FRIDAY MAY 30, 2014
7:58 AM EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME
THE RV- MASTER BEDROOM
BELFORD, NEW JERSEY
Wendy Briese smiled contently as the sunlight filtered in through the RV’s windows, penetrating her closed eyelids and rousing her from her slumber. Without opening, she sighed, turning her head and nestling back into her pillow. She had probably overslept by at least an hour, but it felt worth it. A little decadance now and then wasn’t a sin, after all.
She really should open her eyes and get going, she knew. She had a busy day ahead of her, she knew, with several pre show activities in downtown New York, not to mention her promo scheduled to be shot tonight. But the bed just felt so nice and relaxing, and she was loathe to get up. Another fifteen minutes of sleep or so wouldn’t hurt.
She winced slightly as a tongue began to lick her face, starting at her chin, and moving to her nose. She giggled from the tickling sensation. “Terry, I told you, not until tonight,” she rebuked, reaching out to push her husband’s face away.
She got a fistful of fur instead.
Now Wendy’s eyes opened, and she found herself staring in the face of Fireball, who was panting happily at her wagging its tail. Terrence had named the copper-colored goldendoodle after a legendary stock car driver, and Theresa had happily agreed with the “cool” name. Wendy didn’t really care about the mutt’s name, but she certainly cared that the animal was somehow on her bed, when it was supposed to be tightly locked away in its cage.
“What are you doing in here?” the Flame haired wrestler growled. Beyond the dog, she could see that the other side of the bed was empty. Evidently Terrence had woken up, let the beast out of its cage, and lost track of it. Surprise, surprise.
She was already annoyed and frustrated as it was. The drive from Indianapolis to New York, on a good day, took 12 hours. With a cursed mutt with an unpredictable bladder, it had turned into an unbearable grind, pulling of every hour or so to allow the dog to do its business. Half the time they wouldn’t be on time, and had to spend several more minutes cleaning yet another ruined upholstery with Terrence’s “Magic Enzyme Spray”. It actually worked quite well, but that was beside the point.
For an answer, Fireball simply yipped, and wagged her tail some more.
“Alright, you’re not supposed to be in here,” Wendy said, pushing herself up, and grabbing the squirming goldendoodle. She held it in front of her, and made to stand up, but stopped as an unpleasant odor wafted into her nostrils. Automatically, she turned her head, and quickly discovered, to her horror, the source of the odor lying in a rather watery pile mere inches from where she had been lying.
“You. Have. GOT. To. Be. Kid-YEARGH!”
At that moment, the puppy had let it’s other end go, Wendy catching the stream full on in the chest. Shrieking in rage and disgust, she threw Fireball onto the bed, and leapt across the room, tearing at her nightgown and throwing it aside, onto the bed. Fireball happily bit into it, shaking her newfound chewtoy and wagging her tail again.
At that moment Terrence bolted in, alarmed by his wife’s shriek. He looked at Wendy, standing naked save for her socks, then over at the messed bed, then back at Wendy again, a grin coming over his features.
“Didn’t think you’d ever be into that kind of stuff, but if you’re feeling adventurous, I’m willing to try it.”
The thunderous look on his wife’s face indicated the attempt at levity was greatly unappreciated. “Alright, come on, you. Let’s get you outside,” And he picked up the dog, and carried it out of the room. Her face having passed her hair in redness, Wendy threw open the wardrobe door and began furiously throwing on clothes. Through the door, she could hear her husband telling Theresa to get the leash, and take Fireball outside. Again.
“Okay, that’s IT.” Wendy informed her husband as she furiously adjusted her bra as he returned to the room. “Either that HELLHOUND leaves, or I do.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Terrence muttered, although to his credit he managed to avoid rolling his eyes. “The bed should be easy enough to clean.”
“It’s not just the bed, Terrence,” Wendy snarled, pulling on her pants halfway before realizing they were backwards. “It’s the living room carpet. The hallway. The stairs. The couch. The KITCHEN TABLE in the RV. The galley floor…”
“Okay, so Fireball is a little bit… leaky.”
“Fireball, is a lot bit DISGUSTING, Terrence. And we were HAPPY in marriage for eight years without a dog, so why did you suddenly feel the need to UNILATERALLY change that?”
“Well, they only had one-”
“Don’t TELL me it’s because they only had one left!” Wendy shot back. “You could have taken the same phone you used to call Puppy Mills USA, and dialed ME to talk to me about it. I’m fairly certain I’m in your contact list. And then we could have conferred, I would have told you absolutely not, and that would have been the end of it!”
Terrence blinked. “Wait, so why does your ‘no’ vote count more than my ‘yes’ vote?”
“Because, you’ve made ENOUGH unilateral decisions in this family for my lifetime, Terrence,” Wendy snapped out, reaching for a shirt so aggressively the plastic hanger snapped. “YOu unilaterally made the decision to buy the RV. You unilaterally made the decision to sell my car. You unilaterally made the decision to retire from wrestling. You unilaterally made the decision to buy North Marion. ANd now you’ve unilaterally made a decision to buy a freaking DOG.”
“Okay, whoah, timeout.” Terrence said, making the customary signal. “First of all, you already got me back for selling your car by pretending to sell mine, so you can’t use that. You yourself have said time and again that the RV is a godsend for when we’re on the road. My retiring got you into the company that has made you a bigger star than ever. And North Marion included a training gym that you’ve used rigorously. Damn near everything I’ve done has turned out for the better. You can’t argue with that.”
“And the dog has somehow, in the span of less than forty-eight hours, get excrement all over it.” Wendy shot back.
“You never know, hon,” Terrence said with a small smile. “There may come a day where you’ll be damn glad we have a dog. A fully grown goldendoodle might have been able to handle that rat.”
“I doubt it,” Wendy responded cooly.
Terrence took a deep breath. “Look, you’re right. I dont’ apologize for my decisions, because they were the right ones, and have made my life better, your life better, and Theresa’s life better. But...I shouldn’t have sprung so much of this on you with no notice. It’s unfair to you. Especially this dog, because I know you don’t like them. But… it was the heat of the moment Theresa got excited, and I got excited, and the next thing we knew, we were in the car with Fireball in a box throwing up on a towel.”
Wendy rolled her eyes as she looked in the wardrobe’s mirror. At least now she was fully dressed and ready to take on the last day before Relentless. She sighed, looking over at Terrence. “Alright. Two week trial from next Monday. Sixteen days to see if this can work out, and if not, the dog goes back.”
“Oh, come on,” Terrence argued, “At least give it some time after once we can housetrain her. Three months.”
“Absolutely not! One month.” Wendy countered. She looked back over at the bed with a frustrated sigh. “This is going to take that long to clean up as it is. Thirty-six hours from a match with Tara Thunder of all people, and I’m dealing with this. Why is it, major life-altering events happen right before pay-per-views?”
“You already asked that once,” Terrence pointed out. “And, I don’t know why, but it’s not exactly a bad thing.”
“Seriously?” Wendy demanded, glaring at him.
“Seriously!” Terrence affirmed. “I mean, think about it. They kind of bring you luck. Theresa got kicked out of school right before you won the FFW Championship. I bought the race track right before you knocked the shit out of Jodie in that open challenge to the Power Trip. Your dad escaped from prison right before you won the No Surrender title for the first time. And right before you beat Tara in that Winner Takes All match, you shot-”
“I get the picture!” Wendy snapped, cutting off her husband with a glare. Her expression softened as she looked at the bed. “Although I suppose between getting a dog and going through that again… I’d take the dog.”
Silence reigned for several seconds, before Wendy turned back to her husband. “Two months.” she said firmly. “Two months to see if this works out. But it’s my call. Not yours. Not Theresa’s. If, on August 1 I want the mutt gone, the mutt’s gone. Got it?”
Terrence studied her for several more seconds, then reluctantly nodded. “Deal.”
Neither Terrence nor Wendy sensed the eight year old girl with her ear pressed up against the bedroom door, even when she pulled away with a gasp of horror. Tears of panic in her eyes, she ran across the RV, picking up the goldendoodle and cradling it in her arms.
“Come on, Fireball. We have to make you the best dog ever so mommy doesn’t get rid of you!”
As Theresa set the dog down, again Fireball dipped and let loose another stream of pee onto the floor. Theresa stared down at her, cross.
“That’s so not a good start.”
====================================
SUNDAY MAY 31, 2014
2:05 AM EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME
CONEY ISLAND- DENO’S WONDER WHEEL AMUSEMENT PARK
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK
There’s realy nothing in the world more creepier than an amusement park that’s gone dark. But that is exactly where our scene opens up, just off the Coney Island Midway, the camera slowly approaching the ghostly silhouettes of the attractions against both the night sky and the glaring lights of Brooklyn lying just beyond. The camera goes through a small gate, and begins walking towards the carousel, going around it deeper into the park. It finally comes to a stop as it rounds a corner, and comes face to face with a lone feminine figure, shrouded in darkness.
“Hello, Tara Thunder. We’ve been expecting you. We’ve been expecting you for a good long while. Too long. But you’re here now. You’ve finally made it. So, welcome, Tara Thunder. Welcome… to CONTENDERLAND!”
With that, the amusement park suddenly comes to life, with the carousel, a nearby roller coaster, and the world famous Wonder Wheel coming to life in a dazzling array of lights and carnival style music. The woman is illuminated by the lights, revealing herself (to no ones surprise) as Wendy Briese, dressed in a simple green dress, along with a black windbreaker open down the front, as it’s a bit chilly.
“Yes, Tara. Contenderland. The exclusive club for women who are in serious contention to challenge for the FFW Championship, the greatest prize in all of women’s wrestling. Not many women are allowed into these Hallowed grounds. Scarlett, of course, since she’s the champion. Mika Demidov challenges tonight. I challenge again in two months. Valerie Lamb, especially if she beats Stacey tonight, remains solidly in the discussion as well, even if she doesn’t have a specific shot lined up. Four women. Four women out of seventy-six on the roster. A little over five percent of the roster are currently considered true, honest to God contenders to the top championship in this company.”
“And now you make the number five, Tara. Like I said before… welcome to the club.”
Wendy gestures to her side, over towards the gate the camera walked through earlier.
“Yes, welcome. Because you may have noticed, Tara, that we’re not standing at the gate. I’m not here blocking your admittance. You’re inside the park. You already got your ticket and had your hand stamped, you’ve had that for a couple years. All you’ve had to do was find the RESOLVE to put one foot in front of the other, and walk inside.”
“So let me get that big elephant in the room out of the way, clear up a couple of misconceptions. Tonight is not about whether or not Tara Thunder deserves to be in the main event FFW Championship picture. That question has been answered through three and a half years of blood, sweat, and tears on her part. Tonight is simply a rivalry reborn. A reunion of two women who, twenty-two months ago, took each other to the limit in one of the greatest, most emotional matches in this company’s history.”
“If there’s a question to any of this, Tara… it’s where the heck have you been since that night? Because when the lights went out at Safeco field and the curtain fell on Unstoppable III… your road here was clear. All you had to do was come down the ramp on the next show, hold up a microphone, and say ‘I want Scarlett Kincaid’, and you may have well been FFW Champion by the end of the year. But you didn’t. No, instead you focused on getting a pointless revenge win against Hanna Elliot, and then subversing yourself to the Power Trip, content to be their hired muscle and lackey. And that’s was tragic. There’s no other way to describe one of the best female wrestlers in the world, one so seemingly hungry to prove just how great she was, utterly lacking the AMBITION needed to put her in the arena to do just so.”
“And then finally… FINALLY you were ready to pursue that gold again, and you placed yourself directly in contendership for the No Surrender Championship.”
Wendy shakes her head softly laughing, her emotions in three parts- annoyed, amused, and sad.
“The irony of that just kills me. Everyone knows that I, Wendy Briese, spit on the Evolution Championship to favor the No Surrender Division. That I cast aside the second-highest belt in the company like GARBAGE for the sake of my own ego. And everyone knows this, Tara because you have spent TWO YEARS pushing this narrative. Because of your… dedication to the story, it’s become almost a stock talking point where I’m concerned, echoed ad nauseum by the great parrots of our locker room, such as Stephanie Sullivan. I’m sure you’re absolutely proud listening to her adopt your crackpot ideas as her own.”
“Yes, Tara. Crackpot. Because the simple fact of the matter is, I made a tough decision I didn’t want to have to make. You would have had to make the same decision had you won that match. I had two belts, could only keep one, I chose. I would have loved to have defended both, but I was told no. I did everything I could to make sure that when I released the Evolution Championship, it retained as much prestige as I could possibly manage. That’s why I held the mini-ceremony, and bought the travel case, and personally handed the belt to Mr. Horton, because I wanted to make sure everyone knew that I wasn’t casting aside some trinket like it was garbage, that I was reluctantly, tearfully parting with a treasured posession that I wasn’t allowed to keep.”
“And I never regretted it for a second. Even after hearing your distorted take on the matter. Even after losing the No Surrender Championship to Serafina. Even after watching Crystal Hilton win the Evolution Championship, and then seeing the belt pass on to that great bastion of unhallowed misery Katherine Stryfe, I didn’t regret my decision. I made the right one, and seeing where those belts- BOTH those belts are today confirms it.”
Wendy takes a deep breath. Her voice has been calm, although there’s a definite spark of anger in her emerald eyes.
“But now here’s the killer irony. You did the exact same thing, Tara. When all was said and done, you could have cashed in that rematch clause, zeroed in on Crystal or Katherine, and won that Evolution Championship, the one that hurt you so much to see cast aside, back and held it for another eight months. You could have done that easily. But you didn’t. You turned your back on the Evolution division, and went to the No Surrender. The exact same thing I did. So why did you do that, Tara? Why did you turn your back on the title you loved, the title you thought I disgraced, and that you could have restored the honor to only if you held it again?”
“Because of me.”
There’s no trace of arrogance or bragging in her voice. Wendy says it matter of factly with a shade of weariness, and perhaps, a little bit of disgust.
“You went to the No Surrender division because of me, didn’t you? You said as much last September, right before you defended against Stephanie Sullivan. I quote… ‘ I set my sights on the very division Wendy Briese made famous, she had risen up that division to defeat me and if I went through it myself, maybe I could show that I can do just what she did, be one of the greatest submissionists around.... Watching Serafina beat Wendy after Briese had vacated my beloved Evolution Championship made her my prime target. I hoped and prayed that one day I could face her and do something Wendy Briese could not do, beat Serafina for a title.’”
Wendy looks up, a clear ‘what the hell?!’ expression on her face.
“And see, that’s got me thinking, Tara. Because things just keep popping up, and more and more I feel like they aren’t coincidences. Your career in Femme Fatale Wrestling has shadowed mine almost EXACTLY. You started in the Evolution Division. You then moved to the No Surrender Division. Both times you claimed the title from the woman who beat me for it, and then you went on to hold it longer than I did. And now that I’ve won the FFW Championship, you’re coming for that too.”
“And through it all, you CONSTANTLY kept bringing me up. Dang near every single time you have appeared in front of a television camera in an FFW capacity, my name comes out of your raving mouth. Wendy did this. Gwendolyn couldn’t do that. Briese threw away the title. And through it all the constant need to remind EVERYONE that you have NEVER beaten me, which isn’t technically true, but never let the facts get in the way of a good narrative, right?”
Wendy rubs her eyes, as if she suddenly has a migraine, before taking a deep breath, and looking directly into the camera.
“It feels like you’re stalking me, Tara. Not in the physical sense… I’m not looking over my shoulder when I go for a walk, but… in some weird temporal sense, you’re following my every move, and I don’t think its a coincidence. Heck, the last time we faced,you even took my promo, and went down it line by line, rebutting it. Even THEN you were trying to follow me.”
“So I want you to answer this question truthfully, Tara Thunder. Don’t scoff. Don’t laugh. Just think about it. How much of your FFW career is guided by some desire to one-up me? How much of your motivation over the past two to three years has been to stick it to Wendy Briese?”
Wendy takes a deep breath, and sighs, sadly shaking her head.
“I hope to God that I’m wrong on this. I hope my ego is fuelling my imagination and giving me groundless suspicions but somehow, deep down, I know I’m right. And that makes me sad, and a little bit angry.”
“You have any idea how short you’re selling yourself with this attitude, Tara? The ranting, the raving, the obsession? It makes you look second rate, which you are so very much not. You’re one of the few women in this company that everyone- from the champion Scarlett all the way down to our newest signee Ravyn Taylor- dreads to face. And that includes me too.”
“But I will tell this to you plain as day, Tara. As long as you remain obsessed with one-upping me, or anyone else. As long as my existence is a driving force behind your career decisions, it doesnt matter how many titles you win, or what they are, or how long you hold them. It won’t matter how many wins you have, or how many main events you sell out. You will ALWAYS be second-fiddle, until you learn to LET IT GO and become your OWN woman.”
As Wendy pauses to catch her breath, the sound of a male humming is heard from behind the camera, the tune being “Let It Go” from Frozen. Wendy shoots a glare at the camera, and the humming immediately stops. Another pause while Wendy takes another deep breath.
“But it’s put me on notice, too. I’ve seen what happens in rematches with people who’ve beaten you, and it’s not pretty. You nearly broke poor Hanna Elliott in half, and you actually knocked Caroline out of the company for several months. And your animosity for me is far greater than it was for either of them. I know what you’re going to do if the opportunity presents itself, but that opportunity will not be presenting itself. You may be all to eager to fall into MY patterns, Tara Thunder, but I’ll be DAMNED if I’m going to fall into yours!”
“And I’ll be damned if I’m going to be YOUR scapegoat for whatever failings you possess. I am not going to be blamed because I did my job well and won a match. I’m not going to be blamed because I was forced to make a tough decision, and you didn’t like it. I’m not going to be blamed because you’re too insecure to do what was best for your career, and I’m not going to be blamed because of the path your own decisions led you on. And if I do win tonight, I will not be blamed for whatever mopey petulant funk you throw yourself in because you can’t handle it!”
“So do yourself a HUGE favor, Tara, and SHUT UP.”
“Shut up about the non-exisistant disrespect you’re not getting. Shut up about the perceived insults that could only be interpreted as such by a paranoid MANIAC. Shut up about being offended to death about every little thing you don’t agree with. And for the love of God, shut up about everything being some kind of conspiracy against you and realize that some things are actually to be taken at face value here! You’re in the big girl division now, Tara, so START ACTING LIKE ONE.”
Wendy takes a deep breath before continuing.
“But all that aside, do you feel it now? Are you beginning to sense just how close you are? Because this is the point where the stakes get higher, but everything becomes that much more difficult. Where dreams are either made or doomed to be left unfulfilled. This is not a level for the faint of heart, and there’s a reason why so few are ever up at this level at once.”
“But you know what, Tara Thunder, you’re going to be just fine. Because for all the ranting and raving you do, for all the crazy mumbo-jumbo your mouth spouts and your unhealthy obsession with anyone who’s ever beaten you… you’re on the right track. You have the talent. You have the drive- no matter how scrwed up your motivations are. And you also do things the right way. It may take you months, maybe even a year or two, but I do think that sooner or later, you will be standing on top of the mountain.”
“And that’s all the more reason I need to beat you tonight.”
“You’re like a flooding river, Tara. When you have your mind on something, you start rising towards it. And you can’t stop a river from rising. The only thing you can do is keep piling on the sandbags, and hope you can slow it down enough so it won’t spill over. I don’t think I can stop you. Even if I were to beat you tonight, even if it were in dominant fashion, I couldn’t stop you. You’d just keep on rising.”
“But I can slow you down. I will slow you down. I have to slow you down.”
Wendy looks directly at the camera, her emerald eyes twinkling in the midway lights
“I’ll tell it to you plain, Tara Thunder. If I can’t beat you tonight, when I have virtually nothing to lose, then I’m going to have to deal with you again MUCH sooner rather than later, and this time, I could have EVERYTHING to lose.”
A small, crooked smile covers Wendy’s features.
“Does that sound like someone who doesn’t think you belong? Or does that sound like someone who knows what it’s like to go to hell and back in the ring, and is steeling herself up to do it once more?”
Wendy turns away, looking up at the Ferris Wheel awash in Midway lights.
“Just a few hours, Tara. Just a few hours and we will be in that ring, tearing the house down, just like we did in Seattle two years ago. But just remember, Tara. You may be fighting for pride. You may be fighting to get a monkey after your back. You may be even fighting for the inside track to challenge for the title at Sin & Sacrifice. But you are NOT fighting for your place here amongst the contenders. You proved that to everyone years ago. It’s just taken you this long to find your way in.”
Wendy looks back over her shoulder.
“Welcome home, Tara. I’ll see you in the ring tomorrow.”
Wendy turns and walks away up the midway, and the scene fades.
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