concerns. She can even take tests online, and they grade them and let you now how she’s doing and where she needs to improve. And she can learn at her pace, which is probably a damn sight faster than she would at College Park, and it’s WAY cheaper than any boarding school.”
Wendy blinked, surprised at her husband’s knowledge on the matter. Normally, the only research he ever bothered to put in was figuring out which pizza place had the best deal. She was impressed, but still, the nagging thoughts of doubt pounded her mind. “But Terry, how would we even have time for this? I could be the FFW Champion in four days, and who knows what that’ll do to my schedule, and you-”
“Have one race left on the season,” Terrence said. “And then I’m off for five months. And come on, Wendy. You know that you can rearrange your schedule, it’s flexible enough and Cody Kincaid understands. We can even get Pollaski to help… dude seriously knows his math. And we’ll only do it for second grade, and then next year, she can go to St. Anthony’s.”
Wendy paused, biting her lip. She still had her reservations, but Terrence’s confidence was somehow reassuring. And she could almost feel her daughter’s telepathic waves slamming into her, begging them to do it. She glanced over at her husband. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this sooner?”
Terrence waved his hand dismissively and shrugged. “You were working so hard yesterday trying to find a school, and so excited that you found one, that I didn’t want to rain on your parade and complicate things. And besides, that probably was the better way to go.. at least until the one place you found willing to take her turned out to be Hellhole University.”
Wendy sighed, and looked up at the roof of the car. “Let me look more into it when I get home… but I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try…” she said. “But if it doesn’t work out, then I’m finding another school for her, and I don’t care if we have to put her on a plane to Utah. I’m not letting her miss a year of education.”
“Yay!” Theresa said, excited at the idea of mommy and daddy being her teacher.
“Done then!” Terrence said, grinning. “When we get home, I’ll show you those websites on material. You can probably figure that stuff out better than I can.”
“That’s fine. Although I really really do need to get into the gym today, too” Wendy said, surprised at the feeling of relief that was washing over her.
“Of course, but we need to get you some calories to work off first,” Terrence said, pointing at the Subway that was coming up on the right. Evidently they had reached Shoals. Terrence pulled the car into the lot, and parked. The three of them climbed out, and Terrence took a look at his daughter, frowning.
She was still in the Coldstone school uniform.
“Dear God, you look like you just walked out of an orphanage,” Terrence muttered, reaching into the car, and pulling out a plastic bag- inside were the clothes she had been wearing when they had first arrived at the academy. He tossed them to her. “Go into the bathroom and change, for the love of God. We’ll burn those things when we get home.”
Theresa didn’t need to be told twice, and she was bolting across the lot, just as eager to be rid of the drab, uncomfortable uniform. Wendy smiled softly as she watched her daughter, then walked around the car, embraced her husband, and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you,” she whispered, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.”
“Oh? What for?” Terrence asked, returning his wife’s embrace.
“For preserving our daughter’s happiness. For having the courage to do what needed to be done back there, even when I was too busy off moping feeling sorry for myself.”
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Terrence replied gently. “You thought you were doing what was best for her, considering the circumstances. I should have told you what I’d found out about homeschooling earlier, so you’d have known that there was a viable alternative.”
Wendy nodded, breaking off the embrace, and brushing her hair out of her face. “You really think we can do this?” she whispered.
“Of course we can,” Terrence responded. “I have faith in you. I have faith in myself. And most importantly…” he turned towards the restaurant Theresa had just ran into. “I have faith in her.”
Wendy turned towards the restaurant too, nodding in agreement, and taking a deep breath. It felt as if a monstrous weight had just been lifted from her shoulders. There’d be difficulties in what they were doing, to be sure. But how could any of it have be harder than what she was fully prepared to do this morning? For the first time all day Wendy Briese truly smiled in content.
“Now come on…” Terrence said, breaking into her thoughts by gently grabbing her shoulder and guiding her towards the Subway. “There’s a foot long Applewood Pork in there with my name on it.
Wendy only took two steps before pausing, distracted by a sudden vibrating in her purse. She reached inside, and pulled out her phone, staring at the text message she had just received in surprise. “Steph Dallins just sold her bar!”
“Hunh…” Terrence said, just as surprised as his wife. “Never thought she’d do that…”
“Yeah,” Wendy said, sliding her phone back in, as the husband and wife resumed their trek into the restaurant. But as they approached the doors, Wendy couldn’t help but voice the random thought that had suddenly overtaken her mind; a question for which there was no answer:
“Why is it everytime we have a pay-per-view, half the roster suddenly undergoes a dramatic, radical, life changing event?”
===================
Saturday September 28, 2013
MGM Grand Hotel & Casino- Room 918
Las Vegas, Nevada
2:11 PM Local Tiime
The scene opens up in the hotel room of Wendy Briese, where the redhead #1 contender is sitting on a couch in her suite, spending the day relaxing before her huge night. She’s dressed fairly casually, in a plain pale green T-shirt and a pair of embroidered jeans, her legs crossed. On her lap is a small manilla folder, and Wendy slowly opens it, looking inside, and begins reading from it.
“A good housewife - which is really where you should be, and not in a wrestling ring… You don’t deserve to be here. You never will… Please, Wendy, tell me why you do. Tell me why a woman who is incapable of holding a belt past the first defence in this company, yet is so dominant everywhere else she goes, deserves a chance at the top spot in this company.”
“I hope those words sound familiar to you, Val. You said them. Three hundred and twenty-two days ago, they came out of your mouth, for all the world to hear.”
Wendy grimaces sadly, and shuts the envelope, reaching over and setting it on an end table next to the sofa. She takes a deep breath, and sighs, looking into that camera, a bit of melancholy laced in with her usual intense expression.
“You got your wish.”
“Less than twelve hours later, we faced. An errant charge, a crash into the steel steps, and a couple fractured vertabrae, and that was it. I wasn’t here. I wasn’t anywhere in FFW. I was back in my rightful place, according to you. A housewife in Indianapolis, although one who wasn’t good much for cleaning and cooking, considering I could barely move.”
“One hundred forty days, I was like that. Twenty weeks I was away from this company, fighting my own battlle. First fighting through the pain enough so I could simply function as a normal human being. Then fighting through rehabilitation as I tried to heal myself. Then fighting through my training so that I could make my return, which I did, as you will very well remember at Chaos Theory.”
Wendy slightly spreads her arms, gesturing lazily at the hotel room around her.
“And now, here I am, Valerie. It’s been nearly eleven months after that accident, six months after my return. Since then I have gained victories over FOUR former FFW Champions. I main evented the biggest show of 2013, and faced- and beat- the only three-time FFW Champion to date in company history. And now I- the exact same person who didn’t even deserve to be in the semifinals of the Femme For All eleven months ago, stand here as the number one contender to YOUR FFW Championship.”
“So, Val. Do I deserve to be here now? Tell me what’s changed. Go on, I’ll wait.”
A small smile at using one of Lamb’s favorite phrases, although there’s more disappointment than humor behind it.
“I proved you wrong, Val. Every day I’m in this company, every event I attend, every match I wrestle, every victory I accumulate defies you. You’ll never admit it, of course. You’re too prideful and stubborn to ever do that. But you know it. I can tell by the way you’ve treated me since my return. You certainly would never have invited someone who didn’t belong here to train with you and your dad in Glasgow, that’s for sure.”
“Because I know the truth, Val. And the truth is, not only were you dead wrong about me, you were never more glad to be wrong in your life. Because if the Wendy you supposedly liked, the Wendy who sat back and took whatever the world gave her, had been sitting in the commentary booth on May 25, 2013, then Relentless- the greatest night of your career- would have ended with a bellhammer being smashed into your skull.”
The intensity is still there, but Wendy’s earlier melancholic tone has been replaced with a far more fierce one, one of vindication.
“We’ve had an interesting relationship over the past three and a half years, you and I. You’ve been my opponent, my rival, my boss, my tag partner, my colleague, and my one-time training partner. But for all the respect there is between us, we’ll probably never be best friends. You don’t really like me, Val, the venom you spewed last November came too easy to your tongue. You’re probably going to do it again, throw me under the bus with another contrived venomous lashing, and if that makes you feel better, if that’s what gets you mentally prepared for our match, that’s fine. But I’m not going to reciprocate, Val. I have a couple of points to make, and they are valid ones, but I respect you too much to run you down.”
“You’ve always seen me the way you’ve WANTED to see me. You see me as weak willed, someone who hides behind her husband and manager. Someone who wears a mask, faking humility and virtue. You see me as a sham, someone who falls so short of the ideals she claims to represent. And you see me as a fool, someone who only sees the world in black and white, and can’t comprehend anything that doesn’t fit into her neatly packaged paradigm.”
Wendy shrugs, a grimace across her features.
“And maybe some of it is true. I’m not perfect, after all, you can trust me on that. But you’ve turned me into a caricature, even more so than Colleen ever did with her Pollyanna schtick. Silly whiny clueless arrogant fake naive little Wendy! And you’ve distorted everything you could to make the picture fit in your frame. I think part of it was due to frustration, part of it due to irritation, maybe even a little bit of jealousy. But most of all, Val, I think its ignorance. You know what it was like for me in PWX. But before that, during my first run as a wrestler?”
“I debuted in 2001. I know you were only thirteen, but you grew up in a wrestling family, Val. Do you remember how things were then? Maybe it was different in Scotland, but in America, that wasn’t exactly during the golden age of women’s wrestling. The idea that women could compete on equal ground with the men, the idea that female wrestling was more than just filler and T&A exhibitionism, was only just getting off the ground. My first company, what few women there were could be divided neatly into two camps- those who dressed like strippers and tried to sleep with half the locker room, and those who dressed like dominatrixes and tried to torture half the locker room. My promoter had no idea what to do with ME, given that I fit into neither. He threw my barely trained self into match after match against talent way higher on the card, thinking that maybe watching a cute girl getting beaten up would get a rise from the fetishists out there. He went even so far as to encourage our rivals in the tag division to hide a camera in my locker room, and air me getting dressed on the jumbotron, trying to squeeze out the T&A that I flat out refused to give him.”
Wendy’s emerald eyes blaze. It’s obvious that, even nearly twelve years later, she’s still pretty angry about that.
“My first women’s division saw more catfights than wrestling, and the fights were more over men than they were the championships. It was so bad that after I finally broke out of it, I swore I’d never be in a women’s division or company again, a promise I held until I was convinced to come to FFW. Even after I broke out, and wrestled my butt off trying to gain the respect of the fans and my peers, it was an uphill battle. No one had a problem with me winning tag titles. Even secondary titles, once I proved myself, people were okay with. But the top belts? Sorry. Too small. Too nice. Not enough killer instinct.”
“You claim you’ve been through midcard hell, Val. I have too, in some of the most inexpicable, contrived ways. Imagine, Val, being passed over for a chance at the world title, against a man you hated more than anyone else, because he kidnapped you and locked you in a dungeon. And then imagine being told straight up that the reason why is because the LAST woman to challenge for the title needed eight of her friends jumping the champion and beating him into unconsciousness with frozen trout, and if SHE couldn’t get it done on her own, imagine what would happen if a goody-twoshoes who refused to cheat got in that ring? I wish I was making that up.”
“Then imagine your regional company breaking away from its alliance, expanding its territory, and forming its own World Championship. And then imagine being told that despite being the regional champion just the previous week, you weren’t even going to be in the tournament to determine it, and you can unify your belt with the secondary championship you already had for nine months, and go play in the sandbox with the other midcarders.”
Wendy shakes her head, almost amused at the recollection of some of what she’s had to deal with.
“You would have me blame Terrence for much of that, considering there were many, many times that a door closing in my face was also a door opening for him. The fact hasn’t been lost on my husband either. When he told me the best thing to ever happen to my career was him retiring so I could step out from behind his shadow, he was only half-joking.”
“But how can I resent someone I love getting a chance to fulfill their dreams, even if it comes at the expense of mine? He didn’t make the decisions. He wasn’t the one who told me I was too small or too nice to ever be a top level wrestler. He’s supported me every step of the way, Val, which is far more than we see from a lot of wrestling husbands in the world today.”
“I know you think I’m better than him in that ring. But my head to head record against him proves otherwise. Every time I’ve gone up against him but once, I’ve walked out the loser, and that one time had so many extenuating circumstances to it that even now it makes my head hurt. I’m probably better than him now, considering he’s been retired for two years, and I feel like I’m in the best physical condition of my life, but that’s neither here nor there. The fact of the matter is, I begrudge the decisions, but not who they benefitted. After all, it’s all of our jobs to rise as high as we can in this industry, and how can I begrudge someone who does their job better than me, especially if that person is the one I love most in the entire world? ”
Wendy sighs, and her voice softens.
“I know you don’t like Terrence, Val. You two got off on the wrong foot, and just like with me, you’ve painted this picture of him that you refuse to deviate from. A picture of this arrogant, overbearing, condescending jerk jock. And you know what? Sometimes he is. He’s certainly incorrigible. But he has NEVER screwed me over, Val. He has NEVER abandoned me, or left me high and dry, which is far more than I can say about the reverse. He has been a wonderful husband, and a wonderful father to my child, and just this week stopped me from making one of the biggest, dumbest, most horrible mistakes I’d ever made in my life.”
Wendy’s voice finishes on a catch, and she takes a second to compose herself.
“I suppose you’re wondering what the point of all this is. I’m not trying to convince you to like Terrence- there’s too much between you for that to ever happen. I’m not trying to get sympathy, most of that happened years, even a decade ago, and my run certainly hasn’t been all bad.”
“I’m trying to make you understand where I’m coming from, Val. We’ve both been climbing the rocky slopes of wrestling for a long time. We’ve had our rises, we’ve had our falls, and we have both stood on summits and admired the view. But no two mountains are alike. The paths are different. The hazards are different. And the view from the top is different. And I can already tell you, from standing here one ledge below the top, that this summit is higher and has a more beautiful view than any I’ve ever been on.”
A small, wistful sigh.
“Every company in wrestling represents something different, Val, and so do their belts. The BWA represented old school southern power. It was a great company, had wonderful booking and a phenomenal talent pool for a small regional fed, but it was very set in its ways. They wanted old school style matches that could turn into a good old fashioned fistfight at any second. Penny Buchanan would have felt right at home there, but me… I was always a bit of an outcast. I had my fans, of course, but I was never considered the true Bayou type. And when I survived an eight man tournament to win the #1 contendership, I had to wait six months for a crack at the championship. And even when I beat the champion in the middle of the ring, everyone immediately pointed to his concussion, and simply said I got lucky, and the first chance they had to push me back down the card- without me even losing my belt, mind you- they did it.”
“The X3 was dfferent. I got lucky enough to join just in time for their tournament, and that company had potential to be great. I became their first champion, winning an epic, emotional ladder match… and then things just fell apart. Madelyne McTaggert… yes, we all know her, took over, and began tearing down what the owner had built. We suddenly went on a monthlong hiatus, and even when we came back, we never recovered. When ownership is constantly trying to undo itself in a massive power struggle, you don’t have a chance. X3 ended up standing for unfulfilled potential.”
“FFW, on the other hand, stands for unlimited potential, and I know I’ve said it before, but it can NOT be said enough. FFW is the land of opportunity, where a female wrestler can be who she wants to be, so long as she can deliver in that ring. You want to be a high flyer? Go ahead. You want to be a submissionist? Fine. Amazonian power brawler? There’s a place for you. Ultraviolent? If you want to be.”
Even though the expression on Wendy’s face clearly says ‘but why would you want to be?’. Hey, old habits die hard.
“We’re not perfect, of course. We’ve had more than our fair share of controversies. I’m just like everyone else in this sport, I’ve been frustrated, I’ve disagreed with decisions, and I’ve feldt the need to vent on an occasion. But I have never felt more at home in a company than I have in FFW, I have never been more proud to be in a company than I have FFW, and I have never desired a title more than the FFW Championship you hold. Yes, even more than the No Surrender Championship, despite some people’s assumptions.”
Wendy cracks a small grin, although the pride on her face and in her voice doesn’t vanish.
“FFW is more than a company, Val, and that title is more than just another belt. It’s a statement. It’s a testament to how far we’ve come. A decade ago, women were viewed as little more than a sideshow, and now, an entire company exclusively of women not only can survive on a national, or even global level, but it has become one of the most premier wrestling organizations in the entire world. You can’t even imagine how unfathomable that seemed once upon a time.”
Wendy’s face darkens slightly, her tone taking a subtle change.
“And you Val, as our champion, you’re the number one representative of this movement. The driving force. So I can’t, for the life of me, fathom why the HELL you would risk it all to go and participate in Ice Dog Fight Night. Yes, I know Todd Warren annoyed you, he’s annoyed all of us. There were fifty women on this roster who WEREN’T this company’s most precious commodity who could have kicked his butt just as easily.”
“But God, Val… the risk you put yourself in… for what? You have no idea how my heart ws in my THROAT as I watched that. No, I wasn’t afraid of Todd Warren beating you, but things HAPPEN Val, when we least expect them. You could have torn a muscle lifting him, you could have missed a move and strained something, someone looking to make a name for themselves could have jumped you and put you in the hospital. And all this, this big dream match, the main event for the second biggest show of the year, out number one wrestler at the moment, would have been gone. Just. Like. That. Because you wanted to grandstand for a meaningless match with a non-wrestler.”
Wendy shakes her head, not quite in disgust, but definitely disappointment.
“I don’t think you truly understand how important this is, Val. And you don’t understand how important YOU are to this company, whether or not you hold that belt. Could FFW survive without you? Of course, we’ve done that twice before. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt us.”
“There’s a lot of great talent in this company. We have great up and comers like Misty Whitmore and Kinsey DeCaro. We have competitors who are downright scary to face like Tara Thunder and Eileen Amaro. We have… Crystal Hilton. And then we have two women here who have a chance to transcend greatness, even transcend legendary status, to being point blank Icons. Women who have potential to be as synonymous to professional wrestling as Michael Jordan is to basketall and Wayne Gretzky is to hockey. You’re one of them, Val, and the second...”
Wendy pauses, then simply shrugs, chuckling softly, and shaking her head.
“It really doesn’t matter who the second is right now, does it? It’s not me, Val, I’ll tell you that much. You really think that after everything I’ve been subjected to in my career, I’d be an icon? No, I’ve suffered far too much himiliation over the years to ever achieve that status. I may become a champion. I may be eventually considered a legend. I may even one day be inducted into a hall of fame. But I will never achieve that iconic status.”
Her voice is matter-of-fact, there’s no bitterness there. It’s something she’s obviously come to terms with.
“But you Val, I knew you were special the moment I saw you in PWX. Heck, you already know that you were one of the reasons I joined that company, because I knew a match with you would be incredible, and you haven’t disappointed me yet. There’s a reason why you were the first inductee announced for the FFW Hall of Fame, Val. And you’re only twenty-four! How many years do you have left? How many more title wins, how many more five-star matches, how many more legendary moments can you decorate your already impressive shrine with? More than I will, that’s for sure.”
“I’m an old woman, Val, by wrestling standards. I’m thirty-two, and I just faced a woman YOUNGER than me in her retirement match. If it wasn’t for my five year hiatus, I doubt I’d even be here today. I’m in great condition now, perhaps the best of my life, but that’s not going to last forever. How long do I have left? Two years? Three years? Four years?”
A small shrug.
“I don’t know where the end of the road is, but it’s moments like this that make me realize all too well that it’s a lot closer than I want it to be. Time is a resource, and like all resources, when you realize they’re running out, you want to make what you have count a little more. Carpe Diem- Sieze the Day. And today, Saturday, the twenty-eighth day of September in the two thousand and thirteenth Year of Our Lord, is a day I plan to seize the heck out of.”
Again, Wendy’s voice softens, an emotional edge coming to it.
“Because I owe you my career, Val. Despite all the venom you spewed, despite how much you made it clear you wanted me gone, you still held back when I was injured, and didn’t completely cripple me. You didn’t take the liberties you could have taken, and you left me in condition to wrestle again. I’ll never forget that. So thank you. And the best way I can thank you for that, is the same as with any gift- to cherish it, and to use it every bit as I can. To treat every match I wrestle as a blessing, and to give everything I can to the fullest extent, because it’s one more match I may not have wrestled if not for you. And yes, Val, even if it comes at your expense. I doubt you’d have it any other way.”
The hard intensity returns, and Wendy leans forward, her emerald eyes boring into the camera.
“And I still have plenty of items left unchecked on my wrestling bucket list. The one’s I can make happen tonight? Well… One, finally have a match with you that doesn’t end in caveats or controversies or catastrophic accidents halfway through. Two, end this ridiculous Sin & Sacrifice losing streak that I’ve somehow become famous for. Three, beat you one on one, something that, for however impressive my record is against you, I’ve never done. Four, scale the mountain and claim the FFW Championship, something that will be all the more special beause of how hard, and how long that climb ended up being. And fiver, walk into Anarchy in my hometown of Indianapolis with that belt around my waist.”
“I want you to think back to Relentless, Val, when you stood in that ring, with the crowd cheering for you as tears ran down your face. I was at ringside, I saw point blank how special it was to you, how you finally achieved what you spent so long trying for. I want the same feeling, Val. And Saturday Night, come hell or high water, I’m going to get it.”
A small smile, as Wendy stands up.
“You have a long career ahead of you Val, and you will hold this title again. It may take a few months, it may take a year, but you will get it back. But you are leaving Las Vegas without that belt, Valerie Lamb. That summit is nice, Val, and I want my turn up top, even if it means that I have to knock you off of it.”
Wendy walks towards the camera, and leans down in front of it, speaking softly into it as she reaches for the power button.
“I’ve traveled far to stand up there, and I’m not going back down until I do.”
And out.
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