Saturday September 27, 2014
2:17 PM Eastern Daylight Time
Detroit Marriott- Room 619
Detroit, Michigan
To answer the question of concern- yes. Yes the RV was inhabitable that night. Pollaski, about 10 pounds lighter (EW!), at least had the decency to open the windows of the place, airing it out. Combo that with the exciting end of the race, where Terrence dodged a large accident en route to finishing 10th, and it’s safe to say everyone slept like a baby that night.
Anyways, here we are, one week later, with Wendy Briese sitting in a hotel room, dressed in a black dress, her hair tied back in it’s usual ponytail. She’s smiling, but it’s a very weak smile. Even so, in no doubt she’ll start talking and tell us what a great day it is-
“I hate the name Sin & Sacrifice.”
Lolwaitwhat?
“I know, it sounds weird, almost ungrateful considering this was the pay-per-view I finally won the FFW Championship. But it’s honestly my least favorite name for FFW Pay Per Views. Well… actually it was Full Frontal, but thankfully we got rid of that. I love the names Relentless and Unstoppable. Chaos Theory and Anarchy are appropriate, given the nature of their events. One Night Stand… I miss Cold Blooded, but whatever. But Sin & Sacrifice… never liked it. Never will.”
“People will probably dismiss that as my inner Catholic talking. WE CAN’T HAVE SIN IN WRESTLING… and it’s not that. It really isn’t. There’s sin in all aspect of life, sports included. Heck, there’s members of my congregation back home who are convinced this entire sport is a sin. I disagree of course, but this isnt’ about that.”
Wendy sighs and shakes her head, closing her eyes for just a second”
“No, my problem with it is that these aspects are brought into prominence. That they’re somehow essential, presented as two sides of the same coin of what it takes to succeed in this business. Sin is the easy way. The Mika Demidov and Infamous way, where the low road, the cheap shots, the outside interference are treated as virtues. As necessary tools. When you canpull off the cheat to win, that’s ‘outsmarting’ your opponent.”
“And sacrifice. The hard way. The idea that to be successful, you have to give things up. Your body. Your time. Your family. Maybe even your sanity. The idea that the more you’re willing to give up, the more successful you will be.”
“And they’re both so overrated it’s nauseating.”
Wendy sighs again, and blows out a weak raspberry, fidgeting a little in her position.
“Sin is overrated, because in the end, it’s NEVER easy. There’s always a price, and sooner or later, the time will come to pay. The concept of ‘getting away with it’ is only a temporary one, and whether it’s Judgment Day, things finally catching up to you, or finding yourself facing an angry opponent you’ve screwed in the past, we always are forced to pay for our sins in the end.”
“But you all knew I would say that. I’ve been fighting ‘sin’ in wrestling from day one, so it’s not a surprise. The real issue, is this whole concept of sacrifice. The hard part. But the difficulty isn’t in the casting aside, honestly, when you resolve to give up something… it becomes surprisingly easy to do so. No, the difficulty in sacrifice… is knowing when to stop. People throw away too much for no reason, and destroy their lives over a myth. Read Sullivan comma Stephanie for an example.”
“See, sacrifice is linked with desire. The more you want something, the more you’ll be willing to pay for it. You hear it all the time when people talk about matches. Who wants it more? Who’s willing to go the extra mile? Who’s willing to make the necessary sacrifice? It’s what we tell ourselves when we’re in the gym. If we don’t push ourselves to do one more set of weights, fifteen more minutes on the treadmill, one more round of sparring, we won’t win. But if you want it more… you’ll win.”
Another shake of the head, although this time there’s an element of annoyance.
“It’s a lie. And actually a rather insulting one. Because just as I refute this stupid notion that Mika somehow beat me and retained her title because she’s smarter, I absolutely REFUSE to believe Tara, or Scarlett, or Mika, or ANYONE beat me because they WANTED it more. And to hell with ANYONE who said I didn’t desire to win enough in ANY match I’ve EVER participated in! And that goes doubly so for any idiot who’s ever uttered the words ‘Wendy Briese won’t do what it takes to win’.”
“You want to know how I know that this whole myth about desire is just that? A myth? Because if it wasn’t, I’d be FFW Champion right now. I’ll go further than that. If matches were strictly determined on desire, I’d have been FFW Champion for the past year. Maybe even longer. There is NOBODY who wants this more than me. And I don’t care if people take dispute with that, or find it controversial in any way shape or form, because it’s the TRUTH. And I know it’s the truth, and I will stand behind it until my dying day!”
“Nobody goes all out every single match the way I do. Nobody. Whether it’s Pay Per Views or offhand tag matches or Charity Deas, no one has given every single bit of herself in this ring as I have over the past few years. It hasn’t mattered if there’s been an FFW Championship on the line, or if it was just a match cobbled together to fill space on the card and provide entertainment, I have busted my BUTT every single time. And when the show is over? I’m there for the fall out, whether I was on the show or not. I’m talking about events, giving my opinion, and promoting the next show. NOBODY on this roster does it more consistently than I do!”
Wendy’s intensely emotional right now, blinking her eyes rapidly, beating on her chest, as if she’s just throwing off what she’s got on it.
“Some people have called this meddling. Being nosy. I should focus solely on myself, keep my nose in my own area, and never say anything about Isabella’s treatment Kate or Infamous’s transgressions or the Social Elite treating everyone like dirt. I should mind my own business. You know what? ITS ALL MY BUSINESS. It’s all EVERYONE’S business! We’re all in this company together, and every single match SHOULD matter to every single one of us, whether or not it’s in our own area! We SHOULD all cringe at the way Mika Demidov treats the FFW Championship. We SHOULD be angry when the Rudos screw a team like Roaring Spirit over in a despicable way. We SHOULD be concerned when a woman like Lightning is sent to the hospital. And we SHOULD be furious when a referee has her arm SNAPPED callously by one of our colleagues. It’s ALL our business because it ALL AFFECTS US!”
“And honestly? If it were me, I’d want someone to say something. If I got screwed out of a huge match- and here’s a hint: EVERY match in FFW is huge- I’d like a little bit of support and indignation on my behalf. If I got viciously beaten and sent to the hospital, I’d like someone caring enough to ask about my condition. And if I got stabbed in my back by someone who thought was my friend, I’d certainly want someone caring enough to call them out on it.”
There’s a definite tone there that implies, ‘hint hint’
“My opponent tonight… she’s pretty much the opposite. Valerie Lamb is the master of MYOB. Unless she’s obligated to stand in front of a camera and say something, you’ll barely ever hear a peep out of her. Oh, we did see her tweeting in the aftermath of being screwed by Infamous, but that seemed more out of her obligation to Alysson and Gabrielle than anything else.”
“Let’s be honest. Val’s track record of avoiding confrontation- unless she’s flat out obligated to deal with it- is almost spectacular. When I stole Isabella’s bellhammer to keep her from whacking Val with it, it took FOUR MONTHS before Val actually came out and said that she wasn’t happy about it, because it somehow made her look bad. Coincidentally, it was when I was facing her that this news came out, and she was obligated to talk about me. In that same promo she said she wouldn’t seek a rematch if she lost the title… because apparently not trying to win your title back is some sort of a virtue? Apparently, because when I beat her again in the rematch she got despite not asking for- it was ME who was practically begging for her to get another chance because Camilla screwed her over. She shrugged and said she respected why she got betrayed, and chastised me for being ‘judgmental’ about it. I wish I was joking.”
“Then we got another wonderful delayed reaction bout of furious indignation, when Val threw an out and out TANTRUM about comments I had made four months earlier, going so far as to invent entirely new words like “fedtalking” in her long-awaited outrage. Never said a single word of indignation before that, and then she’s forced in front of a camera, and BOOM. But at least I suppose I should be lucky she actually bothered to remember who I am, because two weeks later she was ranting on Triple Threat- the trios team of Casey Atherton, Jenny Williams, and Crystal Hilton- only she was relaying information more accurate to Sudden Impact- Serafina DeCaro, Kinsey DeCaro, and Claire Black. She seemed hell-bent on ignoring Stacey until it became obvious she couldn’t. And now, here we are, Number One Contender’s Match for the FFW Championship, and she hasn’t said a WORD about it in the past two months. That will change today, of course, thanks to contractual obligations, and I’m sure we’ll be getting a good eight month’s worth of complaining about me. I’m expecting it. I’m one of the few people in this company Val actually seems to have bothered to get an opinion about.”
Wendy brushes a strand of red hair out of her face, her eyes are shining, although she’s kept her voice level.
“So I don’t’ want to hear ANYONE say Val wants this more than me. The proof is in the pudding. I’m dedicated to this company no matter what. Val… whenever she has to be. Don’t ask me why that is, although maybe it’s because Val’s not all in here like I am. Val has a rough night, she can just hop on a plane and fly to Las Vegas, and try her luck there. Me? This is it for me. I lose here, that’s it, and I’m stuck with the result. There’s no consolation company for me to fly off to.”
“And yet, despite all that, here we are, in the exact same place. On the same ledge overhanging the same precarious cliff, fighting in the same match for the exact same opportunity. The myth of desire, indeed! And what really galls me about this is that Val, despite looking like sometimes she just woke up, remembered she had a match, mumbled a few words in front of the camera, and gone to the arena, she’s coming off wins in her last two pay-per-views, against impressive competition in Tara and Stacey. Meanwhile I’ve lost my last two, questionably against Mika and decisively against Tara. So she’s just scaled this cliff, up to this ledge, and I’ve just tumbled down to it. Now we collide, and one of us is going to be flying off into oblivion.”
Wendy looks down at the floor, closing her eyes, her teeth gritted.
“It’s not going to be me.”
“No, it’s not going to be me, because I REFUSE allow it to be me. I’ve been working, oh yes, it’s been HARD WORK, but I’ve also been working smart. I’ve watched my last few matches over and over, and I’ve dissected them down to the tiniest detail. I’ve been DEDICATED to finding what went wrong, and I’ve come up with a pretty good idea of where I failed, and how I’m going to change it up. The Wendy Briese you see tonight, it’s going to be something you’ve never seen from me before. Oh, there will still be FAIR PLAY, but it will be hard play. Tonight is going to make you step back, scratch your head, and ask yourself… this is really a Wendy Briese match?”
“I hope that’s good enough for you, Val. I know how much you HATE facing the same opponent over and over. You complained about it with Starla, and you complained about it again with me in back in January. You much would rather have a VARIETY in your opposition than a meaningful run towards the top of the card, so your fourth time in the ring with me in the last seven pay-per-views has to be irritating. I’ll face someone a hundred times if it meant the FFW Championship, but that’s one of the places we differ. But don’t worry. This match is going to be different. A LOT different.”
Wendy’s tone drops, and she glares intently at the camera.
“For starters, you may have noticed that there’s no starry eyed quality this time. I’m not thinking about how spectacular this match is going to be. No, if I can make this match a five-minute steamrolling, I will. Not saying it’s going to happen, it probably won’t, but it won’t be for a lack of effort on my part. This is not going to be a dream match. No, this is going to SUCK. For one of us, this is REALLY going to suck, as we go tumbling off that cliff into also-ran oblivion.”
Her voice softens just a bit.
“I know that sounds harsh, Val. And I know It’s not YOUR fault I let Mika slip through my fingers, or that I’m Isabella’s new favorite target to abuse her power on. But I’m frustrated nonetheless, and considering you haven’t exactly shown any aversions to either happening, it almost seems like tacit approval, even if it’s you just trying to avoid another confrontation, because confrontations are hard.”
“And maybe I’m a bit jealous, Val. Jealous that you can somehow manage to ice-skate through this company and end up in the exact same place I am, while for all my effort, it feels like I’m rowing a boat across the ice sometimes. But we’re in a results based business, not an effort based one, and you do have the results to back up your claim to be here.”
A small chuckle.
“I just wish results mattered in the Femme Fatale of the Year voting. I really wanted to win that, and two wins over you and an undefeated year weren’t enough. It was probably my best chance, too. Wrestlers who are 1-3 in PPV’s don’t win the biggest annual award in wrestling. Now I’m the one bringing up old stories months down the road. Ah well, there’s enough logs on the fire now. One more isn’t going to hurt."
Another look down, as if Wendy is catching herself, and sounds a bit ashamed. She sighs.
“I do sound cynical, I guess. A bit jaded. But you know what, it’s a bit tough to have your heart stomped on in the middle of the arena, and you see the thing that embody everything you love about professional wrestling desecrated by a woman who just spat on everything you hold dear. You may think it was clever, but I see it for what it was. Disgusting.”
“And tonight, Val, I don’t see you as a friend, as tenuous as our relationship is. I don’t see you as a legend or a hall of famer. I don’t see you as the woman I predicted would be one of the futures of this business, if only she could get her head on straight. I see you as an obstacle. A formidable one, but one that absolutely has to be removed, along with anything else that’s unfortunate from standing between me and the biggest prize in women’s wrestling today. A prize that I had to watch squirt out of my grasp two months ago, and that I WILL not rest until I claim it again.”
And Wendy looks up, her eyes narrowed again.
“And it’s not going to come down to desire. It’s going to come down to ability. It’s going to come down to strategy. And above all else, it’s going to come down to preparation. And, most importantly, it’s going to come down to execution. And I have all those things tonight, Val. More than you can expect. The fans are going to be surprised, but you… you are going to be surprised most of all.”
“Because I’m not like you, Val. I don’t ‘roll with the punches’, or ‘take it as it comes’. I’m not reactive by nature, and Im tired of reacting to things too late. So tonight, Val, I’m going to do what you had the chance to do eight months ago, but waffled, because you were more concerned about appearances than results. Tonight, I’m going to take advantage of my second chance, and score my spot in the main event at Anarchy.”
Wendy stands up, glaring down at the camera, before turning to walk away.
“Tonight… I’m going to take the first step in righting a wrong.”
And away she goes.
[/i]
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