From the Private Journal of Wendy Briese
3-1-2015
WHEE!
I can’t even begin to think of another word for it, other than WHEE!
It took thirteen months- about seven longer than I’d hoped and expected. But I’m finally back on top. I’m finally the FFW Champion again. And it was amazing. I was amazing. The end of that match… it’s like everything slowed down, and little flashing lights were going off in front of my eyes telling me exactly what I needed to do. Do this! Do that! Go here! Wait for it… wait for it…
Victory.
To reach a pinnacle … both professionally and emotionally… well, you don’t get a lot of moments like that in your career… or lifetime for that matter. It’s why they need to be treasured. And I know I will treasure what I did last night, and what it meant, for the rest of my life.
I just hope Scarlett and Valerie understand what I’ve been trying to tell them about stepping up their game. I know I’m harsh… but it’s because I know what their potential is to be not just a “face” in this company, but a downright, absolute hero. Its just so frustrating that they’re not willing to step up, and lead this company like they were meant to. Someway, somehow, I’m going to make them realize this.
I think I’ve earned a few days of rest, recovery, and reflection. After all, when one completes a journey, especially a long, torturous epic one, they deserve at least a little time to enjoy the spoils!
…And then the work begins again.
Mika’s my first challenger, because of course the last woman I’d ever want to lose this title to has to be the first one to get a chance at it. But on the bright side, that means I can get her out of the way first, and then move on to the more enjoyable, fulfilling challenges in Tara, Crystal, and I can only assume Scarlett’s rematch sometime down the line. It’s a loaded schedule to be sure, but ask not for small challenges!
I don’t know when I’ll be defending against Mika, if it’ll be at Relentless or beforehand, but I do know that anything that happens beforehand is going to be overshadowed by Ten Femme Chaos at Relentless. 5 on 5, Team Cody against Team Isabella… winner stays loser goes.
I don’t know why Mr. Kincaid decided to do things this way. He could have let her be fired, and she would have been out of all our lives, and things would have been back to normal immediately. But instead he went for this showdown… we’ve gone from problem solved to everything being risked on one single match… one single fall. It baffles me… and terrifies me. There’s just so much here that can go wrong… Murphy’s Law hangs heavily in the air.
But I guess in the end, it’s not my job to question why Mr. Kincaid did what he did, because I’m sure he had good reasons for it. It is my job to ensure that in the end, he’s still here, he’s still my boss. That whatever his goals are, they’re the ones that are accomplished. Because he’s my boss, and he’s my friend, and ultimately, I trust him completely.
Not to mention the alternative is almost too much to bear.
It’s going to be a long next three months, I suspect. Three months of choosing sides, and alliances, and propaganda, and ultimatums, and showdowns. All with a gauntlet of FFW Championship defenses hanging over the whole thing.
Ask not for small challenges, indeed.
-Wendy
========
Monday April 13, 2015
4:12 PM Eastern Daylight Time
The Storm Shelter- Viewing Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
“Hehe, look at the expression on Tara’s face!”
Despite scoffing at her manager’s chuckle, Wendy had to admit the frozen frame of Tara Thunder, her elation of having just eliminated Crystal Hilton combined with the shock from the sudden ambush from Mika was certainly a… unique one, her expression caught in a tansition from triumph to shocked dismay. She didn’t need to unpause the video to know what happened next.
Neither did Pollaski. “But God, she’s gotten quick at springing that Soviet Burial on people.”
“She hasn’t tagged me with it yet.” Wendy said quietly, cringing inwardly at her temptation of fate.
“Good thing too, cause I’m not sure even your stubborn ass isn’t going to find a way out of it if she does.” Pollaski responded.
“We’ll see,” Wendy replied with a small smile, before standing up, stretching. “That’s enough tape for today. Too much of it makes my head spin. And if I’m not prepared for Mika now, I’m not going to be.”
“Fair enough,” Pollaski said, nodding. “A fair session tomorrow and Wednesday, just to make sure you’re peak physically, then a warmup and walkthrough Thursday morning to get you ready. Same fare as normal.”
“Sounds good,” Wendy replied, turning off the video player and screen. She glanced over at her case, where all the belts that she had won over the years sat. Six title belts sat on the shelf devoted to FFW- but only one of those was true and not a mere replica. With good fortune, she’d be returning that belt when she arrived back home Friday afternoon, and not another replica. She sighed, a tiny flutter of nerves setting in. That flutter was going to likely grow over the next few days.
“By the way,” she said, the thought popping in her mind. “We’re just over a month out from Relentless. I don’t know what’s planned for me schedule-wise after Mika, but I think its time we start getting ready for Ten Femme Chaos. Start pulling videos… see what you can make of everyone.” She paused. “I spent last years match in isolation getting my butt whooped. I’d rather not go through that again.”
“You still won though,” Pollaski reminded her.
“I’d like winning in slightly less painful ways that lets me be able to walk straight within a week of the match.,” Wendy said with a small smile “Besides, the other team got stupid in that match and screwed around, and it cost them. There’s a lot more at stake this time around- I don’t think any of them are going to be that foolish. I can’t afford to let a repeat happen…” she trailed off as she looked back at the now dark video screen. She had watched Camilla’s interview with her earlier that day, before the normal video session for Mika. And she planned to watch it every day until Relentless happened. It was probably unnecessary- she doubt she’d ever forget the words Camilla had spoken to her that night… or the pleading tone they had been made with. But she still watched it. Necessary or not, she was going to remind herself every day about what was truly the most important thing in her upcoming schedule.
Making sure everything was off, Wendy left the gym’s small viewing room, Pollaski following from behind, as they exited out the Storm Shelter into a bright blue spring day. Shielding their eyes against the glare of the sun, the two strolled down the gravel road, heading the short distance between the converted storage shed and the race track.
“Lookin’ good.” Pollaski commented, glancing over at the track. Indeed, the track had spent the better part of the past month being prepped for its annual reopening. All around the half-mile circuit, the walls gleamed white in the sunlight, the billboards freshly painted. Even the Figure-8 crossover section in the middle of the track had been paved over, so that it was like a cross-shaped black lake in the middle of the infield. Floating on the black lake was a utility truck.. a “cherry picker” which had a platform on the back that could be raised high off the ground to change the many lightbulbs that consisted of the stadium style lighting. The sign and light guy had been hard at work for two days now painstakingly checking every bulb in the complex, and replacing the ones that weren’t up to snuff. Wendy could see her husband standing beside the picker, looking up, and shouting something to the operator.
Cutting through a gate in Turn 1, Wendy crossed the track, careful not to roll her ankle as she climbed down the corner banking, before striding up one of the Figure 8 Lanes, leaving Pollaski behind as the bigger man took longer to navigate the not-so-gentle slope of the banking. As she approached the cherry picker, Terrence looked over, waving to her, and Wendy realized he wasn’t the only one standing there.
“Hey hon!” Terrence exclaimed, giving her a hug and kiss as she approached. “How was training?”
“Good,” Wendy replied, happliy returning the affection. “I’ll be ready to go when I board that plane Wednesday morning. Hello, Cassie.” She finished, turning towards the woman that Terrence had been talking to, and giving her a quick hug as well.
“Hey, Wendy!” The platinum blonde was grinning, a sense of excitement and accomplishment in her eyes. It had been a risk to make Theresa’s former babysitter the director of operations for the track, but Cassie had proven more than adept at the job, raising the track from a dilapidated wasteland to a functional facility in less than a year. And after a successful 2014, all signs pointed to an even better 2015.
“Did you get my e-mail about the setasides for FFW employees for tomorrow night? I’m not sure how many are actually showing up.”
“Yup!” Cassie beamed. “Already have them in the ticket booth. I’ll make sure the ticket girls know what’s going on when they get here tomorrow. We’re going to set them up just below the spotter nest. Good seats.” SHe paused, tapping her chin. “They’re not going to like break out in a massive brawl or anything, right?”
“I doubt it,” Wendy replied with a laugh. “Maybe the girls on the track, but we should have the security to put an end to that. But they’re wrestlers, not barbarians. They’ll behave.” Her brow suddenly furrowed, and she looked over at Terrence. “Um… weren’t you supposed to pick up Theresa from school?”
“I did.” Terrence said flatly. “She’s just-”
“HI MOM!”
At the sound of her daughter’s voice, Wendy looked around, frowning as she couldn’t see the eight-year old. Suddenly, the notion hit her,, and she turned back around, looking up.
“You let her go up in the picker?!”
“Yeah, I told her if she got an A on her Geography test, I’d let her go up. Rick says its okay, and she’s not getting in his way.”
“Don’t you think you should have discussed this with me first?” Wendy said, somewhat miffed. She turned her attention back up the picker. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay, Theresa?”
“Yes, mom,” came the flat reply. A beat… “Hey Dad, if I jumped, could you catch me?”
“Um… no,” Terrence responded, trying his best to ignore his wife’s amazing ability to both face palm and death-glare him at the same time.
“Aw, why not?”
“The fall would kill you,” Terrence said matter-of-factly.
“But…”
“SOrry, Terr-Bear. Your dad’s awesome, but not awesome enough to beat the laws of physics,” Terrence said apologetically. “But if you’re that eager… once you’re old enough, I’ll take you bungee jumping.”
“SWEET!”
“Don’t look at me like that,” Terrence scolded Wendy, making a ward as if to repel the even more intense glare he was getting. “I never said exactly when old enough would be!”
Wendy opened her mouth to respond, but found her husband being ambushed from behind as someone jumped on his back, covering his eyes with their palms. “GUESS WHO?!”
“Augh, what the hell?!” Terrence exclaimed in an irritated protest! “Geroff!” And with a skill reminiscent of his own days in the wrestling ring, he shrugged off his attacker, falling over off balance only to be caught by Wendy. Holding onto each other to keep from falling over, the WhirlyBirdz looked up to see…
“FIFI?!”
“Of course it’s me, sillies!” Fifi Calipari beamed at the Birdz, her teeth almost glinting in the bright sun. The brunette was every bit as perky as she had been back in Daytona that first week of the season. Wendy had only been to a couple of XFinity races since then, thanks to her own busy schedule, and those trips, she’d managed to avoid Fifi like the plague.
“Wha-what are you doing here? In our own privately owned race track? That’s closed at the moment?” the redheaded champion managed to standard out, noting with some satisfaction the dismayed- almost terrified look on her husband’s face. Evidently he didn’t like Fifi any better than she did.
“Well, sillies,” Fifi began (Wendy strongly suspected that she was going to eventually gain a Pavlovian reaction to punch someone in the face every time she heard the word silly) “Tomorrow night, this adorable little track is going to hold a go-kart race as the first challenge for Future Sight.”
“Future Shock,” grumbled Pollaski. “The show is called Future Shock. Future Sight was the forty-second Magic: The Gathering expansion that would introduce upcoming game mechanics-”
“Right,” Wendy cut Pollaski off. “We know about Future Shock. This is OUR track, and I’m the challenge host for the show. That doesn’t answer the question as to why YOU are here.”
“Well, the challenge for FFW Future Si-sh...whatever is RACING,” Fifi explained, as if she was explaining this to a kindergartner. “FFW Racing. And since I’m the Director of Marketing for FFW Racing… well, Arcanix Racing, of which FFW Racing is a subdivision… well, I should be here to work my magic!”
There was a long silence as Terrence, Wendy, and Pollaski stared at each other, no one able to come up with an argument to refute Fifi, while Cassie just stared in bewildered amazement, unsure of what was going on, and clearly not liking unexpected things happening on her watch.
“Well, then,” Fifi exclaimed, clapping her hands, apparently oblivious to the tension that was suddenly in the air. “I’m just going to set up some booths, and a few displays around here. Nothing TOO garish, don’t worry. But trust me, everyone will know that this is an FFW Racing event by the time I’m done!”
“But it’s not just a…” Cassie began weakly, but Fifi was already gone. “Who the hell is that?”
“Someone with Terrence’s racing team…” WEndy sighed. She looked over at her husband, and could sense the turmoil. He wasn’t any more happy about this than she was, but at the same time, refusing Fifi could put him at odds with Arcanix racing not even a quarter of the way into the season, and for a rookie racer who sat just twenty-second in the standings to infuriate his bosses… that’d be suicide. “Just… keep an eye on her, okay?” Cassie didn’t exactly seem placated by the response, but it was all she could give.
“EW… what’s SHE doing here?” Theresa’s voice was directly behind Wendy. Evidently the light changer had lowered the cherry picker while they were all distracted.
“Be nice, Theresa” Wendy said, without turning around.
Even if she didn’t entirely feel like it herself.
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