EPISODE 95: Cyber-Warrior

Wednesday April 27, 2011
Pike Creek Aparments- Apartment 146
Indianapolis, Indiana
11:29 PM Local Time

“So, were we planning on driving to Salem and back each day for Terrence’s race or were you?.. Okay. So you want me to find a gym in or around Salem. Yeah, I’ll do that tomorrow. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Yeah. Rings at Eleven. Goodnight.”

I could hear Wendy’s voice wishing me a good night as well, but I was already pulling my Droid away from my ear, my thumb finding the button to end the call. Stretching lazily, I slid my phone onto my end table, and plopped down on my sofa.

Another day in the life of Daniel Pollaski complete.

I turned the television to ESPN, where they were running highlights of the days NBA and NHL playoff games, and picked up my laptop. Time to do one last final cruise of the internet before going to sleep.

I found myself fairly disappointed by the assortment of material. None of the new quizzes on Sporcle were all that intriguing, and Drudge was just getting more and more depressing by the day. Even ESPN, on the eve of the NFL draft, just didn’t seem to have anything worth sinking my teeth into.

Ah well, nothing left to do than check Twitter, then maybe watch a couple episodes of Red vs Blue before turning in.

Twitter was just as disappointing as anything else on the internet tonight, and I quickly scanned the latest tweets, finding absolutely nothing of any value whatsoever. I was just about to close TweetDeck when a new Tweet suddenly popped up.

FFWSupergirl: what a day what a FUCKIN' day...

My lips curled up in a sneer. Excellent. Robbyn Helmsley.

About five minutes after signing up for Twitter, I pretty much figured out that the most entertaining aspect of the Social Networking site was the absolute endless opportunities it presented to make fun of people. And there were few people on the planet who were easier and more enjoyable to make fun of than the former Evolution Champion.

Tonight might just have some level of entertainment value to it after all.

Except the more and more I typed, the more annoyed I got. It wasn’t that Robbyn was actually firing back with any good shots of her own- girl didn’t have enough brains to do that. I don’t know what it was that was grating on me. Maybe I was still agitated from being pulled aside by TSA earlier in the day. Maybe I was still cramped and sore from the flight back from Seattle. Maybe I was just bipolar or something.

Or maybe it was just all so mundane. I mean, calling Robbyn Helmsley a pathetic, attention seeking whore, in actuality, could only hold so much entertainment value. No, I needed something bigger, something better, something truly damning.

And then it hit me. I had been watching old Rori Snyder promos, trying to get a feel for her mindset (Not much of one, it turned out. Girl was just as dumb as her cousin), and I had remembered something about her uncle- Robbyn’s father, taking her under his wing and training her to wrestle.

The Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland had NOTHING on the grin that had come over my face. I knew exactly how to bring this little TweetWar to another level. I began typing...

@FFWSupergirl I have never met anyone so needy for attention in my entire life. I can understand it considering your parents loved your cousin more than they did you. But please... it's just irritating.

I paused. I knew what had happened to Robbyn’s parents, and this constituted as the mother of all cheap shots. It was as low a blow as anyone could make, and it would change everyone’s perception of me, and probably Wendy too. Maybe it wasn’t a good id-

Ah fuck it. ENTER!

The moment I typed it in, the feed got completely silent. It was almost as if some cyberbomb had gone off, and the survivors and witnesses were still in too much shock to react over it. I chuckled to myself as I envisioned Robbyn Helmsley, staring wide mouthed at her computer screen, tears welling up in her eyes.

She may be Supergirl, but I was mother-fuckin’ KRYPTONITE!

So, naturally I kept going, pouring salt, vinegar, rubbing alcohol, anything I could think of, into that wound.

It was an adrenaline rush, the kind you got when you kicked a homeless guy in the face for asking you for change. It was invigorating. It was liberating. None of this sunshine, lollipops and unicorns shit that Wendy was into. THIS was how you fuckin’ shot on someone. THIS was what it was all about. THIS was what happened when people stopped being polite, and STARTED BEING REAL!

And then, in my feral glee over ruthlessly ripping into someone over with my mad keyboard skillz, I got the one tweet that will forever define this evening as EPIC MOTHERFUCKING WIN.

DivaofExtreme: @Pollaskinator That's enough. You're being really harsh.

That was Isabella Pazzini.

That’s right. ISABELLA PAZZINI, one of the most brutal, sadistic, mean-spirited women in women’s wrestling history, actually said I was too cruel. The woman who had taken a bladed staff to Rori Snyder was actually BEGGING me to stop this. I tossed my laptop aside, and stood up, beginning to pace. The inner-beast in my chest let out a triumphant roar, and I almost did the Chuck Lidell victory pose right in my own living room.

Because I, Daniel Pollaski, was WRECKING PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET!

I turned back to my computer, snarling in ferocity. I wasn’t done yet. If I was going to let my thoughts out, I was going to let them ALL out. Fuck Robbyn. Fuck Rori. Fuck that whole backwoods family. I was gonna go get a camera, and I was going to...

Nah, fuck it. That was too much work. A simple column would provide enough of an opportunity for me to make sure the world knew what the Helmsley family was really like.

I stalked off towards the kitchen, ready to make a midnight snack. I was gonna need it- it was gonna be a long night after all.

Some little part in the back of my mind was telling me that I should stop right now. That this was uncalled for, across the line of any human decency. That there would be consequences for my actions. But at that moment, I didn’t care. For once in my life, I wasn’t going to be neutered by some idealistic expectations of my wrestler. I was going to be Pollaski.

Damn the consequences. Full speed ahead.

========================================

The following column was posted on WhirlyBirdz.com at 2:31 AM Eastern Time on April 28, 2011. It was removed at 8:17 AM Eastern time on the same day. However, copies of the column were later posted on several pro-wrestling news sites.


Hey kids.

Yeah, it’s been a few months since my last column, but what can I say? Some busy things have been going on in our lives. Namely, Terrence’s return to auto racing, and Wendy’s decision to join Femme Fatale Wrestling. Between all the traveling, orientation, acclimation, and ultimately, ass-kicking, its been a busy few weeks for the Pollaskinator.

Now that things were starting to settle down, I was actually planning on bringing back my unofficial Power Rankings column (now tentatively called the Fatal X... and still probably going to change) after the Breaking Point show from Oakland on Saturday. But recent happenings have driven me to the keyboard a little bit earlier than planned.

For those of you who follow Twitter (and dear God, consider yourself lucky if you don’t), earlier tonight I had a bit of a dust-up with one Robbyn Helmsley, and, to a lesser extent, her cousin Rori Snyder. If you want all the messy details, feel free to check out the feed. But here’s a general synopsis.

1. I signed on.
2. Robbyn Helmsley signed on.
3. Robbyn Helmsley annoyed me.
4. I completely and utterly wrecked her.

Now, I know that arguing on the internet is a lot like running in the Special Olympics- even if you win, you’re still a retard. However, in my defense, it WAS eleven thirty at night, and I had absolutely nothing better to do.

Some might also say that what I said on that feed might have constituted being a bit on the “harsh” side. Some might even say that what I said was just downright uncalled for and cruel. Those people may be right. In fact, they probably are.

Here’s the catch: I don’t really care.

I’m pretty certain that I’m not the only person in the world who’s tired of the daily drama spoonfed to us by the Helmsley/Snyder cousins. I just did a quick peek... did you know that those two girls have combined for over ELEVEN THOUSAND TWEETS? Seriously. And within a couple days, It’ll be over twelve.

And so what are these girls saying with all this copious amount of tweeting they’re doing. Well, a general synopsis of Robbyn Helmsley’s 8,500 tweets can be broken down into...

1. I love Belladonna
2. But I really love Cody Kincaid, but he chose that bitch Scarlett over me (Note: Good call there, bossman! Otherwise you’d have ended up with more baggage than a Samsonite factory)
3. Isabella Pazzini still wants me.
4. But all this doesn’t make me a whore! Honest!
5. Casey Magnusson is a jerk.
6. Oh, by the way. My parents are dead. Boo Hoo. Pity me.

Meanwhile, Rori’s even more limited...

1. Actually, Casey loves me very much and I’m happy we’re married. Despite all evidence to the contrary.
2. What’s playing on my Ipod.

Rinse. Wash. Repeat. Day after day. Week after week. Month after month.

If it turns into year after year, Pollaski’s gonna have to choke a bitch. Or two.

It makes me wonder, however, just how these two can actively train and prepare for their coming matches when they spend all day hammering out one hundred forty character ‘status updates’ and changing their profile picture every couple hours.

Oh wait, I just remembered Rori Snyder’s match record, and everything is explained. At least she has that win over Destiny Loveheart to hang onto!

It’s made me realize that the name “Future Shock” is appropriate for FFW’s talent development show. Seems to me that if people like Rori Snyder are, in fact, the future of women’s professional wrestling, sticking my finger into the nearest light socket actually sounds like an appealing prospect.

The problem is, my own client (that would be Wendy Briese, for those of you not paying attention) fails to grasp what a threat a person like Rori Snyder is to this business. Wendy’s quick to condemn the ‘unethical’ people, like Isabella Pazzini, as people who cheapen and degrade this business, but she fails to realize that idiots like Rori are just as detrimental, if not more so. And that’s why I felt morally obligated to write this column.

Because yes, Rori Snyder is an idiot.

Okay, so this girl is apparently a four-time state Wrestling Champion from High School. I’m sure she’s proud of that, even if she hasn’t exactly managed to get those skills transfered over into the big leagues yet. But maybe it’s just me, and I really hate to play fashionista here, but you would think that someone with an amateur wrestling background, who was proud of that, would come out dressed in something a little more appropriate for, y’know, WRESTLING. Like, gee, I don’t know, a singlet? Or for God sakes at least a pair of tights? Not something that makes her look like an extra from a Disney Channel Original Movie?

Of course, she comes out to a song from a Disney Channel Original Movie. Think on that for a second. Let it gestate, and then join me in asking this question...

WHY THE FUCK ARE PROFESSIONAL WRESTLERS WALKING TO THE RING TO DISNEY SONGS?

Honest to God, if ANYONE starts coming out to “Friday” by Rebecca Black, I WILL be forced to kill them for the good of humanity.

Speaking of killing, I’m sure we all remember now that Isabella Pazzini tried to do just that to poor Rori. Over the past couple of days, I heard several people (namely Wendy) wondering why so much more of a deal was made over Twisted Path’s attack on Tiffany than Izzy’s attack on Rori. The answer is painfully simple.

Everyone knows that the moment Tiffany recovers, Traci Loveheart and Victoria Summers are dead. I mean heart stopped, eyes open, tongue lolling out, flies starting to buzz, D-E-A-D.

After Rori Snyder’s recovery, what’s in store for Isabella Pazzini? Let’s hear it from Rori herself!

From my Twitterfeed, April 17 (before Wendy discovered that she would be facing Rori)...

Wendy: @RoriSnyderFFW Even so, I hope that you get your chance to avenge yourself against Isabella. You're the one who most deserves that chance

Rori: @WendyBriese I couldn't waste my time on Pazzini. What she did was wrong, but it's for a reason...

Wendy: @RoriSnyderFFW And what reason is that?

Rori: @WendyBriese simple, to get me over my fear of blood... I've seen blood and not passed out now for about a weekish...

Well, that’s a regular Hallmark moment, isn’t it? Isabella wasn’t being a monstrous bitch to get at my tag team partner, she was just helping me out with my hemophobia!

Personally, I can’t wait until THAT treatment starts showing up on episodes of “Dr. Phil.”

Okay, time out here for a reality check. Even if Rori Snyder was the most forgiving person on the planet, anyone with a brain should have seen the implications that attack could have had for her career. Namely, she had carte blanche to call out Isabella Pazzini for a match.

But no, we couldn’t waste our time on Isabella Pazzini, could we? Because, you know, getting to face the NUMBER ONE CONTENDER TO THE FFW CHAMPIONSHIP IS A FUCKING WASTE OF TIME.

Go ahead. Facepalm. Or headesk. Or both. I’ll wait.

I’m not sure if it was cowardice or stupidity that caused Rori to throw away such a golden opportunity for her career, but well, if she’s content to spend her life jerking more curtains than her husband jerks off to pictures of other women, well, then I guess more power to her.

But I feel obligated to warn Rori here. Facing Wendy in the ring is every bit as dangerous as facing Isabella. Wendy’s as nice a girl outside the ring as you can get. And once she’s in the ring, she plays by the rules as well as anyone in pro wrestling. But that doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous. Wendy does not go easy on people- she views holding back as a sign of disrespect. And I’ve seen Wendy dislocate limbs. I’ve seen her bust people open. I’ve seen Wendy knock people unconscious and send them to the hospital with a concussion. It’s not intentional- she doesn’t take liberties, but that’s what happens when you’re in a combative sport like this.

Rori’s not rolling around on a mat like she did in high school. She’s not facing a couple other greenhorn rookies who are still trying to learn their way around a sport. She’s in a full-scale professional wrestling WAR, against a seasoned veteran who brings her A-game every single match and competes with the highest level of intensity possible. If Rori comes to that ring expecting anything else but the most physically painful encounter of her life (and yes, that includes the Izzy incident), then this match is going to more resemble a Mortal Kombat Fatality.

At least then we’ll be certain whether or not Rori’s over her fear of blood, so at least there’s that plus.

So let’s get direct here: You’ve got one week, Rori. One week until you learn what professional wrestling really is. One week until you begin to wish that the doctors had waited another week to medically clear you. One week until your worthless hide is steamrolled into oblivion by the hottest new commodity FFW has to offer. Just take solace, as you’re lying there broken, that there wasn’t a damned thing you could do to prevent it it.

Although even if there was, I doubt you’d have the brains to figure it out.

Polla. Out.