EPISODE 59: Heartbreak

EPISODE 59: Heartbreak

Tuesday November 2, 2010
Air Canada Centre- WhirlyBirdz’ Locker Room
Toronto, Ontario
11:31 PM Local Time

Wendy Briese-Thompson could only shriek in horror as she watched her husband be driven into the mat with the Reclamation. She had no idea where John Ojeda had gotten such a move from, or how he had managed to caught Terrence with it, but she knew for a fact, as Ojeda covered him, and hooked his leg, that her husband’s Grand Prix Championship reign had just come to an end. She could only watch silently, her hand over her open mouth, as the ref counted to three, and signalled the bell.

As Terrence continued to lie on the mat, John Ojeda had grabbed the title, and raised it high over his head, smirking evilly at the angry fans, as the cage that had surrounded the ring began to rise. Disgusted by Ojeda’s smirking visage, Wendy quickly hit the power button on the television, and sank into a chair.

For just a few seconds, Wendy stared off into space, her expression completely blank. The first thing she thought was how her daughter, who had gone with Cassie up into the stands, would think about what had just happened. It wasn’t often Theresa had to watch either mommy or daddy lose- and now she had seen both fall on the very same night. Wendy shook her head as she visualized the crestfallen expression that was surely on her daughter’s face.

Suddenly, like a tsunami, a wave of emotion washed over her as the events of the week came rushing back to her. Confronting her father. Her fight with her grandmother. Her upset loss to Ashley Graves. And now Terrence losing his championship, the title he had fought so hard for, just like that. Like a dam showing the first signs of a break, a single tear leaked from her eyes, trickling down her cheek. Then Wendy buried her face in her hands as the dam was washed away completely, any sense of control overwhelmed by the sudden tide of emotion that had come pouring out.

How long she sat there, sobbing into her hands, she didn’t know. A small part of her screamed to stop this foolishness, to find her husband, and to make sure he was really okay after the tough fall he had just taken, but the rest of her body wouldn’t respond. She hated herself for it- crying like a little girl in her locker room- what kind of champion did that? But still, there was a part of her that knew she needed this release, to let the floods drain, and empty the emotional reservoir that had simply just become too full.

A hand grasping her shoulder made her jump slightly, and she quickly turned, looking up at her assailant.

Terrence Thompson looked like he had been through a war. The dethroned champion was covered with cuts, scrapes, and bruises, and even the modified racing suit he wore as his ring attire was fairly damaged. There also was a definitive grimace of pain on his face as he tilted his neck downward to look at her. But he was smiling gently at her, and his brown eyes were deep with concern.

“Hey,” was all he said.

“Hey,” Wendy sniffled, as she used her hands to try and wipe her eyes.

“Everything okay?” Terrence asked quietly, the expression of concern still on his face.

Wendy nodded, although she blinked rapidly as she did. She suddenly found herself exhausted, wanting nothing more than to get back to the RV, collapse on the bed, and sleep until the next show. Nevertheless, she forced herself to rise from her chair, and throw her arms around her husband. She immediately let go, however, when she heard him hiss in pain.

“Are you okay?” Wendy asked, suddenly alarmed.

Terrence nodded. “I will be. Fucker got me good, that’s for sure. Knocked me out. But the medical guys said I don’t have a concussion or anything. Hell, I’m even cleared to compete next week. But I think I’m gonna be a bit sore for the next couple of days.”

Wendy nodded, as Terrence stiffly began to undress from his ring attire. “I’m sorry that you...” she faded off, unable to bring herself to say the word ‘lost.’

But Terrence merely shrugged, and he began grabbing his street clothes out of his duffel bag. “It happens, you know. There’s not too many certainties in this sport, but one is that no one’s ever champion forever. I just wish it hadn’t been so quick.” he finished with a sigh.

“You’ll get a rematch, and you’ll get it back,” Wendy said, although she stopped as a clouded look crossed her husband’s features.

For several seconds, neither Bird spoke, before Terrence finally shook his head. “I don’t know if I want to do that,” he finally said. “At least yet.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Wendy asked, suddenly puzzled.

But Terrence merely shrugged, and slipped his t-shirt over his head. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “I was planning on discussing it with both you and Pollaski, but there’s something in my gut telling me that I’d be better off waiting. It that I don’t think I could beat Ojeda, or that I don’t even want the title. It’s just... I really can’t explain it. I’m sorry if it doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t,” Wendy confirmed.

“Yeah, well, when have I ever made any sense?” Terrence said, grinning at Wendy as he pulled on his jeans. Despite herself, Wendy found herself smiling back, and Terrence ginned wider. “‘Attagirl. Tonight was rotten, sure, but it ain’t the end of the world for us. Hell, we’ve had worst nights than this, even. At least I wasn’t hauled out in a stretcher by some misguided nutjob who wanted you as his girlfriend.”

At the mention of her late friend Rick Logan, Wendy shot a severe look at her husband, who gave her such a ridiculous look of mock-horror that she couldn’t hold it, and burst out laughing. Terrence chuckled along with her.

The locker room door swung open, and both Birdz looked as Pollaski, Cassie, and Theresa walked in Wendy sobered immediately. The expression on her daughter’s face looked identical to what Wendy had visualized earlier. Theresa’s lower lip trembled as she looked from one parent to another.

“You lost! You both lost!” she whispered, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe it.

The disappointment in her daughter’s voice nearly broke Wendy’s heart, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes again. But Terrence, despite the aches and pains racking his body, swept forward, and swept his daughter up in his arms, bouncing her gently.

“That’s just the way it is sometimes, Terr-Bear” the Mechanical Mayhem said. “Every match has a winner and loser. Tonight wasn’t just our night.”

“But you NEVER lose!” Theresa protested, her lower lip still trembling.

Terrence chuckled again, and he tousled Theresa’s hair. “That’s hardly true, Theresa. Wendy and I both have lost a lot of matches in our career. It’s something that happens.

“But...”

But Terrence shook his head, silencing his protesting daughter. “Losing stinks, hon. I didn’t like it either. But you can learn a lot from a loss. We’ll get back to training, we’ll learn from our mistakes, and we’ll come back better than before.”

“So you’ll win next week?”

“I can’t promise you that, hon,” Terrence replied, wincing as he set Theresa back down. “Heck, I don’t even know who I’m facing yet! But I can promise you this, I’m going to try my hardest to, just mommy and I both do every week. In fact, I’ll even try extra-hard, just for you. Deal?”

“Deal!” Theresa said, beaming.

Terrence looked over at his wife, who was smiling at him, although her eyes were shining with tears. He walked forward, and embraced her, ignoring the aches in his muscles as he did so.

“I know you’re tired, hon. But I think what this family needs is to go out for a nice late-night meal, and just have some fun.” he muttered into her ear. “You up for it?”

Wendy nodded. “I’m hungry too. And I think we could all use a pick-me-up.”

Terrence released her, and smiled. “Alright, then let’s grab our stuff, and get out of here.”


==================================
Thursday November 4, 2010
The Nest- Back Deck
Indianapolis, Indiana
5:10 PM Local Time

“Well...”

[Wait for it...]

[Wait for it...]

“Shit.”

[There it is!]

[Despite the Birdz having a nice late night dinner after the show, the drive back to Indianapolis from Toronto was hardly a lively one. The Birdz were more than happy to leave Toronto behind, and head back towards the US of A. However, heading back to the Nest only raises more problems- namely the inevitable reunion of Wendy and her grandmother, which can’t stand to be pleasant in the least.]

[Luckily, the Indiana autumn weather has held up considerably as November came in, so Terrence today has decided that the best place to shoot his promo from is the back deck. Terrence sits in a patio chair, the camera mounted a few feet in front of him, the house serving as a backdrop. Through the glass, Wendy can be seen bustling about the kitchen, putting dishes away.]

[Terrence sits fairly relaxed, like he normally does, and he’s dressed in a navy blue t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. But there’s one thing missing from Terrence’s ensemble that is almost notoriously ever-present- his sardonic smirk. Instead, a lopsided smile, almost of self-deprecation, adorns the Mechanical Mayhem’s face]

“You know, the worst part about the whole thing is that during the weeks leading up to this match, I was approached by so many people. Some I knew... some I didn’t. There were people from all walks of life, casual followers, die-hard fans, hell, even some of my colleagues in the locker room. And every single one of them said the same thing to me.”

“‘For the love of God, please don’t let John Ojeda represent Pro Wrestling X as its champion.’”

[Terrence grimaces, and shakes his head]

“Well, unfortunately, didn’t quite turn out that way.”

[Sigh]

“So I guess to all of you out there who had begged me to keep Ojeda from becoming the number one guy in this company, who had faith that I would be the one to stop him, I’m sorry. Sometimes that’s the way things go, though.”

[It’s obvious that humble pie is hardly Terrence’s favorite desert, but he’s at least taking the disappointment of the loss rather stoically.]

“But you got to hand it to John. He wrestled one hell of a match. He got me, and he got me clean. That belt’s around his waist now, for better or for worse, and its something that I- that we ALL- have to accept.”

“So now comes the sixty-four thousand dollar question. Now that I’ve been deposed as the Grand Prix Champion- will I seek a rematch?”

[There’s a long pause, and Terrence almost looks as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say. But nonetheless, he shakes his head]

“Not quite yet.”

[Another lopsided smile]

“I considered it at first. Obviously the moment you fall off the horse, you want to hop back on. But then, I got to thinking. Never Say Die marked my third straight match where I had a championship of mine on the line. The two weeks before that show, I defended my title against the two top tag teams in this company. Ojeda? He took the week off. With my obligations as tag team champion, I had a week to prepare for Never Say Die. Ojeda had a month.”

[Terrence pauses for just another second, then shrugs]

“You can claim I’m making excuses, and maybe I am, but the fact of the matter is, being a double-champion isn’t an easy feat, especially with the level of competition I was facing. So, for now, I’m going to take the advice of the legendary Frankie Valli, and say ‘Let’s Hang on to What We Got.’ And what we got are the PWX Tag Team Championships.”

[Frankie Valli being the eunuch who, along with The Four Seasons, recorded such wonderful falsetto-shriek hits as “Walk Like a Man”, “December 1963 (Oh What A Night), and, cover your eardrums, “Big Girls Don’t Cry”]

“I will make it very plain to everyone- sometime in the near future, Terrence Thompson is going to be the Grand Prix Champion again, and I’m going to hold that belt for a long time. But right now, I’m going to make sure that I complete cement the WhirlyBirdz as the greatest tag team in PWX history.”

“So Global Revolution is once again the Number One Contenders to our title- so I say, Tuesday night, November 23rd, two days before Thanksgiving, you guys take your shot. In fact, after talking to Wendy about it, we’ve decided that you guys can even pick the match. It’s yours- just please, for the love of God, show some creativity,”

[Which means, please, for the love of God, don’t pick another Shoots and Ladders match. Just... please. One was enough.]

“As for the losers of the number one contenders match, The Belmonts, I’ll tell you guys what. Since you both are so hell bent on just whining about your loss to us a couple weeks ago, Wendy and I will be MORE than happy to shut you guys up again. So, in the likely event that we manage to beat Global Revolution, we’ll extend the same offer to you. You get another chance at us, in a match of your choosing. And you won’t even have to wait seven months for it, too.”

[For the first time all promo, Terrence unleashes his legendary smirk, although it’s somewhat tempered by the less than stellar mood Terrence’s in]

“And as for anyone else in this company, or hell, in the entire world of pro-wrestling, who wants to relieve Wendy and I of our titles, well, the line forms behind the Revolution and the Belmonts. I’d say no cuts, but for God’s sake, we’re all professional wrestlers here. Being orderly has never been exactly any of our strong points.”

[Cheesy grin]

“But enough about the future. I’m mostly a here and now kind of guy, anyways. And the here and now is that I’m coming off of my first loss in five months, to a man I hold absolutely no respect for, a man who now stands atop of the PWX with my Grand Prix Championship. I think it goes without saying that I’m not a very happy camper right now. In fact, right now there isn’t anything I want to do more than to climb back into that ring, and beat the hell out of someobody to remind the world that I might have been downed last week, but there is no way in hell that I’m out.”

“And thus enters Ben Stevens, the new Hybrid Champion, who I face in a non-title match. A good thing too- it’d be absolutely idiotic of me to tell you guys that I’m not going to actively seek a rematch with Ojeda so that I can focus on defending my tag team championships, then turn around and win a lesser singles belt the very next week.”

[Another cheesy grin]

“It’s so easy to overlook a guy like you, Ben, but also such a fatal mistake. Even you would have to admit that youv’e spent better part of the last few months wallowing in the early matches of the show, trading wins and losses against guys like Patrick Flintlock, Austin Starr, and Luke Blue. But just when everyone starts to wonder you’re ever going to get anywhere, WHAM! You beat Victor Jace, when Victor Jace had all the momentum in the world- he was the man of the hour after Civil War. He had just upset Moxie to be the Evolution Champion. Hell, Jace had even managed to survive a match with me without getting pinned.”

[Terrence snorts as if he found something kind of funny, and thinks for just a second. Finally, he shakes his head]

“But scratch that, you didn’t just BEAT Victor Jace, you made the man TAP. You so thoroughly trashed him that Victor Jace hasn’t even been seen in the PWX SINCE! People can talk whuppin’ someone’s ass all they want, but until they actually whip a guy so badly he flees the company... they’re just blowing smoke. Then, Ben, you stun everyone again by beating Jenna Himmler in the first fall at Never Say Die to become the Hybrid champion.”

“I gotta give you credit where its due, Stevens. You’re not a quitter. Given how many times you’ve been so painfully and thoroughly trashed out there in that ring, that you even keep coming back for more says something about you. And you should be proud that your perseverance has finally paid off.”

[Terrence pauses for just a second, and rubs the back of his still sore neck, before continuing to the camera]

“But unfortunately, all that ain’t going to do you a damn bit of good come next Tuesday.”

[Grin]

“See Ben, you might have heart, and you might have guts, but so do I. And I’m going to go out on a limb here, and say that I have quite a bit more talent to boot. But there’s one thing I have that you don’t, that’s going to make all the difference in the world next week.”

[The grin disappears from Terrence’s face, and he sits up straighter in his chair, his brown eyes turning hard.]

“A hell of a lot to prove.”

[Slight grimace]

“I know you know what it’s like to lose a match, Ben. And I know you know what it’s like to lose a title. But when you end up losing a belt you were chasing for six months on your very first defense, well, that’s a pretty damn big blow to take. But to go from losing the Grand Prix Championship to beating the Hybrid Champion in a nontitle match in the span of a week, well, it might not heal the wound, but it’s going to at least stop the bleeding.”

[Figuratively, of course. Terrence literally stopped bleeding sometime around 3 AM WEdnedsay Morning]

“Ben, you seem like a good guy, and I’m glad that you’ll still be the Cinderella Hybrid champion no matter what happens in the outcome of this match. But I’m not going to lose two in a row, not to you, and not to anybody. I may not be ready to actively reseek the Grand Prix Championship, but I want to make it so that the moment I decide to make that title mine again, I’m as close to the damned thing as I can possibly get. And that means that I’m going to continue to tear through everything in my path, just like I did before Never Say Die.”

[Terrrence suddenly breaks into one final smirk. Unlike the previous half-attempts he made earlier in the promo, this is the full on, cocky, sardonic smile that we normally see Terrence Thompson with]

“Even John Ojeda couldn’t stop the Mechanical Mayhem- he just managed to deflect it for the time being. But you, Ben Stevens...”

[Terrence chuckles]

“You’re about to get ran over.”

[Terrence rises from his chair, and turns and heads back into the house, while the scene fades to black]

EPISODE 58: Night Of Indescribable Horrors, Part II

Sunday October 31, 2010
City Streets- Terrence’s Charger
Indianapolis, Indiana
11:16 PM Local Time

It had been the perfect Halloween.

The party, which had been put on by the Youth Group of St. Josephine’s Church (which Wendy attended) as a fund-raiser, had been extremely well organized, with plenty of activities for both adults and Children to do. Theresa had had a blast, as she successfully managed to bob for an apple on her first try, and had even made it through the ‘Haunted House’ without crying (although, to be fair, the teenagers placed in the maze to jump at people had largely left her alone).

Terrence Thompson smiled as his daughter babbled excitedly about her experiences at the party. Humming a few bars of “The One-Eyed One-Horned Flying Purple People Eater” under his breath, he turned his Charger into the Pike Creek subdivision.

“So, Terr-Bear when do you want to go to the Olive Garden?” Terrence asked.

“Now!” Theresa beamed, as she waved her gift certificate in the air. Each category winner of the costume contest had received a ten-dollar gift certificate to the Italian restaurant, and Theresa had won for the “Under Five” category.

The adults all laughed, and Wendy, sitting in the back seat next to her daughter, ruffled Theresa’s hair (which had fallen out of its carefully done hairstyle soon after the costume contest had ended). “I don’t think so, hon. You’ve eaten more than enough tonight. Besides its WAY past your bedtime.”

“But I’m not tired!” Theresa protested, drawing another round of chuckles.

“I’m not surprised,” Wendy remarked. “After all the candy you ate. But you’re going to be out like a light the moment that sugar crash hits.”

Theresa opened her mouth to protest, but it turned immediately into a yawn, pretty much validating Wendy’s comment, and drawing another chuckle from the adults in the car.

“I think we ALL need to get some rest,” Daniel Pollaski, who had been granted shotgun due to his girth, remarked. “After all, we’ve got a long drive to Toronto tomorrow.”

The rest of the car’s occupant’s nodded, although most of them, especially Cassie, didn’t look too thrilled about the upcoming trip. With Wendy’s grandmother also coming along for the ride, that meant six people would be camping out in the RV. Wendy had made the unpopular decision to allow Constance use of the RV’s master bedroom, which had moved her and Terrence to the hide-a-bed in the main cabin. That was normally Cassie’s spot, so the unfortunate sitter had found herself relegated to the floor, along with Pollaski.

Terrence didn’t miss the grumbling sounds coming from his two employees, and he shrugged. “You know, maybe we oughta spring for a hotel for you two this time.” Terrence remarked. “After all, you guys are no good to us cranky and sore all the time.”

Both Cassie and Pollaski made half-hearted protests that Terrence ‘didn’t have to do that’, but it was obvious that they both were more than eager to get off the floor- and away from Wendy’s overcritical grandmother to boot. Terrence smiled as he turned the car onto Wabash Circle, heading for the Nest. It had been the perfect Halloween, but near as he could tell, it was only going to get better. As soon as they got home, they were going to kick Pollaski and Cassie out, and put Theresa to bed. And then, once everyone was gone, and they were alone, Terrence in his princely outfit, and Wendy in her mermaid costume-

“Steve’s Car is still here,” Wendy broke into Terrence’s thoughts, pointing at the ‘02 Mustang that was parked at the curb.

“Game probably just ran long,” Terrence responded, as he pulled into the Nest’s driveway. But he too had the sense that something was amiss. While the living room lights were still on the blinds, which he and Wendy always left open, had been drawn closed. Additionally, a few straggling trick or treaters stood at the front door, waiting for an answer. When none came, the disappointed revelers moved on, heading over to the McKenzie’s house next door.

“Is everything okay?” Wendy asked, quickly opening the car door as Terrence stopped the car. Both Pollaski and Cassie exchanged concerned looks as Wendy, fearing the worst, quickly headed towards the house.

Terrence shut the engine off, and looked over at Cassie. “Keep Theresa out here.”

Cassie nodded, although Theresa looked confused at the sudden alarm in her parents.

Wendy quickly got to the door, and flung it open, running inside the house as fast as her mermaid costume would allow her. “Nana! Steve! Is everything al-OH MY GOD!”

Terrence heard his wife scream, and ran quicker, barelling into the house, and running into the living room, where his wife stood, her mouth open in gaping horror. Terrence took one look, and immediately paled.

Constance O’Reilly lay on the couch, her button up shirt opened all the way down to her waist. She still had her arms around Terrence’s uncle, who was atop the septuagenarian. Both were staring at Wendy and Terrence wide-eyed, a mixture of shock and guilt on both their faces.

“Is everything okay?” Pollaski asked as he waddled into the Nest behind them, a most difficult feat considering the bulky costume he was in. He rounded the corner into the living room and stopped, immediately choking, although whether from a gag or laughter even he couldn’t tell. “What has been seen, cannot be unseen,” he managed to wheeze, eyes streaming.

Terrence could think of no more appropriate proverb. Steve quickly sat up onto the couch, and Constance wriggled to a sitting position as well, quickly buttoning her shirt as she did. For a second, silence reigned over the living room.

Then Cassie’s voice echoed in to the house from oustide. “Is everthing okay in there? It’s kind of cold out here!”

Wendy still stood comatose, her mouth open, but Terrence called out. “We’re okay! Just take Theresa upstairs, okay? I’ll be up in a minute to explain!”

“I have the Charlie Brown DVD in my car,” Pollaski offered in a low voice. “I’ll go get it.”

“Thanks,” Terrence muttered, as he heard Theresa and Cassie’s footsteps plodding up the stairs behind him. Pollaski quickly waddled off to his car, and for a second, Terrence envied him on getting to leave this awkward scene.

From the expression on his wife’s face, he had a feeling things were about to get very, very ugly. Which considering what he had just seen, was saying something.

Constance had finished buttoning up her shirt, and she looked at Wendy, having at least the decency to look embarassed. “So, how was the party?” she asked in a wavering voice.

“It was fun,” Terrence remarked casually, looking over at Steve. “Who won Saints-Steelers?”

Steve shrugged. “Wasn’t really paying attention,” he remarked.

That wasn’t really what Terrence needed to hear at that particular moment, and he looked over his shoulder, just in time to see his manager running up the stairs, having quickly exchanged his dress for a t-shirt while at his car. Terrence began picking nervously at the medal adorned to his costume.

“Well,” Constance, said, trying to sound matter of fact. “I think I’m going to turn in. Have to be up early for All Saints D-”

Wendy cut her off with a hiss. “You... fucking... hypocrite.”

Terrence cringed. It wasn’t often that Wendy lost control of herself, but when she did, there generally weren’t any survivors. For her part, Constance gasped and covered her mouth at the obscenity, especially that her grandaughter had directed it at her.

Wendy wasn’t done. “Ever since you arrived two weeks ago, you have done nothing but criticize! You’ve criticized my husband, my daughter, my career, my housekeeping... Everything! You’ve walked around with this completely holier than thou attitude despite the fact that you haven’t lifted a damned finger to help wtih ANYTHING! And then the first chance you’re left alone, with a man you’ve barely even met, you hop onto my couch and start undressing?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Constance protested. “We got to talking, and one thing led to another, and...”

“And, what?” Wendy demanded fiercely, her voice going up half-an octave. “You decided to turn MY living room couch into a boudoir? What if Theresa had walked in with us, and she saw you and Steve...” she shuddered. “Since you’re such the expert on child rearing, mind telling me how I’d explain THAT?”

Terrence cast a sidelong glance at his uncle, who, despite having so far managed to avoid the brunt of Wendy’s wrath, looked certainly cowed by her outburst. He turned back to Constance, who staring at her grandaughter in shock, blinking rapidly at the verbal onslaught.

“You don’t understand...”

“Understand what? That the rest of the family’s actually right about you? That you really are some crazy old bitter woman who tries to control everyone else’s life when you can’t even control your own? I almost gave up my CAREER, a job I LOVED, on your advice! What the hell was I thinking?”

Despite the dire mood in the room, Terrence felt small emotional victory at those words, although Wendy was still hardly done.

“I would have to be a raging IDIOT to take parenting advice from you! After all, you’re such a great parent, you haven’t even spoken with your last living daughter in the past three decades! You know how much that hurts Auntie Margaret that you act like she’s dead? Of course you don’t! And yet, I should listen to YOU on how to be a good parent?”

Constance gasped again at the mention of her daughter. “Gwendolyn, you have no right to-”

“And another thing-” Wendy snapped, her voice rising even higher. “I don’t give a flying damn what my birth certificate says. My name is Wendy, so stop... calling... me.... GWENDOLYN!”

The last word was uttered with such a piercing shriek, that all in the room flinched. Wendy paused, panting for breath, and she looked at the horrified faces on her relatives. Finally, she turned to Terrence. “I’m going to bed, before I say something that I’ll regret.”

She pushed by her husband, and stormed up the stairs, the only sound being Wendy’s footsteps stomping on the staircase, followed by the slamming of an upstairs door. Terrence, thoroughly uncomfortable being left alone in the room, rubbed the back of his neck.

Fortunately for him, Constance wasn’t long for staying either. Her eyes welling up with tears, she too left the room, quickly hobbling up the stairs, leaving Terrence alone with his uncle.

“Well,” Terrence finally said into the ringing silence. “I suppose I better go tuck Theresa in...”

His uncle nodded, scratching his grayed beard. “You’re not angry about all this too, are you?”

“You’re damn right I’m angry,” Terrence said, grimacing. “I’ve been dressed up in this ridiculous outfit all night, while my smoking hot redhead of a wife looked like a mermaid for the past four hours, and now she’s too goddamned pissed for me to get anything out of it?”

Steve chuckled sympathetically, and patted Terrence’s shoulder with his arm. “Sorry, kid.”

“And honest to God, Steve, THAT’S the best you can do?”

Steve arched an eyebrow. “She’s not such a bad person, once you get to know her. She’s a bit peculiar and opinionated, but after what I just saw, I think it runs in the family. But she’s also very personable, and she has a decent sense of humor. And she’s lonely. And kid, I’ll tell ya, she ain’t the only one in that regard.”

With that food for thought, Steve patted his nephew a couple more times on the shoulder, and quietly left the house, leaving Terrence standing alone in the living room with his thoughts.

===============================
Monday November 1, 2010
The RV- Main Cockpit
Port Huron, Michigan
3:10 PM Local Time

[Okay, so maybe it wasn’t quite the ending to Halloween that Terrence had hoped for, but hey, shit happens. Although its probably doubtful either Bird is ever going to look at their living room couch the same way again.]

[Anyways, morning brought a much sunnier landscape in the Thompson family household. Wendy awoke in a much sunnier mood, and although she was still rather cold to her grandmother, at least she wasn’t the screeching harpy she had become the night before. Even better news came for the Birdz while they were loading up the RV for departure, when Constance, thinking maybe getting away from Wendy for a couple days might ease the tension between them, announced that she was going to stay at Uncle Steve’s place while the Birdz were in Toronto. While the cringe-factor of this unexpected development would best be expressed as an exponential number, it definitely is nice to have the sleeping arrangements in the RV returned to normal.]

[And unbeknown to anyone else, Terrence snuck the mermaid costume aboard the RV. Just in case]

[Anyways, the scene opens in the cockpit of the WhirlyBirdz RV, which has been stopped just shy of the Canadian border en route to Toronto. The Birdz have taken a quick pause for the cause here, to stretch their legs, grab a bite, and to allow Terrence to shoot his final promo before Never Say Die.]

[Terrence Thompson is, of course, sitting in the driver’s seat of the RV, while the camera is mounted upon the dashboard. As near as could be figured, Terrence is the only one in the RV. At least, fortunately Terrence is wearing the usual attire, a Colts t-shirt and a pair of jeans.]

[Terrence opens his mouth to speak, but he pauses for just a second. Finally, he breaks out into laughter, and shakes his head.]

“Sorry, I was just thinking about this amazingly hillarious comedy routine I saw the other day...”

[Smirk]

“Although you probably knew it better as John Ojeda’s promo.”

[The smirk widens to become a grin]

“John Ojeda’s the kind of person who loves to pretend that he knows what he’s talking about, when in reality, he doesn’t have a goddamned clue. Does John actually think that droning on and on about my PWX bio page, and dropping the names of some wrestlers in another company, make him worth a shit of credibility?”

[Another short laugh]

“Almost as laughable as John’s cute little notion that he can lecture me on heart and unbreakable fighting spirit.”

[Small shrug]

“Even assuming the idiotic notion that I have none, let’s stop and remind ourselves who exactly I’m married to. Wendy Briese. Is there anyone in pro wrestling that better defines heart and unbreakable spirit than her? John should know the answer to that- he spent the better part of three months trying to break her. Needless to say, he failed.”

[Terrence reaches down at his side, and reclines the seat back just a bit, making himself a bit more comfortable]

“So belive me, I know what true heart is. I see it in my wife every day. And I think just maybe, if you go and look back and look at some of my contests through the years, that I might just have a little bit of a drive myself. No pun intended.”

[Terrence grins for just a second. After all, he is a fomer auto racer, so he has plenty of drive.]

“I didn’t win the Grand Prix Championship because I sit in a chair, smirk and crack a couple jokes. I spent the last four months as one half of the tag team champions because I’ll occasionally goof off. I earned these accolades because I go down to that ring every week, and I get the job done. See, unlike Ojeda, I know when there’s a time for play, and I know when there’s a time for business.”

[Terrence cricks his neck, and stares directly at the camera]

“And rest assured, when the bell rings for the main event on Tuesday night, with John Ojeda standing across that ring from me, and four steel walls surrounding me on all sides, you can guarantee that I’m going to be all business.”

[Blink]

“But of course, John Ojeda’s got me all figured out. After all, I’m an extremely one-dimensional wrestler, way too predictable, and basic.”

[Again, Terrence bursts out into laughter]

“Right.”

[Another smirk]

“I’ll be the first to admit that in terms of pure technical ability, I’m not the greatest guy. I don’t have a dazzling array of supercomplicated moves. I’m not like my wife, who somehow seems to learn a new submission hold every other week. But last I checked this is professional wrestling, not gymnastics. And the object of professional wrestling is to get the other guy’s shoulders on the mat for a three count, or to inflict such unbearable pain, that they give up.”

[Terrence leans forward just a bit in his seat]

“I don’t know Ojeda’s the only one who hasn’t been paying attention around here, but I think I’m pretty damn good at doing that. At least when idiots don’t run in and turn my matches into no contests out of some desperate cry for attention.”

[Terrence arches his eyebrows. Who could he possibly be talking about?]

“And before John Ojeda thinks that I’m the most predictable guy in the world, he should maybe ask himself one simple question. If I’m not the greatest technical wrestler on the planet, if I’m so damned predictable, why is it that I’m the champion of this company? Why is it that I haven’t lost a match in five months? Why is it that the one time Ojeda and I faced, he was the one who ended the match on his back, staring at the lights?”

[Terrence gasps in mock amazement]

“Could it possibly be that, just by chance, I might actually know what I’m doing around here? Could it maybe be that all the hours I spend in the gym, and the time I spend watching videotape studying my opponents, actually pays off?”

[Terrence pauses, as if he’s suddenly just realized something]

“Ah, but of course, I’ve forgotten, John Ojeda works harder at this than anyone else, right?”

[Terrence bursts out into laugher. Not the mocking stuff he opened the promo with, but real laughter. He’s genuinely amused. However, Terrence does quickly get ahold of himself, and calms down]

“This is the man who spent half a month resorting to shooting a taser at his opponents to get the win. This is the man who became the first Evolution Champion by simply stealing the belt. This is the man who didn’t do a damn thing over the course of the summer without having four people around to back him up. This is a man who didn’t even bother to properly research whether or not he was facing Jeremiah or Christopher Belmont before he opened his mouth.”

[Another chuckle from Terrence]

“I think its safe to say that I actually work harder at cleaning my bathroom than John Ojeda does at professional wrestling.”

[If Wendy were here, she would NOT be amused by that. At all]

“We’re just a little over twenty-four hours away from the biggest PWX show of the year. Never Say Die Four, Terrence Thompson and John Ojeda in a steel cage match. And Ojeda can draw whatever picture of me that he wants, but the fact of the matter is, he’s drawing that picture with a really cheap, crappy piece of chalk. And when that bell rings, and I’m finally turned loose upon him, a torrent is going to fall from the sky, and it’s going to wash away every last bit of that picture. And, then John Ojeda is going to realize what everyone else, from the fans in the cheap seats, to those at ringside, to the other wrestlers in the locker room, have already managed to figure out.”

[A short dramatic pause, and one final smirk]

“That there’s a hell of a lot more to Terrence Thompson than meets the eye.”

[And fade]