Friday February 18, 2011
Embassy Suites- Suite #1219
Santa Monica, California
3:13 PM Local Time
[Blackness. Just Terrence Thompson’s voice]
“February 18, 2001”
“A date neither I, nor any other fan of stock-car racing, will ever forget. It is a date that hangs over the racing world just as heavily now as it did ten years ago. A date, pardon the term, that lives in infamy.”
“February 18, 2001. The day we lost Number Three.”
[Fade up]
[RV’s still getting fixed, so we’re back in the same hotel room that Wendy’s promo emanated from earlier. Terrence Thompson sits alone in the exact same chair. However, he’s not smiling or grinning, but looking rather somber. He’s wearing a black screen printed t-shirt, with a picture of a black car with a white number 3 in red outlines on it. Behind the car is a checkered flag, while off to the side stands a man in a racing firesuit, GM Goodwrench racing cap and a pair of sunglasses resting over a face that houses a bushy mustache.]
[Any auto racing enthusiast would recognize the man on Terrence’s shirt as the legendary Dale Earnhardt, Sr.]
“Let me set the scene here. It’s the waning laps of the 2001 Daytona, the biggest race of the year in stock car racing. And during those final laps, there’s no one in the world more proud at that moment than Dale Earnhardt. He himself was running third, in his always recognizable black number 3. Ahead of him, in the 8, was his own son, Dale Earnhardt, Jr, in the first race of just his second full season on the top NASCAR circuit. And leading the race was the number 15, driven by his friend Michael Waltrip. A man who had started four hundred and sixty-two races in his career, and hadn’t managed to win a single one of them. A man that Earnhardt had just hired as a driver, because he felt he could make him a winner.”
[Terrence pauses, as he tries to remember the story the best way he can tell it.]
“Around and around the Daytona tri-oval they went, the three cars, chased by a field desperate to keep up. But everytime another car tried to break into the top three, shatter the three leaders, Earnhardt managed to block them out, and keep it between them three. As the white flag came out, Waltrip and Junior began to pull away, while Earnhardt tried desperately to hang onto that third place finish.”
“And then, in the final turn of the final lap of the biggest race of the season, it happened.”
[Another pause, and Terrence takes a deep breath]
“Earnhardt tried to make one last block, but this time, he was too late. He clipped the car, and suddenly veered across the track, striking the wall at the dreaded ‘one o’clock angle.’ The rest of the field roared by, but the men Dale was blocking for couldn’t be caught. Michael Waltrip, the man no one else but Dale Earnhardt thought could win a race, took the checkered flag, while Dale’s son finished second. But that’s not what made headlines the next day.”
[Another pause, and this time, there’s a catch in Terrence’s voice]
“Dale Earnhardt, arguably the greatest auto-racer in history, seven-time NASCAR Champion, winner of seventy-six races, the so-called Intimidator, was dead.”
[Terrence snorts, and shakes his head, offering a shrug before looking back at the camera.]
“Now why am I telling this story? After all, outside the sport, people seem to view NASCAR as little more than a bunch of inbred redneck country bumpkins turning left all day, while a larger bunch o inbred redneck country bumpkins look on and watch while drinking beer. Why would I tell an auto-racing story about a man I unfortunately never met in a wrestling promo?”
“Because today, the tenth anniversary of Earnhardt’s death, serves as a poignant reminder of just how fragile and fleeting life can be.”
[Terrence grimaces, and nods silently]
“Everything can be going perfect, and in the blink of an eye, and a sudden reversal of fortune, its gone. We can’t predict them, we can’t even prepare for them. We just have to accept the inevitability that any second, ANY second, something can happen, and we’ll be no more.”
“That’s why its so important to take advantage of the opportunities we get in our short lives. We don’t know what the future entails, we only have the power to deal with the present. And right now, in the present, I’m just a couple days away from competing for the World Title at the Great Panda Bash. In my line of work, there are no opportunities bigger than that.”
[Terrence looks up at the camera, and shrugs as if he doesn’t know the answer to his next question]
“How many more of these opportunities await for me? I’m a month removed from my thirty-second birthday, and every year that passes me by, the likelihood that I will be past my physical prime increases. That prime comes and goes quickly for professional wrestlers. All of us knows that this sport can be hell on our bodies. How many alumnus of this sport are barely able to walk by the time their forty? How many are dead by fifty?”
“So far, I’ve been lucky. I’ve done a good job of taking care of myself, and I’ve managed to avoid major injuries. I got a hell of a scare last week, but even then, there was little doubt in my mind that I would be medically cleared to compete by the time the Bash came around.”
“But still, it makes you wonder. How many more years do I have in this sport? How many more times will my name appear on the marquee? How many more times will I be granted an opportunity to seize a belt and call myself champion?”
[Another pause, this time longer, as Terrence looks away pensively, before drawing his attention back to the camera]
“I don’t know. Nobody does. I could have dozens more opportunities awaiting me, or I could be on my last one. Only as time unveils the future to us, will my fate become clear.”
[Terrence leans forward just a bit, his eyes looking at the camera]
“And that’s why, Belladonna, you can rest assured that I’m taking this match VERY seriously.”
“This is the third time we’ve faced Belladonna. And all three times, your song has remained the same. I’m cocky. I’m arrogant. I overlook you and Hayley and don’t take you seriously. But let’s stop and think for a second, and let me ask you a question.”
“After that bell rings, when the hell have I ever given you the impression that I don’t respect your talent or ability?”
[Terrence scoffs, and the edge of his lip curls up, although more in a sneer of defiance than an actual smirk]
“See, Belladonna. I know there’s a time and a place for everything. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again- if they’re going to make me sit my ass in front of a camera and talk about my wrestling matches, I’m going to have fun with it. If I feel like cracking a joke, I’ll crack a joke. If I feel like telling a story, I’ll tell a damned story. If I feel like making flippant remarks just to see if I can get under my opponents skin, then that’s exactly what the hell I’m going to do. And if I feel like being serious, like I am today then I’ll do that too.”
“But whatever I say, whatever I do, once I get to that ring, I’m just as businesslike as anyone else in wrestling, and even moreso when there’s a title on the line.”
[Another scoff, and Terrence shakes his head in disbelief]
“You know Belladonna, I’m amazed that a ‘fun-lovin’ free spirit’ such as you, especially one as successful as you are, can’t figure out the difference.”
“Do I rub some people the wrong way? Probably. Do I care? Not at all. It Dale Earnhardt himself who once said ‘I don’t care if they cheer or boo me, just so long as they ain’t quiet.’”
[Terrence smiles just slightly, and looks proudly into the camera]
“When it comes to Terrence Thompson, people aren’t quiet. Some out there like my dedication and hard work, and they root for me. Some out there can’t stand me, and think me an irritating loudmouth, and they root against me. But when “Gasoline” begins to play, and I make my way down that ramp on Monday night, there isn’t going to be a quiet person in the arena.”
[The smile disappears, and Terrence again is looking intensely into the camera]
“So let me lay it all out for you Belladonna. Monday night, I’m challenging you for your title. That places the burden of victory on ME, and that’s a burden that I’m more than willing to bear. Because what you call arrogance and cockiness, I call believing in myself and my ability. I believe that I can weather whatever you throw at me. I believe that I can keep up with your speed and reflexes. And I believe that I can control this match, and force YOU to be reactive, instead of being forced to react myself.”
“And most of all, I believe that when the match is over, and all is said and done, than I will be the one standing, getting his hand raised, and the title being snapped around my waist.”
[One last hard smile]
“Because I also believe that you, Belladonna, haven’t even seen a fraction of what Terrence Thompson is capable of.”
Saturday, February 19, 2011
EPISODE 80: Icky-Leaks
Wednesday February 16, 2011
The RV
Westbound Interstate 10, MP 220; Riverside County, California
2:34 PM Local Time
“Daddy! I have to go to the bathroom!”
I couldn’t help but smile as my husband let out a low growl of frustration, his teeth clenched as he gripped the RV’s steering wheel just a bit harder. “Theresa, we left the restaurant fifteen minutes ago! Why didn’t you go then?”
“I didn’t HAVE to go then!”
Considering we had asked her four times at the restaurant, I could understand my husband’s frustration about the matter. But then again, after the freezing weather in Oklahoma destroyed the RV’s water system, the realization that we didn’t have a working bathrooom anymore had hit us pretty hard. I suppose it was an indication of just how spoiled we were- after all, most families didn’t have the luxury of being able to drive a motorhome around the country, and had to resort to rest stops, restaurants, and gas stations But the loss of convenience took some time to get used to, especially for poor Theresa.
Back up front, Terrence was sighing in exasperation as he pushed the buttons on the RV’s built in GPS system. “It’s gonna be about half an hour before I can stop, Terr Bear! You’re just going to have to hold it until then.”
“But I have to go NOW!”
Theresa’s voice was starting to enter whining mode, and I looked back at her, trying my best to offer a sympathetic smile. Then I glanced back at Terrence. “Are you sure you can’t stop sooner?”
Terrence irritably gestured out the windows. “We’re in the middle of the Mojave Desert, hon. Yes, I’m sure. The next town is Desert Center. She’s just going to have to hold it.”
I grimaced, and looked out the window at the small mountain range running along to the north of us. The desert was beautiful countryside, to be sure, but there was something haunting about the desolation. And I had a feeling that this Desert Center was going to be much like the other desert towns we’ve visited- little more than a few houses and a gas station, a veritable modern day Oasis.
I turned around and looked back at Theresa again, who was sitting on the couch, sulking. I again tried to muster a sympathetic smile. “Try and think of something else hon. Why don’t you read a book? We’ll be there before you know it.”
Theresa glumly nodded, and reached next to her on the couch, where a small stack of books sat. She picked up one of her favorites- a picture book we had picked up in Niagara about famous waterfalls around the world.
“Not that one!”
Theresa looked up at me, again turning pouty. “Why not?” she sulked
“Just trust me, Theresa. That’s the last book in the world you want to be reading right now.”
Theresa set the book down, and picked up another one, this one about trains. As she read, I glanced a look at the other two riders in the back of the RV. Cassie was asleep, curled up as best she could while wearing her seatbelt, her head slowly bobbing with the swaying of the RV. Pollaski was reading some fantasy novel, although he had looked up, silently laughing with amusement at Theresa’s predictament. I couldn’t help but be irritated by that. After all, the general consensus was that it was Pollaski’s fault that we had no water system.
Pollaski caught my dirty glare, and quickly sobered, doing his best to offer an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry about that, by the way.”
“So does that mean you’re going to pay for it?” Terrence suddenly snapped, although he carefully kept his eyes glued to Interstate 10.
“Well I...” Pollaski waffled, before finally deciding to ask. “How much is it gonna be anyways?”
“I don’t know,” Terrence replied, although he was seething as he did. “From the looks of things, about ten.”
“TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS?”
“Yup,” Terrence growled.
“Um... I don’t have ten thousand dollars.” Pollaski said, now pale.
I couldn’t help but smile. We had great insurance on the RV, and Terrence had already filed a claim, so his threats about making our manager foot the entire bill were idle ones. Still, I’m sure the thought of beating ten grand out of our manager was definitely an appealing one to my husband right now.
Pollaski looked as if he wanted to say something more, but at that moment, his phone emitted some hideous-sounding ringtone, almost like a dying cat. Pollaski grabbed his phone, and looked at it, grimacing. Then he unbuckled himself, and began walking towards the front of the RV, fighting against the motions of the road.
Considering how Terrence felt about him at the moment, it was a fairly brave move, putting himself in punching distance. But my husband only glowered at Pollaski, probably knowing how unwise it would be to start a fight while operating a moving vehicle at 80 miles per hour. Pollaski flashed another apologetic smile, then looked over at me.
“I thought you might wanna know. They announced Ariel was out for the Great Panda Bash. Darren Hughes is taking her place.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. Last Sunday at X3W’s Revelations had been a roller-coaster of a ride. My ladder match against Madman Szalinski had been nothing short of brutal, with Szalinski doing everything in his power to destroy me, including trying to choke me out using the rung of a ladder. But I had fought back, and when all was said and done, I was the one clutching the title in my hands when it came down. It had been an exultant, emotional moment. Finally... FINALLY after five years of frustration, I had a World Championship belt to my name.
But all that emotion, all that joy, had evaporated when I looked up at the video screen, and saw a screaming Ariel Shadows being hauled out the door by a masked figure. Part of me had hoped that it had all been just a bad dream. That my desperate phone calls weren’t answered due to a battery problem. That I would show up in Los Angeles for the Great Panda Bash, and there would be Ariel, ready to try another one of her infernal pranks.
But this announcement confirmed it. Ariel Shadows wouldn’t be spending the Great Panda Bash facing the likes of Dozer and Loba. Ariel Shadows would be spending the Bash, and every other day, tied up and alone, wondering if anyone was going to be coming for her. Having been kidnapped myself, and held tortured in a dungeon five years ago, I knew the terror involved with being placed in such a situation. I could only hope that Ariel’s captor was more... accommodating than Mandrake had been.
I wanted to help her. I wanted to walk right into that room untie her, and beat whatever monster did this to death with my own two fists. But there wasn’t a damn thing I could do, other than hope that some clue would come up as to her whereabouts. Since it happened at a wrestling show, I was certain that the motive behind the kidnapping was wrestling related. Maybe, maybe some sort of a clue would come up, either in CPW, or X3W.
It was all I could hope for, because outside of that, I was frustratingly impotent.
Pollaski saw the emotion on my face, and he reached out,and grabbed my hand, gently squeezing it. Even Terrence was looking at me with some sort of concern. I knew that tears were running down my cheeks, but I didn’t bother to wipe them away.
“I’m sorry,” Pollaski said in a low voice. “I just thought you should know.”
I nodded. “I just... I just hope she’s okay.”
“I’m sure she is,” Terrence spoke up, although his eyes had gone back to the road. “She’s a tough girl, hon. Just like you.”
I nodded, and now tried to wipe away my tears with my sleeve. “I’m just afraid for her.” I sniffled heavily, then tried to put on a brave smile. “Whoever did it wants something, either from me or Szalinski. They’ll come forward soon enough.”
Pollaski nodded, although I thought it was more to appease me than out of any agreement. But nonetheless, I hoped I was right, because God help Ariel if I wasn’t...
“It’ll be okay,” Terrence said, also trying to reassure me.
“Um...” a small voice suddenly sounded from the back, and Pollaski and I turned around to look. Terrence’s eyes were still on the road, but I could tell he was listening too.
The guilt on Theresa’s face was plain as day. “I don’t have to go anymore...”
As tempting as I could tell it was for my manager to burst out laughing, I think he knew that doing so would result in instant death at both of our hands. I shook my head and sighed, disappointment evident. “Oh, Theresa..”
Terrence, for his part, gestured at a passing mile marker (197), and growled through clenched teeth. “Are you kidding me? We were FIVE MILES AWAY!”
I smiled grimly. “Well, better take the exit anyways.”
======================
Thursday February 17, 2011
Embassy Suites- Suite #1219
Santa Monica, California
9:54 AM Local Time
“So apparently, I just got ‘aced”
“What in the blue HECK is that supposed to mean?’
[So, one quick change of clothes, and a very thorough cleaning of the RV’s couch later, and the WhirlyBirdz were back on the road, headed towards Los Angeles. After checking into a hotel, Terrence headed off for the nearest RV center to see what he could do about fixing the water system. Hopefully it’ll be done by the time Zoos over. The Birdz have a lot of driving to do yet!]
[Nonetheless, we open our scene in a fairly nice-looking hotel room. Wendy Briese is seated in a small chair, wearing a pale blue shirt and a pair of black slacks. Her flame-red hair is in it’s customary ponytail, and she’s smiling at the camera, but the small bags under her eyes indicates that she’s definitely tired from the events over the past couple of weeks, and more than just a little sad.]
“I suppose I should start off by offering my condolences and apologies to the Cherrybombs, who were disqualified from our match last week through no fault of their own. It was a great, fiercely competitive contest, and it could have gone either way until it got wrecked. Wrecked by two individuals who havent’ quite grasped the virtues of being patient. I hope the next time Terrence and I get into the ring with such a great tag team, that we’ll be able to have the match proceed to a proper conclusion.”
[There’s definitely a trace of irritation in her voice as Wendy looks at the camera.]
“So this week, at the Great Panda Bash, I face off against one of those impatient individuals. Ace Andrews, a man who has had success both at the tables in the casinos, and in the wrestling ring. A cocky, arrogant individual who believes he’s God’s gift to women.”
“Speaking as a woman, I’m left wondering just what exactly God’s return policy is.”
[A small, sarcastic smile]
“Mr. Andrews, I suppose I should welcome you to Catholic Panda Wrestling, but from the looks of things, it seems you’ve already become rather well-acquainted with the place. If you and your partner Terry Marvin had joined CPW in the hopes of competing against a couple of the best tag teams in the world, well, then you came to the right place. It’s nice to see the tag division heating up again after the unfortunate departures of the Double Dragons- as much as I respect the Cherrybombs and Steely Vengeance, it would be unfortunate if we were the only three championship-quality teams in the company.”
[Wendy shakes her head, the frustration and irritation evident]
“Unfortunately, the two of you have seemed to have come to the conclusion that the Teaming Panda division is easy pickings for you. That all you need to do is reach out your arms, and you’d rake in the belts like you do chips after a winning hand.”
[Wendy let’s slip a short chuckle.]
“If that’s the case, boy did you guys pick the wrong fed to join.”
“This might not be the largest tag team division in all of wrestling, but there isn’t an easy match to be had here. Steely Vengeance may have their unusual quirks, but there is power behind those two. The Cherrybombs have consistently lived up to their name, for what they lack in size, they more than make up for in explosiveness. And I doubt there’s a wrestling tandem in the world that has better teamwork and chemistry than the WhirlyBirdz. And you two honestly think you can walk into this company and dominate?”
[Another shake of the head]
“If the little stunt you pulled at the last Zoo was to put us on notice, you were way too late. The Syn City Syndicate was marked as potential threats to our titles from the moment you signed your contracts, and even more so after that impressive victory over Scavenger and Tough Eagle. All you ever did by hitting Terrence and I with those chairs was irritate us. I don’t like being attacked from behind by cowards, and I CERTAINLY won’t stand for matches I’m competing in being disrupted by ANYONE.”
[Interesting to note which of those two annoys her more... seriously]
“So I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before you do get an official chance at our tag team championships. Terrence and I won these belts in our very first match here, so we have no qualms about facing a new team. And we’re overdue for our first defense. I’m sure one was to be lined up for us this week at the Great Banda Bash, but Terrence likely threw all those plans into disarray when he won that battle royal.”
[Small shrug]
“So I guess it’s up to me, to represent my team and family in this singles competition. This week, its a torch I’m more than glad to bear. Ace, I’ve been dealing with egotistical, chauvinistic jerks such as you for my entire career, and if there’s anything that I derive some vindictive satisfaction from, it’s shutting disgusting loudmouths such as yourself up.”
[‘Disgusting loudmouth.’ Another gem from the Wendy Briese insult factory!]
“Ace, put as many chips as you want down on the table, but you’re already drawing dead, and I have absolutely no intention of folding. You and Marvin have talent, and you’re certainly a threat to this division, but you’re not anywhere near the dominant alpha-types you think you are. And after I’m done with you, and Hayley beats your partner, you and Marvin are going to have a lot more to worry about than who’s catchphrase you use to sign off.”
[Wendy’s glare hardens for just a second, and she smiles grimly]
“And you’ll also have a greater respect for patience, and a greater respect for your CPW colleagues.”
[And fade]
The RV
Westbound Interstate 10, MP 220; Riverside County, California
2:34 PM Local Time
“Daddy! I have to go to the bathroom!”
I couldn’t help but smile as my husband let out a low growl of frustration, his teeth clenched as he gripped the RV’s steering wheel just a bit harder. “Theresa, we left the restaurant fifteen minutes ago! Why didn’t you go then?”
“I didn’t HAVE to go then!”
Considering we had asked her four times at the restaurant, I could understand my husband’s frustration about the matter. But then again, after the freezing weather in Oklahoma destroyed the RV’s water system, the realization that we didn’t have a working bathrooom anymore had hit us pretty hard. I suppose it was an indication of just how spoiled we were- after all, most families didn’t have the luxury of being able to drive a motorhome around the country, and had to resort to rest stops, restaurants, and gas stations But the loss of convenience took some time to get used to, especially for poor Theresa.
Back up front, Terrence was sighing in exasperation as he pushed the buttons on the RV’s built in GPS system. “It’s gonna be about half an hour before I can stop, Terr Bear! You’re just going to have to hold it until then.”
“But I have to go NOW!”
Theresa’s voice was starting to enter whining mode, and I looked back at her, trying my best to offer a sympathetic smile. Then I glanced back at Terrence. “Are you sure you can’t stop sooner?”
Terrence irritably gestured out the windows. “We’re in the middle of the Mojave Desert, hon. Yes, I’m sure. The next town is Desert Center. She’s just going to have to hold it.”
I grimaced, and looked out the window at the small mountain range running along to the north of us. The desert was beautiful countryside, to be sure, but there was something haunting about the desolation. And I had a feeling that this Desert Center was going to be much like the other desert towns we’ve visited- little more than a few houses and a gas station, a veritable modern day Oasis.
I turned around and looked back at Theresa again, who was sitting on the couch, sulking. I again tried to muster a sympathetic smile. “Try and think of something else hon. Why don’t you read a book? We’ll be there before you know it.”
Theresa glumly nodded, and reached next to her on the couch, where a small stack of books sat. She picked up one of her favorites- a picture book we had picked up in Niagara about famous waterfalls around the world.
“Not that one!”
Theresa looked up at me, again turning pouty. “Why not?” she sulked
“Just trust me, Theresa. That’s the last book in the world you want to be reading right now.”
Theresa set the book down, and picked up another one, this one about trains. As she read, I glanced a look at the other two riders in the back of the RV. Cassie was asleep, curled up as best she could while wearing her seatbelt, her head slowly bobbing with the swaying of the RV. Pollaski was reading some fantasy novel, although he had looked up, silently laughing with amusement at Theresa’s predictament. I couldn’t help but be irritated by that. After all, the general consensus was that it was Pollaski’s fault that we had no water system.
Pollaski caught my dirty glare, and quickly sobered, doing his best to offer an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry about that, by the way.”
“So does that mean you’re going to pay for it?” Terrence suddenly snapped, although he carefully kept his eyes glued to Interstate 10.
“Well I...” Pollaski waffled, before finally deciding to ask. “How much is it gonna be anyways?”
“I don’t know,” Terrence replied, although he was seething as he did. “From the looks of things, about ten.”
“TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS?”
“Yup,” Terrence growled.
“Um... I don’t have ten thousand dollars.” Pollaski said, now pale.
I couldn’t help but smile. We had great insurance on the RV, and Terrence had already filed a claim, so his threats about making our manager foot the entire bill were idle ones. Still, I’m sure the thought of beating ten grand out of our manager was definitely an appealing one to my husband right now.
Pollaski looked as if he wanted to say something more, but at that moment, his phone emitted some hideous-sounding ringtone, almost like a dying cat. Pollaski grabbed his phone, and looked at it, grimacing. Then he unbuckled himself, and began walking towards the front of the RV, fighting against the motions of the road.
Considering how Terrence felt about him at the moment, it was a fairly brave move, putting himself in punching distance. But my husband only glowered at Pollaski, probably knowing how unwise it would be to start a fight while operating a moving vehicle at 80 miles per hour. Pollaski flashed another apologetic smile, then looked over at me.
“I thought you might wanna know. They announced Ariel was out for the Great Panda Bash. Darren Hughes is taking her place.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. Last Sunday at X3W’s Revelations had been a roller-coaster of a ride. My ladder match against Madman Szalinski had been nothing short of brutal, with Szalinski doing everything in his power to destroy me, including trying to choke me out using the rung of a ladder. But I had fought back, and when all was said and done, I was the one clutching the title in my hands when it came down. It had been an exultant, emotional moment. Finally... FINALLY after five years of frustration, I had a World Championship belt to my name.
But all that emotion, all that joy, had evaporated when I looked up at the video screen, and saw a screaming Ariel Shadows being hauled out the door by a masked figure. Part of me had hoped that it had all been just a bad dream. That my desperate phone calls weren’t answered due to a battery problem. That I would show up in Los Angeles for the Great Panda Bash, and there would be Ariel, ready to try another one of her infernal pranks.
But this announcement confirmed it. Ariel Shadows wouldn’t be spending the Great Panda Bash facing the likes of Dozer and Loba. Ariel Shadows would be spending the Bash, and every other day, tied up and alone, wondering if anyone was going to be coming for her. Having been kidnapped myself, and held tortured in a dungeon five years ago, I knew the terror involved with being placed in such a situation. I could only hope that Ariel’s captor was more... accommodating than Mandrake had been.
I wanted to help her. I wanted to walk right into that room untie her, and beat whatever monster did this to death with my own two fists. But there wasn’t a damn thing I could do, other than hope that some clue would come up as to her whereabouts. Since it happened at a wrestling show, I was certain that the motive behind the kidnapping was wrestling related. Maybe, maybe some sort of a clue would come up, either in CPW, or X3W.
It was all I could hope for, because outside of that, I was frustratingly impotent.
Pollaski saw the emotion on my face, and he reached out,and grabbed my hand, gently squeezing it. Even Terrence was looking at me with some sort of concern. I knew that tears were running down my cheeks, but I didn’t bother to wipe them away.
“I’m sorry,” Pollaski said in a low voice. “I just thought you should know.”
I nodded. “I just... I just hope she’s okay.”
“I’m sure she is,” Terrence spoke up, although his eyes had gone back to the road. “She’s a tough girl, hon. Just like you.”
I nodded, and now tried to wipe away my tears with my sleeve. “I’m just afraid for her.” I sniffled heavily, then tried to put on a brave smile. “Whoever did it wants something, either from me or Szalinski. They’ll come forward soon enough.”
Pollaski nodded, although I thought it was more to appease me than out of any agreement. But nonetheless, I hoped I was right, because God help Ariel if I wasn’t...
“It’ll be okay,” Terrence said, also trying to reassure me.
“Um...” a small voice suddenly sounded from the back, and Pollaski and I turned around to look. Terrence’s eyes were still on the road, but I could tell he was listening too.
The guilt on Theresa’s face was plain as day. “I don’t have to go anymore...”
As tempting as I could tell it was for my manager to burst out laughing, I think he knew that doing so would result in instant death at both of our hands. I shook my head and sighed, disappointment evident. “Oh, Theresa..”
Terrence, for his part, gestured at a passing mile marker (197), and growled through clenched teeth. “Are you kidding me? We were FIVE MILES AWAY!”
I smiled grimly. “Well, better take the exit anyways.”
======================
Thursday February 17, 2011
Embassy Suites- Suite #1219
Santa Monica, California
9:54 AM Local Time
“So apparently, I just got ‘aced”
“What in the blue HECK is that supposed to mean?’
[So, one quick change of clothes, and a very thorough cleaning of the RV’s couch later, and the WhirlyBirdz were back on the road, headed towards Los Angeles. After checking into a hotel, Terrence headed off for the nearest RV center to see what he could do about fixing the water system. Hopefully it’ll be done by the time Zoos over. The Birdz have a lot of driving to do yet!]
[Nonetheless, we open our scene in a fairly nice-looking hotel room. Wendy Briese is seated in a small chair, wearing a pale blue shirt and a pair of black slacks. Her flame-red hair is in it’s customary ponytail, and she’s smiling at the camera, but the small bags under her eyes indicates that she’s definitely tired from the events over the past couple of weeks, and more than just a little sad.]
“I suppose I should start off by offering my condolences and apologies to the Cherrybombs, who were disqualified from our match last week through no fault of their own. It was a great, fiercely competitive contest, and it could have gone either way until it got wrecked. Wrecked by two individuals who havent’ quite grasped the virtues of being patient. I hope the next time Terrence and I get into the ring with such a great tag team, that we’ll be able to have the match proceed to a proper conclusion.”
[There’s definitely a trace of irritation in her voice as Wendy looks at the camera.]
“So this week, at the Great Panda Bash, I face off against one of those impatient individuals. Ace Andrews, a man who has had success both at the tables in the casinos, and in the wrestling ring. A cocky, arrogant individual who believes he’s God’s gift to women.”
“Speaking as a woman, I’m left wondering just what exactly God’s return policy is.”
[A small, sarcastic smile]
“Mr. Andrews, I suppose I should welcome you to Catholic Panda Wrestling, but from the looks of things, it seems you’ve already become rather well-acquainted with the place. If you and your partner Terry Marvin had joined CPW in the hopes of competing against a couple of the best tag teams in the world, well, then you came to the right place. It’s nice to see the tag division heating up again after the unfortunate departures of the Double Dragons- as much as I respect the Cherrybombs and Steely Vengeance, it would be unfortunate if we were the only three championship-quality teams in the company.”
[Wendy shakes her head, the frustration and irritation evident]
“Unfortunately, the two of you have seemed to have come to the conclusion that the Teaming Panda division is easy pickings for you. That all you need to do is reach out your arms, and you’d rake in the belts like you do chips after a winning hand.”
[Wendy let’s slip a short chuckle.]
“If that’s the case, boy did you guys pick the wrong fed to join.”
“This might not be the largest tag team division in all of wrestling, but there isn’t an easy match to be had here. Steely Vengeance may have their unusual quirks, but there is power behind those two. The Cherrybombs have consistently lived up to their name, for what they lack in size, they more than make up for in explosiveness. And I doubt there’s a wrestling tandem in the world that has better teamwork and chemistry than the WhirlyBirdz. And you two honestly think you can walk into this company and dominate?”
[Another shake of the head]
“If the little stunt you pulled at the last Zoo was to put us on notice, you were way too late. The Syn City Syndicate was marked as potential threats to our titles from the moment you signed your contracts, and even more so after that impressive victory over Scavenger and Tough Eagle. All you ever did by hitting Terrence and I with those chairs was irritate us. I don’t like being attacked from behind by cowards, and I CERTAINLY won’t stand for matches I’m competing in being disrupted by ANYONE.”
[Interesting to note which of those two annoys her more... seriously]
“So I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before you do get an official chance at our tag team championships. Terrence and I won these belts in our very first match here, so we have no qualms about facing a new team. And we’re overdue for our first defense. I’m sure one was to be lined up for us this week at the Great Banda Bash, but Terrence likely threw all those plans into disarray when he won that battle royal.”
[Small shrug]
“So I guess it’s up to me, to represent my team and family in this singles competition. This week, its a torch I’m more than glad to bear. Ace, I’ve been dealing with egotistical, chauvinistic jerks such as you for my entire career, and if there’s anything that I derive some vindictive satisfaction from, it’s shutting disgusting loudmouths such as yourself up.”
[‘Disgusting loudmouth.’ Another gem from the Wendy Briese insult factory!]
“Ace, put as many chips as you want down on the table, but you’re already drawing dead, and I have absolutely no intention of folding. You and Marvin have talent, and you’re certainly a threat to this division, but you’re not anywhere near the dominant alpha-types you think you are. And after I’m done with you, and Hayley beats your partner, you and Marvin are going to have a lot more to worry about than who’s catchphrase you use to sign off.”
[Wendy’s glare hardens for just a second, and she smiles grimly]
“And you’ll also have a greater respect for patience, and a greater respect for your CPW colleagues.”
[And fade]
Thursday, February 17, 2011
EPISODE 79: Bursting Point
Monday February 14, 2011
Cedar Ridge Memorial Hospital- Fourth FLoor Hallway
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
10:31 AM Local Time
I learned a lot of things from my stay at Cedar Ridge Memorial Hospital.
I learned that in pro-wrestling, it doesn’t matter if you’re signed to a company or not. If you’re there, and a guy doesn’t like you (or, more specifically, doesn’t like your wife), you better be on your guard.
I learned that no matter how strong and tough I think my wife is, she’s still capable of surprising me. The poise she had controlled in guiding our family through this small crisis was absolutely remarkable.
I learned that regardless of what people say, Drew Carey is a SHITTY host of the Price is Right.
But, most importantly of all, I learned that, even if you got the bad luck of getting a male nurse, and you’re the most heterosexual guy on the planet, simply yanking out your own catheter tube is NOT the proper solution to the dilemma.
I mean, seriously, that may have hurt worse than the concussion.
But alas, they finally took one last MRI, decided that my concussion was no longer ‘kinda-sorta-semi-life-threatening’, and gave me my walking papers. After five days bedridden, I was a free man.
Luckily, Wendy had left me some clothes before she had taken the rest of the family to Dallas. It woulda sucked driving four-hundred miles in some bare-ass hospital gown. Especially as cold as it had been.
“Mr. Thompson!” I heard one of the nurses saying as I trudged towards the elevator. I was eager to put this hospital, and Oklahoma City in general, as far behind me as possible, but nonetheless, I stopped, and turned around, waiting for the nurse to catch up to me.
“Here,” slightly out of breath, she handed me a slip of paper, and I looked at it. “The doctor wanted me to give you this prescription for pain medicine.”
I looked at the prescription. Neurontin. I grimaced, then nodded my thanks to the nurse, who walked away. For a second, I considered just throwing the prescription away- I tried to stay away from anything stronger than Ibuprofin unless absolutely necessary. But I held on to it. My ribs were still sore, and this may be one of those times.
Besides, if anything, I could always crush a couple up and slip it into Pollaski’s Lucky Charms in the morning. That was always surefire entertainment.
I was a bit apprehensive as I approached the RV. The weather in Oklahoma had been freakishly cold all week, to the point where the RV had been rendered uninhabitable. Pollaski had managed to get it moved into the hospital parking lot, and then he, Wendy, Theresa, and Cassie had all piled into my Charger, and taken it to Dallas for the week. The plan was for me to drive the RV down, pick the whole family up, and we’d continue on to Los Angeles.
Something wasn’t right, though. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it’s just a connection I’ve always had with my cars. Whether it was on the racetrack, or in my driveway, if there was something wrong, I could just sense it, like the car was silently crying out to me for help.
That, and there were three MASSIVE icicles hanging out from beneath the RV.
I quickly got to the RV, and climbed the stairs to the inside. It was cold and dark, the mark of a massive vehicle that had been sitting idly for several days. I could still see my breath, which was odd, because I couldn’t outside. With a shrug, I began to walk through the cabin, looking around to see if everything was okay.
I got about four steps before I slipped, and fell hard.
I gasped as my bruised ribs screamed in agony from the fall, and even teared up a bit as I seethed against the pain. Slowly, I managed to roll onto my stomach, and tried to climb to my feet, but I slipped, and fell again.
“Mother.... fucker....” I wheezed, as again I tried to get to my feet. Eventually I gained my feet again, and I realized what was wrong.
Everything was covered with ice. The floors, the walls, the ceiling. Everything. What the fuck happened?
Then it hit me. Despite me telling him to do so at LEAST five times, Pollaski had forgotten to turn off the RV’s water system, and drain the tanks. The pipes had frozen, and they had burst.
And now I owned a half-million dollar ice skating rink on wheels.
=====================================
Monday February 14, 2011
The RV- Cockpit
Interstate 35 near Ardmore, Texas
9:14 PM Local Time
[Okay, so maybe that wasn’t exactly the way Terrence had intended to spend his first few hours of freedom, but it is what it is, right? So six hours of scraping and mopping, Terrence finally managed to get all the water and ice out of the RV, patch the holes in the fresh, grey, AND blackwater tanks, and get the King Aire in some semblance of working order.]
[Meanwhile, the pipes under the kitchen sink and in the shower both have massive holes in them, so it looks like the Birdz are going to be roughing it for a few days. Lord can only imagine the horrors that will be involved if the Thompson family’s forced to take their showers at truck stops.]
[Anyways, the scene opens in the cockpit of the RV, which is finally road worthy, and heading towards Dallas on the first leg of its journey to Los Angeles. As usual, the camera is mounted on the dash at the front, looking back at the RV, which is empty save for Terrence Thompson. For his part, the Mechanical Mayhem is more jovial than he has any right to be, considering that Lord knows what the price tag is for a new RV plumbing system. But maybe its that Terrence now has a rare treat- an open road drive by himself across the southern Great Plains.]
[Or maybe he’s just been imagining burying his manager in the New Mexico desert]
“Well, look who just got medically cleared!”
“I know, did anyone out there honestly think that I was going to sit out the Great Panda Bash? My first ever Catholic Panda Wrestling Supershow, and I’m gonna watch it from a hospital bed?”
[Terrence chuckles to himself, and shakes his head. No way, no how]
“Still, it did kinda suck that within twenty-four hours of becoming the #1 Contender to the Undisputed Panda title, I’m shipped off to the hospital with a concussion because one of my wife’s rivals wanted to get under her skin. A definite setback to be sure, but one I can certainly overcome. Of course, now I have some serious training and preparation time to make up, but you can rest assured that when I hit that ring Monday night, Belladonna is going to be in for the fight of her life.”
[Terrence flashes a grin at the camera, then turns to check his mirrors.]
“So just a week ago, at the fourteenth episode of Zoo, I did exactly what I said I was going to do. I stepped in that ring, I took matters into my own hands, and I forged my own path in this company. The best Catholic Panda Wrestling had to offer stood in my way, and not one of them could bring me down.”
“Okay, so maybe it was just seven people. But don’t look at me! I didn’t make the entry list! Hell, maybe I scared ‘em away!”
[Another grin at the prospect of the locker room cowering in fear of the almighty Thompson. Even if it is more or less a fantasy]
“Either way, I’m sure that there are some people that are less than happy about what transpired. Those seven unfortunate souls, for starters. I mean, Liam’s got the biggest ninja-troubles since Shredder himself, and if I hadn’t snapped my attention back to Gowan when I did, then maybe things might have ended up differently. But them’s the breaks.”
[small shrug]
“But I’m sure our illustrious owner, Missus Valerie Belmont, isn’t exactly jumping with glee either. Can you imagine. Me, Terrence Thompson, scourge of the Belmont clan, main eventing HER supercard? But what’s going to be best of all, is the expression on her face when I pin Belladonna one, two, three in the middle of the ring, and become the champion of HER company. That could explain the stipulation she suddenly just dropped on us earlier today, but I’ll get to more of that later.”
“And of course there’s the dodo himself, Aoraki. I’m sure I have my detractors around here, and they can bash my ‘attitude’ if they want, but Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! For a guy who’s biggest match involved him beating up my manager, he’s turned into one pretentious little asshole.”
[Another small chuckle, and Terrence shakes his head, too amused at this point to be irritated]
“Now, I know, winning a battle royal, especially one with eight people in it, is hardly the most dominating way to earn yourself a title shot. But you know what? It was an opportunity. If Aoraki wants to play it safe, and spend the big show taking on both members of Furry Vengeance, more power to him. I’m the kinda guy who goes for whatever opportunity he can get, so when Cammie and Val dangled the carrot, I grabbed it, and took a great big juicy bite. And I gotta tell you, from here, its pretty damn sweet.”
[Short pause, and Terrence’s eyebrows arch]
“Or maybe I just ingested a lethal amount of poison. After all, you know which poison tastes the sweetest?”
[Belladonna, yo]
“So once again, I’ve got myself a dance with the great Belladonna. I hope Little Miss Trixie isn’t sick of me yet, because this is going to be my fourth match since I signed my CPW contract, and the third that has Belladonna as one of my opponents.”
“Now, both times we faced previously, I walked out on the winning team, although neither victory was what you’d exactly call overly decisive. Of course, that’s going to have to change this time. There ain’t gonna be anyone else to pin, and winning by disqualification amounts to just about the same thing as losing.”
[A small grimace, which disappears quickly]
“So ultimately, this is probably going to end up a game of cat and mouse, with me playing the role of the feline. Belladonna is quick, agile, and damn good at playing keep away. But one problem with that... in order to beat me, she’s going to have to get close. This isn’t the cartoons, where she can run circles around me until I get dizzy and fall down. And while I’m sure I’m not quite as fast as Belladonna is, I know I’m no slouch in the speed department myself. I’d like to think I’m fairly well rounded; I’ve got the speed, I’ve got the strength, and, yes, I have adaptability.”
[Another chuckle, although Terrence shakes his head in helpless disbelief]
“And yet, even after being here for nearly two months now, people still don’t quite seem to be able to respect me. Everyone, especially our smaller boss-lady, seems to think that I’m simply riding in Wendy’s wake, letting her plow the road, while I traipse along behind, and pick up all the spoils along the way. I suppose as preposterous as these rumours are, it’s only fair. After all, for so long it was Wendy who had to deal with this bullshit. I suppose it’s only fair I take a turn with the haters.”
[Another chuckle, and head shake, and this time Terrence’s voice takes on the tone of a teacher addressing a difficult student with a simple truth]
“Look, people. Of COURSE I look better with Wendy Briese in my corner. Just as Wendy looks better with me in her corner. That’s the mark of a great tag team, we make each other look better, something I’m surprised the Cherrybombs aren’t able to comprehend. But both of us are more than capable of dominating singles competition as well. I’m a five-time world champ, and Wendy...”
[Terrence breaks into a huge grin of pride for his beloved]
“Well, it took ten-and-a-half fucking months, but someone finally decided to give Wendy Briese a shot at a singles belt, over in X3W, and she did exactly what everyone knew she was going to do all along. She walked down that aisle, and she kicked ass, and now she’s got a World Championship to call her very own. So two monkeys off her back in a single night, and I couldn’t be more proud of her.”
“But now? It’s my turn.”
[Smirk]
“Of course, what woiuld be a World Title match these days without throwing some goofy-ass stipulation into the mix, and our Catholic Panda braintrust has sure come up with a good one. LUMBERJACKS! Y’know, I’d ALMOST be worried, except that I know that Wendy ain’t going to anything but make sure that this match is kept clean, and I’m pretty sure Haley Dark is going to be of the same mindset. That leaves the Sin City Sinners, who apparently ain’t too keen that Wendy and I are the tag team champions, and they’re not.”
[Terrence’s eyebrows arch again, and he smirks at the camera]
“Well boys, maybe you shoulda signed up a couple of weeks earlier and done something about it.”
“So now you take these two idiots, and you stick them at ringside in a main event that features one-half of the tag team champions, and one-half of the team posing the fiercest threat as a contender, and you don’t think they’re going to start shit? Then again, considering Valerie’s feelings about me, maybe she’d prefer this match getting wrecked to me being the champion.”
[And you thought Michelle Taylor was good at pissing off the management]
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Wendy will be more than enough to keep those boys in line, and even if they somehow manage to give her the slip, I’m sure Belladonna wouldn’t mind me taking a couple of minutes to kick their asses from here to eternity. After all, I owe them one from the last show, don’t I?”
[Another chuckle, albeit this one’s a teensy sinister]
“Either way, I ain’t about to let anything get in the way of me beating Belladonna and taking the title. I’ve been here before, and I’ve been on both sides of the coin at the end of the night. But I fully anticipate this flip ending up in my favor, and at the end of the night, Catholic Panda Wrestling is going to have a new champion. A dominant champion. A champion that ain’t currently wallowing in sixth place in her own fed’s rankings. And who’s going to stop me?”
[Oh dear god, where gonna have a catchphrase]
“Haven’t I warned ya yet? You just can’t stop the Mechanical Mayhem!”
[Terrence flashes one last cheesy grin at the camera, then turns his full attention back to the road, as he resumes the long drive towards Texas]
[Oh, and fade. To black. Because rainbows are gay]
Cedar Ridge Memorial Hospital- Fourth FLoor Hallway
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
10:31 AM Local Time
I learned a lot of things from my stay at Cedar Ridge Memorial Hospital.
I learned that in pro-wrestling, it doesn’t matter if you’re signed to a company or not. If you’re there, and a guy doesn’t like you (or, more specifically, doesn’t like your wife), you better be on your guard.
I learned that no matter how strong and tough I think my wife is, she’s still capable of surprising me. The poise she had controlled in guiding our family through this small crisis was absolutely remarkable.
I learned that regardless of what people say, Drew Carey is a SHITTY host of the Price is Right.
But, most importantly of all, I learned that, even if you got the bad luck of getting a male nurse, and you’re the most heterosexual guy on the planet, simply yanking out your own catheter tube is NOT the proper solution to the dilemma.
I mean, seriously, that may have hurt worse than the concussion.
But alas, they finally took one last MRI, decided that my concussion was no longer ‘kinda-sorta-semi-life-threatening’, and gave me my walking papers. After five days bedridden, I was a free man.
Luckily, Wendy had left me some clothes before she had taken the rest of the family to Dallas. It woulda sucked driving four-hundred miles in some bare-ass hospital gown. Especially as cold as it had been.
“Mr. Thompson!” I heard one of the nurses saying as I trudged towards the elevator. I was eager to put this hospital, and Oklahoma City in general, as far behind me as possible, but nonetheless, I stopped, and turned around, waiting for the nurse to catch up to me.
“Here,” slightly out of breath, she handed me a slip of paper, and I looked at it. “The doctor wanted me to give you this prescription for pain medicine.”
I looked at the prescription. Neurontin. I grimaced, then nodded my thanks to the nurse, who walked away. For a second, I considered just throwing the prescription away- I tried to stay away from anything stronger than Ibuprofin unless absolutely necessary. But I held on to it. My ribs were still sore, and this may be one of those times.
Besides, if anything, I could always crush a couple up and slip it into Pollaski’s Lucky Charms in the morning. That was always surefire entertainment.
I was a bit apprehensive as I approached the RV. The weather in Oklahoma had been freakishly cold all week, to the point where the RV had been rendered uninhabitable. Pollaski had managed to get it moved into the hospital parking lot, and then he, Wendy, Theresa, and Cassie had all piled into my Charger, and taken it to Dallas for the week. The plan was for me to drive the RV down, pick the whole family up, and we’d continue on to Los Angeles.
Something wasn’t right, though. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it’s just a connection I’ve always had with my cars. Whether it was on the racetrack, or in my driveway, if there was something wrong, I could just sense it, like the car was silently crying out to me for help.
That, and there were three MASSIVE icicles hanging out from beneath the RV.
I quickly got to the RV, and climbed the stairs to the inside. It was cold and dark, the mark of a massive vehicle that had been sitting idly for several days. I could still see my breath, which was odd, because I couldn’t outside. With a shrug, I began to walk through the cabin, looking around to see if everything was okay.
I got about four steps before I slipped, and fell hard.
I gasped as my bruised ribs screamed in agony from the fall, and even teared up a bit as I seethed against the pain. Slowly, I managed to roll onto my stomach, and tried to climb to my feet, but I slipped, and fell again.
“Mother.... fucker....” I wheezed, as again I tried to get to my feet. Eventually I gained my feet again, and I realized what was wrong.
Everything was covered with ice. The floors, the walls, the ceiling. Everything. What the fuck happened?
Then it hit me. Despite me telling him to do so at LEAST five times, Pollaski had forgotten to turn off the RV’s water system, and drain the tanks. The pipes had frozen, and they had burst.
And now I owned a half-million dollar ice skating rink on wheels.
=====================================
Monday February 14, 2011
The RV- Cockpit
Interstate 35 near Ardmore, Texas
9:14 PM Local Time
[Okay, so maybe that wasn’t exactly the way Terrence had intended to spend his first few hours of freedom, but it is what it is, right? So six hours of scraping and mopping, Terrence finally managed to get all the water and ice out of the RV, patch the holes in the fresh, grey, AND blackwater tanks, and get the King Aire in some semblance of working order.]
[Meanwhile, the pipes under the kitchen sink and in the shower both have massive holes in them, so it looks like the Birdz are going to be roughing it for a few days. Lord can only imagine the horrors that will be involved if the Thompson family’s forced to take their showers at truck stops.]
[Anyways, the scene opens in the cockpit of the RV, which is finally road worthy, and heading towards Dallas on the first leg of its journey to Los Angeles. As usual, the camera is mounted on the dash at the front, looking back at the RV, which is empty save for Terrence Thompson. For his part, the Mechanical Mayhem is more jovial than he has any right to be, considering that Lord knows what the price tag is for a new RV plumbing system. But maybe its that Terrence now has a rare treat- an open road drive by himself across the southern Great Plains.]
[Or maybe he’s just been imagining burying his manager in the New Mexico desert]
“Well, look who just got medically cleared!”
“I know, did anyone out there honestly think that I was going to sit out the Great Panda Bash? My first ever Catholic Panda Wrestling Supershow, and I’m gonna watch it from a hospital bed?”
[Terrence chuckles to himself, and shakes his head. No way, no how]
“Still, it did kinda suck that within twenty-four hours of becoming the #1 Contender to the Undisputed Panda title, I’m shipped off to the hospital with a concussion because one of my wife’s rivals wanted to get under her skin. A definite setback to be sure, but one I can certainly overcome. Of course, now I have some serious training and preparation time to make up, but you can rest assured that when I hit that ring Monday night, Belladonna is going to be in for the fight of her life.”
[Terrence flashes a grin at the camera, then turns to check his mirrors.]
“So just a week ago, at the fourteenth episode of Zoo, I did exactly what I said I was going to do. I stepped in that ring, I took matters into my own hands, and I forged my own path in this company. The best Catholic Panda Wrestling had to offer stood in my way, and not one of them could bring me down.”
“Okay, so maybe it was just seven people. But don’t look at me! I didn’t make the entry list! Hell, maybe I scared ‘em away!”
[Another grin at the prospect of the locker room cowering in fear of the almighty Thompson. Even if it is more or less a fantasy]
“Either way, I’m sure that there are some people that are less than happy about what transpired. Those seven unfortunate souls, for starters. I mean, Liam’s got the biggest ninja-troubles since Shredder himself, and if I hadn’t snapped my attention back to Gowan when I did, then maybe things might have ended up differently. But them’s the breaks.”
[small shrug]
“But I’m sure our illustrious owner, Missus Valerie Belmont, isn’t exactly jumping with glee either. Can you imagine. Me, Terrence Thompson, scourge of the Belmont clan, main eventing HER supercard? But what’s going to be best of all, is the expression on her face when I pin Belladonna one, two, three in the middle of the ring, and become the champion of HER company. That could explain the stipulation she suddenly just dropped on us earlier today, but I’ll get to more of that later.”
“And of course there’s the dodo himself, Aoraki. I’m sure I have my detractors around here, and they can bash my ‘attitude’ if they want, but Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! For a guy who’s biggest match involved him beating up my manager, he’s turned into one pretentious little asshole.”
[Another small chuckle, and Terrence shakes his head, too amused at this point to be irritated]
“Now, I know, winning a battle royal, especially one with eight people in it, is hardly the most dominating way to earn yourself a title shot. But you know what? It was an opportunity. If Aoraki wants to play it safe, and spend the big show taking on both members of Furry Vengeance, more power to him. I’m the kinda guy who goes for whatever opportunity he can get, so when Cammie and Val dangled the carrot, I grabbed it, and took a great big juicy bite. And I gotta tell you, from here, its pretty damn sweet.”
[Short pause, and Terrence’s eyebrows arch]
“Or maybe I just ingested a lethal amount of poison. After all, you know which poison tastes the sweetest?”
[Belladonna, yo]
“So once again, I’ve got myself a dance with the great Belladonna. I hope Little Miss Trixie isn’t sick of me yet, because this is going to be my fourth match since I signed my CPW contract, and the third that has Belladonna as one of my opponents.”
“Now, both times we faced previously, I walked out on the winning team, although neither victory was what you’d exactly call overly decisive. Of course, that’s going to have to change this time. There ain’t gonna be anyone else to pin, and winning by disqualification amounts to just about the same thing as losing.”
[A small grimace, which disappears quickly]
“So ultimately, this is probably going to end up a game of cat and mouse, with me playing the role of the feline. Belladonna is quick, agile, and damn good at playing keep away. But one problem with that... in order to beat me, she’s going to have to get close. This isn’t the cartoons, where she can run circles around me until I get dizzy and fall down. And while I’m sure I’m not quite as fast as Belladonna is, I know I’m no slouch in the speed department myself. I’d like to think I’m fairly well rounded; I’ve got the speed, I’ve got the strength, and, yes, I have adaptability.”
[Another chuckle, although Terrence shakes his head in helpless disbelief]
“And yet, even after being here for nearly two months now, people still don’t quite seem to be able to respect me. Everyone, especially our smaller boss-lady, seems to think that I’m simply riding in Wendy’s wake, letting her plow the road, while I traipse along behind, and pick up all the spoils along the way. I suppose as preposterous as these rumours are, it’s only fair. After all, for so long it was Wendy who had to deal with this bullshit. I suppose it’s only fair I take a turn with the haters.”
[Another chuckle, and head shake, and this time Terrence’s voice takes on the tone of a teacher addressing a difficult student with a simple truth]
“Look, people. Of COURSE I look better with Wendy Briese in my corner. Just as Wendy looks better with me in her corner. That’s the mark of a great tag team, we make each other look better, something I’m surprised the Cherrybombs aren’t able to comprehend. But both of us are more than capable of dominating singles competition as well. I’m a five-time world champ, and Wendy...”
[Terrence breaks into a huge grin of pride for his beloved]
“Well, it took ten-and-a-half fucking months, but someone finally decided to give Wendy Briese a shot at a singles belt, over in X3W, and she did exactly what everyone knew she was going to do all along. She walked down that aisle, and she kicked ass, and now she’s got a World Championship to call her very own. So two monkeys off her back in a single night, and I couldn’t be more proud of her.”
“But now? It’s my turn.”
[Smirk]
“Of course, what woiuld be a World Title match these days without throwing some goofy-ass stipulation into the mix, and our Catholic Panda braintrust has sure come up with a good one. LUMBERJACKS! Y’know, I’d ALMOST be worried, except that I know that Wendy ain’t going to anything but make sure that this match is kept clean, and I’m pretty sure Haley Dark is going to be of the same mindset. That leaves the Sin City Sinners, who apparently ain’t too keen that Wendy and I are the tag team champions, and they’re not.”
[Terrence’s eyebrows arch again, and he smirks at the camera]
“Well boys, maybe you shoulda signed up a couple of weeks earlier and done something about it.”
“So now you take these two idiots, and you stick them at ringside in a main event that features one-half of the tag team champions, and one-half of the team posing the fiercest threat as a contender, and you don’t think they’re going to start shit? Then again, considering Valerie’s feelings about me, maybe she’d prefer this match getting wrecked to me being the champion.”
[And you thought Michelle Taylor was good at pissing off the management]
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Wendy will be more than enough to keep those boys in line, and even if they somehow manage to give her the slip, I’m sure Belladonna wouldn’t mind me taking a couple of minutes to kick their asses from here to eternity. After all, I owe them one from the last show, don’t I?”
[Another chuckle, albeit this one’s a teensy sinister]
“Either way, I ain’t about to let anything get in the way of me beating Belladonna and taking the title. I’ve been here before, and I’ve been on both sides of the coin at the end of the night. But I fully anticipate this flip ending up in my favor, and at the end of the night, Catholic Panda Wrestling is going to have a new champion. A dominant champion. A champion that ain’t currently wallowing in sixth place in her own fed’s rankings. And who’s going to stop me?”
[Oh dear god, where gonna have a catchphrase]
“Haven’t I warned ya yet? You just can’t stop the Mechanical Mayhem!”
[Terrence flashes one last cheesy grin at the camera, then turns his full attention back to the road, as he resumes the long drive towards Texas]
[Oh, and fade. To black. Because rainbows are gay]
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