EPISODE 93: Doubt

[b]Tuesday April 19, 2011
City Street
Portland, Oregon
3:15 PM Local Time[/b]

The light turned red, and I slowed down, coming to a stop at the line. Putting one foot on the ground to steady myself, I quickly reached up and adjusted my helmet, wiping some dirt off my visor as I did.

Even though we had managed to bring my motorbike with me when we left Indianapolis a week ago, I hadn’t found time to go for a ride, as busy as Terrence and I were kept between our scheduled obligations, and travelling to them, I hadn’t had much time for anything, other than maybe a couple of minutes reading before falling asleep at night.

But today, this glorious Pacific Northwest day, I finally had a small window of time to myself, and I was going to make the most of it.

The light turned green, and I accelerated, careful to keep my balance, and watching out for any obstacles. The last thing I needed right now was to be getting myself hurt in a motorbike crash.

Merely thinking the word “crash” jolted me like a slap to the face, and I couldn’t help but direct my thoughts back to Terrence’s accident at Talladega just a few days prior. Even though he had walked away uninjured, as had all the drivers involved, the mental video projector in my mind kept replaying the crash over and over again,

I supposed it was one of those inevitabilities risks that came with the job. In professional wrestling, it was inevitable that sooner or later, you take a big move, and quite possibly knocked out in the ring. It was something that happened if you competed enough, and any wrestler that said it wasn’t something they dreaded was either crazy, or lying.

So too was it with racing, I figured. There wasn’t a driver in racing that hadn’t been in an accident before- most drivers got in several every year. Like taking a fall in wrestling, it was something that you dreaded, but couldn’t avoid over the long run. The best thing for it was to recover the best you could, and move on.

But all the confidence I had felt watching that race was gone. In the span it took for Terence to smack a spinning vehicle at one hundred ninety miles per hour, my confidence about this venture- both mine and my husbands, had plummeted.

I knew it was foolish to tie my in-ring success in with my husband’s on-track success. We were two seperate people, now in two seperate professions. Whatever Terrence did, I controlled my own destiny in FFW. But the disaster at Talladega had forced me to deal with a question I hadn’t wanted to, a question that couldn’t escape my mind.

What if I failed?

What if, after all the hype my manager had put out about me, and all the pressure I had put on myself, I fell flat on my face out there?

It was a ridiculous thought, wasn’t it? There wasn’t any reason I could fail here, was there? I had the tools I needed to succeed, I was a competent wrestler. All I needed was to get in that ring, and erase Charity Deas like I needed to erase these doubts from my mind.

I wasn’t going to take this for granted... I learned long ago that nothing ever came cheap in this business, and perhaps that was one of the secrets to my success- I simply knew it wouldn’t just happen.

Hard work and preservation paid off elsewhere. They would in Femme Fatale Wrestling, as well.

I smiled grimly as I began to accelerate, my motorcycle gaining speed as I went along the parkway.

I just had to prove it.


=======================================
Thurdsay April 21, 2011
The RV- Main Cabin
Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio
10:39 AM Local Time

[Ah, just what the FFW faithful needed to see today...]

[Daniel Pollaski’s chubby mug, plopped right in front of the camera]

[The Pollaskinator seems to be standing in the main cabin of the WhirlyBirdz’ RV, just in front of the hide-a-bed sofa that dominates the port side at the rear of the cabin. Pollaski’s standing, however, and oddly enough, has a guitar controller from Rock Band in his hands. This is made even more odd due to the fact that the 36” flatscreen television hanging on the wall at the back of the cabin is very clearly off.]

[Then again, Pollaski’s not exactly known for being normal, now is he?]

[Suddenly, the opening chord to “Hollywood Whore” by Papa Roach is heard, and Pollaski ‘strums’ it on his plastic guitar. He then leans forward, eyes closes and passionate, as he begins singing over Jacoby Shaddox]

#Charity Deaaaaaaas...#
#Losing to Wendy Briiiiiiieeeese...#
#I’m sorry but your career’s over....#

[The guitar intro begins to play, and Pollaski begins rocking out, milking the guitar for all he’s worth, and even banging his head a few times. It’s not the prettiest sight in the world]

[Suddenly, mercifully, the music stops, and Pollaski’s left looking even more like a doofus, clicking away on a plastic guitar controller with no sound to accompany him. The hits just keep on coming, as a now-familiar female voice is heard from off camera.]

Wendy Briese: “What in the blue HECK are you doing?”

[Pollaski gives the off-screen Wendy a look that could be very interpreted as ‘duh’.]

Daniel Pollaski: “I dunno. I thought maybe a little bit of mood music would help things...”

WB: “That’s... ‘music’?

[Wendy finally walks in front of the camera, giving her manager a look of pure exasperation. Pollaski feigns indignity]

DP: “Hey, I’ll have you know that song peaked at number THIRTY-SEVEN on the US Mainstream Rock chart.”

[Considering how overplayed it fuggin’ was, you’d have think it had been higher...]

[Anyways, Wendy doesn’t look too impressed]

WB: “I’m sure they’re very proud of themselves for that.”

[Pollaski, never daunted, merely shrugs]

DP: “Okay, fine. Here’s one that should be a little more familiar.”

[Pollaski goes acapella this time, once again closing his eyes, and this time bending his knees slightly and clenching his fist at his side, again in an attempt to make it look like he’s singing passionately. The overall effect is that he looks constipated]

#She’s never gonna win again...#
#Cause Charity Deas ain’t got no talent!#

[“Careless Whisper”, yo. But more in the lines of the Seether cover. Except a lot worse.]

[Unfortunately for Dan, the ‘musical’ act only draws a blank stare from his client. Pollaski looks over at her, and shrugs, as if saying “what?”]

WB: “You know, I’m not entirely sure why Charity seems to be the butt of so many jokes here in Femme Fatale Wrestling”

DP: “I don’t know. Probably because she’s the only member of the FFW roster who rides to the arena in a little yellow school bus.”

[Wendy shoots her manager a look that very clearly says ‘that’s not funny.’ Pollaski replies with a shit-eating grin that pretty much says ‘oh, yes it is!’. Wendy rolls her eyes, and sighs]

WB: “I think Charity Deas is a person to be admired.”

[A pause, and Pollaski looks at Wendy like she’s clinically insane]

DP: “Garoooooo?”

[It’s a grunting sound. Think a cross between Tim “The Toolman” Taylor and Scooby Doo]

WB: “Don’t give me that look. I’m serious. Did you know that the average age of the Femme Fatale roster is twenty-four point six years?”

[Pollaski arches an eyebrow, but replies in a complete deadpan voice]

DP: “No, I didn’t. That’s extremely fascinating. What’s your point?”

WB: “My point is that, most of the girls here also have at least a couple years of experience under their belt, too. Most women in wrestling today start in their late teens or their early twenties. But Charity... she’s thirty-five, and she’s trying to break into the sport. Do you have any idea how much courage that takes?”

DP: “Or a complete lack of intelligence. Which brings me back to the little yellow schoo-”

WB: “Cut it out. Most women have retired from wrestling by that point, and she’s just starting out. People can crack all the jokes they want about her, but that takes some serious guts. And I hope she makes it here, I really do.”

[Pollaski chuckles slowly, and shrugs]

DP: “Well, I know ONE way she can make it so she suddenly gets noticed...”

[Wendy laughs quietly, and smiles, but she shakes her head]

WB: “Well, I can’t be allowing that to happen. This is my debut match, and I have to win it if I hope to start establishing myself as a legitimate threat around here.”

[Pollaski’s voice takes on a sarcastic tone]

DP: “Well, you better watch out, Wendy. I don’t know if you realized this, but Charity is a DEAS. And this will be the year, decade, century... hell, even MILLENIUM of the Deas!”

[Wendy laughs quietly, and shakes her head]

WB: “Unfortunately, Charity and her brother place WAY to much emphasis on the importance of a last name. It’s great that she’s proud of her lineage, and of her brother’s accomplishments, but ultimately for her, they mean little. She can’t rely on her name forever- she has to find a way to gain recognition based on her own merit. And sometimes, in doing that- names like that can be a curse. Sometimes, all a name gives you is a set of unrealistic expectations you have no hope of meeting.”

[Wendy’s voice takes a tinge of bitterness, as if she’s reflecting on personal experience. But just as quickly, she manages to shrug, and it goes away]

WB: “And the truth is, when it comes to wrestling, so many people misunderstand what it takes to succeed in this business. Natural raw talent is nice, as is experience, high-end training, and knowledge. But knowing how to use those assets is far more important than having them. Hard work, dedication, willpower... those are far more critical traits in a successful wrestler. I don’t know if Charity has those qualities- you can’t tell after just a couple matches.”

[Pollaski chuckles, and shakes his head, suddenly amused.]

DP: “Speaking of which, did you see what happened to Charity at Breaking Point? How much you wanna bet that she comes on here blaming Hope for that...”

[Wendy shrugs, although she still continues to smile]

WB: “Well, it was unfortunate that Hope decided to make her presence at ringside like that, but ultimately, you watch that match, and I think we saw what many people expected to see. Charity seemed in over her head from the get-go, and she was obviously struggling against an experienced and talented woman like Crystal Hilton. She did her best to fight back, and she had her moments, but Crystal pretty much controlled that match from the opening bell.”

DP: “So I assume you think your contest with her is going to go the same way?”

[Wendy shrugs, and laughs softly.]

WB: “Well,I hope to get a similar result. Get an early advantage, keep up the pressure, and don’t let up until the bell rings. But that’s easier said than done, of course. I’m sure Charity’s watched the replay of the match, but I hope she’s not just focused on Hope’s distraction at ringside. That’s a loss that could very easily be used as a learning experience, and I’m sure Charity’s working on rectifying the mistakes she made in that contest. I should be facing a wiser, more controlled Charity Deas tonight.”

DP: “But I think its safe to say, this is going to be another ‘learning experience’ for Charity..

[Wendy pauses for just a second, and nods]

WB: “No match is ever won until that bell rings, but I’m feeling pretty confident about it. I think I’ve worked out a strategy that should end up in my victory. But I don’t anticipate it coming easy... Charity seems like she’s a fighter, she’s not one to give up. And if it does goes my way, and I am the victor I hope she doesn’t get discouraged. Sometimes it takes a while for it to click in this business. I should know- I lost seven of my first ten.”

[Wendy shoots Pollaski a self-depricating grin, although Pollaski doesn’t return it. Wendy suddenly looks concerned, and she reaches into her jeans pocket, pulling out her cellphone.]

WB: “Whoah... its almost eleven! We need to get going- we’ve still got a ways to go to get to Baltimore, and I’d like to be early for a change!”

[Pollaski nods, although a little reluctantly, and stretches, letting out a yawn.]

DP: “Yeah, you’re right. Terrence should be back from Subway any second, and off we go. Dammit, it’s my turn to drive, too.”

[Wendy smiles at her manager, not unsympathetically.]

WB: “Well, I better go rest up. I have a feeling I’m in for one heck of a night.”

[Pollaski takes his plastic guitar off, and goes to put it away, while Wendy turns her attention to the camera, and suddenly it fades to black.]