Sunday July 4, 2010
RV- Main Cabin
Independence, Missouri
2:15 PM Local Time
Dear Wendy,
My name is Kaylee and I am eight years old. You and Valerie are my favorite wrestlers in the whole world! I wish you would team together. Then you would have no problems with that big meanie Mandrake. I hope you like my picture!
Wendy smiled as she pulled out a picture, showing two stick-figures with red hair and a much bigger stick figure with long black hair. She held the picture up for the rest of the room to see. “What do you think this is of?”
Saturday’s autograph session had gone down without a hitch, and at least a couple hundred people had shown up to meet and greet with the soon-to-be PWX Tag Team Champions. All in all, the session had gone on for a couple hours, and both Terrence and Wendy had a blast mixing it up with their fans. After the session was over, however, the Birdz were approached by a PWX employee carrying two book boxes chalk full of envelopes.
Irritably, the employee had thrust the boxes into the shocked Birdz arms, and then walked away. After looking inside, both Birdz realized that they had just gotten about three months worth of fan mail dumped in their lap.
Now, the Birdz aren’t the kind of people who ignore their fans, but nor are they the type who feel the need to respond to every single letter they recieve. So, this morning, the sorting had begun. On the table, Dan Pollaski (his own small stack of envelopes sitting next to him- hey, some people love him!) and Cassie DeSlair were sorting mail to whether it was for Terrence, Wendy or both. In turn, each Bird would read their mail, then place it into either a “Respond” or “Don’t Respond” pile. Meanwhile, Theresa sat on the hide-a-bed couch, watching “Thomas the Tank Engine” on the television.
The bustle in the room halted as the other occupants in the room stopped to look at Wendy’s picture. Pollaski was the first to speak up.
“Looks like it’s you kicking Victor Mandrake in the nuts while Valerie Belmont bites him in the neck.” Pollaski said matter-of-factly.
“Don’t be vulgar, Dan,” Wendy snapped, turning the picture around to look at it again. “An eight year old wouldn’t draw- oh... that IS what it is.”
“Heh, let’s hope THAT never happens,” Terrence chuckled. “The last thing the world needs is for Valerie to be turning Victor Mandrake into an immortal vampire. Although the prospect of him combusting in the sunlight WOULD be a plus.”
The rest of the room laughed at the thought of Victor Mandrake bursting into flames, and Wendy, now smiling, placed the letter in her “Respond” pile (which by now was about three times the size of the “Don’t Respond”) She then reached for another envelope, carefully ripping it open.
“What’s this?” Terrence asked as he opened a large manilla envelope. Opening it, he pulled out what looked very much to be a comic book. “Wow...” he said admirably, holding it up. The cover was a manga-style drawing of Terrence, Wendy, and Pollaski, although strangely enough, Pollaski and Terrence were standing determinedly in the foreground, while Wendy had been relegated to the background.
Even so, Wendy was fairly impressed. “I can’t believe someone would put in the time and effort to draw us in a comic book.”
“You guys have your own doujinshi!” Cassie said brightly, reaching out for the comic.
“Doe-on-the-what-now?” Terrence asked, handing the book over.
“Unauthorized fan comic,” Pollaski translated, looking at Cassie in surprise. “I didn’t know you were into anime.”
“I watched a lot of it when I was younger,” Cassie said as she began to flip through the pages of the book.
A letter had come with the book, and Terrence unfolded it, reading it aloud.
Dear Terrence, Dan, and Wendy
My name is Iris, and I’m about to be a sophmore at Evergreen State College in Washington. I’ve been a huge fan of you guys ever since I was a little girl. I made this for an art class I was in as my final project, and I wanted to send you a copy. I love you, Terrence, and I hope that you beat the hell out of Jacob Wright!!
“Heh, Terrence said, easily dropping the letter into his own “Respond” pile. “Guess we should check our mail more often.”
“Omigod!” Cassie shrieked in a high pitched voice, forcing everyone in the room, including Theresa, to stare at her. Blushing crimson, she began to laugh.
“What’s going on?” Terrence demanded, looking at his nanny.
“It... it’s one of THOSE doujinshi’s” Cassie managed to eek out through her laughter.
“Huh?” Now Terrence was thoroughly confused, and he looked at Cassie with an expression that he was clearly starting to question her sanity. Instead of even trying to formulate a response, Cassie handed the comic, still open to its current page, to Terrence, who took one look and screamed.
“What?” Pollaski said, leaning in to look over Terrence’s shoulder. “WOW.”
Terrence said nothing, just stared at the comic in absolute horror.
“How come YOU get to be on top?” Pollaski whined.
“Probably because you’d crush him!” Cassie choked out between her fits of laughter, drawing a dirty glare from the portly manager.
“THAT’S THE MOST YOU FIND WRONG WITH THIS?” Terrence screamed incredulously.
“Can I wook?” Theresa asked, walking over to the table where everyone else but Wendy was sitting.
“NO!” everyone screamed, and Terrence slammed the book shut lest the daughter see the contents.
Wendy walked over to the table and grabbed the comic book, blushing crimson as she saw what was inside. “Why...”
Meanwhile, Terrence shoved his manager out of the way, and stormed over to a nearby cupboard, pulling out one of the lighting wand’s that had been intended for fireworks. “Give me the book,” he demanded.
“No,” Wendy protested, setting the comic on the table, and standing protectively in front of it. “She obviously put time and effort into this, and even if we don’t like what’s in it, we are going to be grateful that someone thinks so highly of us that they would make that.”
“Yeah, and they thought REALLY highly of you, Terrence,” Pollaski snickered.
Cassie’s laughter redoubled at the off-hand remark, and even Wendy couldn’t keep herself from giggling as she blushed a deeper shade of crimson. Terrence waved the lighting wand at Pollaski, rage now on his face. “If you say one more word, you’re fired,” he said with deadly seriousness, then turned to his wife. “I’m not keeping that... THING.” he protested.
“It’s the thought that counts, Terrence,” Wendy scolded.
“AND WE ALL VERY WELL KNOW WHAT SHE’S BEEN THINKING!” Terrence bellowed.
“Speaking of which, where did it go?” Pollaski suddenly asked, pointing to the table. Both Terrence and Wendy turned around, and saw that save for a couple of unopened envelopes, the RV’s table was empty.
A zipping sound caught all of them by surprised, and the Birdz whirled as one towards Cassie DeSlair, who was quickly zipping up her duffel bag.
“What?” Cassie shrugged at the blank expressions of disbelief on her employers’ faces. “It’s not like any of you wanted it.”
Sunday July 4, 2010
Mormon Visitor Center
Independence, Missouri
8:35 PM Local Time
[So, when you name your city Independence, you better have one HELL of a fireworks show on the fourth of July. That’s what the Birdz are hoping as they have headed out to the local show. The scene opens in the middle of a large grassy field, not too far from the visitor center. Several thousand people have occupied the field, and blankets and lawn chairs can be seen spreading for at least a quarter mile in every direction. In the midst of it all sits the WhirlyBirdz, who have set up a blanket and lawn chairs of their own, and of course, a tripod for the camera. Right now, Terrence and Wendy are sitting in two of the chairs, although Cassie, Pollaski, and Theresa are off getting rootbeer floats.]
Wendy- “Good evening, everyone! Before Terrence cuts his last promo for Do or Die, we have an important announcement to make.”
[Terrence scoffs at this, and Wendy shoots him a slightly dark look, then goes back to smiling at the camera, obviously choosing her words carefully.]
Wendy- “Terrence and I greatly appreciate our fans. Without you coming out, and cheering us and the PWX on, we couldn’t do what we do. So thank you all for your support. We especially appreciate those who have taken their time and effort to write us letters or draw us pictures. We are flattered that so many of you think enough of us to invest your creativity on our behalf.”
[Slight pause, and Wendy shoots a sidelong glance at her husband.]
Wendy- “However, we would like to remind everyone that we have a three year old daughter. So please, if you send something in, please keep it PG-rated at the most, and we appreciate your understanding on the mat-”
Twister- “AND NO GAY STUFF!”
[Wendy’s cut off in mid sentence by the interruption, pauses for just a second, then turns slowly to regard her husband, her face turning redder by the second.]
Wendy- “Terrence...”
Twister- “Look, if you are, fine. There’s nothing wrong with that. But let’s get one thing straight here. And I do mean STRAIGHT. Terrence Thompson ain’t NOBODY’s ‘Pushin’ Cushion!’”
Wendy- “TERRENCE!”
[Wendy now has an expression on her face that could be best described as ‘utmost horror’, while Terrence looks fairly irritated.]
Wendy- “Are you done?”
Twister- “I just wanted to make sure everyone’s on the same page here. And NOT page twenty-three of that...”
[He stops at Wendy’s angry glare, and grins sheepishly.]
Twister- “Sorry. Anyways... so, tomorrow night is Do Or Die Three. The night when the WhirlyBirdz... will you stop looking at me like that?”
[The last of this is said to Wendy, who’s still seething with indignation at her husband (not like this is anything new). Finally, Wendy relaxes her steely gaze, and Terrence finds it’s safe enough to continue.]
Twister- “Thank you. So in less than twenty-four hours, the curtain will rise on Do Or Die Three. What a show it’s going to be. Wendy and I face the Kings Among men for the Tag Team Titles. Danny Szatkowski finally gets to rid himself of that piece of shit John Ojeda, and Brian Hollywood and Darin Zion lock themselves in a steel cage and bore us to death.”
[Ouch. Harshy-ness.]
Twister- “And of course, our illustrious champion Jacob Wright faces Jeremiah Belmont for the Grand Prix Championship. I have to say I’m a bit flattered by the buildup to this match. After all, when the champion of your fed spends an entire promo talking about how he beat you, you know you’re a big deal. Its almost like he’s getting ready to face me for the title, not Jeremiah.”
[Terrence sharply turns towards his wife.]
Twister- “He’s not, right? They haven’t changed the match or anything?”
[Wendy shakes her head.]
Wendy- “Not to my knowledge.”
Twister- “Cool. Cause that’d be pretty damn short notice. Not that I’d turn down a Grand Prix title shot, mind you.”
[Hint, hint]
Twister- “But thank you Jacob. I am truly touched that your victory over me meant that much to you. I still hope Jeremiah Rapture’s you back to the stone age, but now I might actually feel bad for you when it happens.”
[Grin]
Twister- “As far as my match goes, what else is there to say? John Pariah’s probably off trying to figure out how to cut a promo via Twitter, and Michael Norcia has turned his focus to the living legend, Sami Jacobs. I suppose that’s understandable. Wendy and I- we’re generally not out to hurt you. We’ll kick your ass enough to get the ‘dubya’, but we don’t go around looking to put our opponents in the hospital. Sami, well, if he could, he would. Unfortunately for Sami, he can’t. But nonetheless, it’s clear that the Hand of God would rather wrap his fingers around two King of the Death Match points than his tag titles, and considering the inevitable consequence of that, I can’t complain.”
[Another grin accompanied by a chuckle from the Mechanical Mayhem.]
Twister- “Just do me a favor tonight. Give those belts a good wipe down before our match tomorrow. When Wendy and I put them around our waist, I want them to fucking GLEAM. And please let us know which one was Norcia’s. Mike’s probably got the stench of Jack Daniels all over the thing, so I’ll take that one so that my wife doesn’t have to deal with the smell.”
[What a gentleman!]
Twister- “But for now, I think I’ll just settle for wishing everyone out there a happy and safe Fourth of July. We’ll see you all tomorrow.”
[As the camera fades, Pollaski, Theresa, and Cassie return into the view, carrying five large root beer floats between them. Terrence and Wendy reach for theirs... and we hit black.]
Sunday, July 4, 2010
EPISODE 24: Click, Click, BOOM
Friday July 2, 2010
Polk Street- Sidewalk
Indianapolis, Indiana
6:12 AM Local Time
“You know, Dolores, if you smoke while you’re power walking, it kind of defeats the purpose.”
Dolores Weatherspoon looked over at her walking partner, her eyes narrowing. “So does eating three devil’s food snackcakes immediately after getting home, Petunia,” she shot back.
The other woman laughed, a most unpleasant sound to most ears, as the two women crossed the street, arms pumping as they continued their morning exercise. Immediately after stepping onto the opposite curb, Petunia stopped, looking at the lawn of the house in front of her. “Look at this, Dolores,” she said self-righteously. “The Allen’s lawn is at lest five inches in legnth, and everyone knows that the neighborhood charter clearly indicates that lawns must be mowed before they reach three.”
Dolores nodded as she took another drag on her cigarette. “You’re going to need to issue a citation,” she said.
Petunia sighed dramatically. “Sadly, yes,” she said, and then resumed her walk. As president of the Neighbor’s Association for the Pike Creek subdivision, it was her duty to issue citations to all offenders of the neighborhood charter. It was hard work, she knew, keeping the neighborhood in line, but it was a task the retired sixty-three year old woman undertook with the greatest zeal. Some might call her a busybody, but in Petunia Dudley’s mind, she was merely doing her job.
“Oh, my!” Dolores said, suddenly stopping in her tracks. “Look at the Thompsons!”
Petunia turned her head at the next house on her side of the street, and scowled. Where the front window had been, a blue tarp now covered the portal. She snorted angrily. “Looks like another citation for the Thompson’s then.” she proclaimed self-righteously. “That’s their sixth this year.”
Dolores chuckled maliciously at the proclamation. She had never forgiven that bitch Wendy for having the audacity to oppose her for vice-president in the last committee elections, and while the young woman had narrowly lost, the pressure of the election was more than her sixty-five year old heart could have bore. Beside, the woman was a professional wrestler for crying out loud! Who wanted a professional wrestler to represent their neighborhood?
“And their trash can doesn’t have a lid on either. Come on, Dolores,” Petunia finally said, resuming her walk with a disdainful sniff. “I want to see if the rhododendron plant Betty’s been bragging about is really that good.”
Dolores stared at the blue tarp covering the window for just a second longer, then followed her friend, tossing what was left of the cigarette into the lid-less trash can sitting at the edge of the driveway.
Friday July 2, 2010
The Nest- Master Bedroom
Indianapolis, Indiana
6:15 AM Local Time
Terrence Thompson grimaced as his hand slammed into the snooze button of the alarm clock. Morning already- and today was going to be hellishly busy. The glass company was showing up at nine o’clock sharp to replace the window, followed by training at eleven. And finally, the departure for Kansas City, hopefully no later than 2:00. He hoped to get at least as far as Saint Louis tonight, and finish the drive to the Do Or Die supercard tomorrow morning, hopefully arriving in time for the autograph session Wendy and him were scheduled to attend tomorrow afternoon.
A rustle to his side alerted him, and he turned over to look at his wife, who was smiling at him, brushing her red hair out of her face. “Good morning,” she said warmly to her husband.
“Morning to yourself,” Terrence said, plucking at the strap of her nightdress. “Its Independence Day weekend, and you’re looking awfully patriotic today.”
“Oh?” Wendy asked, smiling despite her obvious confusion.
“Yeah, your hair is red, your skin is white. So I say we fuck until we’re both blue.”
Wendy arched an eyebrow. “Terrence, that might be the WORST line of dirty-talk you’ve ever tried on me.”
Nonetheless, their lips met, and Terrence pulled his wife in close, embracing her...
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!*
Obviously, the sudden sound of an explosion, not to mention the vibrating of the house, forced the two LoveBirdz apart. Wendy looked at her husband, apprehension entering into her eyes. “What was that?”
Terrence shrugged, and immediately the two got out of bed, running to the window. Wendy got their first, “Oh my God!” she shrieked.
Terrence joined by her side, his jaw-dropping in astonishment.
Their trash-can, placed curbside the night before for their Friday morning pickup had literally been blown to pieces. Even so, the show wasn’t quite over, several fountains were still going, showering sparks in all directions, while a few rockets exploded overhead. Terrence watched as a spinner worked its way across the street, coming to rest in another lawn. Another series of explosions rocked the neighborhood as every firecracker in the garbage can seemingly went off at once. A Roman Candle shot flaming balls that bounced off the RV, landed on the sidewalk, and exploded. Wendy shrieked as an artillery shell shot dangerously close to the window, exploding just before it reached.
Then, all was still. Both WhirlyBirdz stared out the window at the carnage. Radiating out from the small crater now at the edge of the driveway were several scorch marks, and smoldering rubber pieces of what used to be the trash can. Garbage had been flung all over the street, and wide-eyed neighbors were rushing out of their houses, staring in awestruck terror at the carnage. Terrence grimaced that both of his vehicles hadn’t escaped the disaster. Garbage and firework shells covered his Charger, and he could see several scorch marks on his RV. Oddly enough, Wendy’s Vespa, idly resting on a kickstand next to the Charger, had been completely unscathed.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have thrown the fireworks in the garbage can,” Wendy finally said weakly. “Oh no,” she groaned again as an elderly woman, her jogging clothes still smoldering from the explosion, hobbled onto her front lawn. “Dolores.”
“THOMPSOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!” the woman screamed.
Wendy covered her face in her hands as Dolores’ condemnation rang out through the neighborhood. “We’re going to get ANOTHER citation,” she moaned.
Beside her, Terrence began to laugh, and he hugged his distraught wife close. “That’s six for us! Looks like we might just break the neighborhood record after all!”
Friday July 2, 2010
The RV- Cockpit
Interstate 70 near Effingham, Illinois
11:21 PM Local Time
[Needless to say, the WhirlyBirdz didn’t hit that 2pm departure time.]
[By the time they had gotten the mess caused by the exploding garbage can cleaned up, and the new window installed into the house, it was time to hit the gym for their training session (which went well.) After that, they still needed to pack and load the RV up, chase down Chaunticleer to get him in his cage, and receive their TWO citations courtesy of the Neighborhood Watch Committee (That’s seven!) Finally, at just after six o’clock, the front door to the Nest was locked, the RV engine started, and the trip to Kansas City finally got underway.]
[So we open up now in the RV, which is making the late night drive through the Illinois countryside towards St. Louis. As with any promo originating from the WhirlyBirdz’ cockpit, the camera has been mounted on the RV’s dashboard. However, this time the camera is aimed not at Terrence, but Wendy, who’s sitting in the passenger seat. Behind them, the lights are off, giving a clear indication that the RV’s other inhabitants have all gone to sleep.]
[Wendy looks as prim and proper as ever, wearing a pale yellow flower-print blouse and a light blue pair of jeans. And of course, her seat belt. Click it or ticket, motherfuckers.]
Wendy- “Well, obviously Terry and I are on the road the Do Or Die pay-per-view. I was going to have Terrence and I sing a duet of “I’m Going to Kansas City” from the musical Oklahoma, but Terrence threatened to shove me out the door while we were still moving.”
[Hopefully he was kidding. Nonetheless, no singing today.]
Wendy- “I suppose before I go any further, I should probably address the three hundred seventy-five pound gorilla in the room. Earlier this week, word came in that Victor Mandrake has joined Pro-Wrestling X. I’d say it’s good to see you again, Victor, but we’d both know that I’d be lying. You can say whatever reason you have for joining PWX, but I know the truth. You are here because of Terrence and I.”
[Obviously, Wendy looks hardly happy about this. Next to her, Terrence can be heard shifting angrily, but he remains quiet. Of course the Mechanical Mayhem is no happier about Mandrake coming to the PWX than his wife is]]
Wendy- “I’m done with you, Mandrake. I fulfilled all my obligations to you at Summer Games, and with the World Wrestling Alliance now nothing but a memory, there is nothing between us any more. I no longer bear the burden or responsibility of Rick Logan’s death. My conscience is clear. You eliminated me from the Summer Games tournament fair and square, and I have no hard-feelings over how the tournament ended. What happened after I fell to the floor is between you, Boston Bancroft, and Eric Dane. Leave me out of it.”
[Wendy’s gaze into the camera becomes hard, however.]
Wendy- “But you probably already knew that I felt that way. And yet, you pursued Terrence and I nevertheless. I could give you warnings and threats about what will happen to you if you even think about messing with my family, but I know you won’t listen. But all actions have consequences, Victor. Remember that before you make your next move.”
[Big sigh.]
Wendy- “Now, onto other, more exciting matters. We are now less than seventy-two hours away from Do or Die, and while Michael Norcia has saw fit to cut a promo for his death match against Sami Jacobs, he has remained strangely silent in reguards to the tag team championship.”
[Wendy shakes her head sadly.]
Wendy- “I suppose it shows where his priorities lie.”
[To be fair, beating the shit out of Sami Jacobs is FUN. Wrestling the WhirlyBirdz tends to be a bit on the aggrivating side.]
Wendy- “As far as his partner goes, I read your blog, John. My husband has already had his say on the matter, and for the most part I agree with him, save for the crass wording he elected to use.”
[Wendy shoots a sidelong glance at her driving husband, although she obviously can’t be too upset. She’d known since before their marriage that the Twister’s hardly one to speak in dainty eloquence.]
Wendy- “You claim that Do or Die is YOUR pay-per-view. But here’s the question you need to ask yourself, John. What was really the star of that show? Was it you and Michael Norcia, or was it the razor wire you foolishly surrounded yourselves with? Had you taken away the wire, would that match still live on in your mind? Would it still be the, forgive me, ‘EPIC’ encounter you claim it is today? Or would it be just another match, one of thousands that take place throughout America every single year?”
[Given the slight sarcasm in her voice, it’s probably a fair assumption what Wendy thinks the answer to that question is.]
Wendy- “I have never needed gimmicks to put on a memorable match. My wins over Wolf, Misty Xiao, and Mike Bell. Terrence and I in the 2004 Crockett Cup. Even my loss to Rune Archer. Not a single one was contested under a gimmick. And yet those remain the best matches of my career, the ones fans point to when they see me on the street. And I’m proud of that, because I know it was my opponent and I who made the memories, not any tables, chairs, barbed wire, or anything else.”
[Not to mention the last time she was in a true deathmatch... well... ask Victor Mandrake what happened.]
Wendy- “And yet, there is one thing you are correct about, John. Despite all my past success. Despite that my only loss thus far in PWX competition was to my own husband, I have floundered in the singles division. My wins have come over Lust, Mercedes Morgan, Uriah Thomas, and Brian Hollywood by disqualification. A little disconcerting, considering that I know I’m more than capable of facing better than that. But your brother honestly cannot seem to figure out what to do with me... or any female in the PWX for that matter. How James Silkk has gotten a shot at the Grand Prix Championship and Valerie Belmont hasn’t is an absolute crime.”
[Wendy bows her head, and sighs. She hates airing her frustrations over the airwaves, but Pariah had breached the subject, and she might as well have her say.]
Wendy- “I suppose it sounds like I’m complaining. I really do love being in the PWX, but when I look at what great talent there is to compete against here, and I’m constantly being given... other people to face, it is frustrating. And it’s especially frustrating when the president’s own BROTHER feels fit to mock my lack of progress in the PWX singles division. Every week, I go out there, and I take on who I’m given, and every week, I give every effort I have. Beyond that, there’s nothing more I can do.”
[Well, she COULD take the John Ojeda route and attack someone with a pizza cutter. But we all know she won’t be doing that anytime soon.]
Wendy- “But at Do Or Die, there IS something I can do. I can beat the Kings Among Men, and I can return the WhirlyBirdz to the top of the tag scene. And together, Terrence and I WILL do so.”
[A small smile.]
Wendy- “John, you’ve begged me and Terrence to bring everything we got. You’re desperate for a challenge, you say. On Monday night, you will learn to be careful what you wish for.”
[That small smile breaks into a tremendous grin as Wendy stares into the camera.]
Wendy- “Because you sure as heck are going to get it.”
[And with that, we fade. St. Louis isn’t too far away, and considering the Birdz’ day, they could definitely use the sleep]
Polk Street- Sidewalk
Indianapolis, Indiana
6:12 AM Local Time
“You know, Dolores, if you smoke while you’re power walking, it kind of defeats the purpose.”
Dolores Weatherspoon looked over at her walking partner, her eyes narrowing. “So does eating three devil’s food snackcakes immediately after getting home, Petunia,” she shot back.
The other woman laughed, a most unpleasant sound to most ears, as the two women crossed the street, arms pumping as they continued their morning exercise. Immediately after stepping onto the opposite curb, Petunia stopped, looking at the lawn of the house in front of her. “Look at this, Dolores,” she said self-righteously. “The Allen’s lawn is at lest five inches in legnth, and everyone knows that the neighborhood charter clearly indicates that lawns must be mowed before they reach three.”
Dolores nodded as she took another drag on her cigarette. “You’re going to need to issue a citation,” she said.
Petunia sighed dramatically. “Sadly, yes,” she said, and then resumed her walk. As president of the Neighbor’s Association for the Pike Creek subdivision, it was her duty to issue citations to all offenders of the neighborhood charter. It was hard work, she knew, keeping the neighborhood in line, but it was a task the retired sixty-three year old woman undertook with the greatest zeal. Some might call her a busybody, but in Petunia Dudley’s mind, she was merely doing her job.
“Oh, my!” Dolores said, suddenly stopping in her tracks. “Look at the Thompsons!”
Petunia turned her head at the next house on her side of the street, and scowled. Where the front window had been, a blue tarp now covered the portal. She snorted angrily. “Looks like another citation for the Thompson’s then.” she proclaimed self-righteously. “That’s their sixth this year.”
Dolores chuckled maliciously at the proclamation. She had never forgiven that bitch Wendy for having the audacity to oppose her for vice-president in the last committee elections, and while the young woman had narrowly lost, the pressure of the election was more than her sixty-five year old heart could have bore. Beside, the woman was a professional wrestler for crying out loud! Who wanted a professional wrestler to represent their neighborhood?
“And their trash can doesn’t have a lid on either. Come on, Dolores,” Petunia finally said, resuming her walk with a disdainful sniff. “I want to see if the rhododendron plant Betty’s been bragging about is really that good.”
Dolores stared at the blue tarp covering the window for just a second longer, then followed her friend, tossing what was left of the cigarette into the lid-less trash can sitting at the edge of the driveway.
Friday July 2, 2010
The Nest- Master Bedroom
Indianapolis, Indiana
6:15 AM Local Time
Terrence Thompson grimaced as his hand slammed into the snooze button of the alarm clock. Morning already- and today was going to be hellishly busy. The glass company was showing up at nine o’clock sharp to replace the window, followed by training at eleven. And finally, the departure for Kansas City, hopefully no later than 2:00. He hoped to get at least as far as Saint Louis tonight, and finish the drive to the Do Or Die supercard tomorrow morning, hopefully arriving in time for the autograph session Wendy and him were scheduled to attend tomorrow afternoon.
A rustle to his side alerted him, and he turned over to look at his wife, who was smiling at him, brushing her red hair out of her face. “Good morning,” she said warmly to her husband.
“Morning to yourself,” Terrence said, plucking at the strap of her nightdress. “Its Independence Day weekend, and you’re looking awfully patriotic today.”
“Oh?” Wendy asked, smiling despite her obvious confusion.
“Yeah, your hair is red, your skin is white. So I say we fuck until we’re both blue.”
Wendy arched an eyebrow. “Terrence, that might be the WORST line of dirty-talk you’ve ever tried on me.”
Nonetheless, their lips met, and Terrence pulled his wife in close, embracing her...
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!*
Obviously, the sudden sound of an explosion, not to mention the vibrating of the house, forced the two LoveBirdz apart. Wendy looked at her husband, apprehension entering into her eyes. “What was that?”
Terrence shrugged, and immediately the two got out of bed, running to the window. Wendy got their first, “Oh my God!” she shrieked.
Terrence joined by her side, his jaw-dropping in astonishment.
Their trash-can, placed curbside the night before for their Friday morning pickup had literally been blown to pieces. Even so, the show wasn’t quite over, several fountains were still going, showering sparks in all directions, while a few rockets exploded overhead. Terrence watched as a spinner worked its way across the street, coming to rest in another lawn. Another series of explosions rocked the neighborhood as every firecracker in the garbage can seemingly went off at once. A Roman Candle shot flaming balls that bounced off the RV, landed on the sidewalk, and exploded. Wendy shrieked as an artillery shell shot dangerously close to the window, exploding just before it reached.
Then, all was still. Both WhirlyBirdz stared out the window at the carnage. Radiating out from the small crater now at the edge of the driveway were several scorch marks, and smoldering rubber pieces of what used to be the trash can. Garbage had been flung all over the street, and wide-eyed neighbors were rushing out of their houses, staring in awestruck terror at the carnage. Terrence grimaced that both of his vehicles hadn’t escaped the disaster. Garbage and firework shells covered his Charger, and he could see several scorch marks on his RV. Oddly enough, Wendy’s Vespa, idly resting on a kickstand next to the Charger, had been completely unscathed.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have thrown the fireworks in the garbage can,” Wendy finally said weakly. “Oh no,” she groaned again as an elderly woman, her jogging clothes still smoldering from the explosion, hobbled onto her front lawn. “Dolores.”
“THOMPSOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!” the woman screamed.
Wendy covered her face in her hands as Dolores’ condemnation rang out through the neighborhood. “We’re going to get ANOTHER citation,” she moaned.
Beside her, Terrence began to laugh, and he hugged his distraught wife close. “That’s six for us! Looks like we might just break the neighborhood record after all!”
Friday July 2, 2010
The RV- Cockpit
Interstate 70 near Effingham, Illinois
11:21 PM Local Time
[Needless to say, the WhirlyBirdz didn’t hit that 2pm departure time.]
[By the time they had gotten the mess caused by the exploding garbage can cleaned up, and the new window installed into the house, it was time to hit the gym for their training session (which went well.) After that, they still needed to pack and load the RV up, chase down Chaunticleer to get him in his cage, and receive their TWO citations courtesy of the Neighborhood Watch Committee (That’s seven!) Finally, at just after six o’clock, the front door to the Nest was locked, the RV engine started, and the trip to Kansas City finally got underway.]
[So we open up now in the RV, which is making the late night drive through the Illinois countryside towards St. Louis. As with any promo originating from the WhirlyBirdz’ cockpit, the camera has been mounted on the RV’s dashboard. However, this time the camera is aimed not at Terrence, but Wendy, who’s sitting in the passenger seat. Behind them, the lights are off, giving a clear indication that the RV’s other inhabitants have all gone to sleep.]
[Wendy looks as prim and proper as ever, wearing a pale yellow flower-print blouse and a light blue pair of jeans. And of course, her seat belt. Click it or ticket, motherfuckers.]
Wendy- “Well, obviously Terry and I are on the road the Do Or Die pay-per-view. I was going to have Terrence and I sing a duet of “I’m Going to Kansas City” from the musical Oklahoma, but Terrence threatened to shove me out the door while we were still moving.”
[Hopefully he was kidding. Nonetheless, no singing today.]
Wendy- “I suppose before I go any further, I should probably address the three hundred seventy-five pound gorilla in the room. Earlier this week, word came in that Victor Mandrake has joined Pro-Wrestling X. I’d say it’s good to see you again, Victor, but we’d both know that I’d be lying. You can say whatever reason you have for joining PWX, but I know the truth. You are here because of Terrence and I.”
[Obviously, Wendy looks hardly happy about this. Next to her, Terrence can be heard shifting angrily, but he remains quiet. Of course the Mechanical Mayhem is no happier about Mandrake coming to the PWX than his wife is]]
Wendy- “I’m done with you, Mandrake. I fulfilled all my obligations to you at Summer Games, and with the World Wrestling Alliance now nothing but a memory, there is nothing between us any more. I no longer bear the burden or responsibility of Rick Logan’s death. My conscience is clear. You eliminated me from the Summer Games tournament fair and square, and I have no hard-feelings over how the tournament ended. What happened after I fell to the floor is between you, Boston Bancroft, and Eric Dane. Leave me out of it.”
[Wendy’s gaze into the camera becomes hard, however.]
Wendy- “But you probably already knew that I felt that way. And yet, you pursued Terrence and I nevertheless. I could give you warnings and threats about what will happen to you if you even think about messing with my family, but I know you won’t listen. But all actions have consequences, Victor. Remember that before you make your next move.”
[Big sigh.]
Wendy- “Now, onto other, more exciting matters. We are now less than seventy-two hours away from Do or Die, and while Michael Norcia has saw fit to cut a promo for his death match against Sami Jacobs, he has remained strangely silent in reguards to the tag team championship.”
[Wendy shakes her head sadly.]
Wendy- “I suppose it shows where his priorities lie.”
[To be fair, beating the shit out of Sami Jacobs is FUN. Wrestling the WhirlyBirdz tends to be a bit on the aggrivating side.]
Wendy- “As far as his partner goes, I read your blog, John. My husband has already had his say on the matter, and for the most part I agree with him, save for the crass wording he elected to use.”
[Wendy shoots a sidelong glance at her driving husband, although she obviously can’t be too upset. She’d known since before their marriage that the Twister’s hardly one to speak in dainty eloquence.]
Wendy- “You claim that Do or Die is YOUR pay-per-view. But here’s the question you need to ask yourself, John. What was really the star of that show? Was it you and Michael Norcia, or was it the razor wire you foolishly surrounded yourselves with? Had you taken away the wire, would that match still live on in your mind? Would it still be the, forgive me, ‘EPIC’ encounter you claim it is today? Or would it be just another match, one of thousands that take place throughout America every single year?”
[Given the slight sarcasm in her voice, it’s probably a fair assumption what Wendy thinks the answer to that question is.]
Wendy- “I have never needed gimmicks to put on a memorable match. My wins over Wolf, Misty Xiao, and Mike Bell. Terrence and I in the 2004 Crockett Cup. Even my loss to Rune Archer. Not a single one was contested under a gimmick. And yet those remain the best matches of my career, the ones fans point to when they see me on the street. And I’m proud of that, because I know it was my opponent and I who made the memories, not any tables, chairs, barbed wire, or anything else.”
[Not to mention the last time she was in a true deathmatch... well... ask Victor Mandrake what happened.]
Wendy- “And yet, there is one thing you are correct about, John. Despite all my past success. Despite that my only loss thus far in PWX competition was to my own husband, I have floundered in the singles division. My wins have come over Lust, Mercedes Morgan, Uriah Thomas, and Brian Hollywood by disqualification. A little disconcerting, considering that I know I’m more than capable of facing better than that. But your brother honestly cannot seem to figure out what to do with me... or any female in the PWX for that matter. How James Silkk has gotten a shot at the Grand Prix Championship and Valerie Belmont hasn’t is an absolute crime.”
[Wendy bows her head, and sighs. She hates airing her frustrations over the airwaves, but Pariah had breached the subject, and she might as well have her say.]
Wendy- “I suppose it sounds like I’m complaining. I really do love being in the PWX, but when I look at what great talent there is to compete against here, and I’m constantly being given... other people to face, it is frustrating. And it’s especially frustrating when the president’s own BROTHER feels fit to mock my lack of progress in the PWX singles division. Every week, I go out there, and I take on who I’m given, and every week, I give every effort I have. Beyond that, there’s nothing more I can do.”
[Well, she COULD take the John Ojeda route and attack someone with a pizza cutter. But we all know she won’t be doing that anytime soon.]
Wendy- “But at Do Or Die, there IS something I can do. I can beat the Kings Among Men, and I can return the WhirlyBirdz to the top of the tag scene. And together, Terrence and I WILL do so.”
[A small smile.]
Wendy- “John, you’ve begged me and Terrence to bring everything we got. You’re desperate for a challenge, you say. On Monday night, you will learn to be careful what you wish for.”
[That small smile breaks into a tremendous grin as Wendy stares into the camera.]
Wendy- “Because you sure as heck are going to get it.”
[And with that, we fade. St. Louis isn’t too far away, and considering the Birdz’ day, they could definitely use the sleep]
Saturday, July 3, 2010
EPISODE 23: The Bombs Bursting in Air
Thursday July 1, 2010
The Nest- Driveway
Indianapolis, Indiana
11:51 AM Local Time
*RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA!!!!*
The sound of firecrackers shattered the relatively quiet late morning air over the WhirlyBirdz neighborhood. Terrence, Pollaski and Theresa had arrived home Tuesday evening with no less than a dozen bags, each packed full of fireworks in preparation for the upcoming Independence Day Weekend. With so many explosives, Terrence had known that there was no way possible for them to set them all off on Sunday Night. So, of course, why not start early?
Already the Thompson family driveway resembled something of a warzone. Saturn Missile batteries lay devoid of all ammo, tanks lay overturned where they had exploded, and the shells of exploded firecrackers dotted the landscape. Standing over the carnage were Terrence Thompson and Daniel Pollaski, who were each carrying a lighting wand. A short distance away (too short, her mother had griped) stood Theresa, who had cheered with abandon at every explosion. Wendy had reluctantly agreed to let her daughter watch the daytime show, although Terrence had caught her more than once staring out the front bay window, a disapproving expression on her face.
Bah, he loved his wife, but she needed to let her hair down more, and have some fun.
"Aw, man!" Pollaski griped behind Terrence, and the Mechanical Mayhem turned around. Pollaski was holding up a decent sized rocket, but one of the tail fins had been torn in half. "I was looking forward to doing this one."
Terrence shrugged. "Give it here," he said, and his manager obliged. Terrence walked to the side of the driveway, sticking the rocket into the ground. "Get on the other side of the driveway, Theresa," he commanded, as he pulled out the lighter wand.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" the suddenly cautious Pollaski asked, edging towards Theresa, who was now a good fifty feet from the unlit rocket.
"Why not?" Terrence said mildly. "What's the worst that can happen? We'll stand a good ways away. Besides, those tail fins are probably just for aesthetic purposes."
"Well, when you put it that way, all my fears evaporate," Pollaski said sarcastically, backing even further away.
Terrence looked over at his retreating manager. "Wuss," he muttered under his breath, then lit the fuse, quickly backing away.
WHOOOOSH!!!!
The rocket took off, and Terrence smiled, knowing he was right- for about a quarter of a second. Then the rocket banked sharply to the right making a beeline for the house...
CRASH!!!!!!
Terrence's jaw dropped as the rocket crashed through the bay window overlooking the front lawn. He heard the tinkling of the shards of glass, and a terror filled feminine scream emanating from inside the house. He froze, standing and staring at the broken living room window. He was dimly aware that Dan Pollaski was walking up from behind, and clapping a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
"When you said 'aesthetic purposes', did you mean to the rocket, or to the house?" Pollaski asked, then roared in laughter.
Some dark corner of Terrence's mind told him that he really should punch his manager, but the vast majority of him was too numb to do anything but stare at the broken window in slack-jawed disbelief.
Then the front door opened, and Terrence knew that the hour of his death was nigh.
Wendy Briese-Thompson's flame-red hair was a mess, loose strands flying about the dark green scrunchy that held what was left of her customary ponytail. Her clothes were similarly rumpled, giving the impression that the young woman had dove to the ground the moment the rocket burst through the window. She had gone completely white, and was trembling, although whether that was from fright or rage Terrence couldn't immediately tell. In her hands were a pair of tongs, clamped around the smoldering remains of the rocket, which were embedded with several shards of glass. Terrence grinned sheepishly as his wife approached him, her emerald eyes glaring into his as she thrust the rocket towards him.
"I believe you're missing something," Wendy said, the mild tone in her voice belying the fire that had crept into her emerald eyes.
Terrence gingerly grabbed the rocket, taking care to avoid the shards of glass sticking out from the shell. It was no longer smoldering, but it was still quite warm to the touch. "Want me to call the window repair company?" He asked.
"No," Wendy said with an aura of false-pleasantry. "I'll do that. You're going to be busy with OTHER things," she continued, beckoning to the garbage can lying on the side of the house. Her face suddenly turned hard, and she glared at her husband. "EVERYTHING, Terrence. Oh, by the way, we have the ring for training at two."
Terrence deflated as he caught her meaning, and realized that his plans for the greatest Fourth of July weekend ever had just come crashing down. Still, he supposed he couldn't blame his wife's anger- he did almost just burn down the house with a firework, after all.
Wendy silently wheeled around, and headed back into the house, no doubt to find and call a window repair company. Theresa, deciding that whatever mommy might be doing would be more interesting, ran after in pursuit, leaving a very dejected Terrence and Pollaski standing in the driveway.
"We could put them in the trunk of your car." Pollaski reasoned, but Terrence shook his head.
"Nah, she'll probably check the can tonight anyways. Now grab a broom, and start sweeping the shells," Terrence commanded, sulking over to the garbage can, and tossing the rocket inside. He then walked over to the eleven remaining bags of fireworks, and began dropping them into the can one by one.
"When did you become so pussy-whipped?" Pollaski grumbled as he began to sweep the driveway into a nice little pile.
"Sometimes, you've gotta sacrifice something for the sake of peace," Terrence said with a small smile. "I don't have to get my way all the time."
"Yeah, but FIREWORKS, man!"
Terrence shrugged. "Just the way it is sometimes."
Thursday July 1, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
8:32 PM Local Time
Twister- "A blog? Are you fucking kidding me? One of my opponents just cut a BLOG on me? Now I know I've seen everything."
[Alright, we are opening up in the WhirlyBirdz living room, with Terrence sitting in his recliner chair, but things are obviously different than normal. Namely, the window is gone. In its place is a blue tarp, which pretty much kills the view of the WhirlyBirdz scenic front lawn. Guess the window guys couldn't make the repair until tomorrow.]
[Despite the obvious disappointment over the Thompson family matriarch's sudden ban on fireworks, the Mechanical Mayhem seems to be in a good mood. After all, any argument he and his wife have had about pyrotechnics safety pales in comparison to the opportunity both have on Monday, when they get their first shot at the PWX Tag Team Championships.]
Twister- "Oh well, I suppose its for the better. If I had to listen to that bit of crap, I probably would have been forced to put an axe through one of my televisions. At least by reading it I didn't have to listen to John Pariah's voice, and John was even nice enough to put the really important parts in bold. It's those little things that make those Internet posts feel so special, you know. Although a bit of spell-check wouldn't have hurt. Adrenaine? Definantly? How the hell are you gonna beat Wendy and I when Mavis Beacon would kick your ass?"
[Terrence shrugs, although a slight shudder, probably from nightmares about eighth grade keyboarding class.]
Twister- "But you're throwing a lot of stones in that post, John. The problem is, you seem to be living in a glass house. You falsely claim that Wendy and I are better singles wrestlers who have slunk to the tag division because we weren't making any progress on our own. What the fuck are you and Norcia? You get your ass handed to you by John Ojeda, and suddenly, you're turning to every former enemy you have on speed-dial, begging them to put aside your differences so you can find some success. You got Tyler Graves to play along with you for a week, that didn't work out, so now you've brought in the so-called "Hand of God". So if this incarnation doesn't work out, is Danny Szatkowski next on the desperation partner depth chart? You could call yourselves The Brit and the Twit."
[Oh yeah, absolutely awful lame joke, but Terrence chuckles nonetheless.]
Twister- "It's obvious that you have no clue about the success Wendy and I garnered during our first run as a tag team, and I won't bore you with tales of glory against tag teams that you likely have never heard of. But I will say that there's a damn good reason my wife and I are in the WfWA Hall of Fame as a team, and not as singles. We've beaten the best the WfWA had to offer, and we will beat the best the PWX has to offer, whether its the Kings Among Men, the Belmonts, the Fallen, whoever the hell JPO decides to put in our way."
[Small shrug]
Twister- "And I'll be the first to admit that we haven't exactly faced the fiercest competition during our march through the PWX Tag Ranks. I'm fully aware that beating Punch and Pie is hardly any form of achievement. But there you go throwing your stones again, Johnny. Who exactly have you defended against, again? The Fallen? Yeah, we beat them too. And come to think of it, considering you were James Silkk's mentor, their lack of ability doesn't exactly speak positive things for you. And of course, your so-called 'epic' three-on-two beat-down of Cash Money and Mikal Grayson. After those two insane challenges, I'd be ready to declare my supremacy too."
[/sarcasm]
Twister- "Let's just lay it all out in the open. Each team is going to be the toughest test the other has had in their PWX tenure. So let's not get all into this crap about who beat who, because we've both faced fairly shitty opponents in the tag division. In reality, besides the Kings and the Birdz, there's really only one other credible tag team remaining in Pro-Wrestling X, and if I recall, the one time you took on the Belmont's, it didn't really end well for you."
[Ah, there's the infamous cocky grin from the Twister. Although he apparently does feel secure enough to leave out that he's 3-0 against said Belmonts in singles competition. Just sayin'.]
Twister- "But we can both name-drop and give history lessons until the cows come home and the fans fall asleep. Because that's all in the past. Let's talk about the future for a second, Pariah. The future of the PWX Tag Team Division resides in Indianapolis, not Crown Point. You boys may be bigger and stronger, but I can guarantee you that my wife and I are faster, more technically sound, and we will have greater chemistry in that ring than you could ever hope to achieve. It's one of the perks of being married to your tag partner."
[There's other perks, too. However, due to the risk of pissing off said wife/tag partner, Terrence won't be mentioning them on camera.]
Twister- "Now, as far as you go, Michael, you seem an interesting sort. When you came back to the PWX for your match at Full Throttle, you gave such an interesting story about how you had been away from the PWX for YEARS, and how those letters had NEVER crossed your mind until that fateful day when John Pariah rang you up with a proposal to bail his ass out in Razor Wire Warfare? It's a good tale, but it makes me wonder... if you had been away from the PWX for YEARS... who the hell was that at the very first Adrenaline following PWX's return last September?"
[Twister appears to be thinking for just a second. It's actually the same expression he carries when he's constipated.]
Twister- "Then again, if I lost to Jackson, I'd probably want to forget about showing up too."
[BURN!]
Twister- "Michael, you seem to me to be a victim of your own success. You're the King of the Death Match, which you insist on telling us every time you open your mouth. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't have a problem with "Extreme Rules" in wrestling, at least not to the extent that my wife does. Hell, whacking someone over the head with a chair is an efficient way to get a win, and the funny noise you get is somewhat of a bonus. Not to mention it's a GREAT way of relieving stress. But here's the question- how one-dimensional are you? Are you another John Ojeda, so quick to proclaim dominance in a death match, but then folds like a paper fan the moment all the toys are taken away?"
[Terrence shakes his head and snorts in derision.]
Twister- "This isn't King of the Death Match or Razor Wire Warfare. This is true tag team wrestling, and if you want to walk around proclaiming yourselves the dominant tag team in the WORLD, you better know how to win a straight up wrestling match. Other than your own ability, and your partners, there isn't a damn thing in this world that can save you from the Mechanical Mayhem and his wife."
[Could have saved by a firework mishap, but that already got the kibosh. Time to wrap it up.]
Twister- "Over and over again, all I hear is that the Kings reign supreme. Well, it's time to prove it. A wise man once said, to be the best, you've got to beat the best."
[Terrence spreads his arms wide, in a clear challenge and invitation.]
Twister- "Take your best shot, Your Highnesses"
[Fade]
The Nest- Driveway
Indianapolis, Indiana
11:51 AM Local Time
*RATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATATA!!!!*
The sound of firecrackers shattered the relatively quiet late morning air over the WhirlyBirdz neighborhood. Terrence, Pollaski and Theresa had arrived home Tuesday evening with no less than a dozen bags, each packed full of fireworks in preparation for the upcoming Independence Day Weekend. With so many explosives, Terrence had known that there was no way possible for them to set them all off on Sunday Night. So, of course, why not start early?
Already the Thompson family driveway resembled something of a warzone. Saturn Missile batteries lay devoid of all ammo, tanks lay overturned where they had exploded, and the shells of exploded firecrackers dotted the landscape. Standing over the carnage were Terrence Thompson and Daniel Pollaski, who were each carrying a lighting wand. A short distance away (too short, her mother had griped) stood Theresa, who had cheered with abandon at every explosion. Wendy had reluctantly agreed to let her daughter watch the daytime show, although Terrence had caught her more than once staring out the front bay window, a disapproving expression on her face.
Bah, he loved his wife, but she needed to let her hair down more, and have some fun.
"Aw, man!" Pollaski griped behind Terrence, and the Mechanical Mayhem turned around. Pollaski was holding up a decent sized rocket, but one of the tail fins had been torn in half. "I was looking forward to doing this one."
Terrence shrugged. "Give it here," he said, and his manager obliged. Terrence walked to the side of the driveway, sticking the rocket into the ground. "Get on the other side of the driveway, Theresa," he commanded, as he pulled out the lighter wand.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" the suddenly cautious Pollaski asked, edging towards Theresa, who was now a good fifty feet from the unlit rocket.
"Why not?" Terrence said mildly. "What's the worst that can happen? We'll stand a good ways away. Besides, those tail fins are probably just for aesthetic purposes."
"Well, when you put it that way, all my fears evaporate," Pollaski said sarcastically, backing even further away.
Terrence looked over at his retreating manager. "Wuss," he muttered under his breath, then lit the fuse, quickly backing away.
WHOOOOSH!!!!
The rocket took off, and Terrence smiled, knowing he was right- for about a quarter of a second. Then the rocket banked sharply to the right making a beeline for the house...
CRASH!!!!!!
Terrence's jaw dropped as the rocket crashed through the bay window overlooking the front lawn. He heard the tinkling of the shards of glass, and a terror filled feminine scream emanating from inside the house. He froze, standing and staring at the broken living room window. He was dimly aware that Dan Pollaski was walking up from behind, and clapping a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.
"When you said 'aesthetic purposes', did you mean to the rocket, or to the house?" Pollaski asked, then roared in laughter.
Some dark corner of Terrence's mind told him that he really should punch his manager, but the vast majority of him was too numb to do anything but stare at the broken window in slack-jawed disbelief.
Then the front door opened, and Terrence knew that the hour of his death was nigh.
Wendy Briese-Thompson's flame-red hair was a mess, loose strands flying about the dark green scrunchy that held what was left of her customary ponytail. Her clothes were similarly rumpled, giving the impression that the young woman had dove to the ground the moment the rocket burst through the window. She had gone completely white, and was trembling, although whether that was from fright or rage Terrence couldn't immediately tell. In her hands were a pair of tongs, clamped around the smoldering remains of the rocket, which were embedded with several shards of glass. Terrence grinned sheepishly as his wife approached him, her emerald eyes glaring into his as she thrust the rocket towards him.
"I believe you're missing something," Wendy said, the mild tone in her voice belying the fire that had crept into her emerald eyes.
Terrence gingerly grabbed the rocket, taking care to avoid the shards of glass sticking out from the shell. It was no longer smoldering, but it was still quite warm to the touch. "Want me to call the window repair company?" He asked.
"No," Wendy said with an aura of false-pleasantry. "I'll do that. You're going to be busy with OTHER things," she continued, beckoning to the garbage can lying on the side of the house. Her face suddenly turned hard, and she glared at her husband. "EVERYTHING, Terrence. Oh, by the way, we have the ring for training at two."
Terrence deflated as he caught her meaning, and realized that his plans for the greatest Fourth of July weekend ever had just come crashing down. Still, he supposed he couldn't blame his wife's anger- he did almost just burn down the house with a firework, after all.
Wendy silently wheeled around, and headed back into the house, no doubt to find and call a window repair company. Theresa, deciding that whatever mommy might be doing would be more interesting, ran after in pursuit, leaving a very dejected Terrence and Pollaski standing in the driveway.
"We could put them in the trunk of your car." Pollaski reasoned, but Terrence shook his head.
"Nah, she'll probably check the can tonight anyways. Now grab a broom, and start sweeping the shells," Terrence commanded, sulking over to the garbage can, and tossing the rocket inside. He then walked over to the eleven remaining bags of fireworks, and began dropping them into the can one by one.
"When did you become so pussy-whipped?" Pollaski grumbled as he began to sweep the driveway into a nice little pile.
"Sometimes, you've gotta sacrifice something for the sake of peace," Terrence said with a small smile. "I don't have to get my way all the time."
"Yeah, but FIREWORKS, man!"
Terrence shrugged. "Just the way it is sometimes."
Thursday July 1, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
8:32 PM Local Time
Twister- "A blog? Are you fucking kidding me? One of my opponents just cut a BLOG on me? Now I know I've seen everything."
[Alright, we are opening up in the WhirlyBirdz living room, with Terrence sitting in his recliner chair, but things are obviously different than normal. Namely, the window is gone. In its place is a blue tarp, which pretty much kills the view of the WhirlyBirdz scenic front lawn. Guess the window guys couldn't make the repair until tomorrow.]
[Despite the obvious disappointment over the Thompson family matriarch's sudden ban on fireworks, the Mechanical Mayhem seems to be in a good mood. After all, any argument he and his wife have had about pyrotechnics safety pales in comparison to the opportunity both have on Monday, when they get their first shot at the PWX Tag Team Championships.]
Twister- "Oh well, I suppose its for the better. If I had to listen to that bit of crap, I probably would have been forced to put an axe through one of my televisions. At least by reading it I didn't have to listen to John Pariah's voice, and John was even nice enough to put the really important parts in bold. It's those little things that make those Internet posts feel so special, you know. Although a bit of spell-check wouldn't have hurt. Adrenaine? Definantly? How the hell are you gonna beat Wendy and I when Mavis Beacon would kick your ass?"
[Terrence shrugs, although a slight shudder, probably from nightmares about eighth grade keyboarding class.]
Twister- "But you're throwing a lot of stones in that post, John. The problem is, you seem to be living in a glass house. You falsely claim that Wendy and I are better singles wrestlers who have slunk to the tag division because we weren't making any progress on our own. What the fuck are you and Norcia? You get your ass handed to you by John Ojeda, and suddenly, you're turning to every former enemy you have on speed-dial, begging them to put aside your differences so you can find some success. You got Tyler Graves to play along with you for a week, that didn't work out, so now you've brought in the so-called "Hand of God". So if this incarnation doesn't work out, is Danny Szatkowski next on the desperation partner depth chart? You could call yourselves The Brit and the Twit."
[Oh yeah, absolutely awful lame joke, but Terrence chuckles nonetheless.]
Twister- "It's obvious that you have no clue about the success Wendy and I garnered during our first run as a tag team, and I won't bore you with tales of glory against tag teams that you likely have never heard of. But I will say that there's a damn good reason my wife and I are in the WfWA Hall of Fame as a team, and not as singles. We've beaten the best the WfWA had to offer, and we will beat the best the PWX has to offer, whether its the Kings Among Men, the Belmonts, the Fallen, whoever the hell JPO decides to put in our way."
[Small shrug]
Twister- "And I'll be the first to admit that we haven't exactly faced the fiercest competition during our march through the PWX Tag Ranks. I'm fully aware that beating Punch and Pie is hardly any form of achievement. But there you go throwing your stones again, Johnny. Who exactly have you defended against, again? The Fallen? Yeah, we beat them too. And come to think of it, considering you were James Silkk's mentor, their lack of ability doesn't exactly speak positive things for you. And of course, your so-called 'epic' three-on-two beat-down of Cash Money and Mikal Grayson. After those two insane challenges, I'd be ready to declare my supremacy too."
[/sarcasm]
Twister- "Let's just lay it all out in the open. Each team is going to be the toughest test the other has had in their PWX tenure. So let's not get all into this crap about who beat who, because we've both faced fairly shitty opponents in the tag division. In reality, besides the Kings and the Birdz, there's really only one other credible tag team remaining in Pro-Wrestling X, and if I recall, the one time you took on the Belmont's, it didn't really end well for you."
[Ah, there's the infamous cocky grin from the Twister. Although he apparently does feel secure enough to leave out that he's 3-0 against said Belmonts in singles competition. Just sayin'.]
Twister- "But we can both name-drop and give history lessons until the cows come home and the fans fall asleep. Because that's all in the past. Let's talk about the future for a second, Pariah. The future of the PWX Tag Team Division resides in Indianapolis, not Crown Point. You boys may be bigger and stronger, but I can guarantee you that my wife and I are faster, more technically sound, and we will have greater chemistry in that ring than you could ever hope to achieve. It's one of the perks of being married to your tag partner."
[There's other perks, too. However, due to the risk of pissing off said wife/tag partner, Terrence won't be mentioning them on camera.]
Twister- "Now, as far as you go, Michael, you seem an interesting sort. When you came back to the PWX for your match at Full Throttle, you gave such an interesting story about how you had been away from the PWX for YEARS, and how those letters had NEVER crossed your mind until that fateful day when John Pariah rang you up with a proposal to bail his ass out in Razor Wire Warfare? It's a good tale, but it makes me wonder... if you had been away from the PWX for YEARS... who the hell was that at the very first Adrenaline following PWX's return last September?"
[Twister appears to be thinking for just a second. It's actually the same expression he carries when he's constipated.]
Twister- "Then again, if I lost to Jackson, I'd probably want to forget about showing up too."
[BURN!]
Twister- "Michael, you seem to me to be a victim of your own success. You're the King of the Death Match, which you insist on telling us every time you open your mouth. Now, don't get me wrong. I don't have a problem with "Extreme Rules" in wrestling, at least not to the extent that my wife does. Hell, whacking someone over the head with a chair is an efficient way to get a win, and the funny noise you get is somewhat of a bonus. Not to mention it's a GREAT way of relieving stress. But here's the question- how one-dimensional are you? Are you another John Ojeda, so quick to proclaim dominance in a death match, but then folds like a paper fan the moment all the toys are taken away?"
[Terrence shakes his head and snorts in derision.]
Twister- "This isn't King of the Death Match or Razor Wire Warfare. This is true tag team wrestling, and if you want to walk around proclaiming yourselves the dominant tag team in the WORLD, you better know how to win a straight up wrestling match. Other than your own ability, and your partners, there isn't a damn thing in this world that can save you from the Mechanical Mayhem and his wife."
[Could have saved by a firework mishap, but that already got the kibosh. Time to wrap it up.]
Twister- "Over and over again, all I hear is that the Kings reign supreme. Well, it's time to prove it. A wise man once said, to be the best, you've got to beat the best."
[Terrence spreads his arms wide, in a clear challenge and invitation.]
Twister- "Take your best shot, Your Highnesses"
[Fade]
EPISODE 22: Off-Target
Monday June 28, 2010
ARC Center
Valparaiso, Indiana
11:10 PM
"Wendy, for the love of God, will you slow down?"
Terrence Thompson speed-walked down the hallway, pursuing the redheaded woman as she stormed ahead of him. Adrenaline 37 had just gone off the air, but for the Thompson family, the night was not quite over. In truth, Terrence mused, it hadn't been their best night. They had won their match, sure, but by countout, and the aftermath had ended with that dumb bitch Lilith Morgan grabbing his wife by the hair, and then the King Among Men, the very tag team they were scheduled to face in just seven days, laying waste to his wife.
Obviously, the evening had put Terrence in a less than pleasant mood. But that was NOTHING compared to his wife. Terrence had helped her to the medical area to be looked at after taking Pariah's Broken Dreams, but the moment her grogginess had worn off, Wendy had hopped to her feet and stormed out of the room. Terrence had ran her down, and after arguing with her failed, had bodily lifted his wife in a fireman's carry and carried her back to the medical ward. Of course, his wife had struggled the whole way, but finally she had agreed to finish her post-match examination. But after being cleared, Wendy had stormed off again.
And that had brought them to this hallway. Terrence recognized it as the same hallway he and Wendy had confronted Jacob Wright in earlier, although the Golden Prince was obviously nowhere to be seen this time. It was just as well, the angry young woman storming ahead of him was probably going to be enough trouble.
Breaking into a run, Terrence finally caught up to his wife, although the hallway was too narrow to get by and impede her path. Thinking quickly, and hoping he wouldn't find himself lying on the concrete as a result, he reached out, and grabbed his wife's shoulder. "Will you hold the fuck on?"
Wendy threw his arm off, but she did wheel around, glaring at him. Terrence noted the red-glint in his wife's emerald eyes, and knew he had to choose his words carefully.
"I'm sorry," he finally said, for lack of anything better to say.
This remark clearly surprised Wendy, and she arched an eyebrow. "For what?"
Terrence found himself struggling for a response. "What happened," he finally said lamely.
"That wasn't your fault, Terrence. I know you were trying to get in and help me, but Norcia was blocking your path. There's nothing you could have done."
"So, you're not mad at me?" Terrence asked.
Wendy shook her head. "Why would I be mad at you? You weren't the one who grabbed my hair from behind, nor were you the one who rammed a knee into my face."
"Oh." Terrence said, shrugging.
But his wife was giving him an appraising look. "Is every apology you make strictly because its what you think I want to hear?"
Terrence was caught off guard by the question, but his wife interpreted his silence well enough. Rolling her eyes, Wendy spun on her heel, and resumed her forced march down the hallway. Behind her, Terrence swore under his breath. If she wasn't mad at him before, she was at least irritated with him now.
"Where are you going?" Terrence demanded, jogging to catch up.
"To find Zion," Wendy said hotly.
"Wait... Darin Zion?" Terrence was confused. "What do you want Zion for?"
"To inform him in no uncertain terms that he was better off staying barricaded in his locker room tonight," Wendy called back angrily.
"Wait... what?"
Wendy finally stopped, and turned around, right in front of the money-stealing vending machine. Terrence noticed that she was blinking back angry tears. "What's going on, hon?" he finally asked softly.
"I had him, Terrence," Wendy said, her voice full of emotion. "I had Brian Hollywood right where I wanted him, and Zion had to come out and wreck the match! That selfish, arrogant little jerk! Does he think he's the only one who wants to teach Brian a lesson?"
"We still won," Terrence tried consoling her, even though he himself had found the victory to be rather hollow. "You got a win over both Hollywood and Stern-"
"By countout!" Wendy snapped. "What does that even prove?"
Terrence grimaced, because he knew that in his wife's mind, the answer was 'nothing', and nothing he could ever say would persuade her otherwise. Still, he and Wendy had enough enemies in Pro Wrestling-X as it was. They didn't need to be picking extra fights. "Look, hon, I don't think Darin was trying to steal your thunder. He was just trying to get inside Brian's head-"
"Why?" Wendy demanded. "Because he's not good enough to beat Hollywood on his own? He's trying to REFORM the man, Terry, but all does is just end up acting exactly like him! A thoughtless, self-centered..."
"So, what? Storming into his locker room and screaming at him is going to solve that?" Terrence said mildly. "That's going to make YOU the better person?"
Some of the fight in his wife seemed to leave her, and Terrence knew that his question had found its mark. But Wendy still needed an outlet for her frustration, and she turned, and rammed her fist into the side of the vending machine. A loud "clang" echoed through the hallway from the impact, then Terrence heard the slight rustling as several bags of candy fell from their perch.
"You have GOT to show me how to do that," Terrence said in awe.
Wendy rolled her eyes, then leaned against the wall. "But you're right. Punching Darin in the face wouldn't have solved anything."
Terrence nodded absently, but then shot an incredulous glare at his wife. "You were going to PUNCH him?"
"I was thinking about it," Wendy confessed.
Terrence chuckled, then bent down and pulled a bag of Skittles and a Crunch bar from the vending machine. He tossed the Crunch bar to his wife, who caught it, looking scandalized.
"We didn't pay for those!" Wendy protested, staring disapprovingly at her husband.
"Really?" Terrence shot back. "Because if you ask me, you've paid for enough tonight,"
Wendy held her disapproving glare for a few more seconds, then finally sighed and opened up the Crunch Bar. Grinning at his victory, Terrence leaned against the wall next to her, and opened the pack of Skittles, popping a few into his mouth. "You know," he said between chews, "you have every right in the world to be angry. I'm pissed too with all the bullshit that went down tonight. But you've gotta focus that anger. Hitting Darin, or even screaming at him, would have solved nothing."
Wendy slowly nodded her agreement. "It was just so frustrating. I mean, I've been wanting to get back at Brian for almost a month and..."
"Well, Darin Zion's an idiot. But I think he meant well," Terrence chuckled. "You know, not everyone is as riveted to their convictions as you are."
"They should be," Wendy snorted. "But I suppose the less enemies we have around here, the better."
Terrence shrugged. "The important thing is, we need to focus on who our enemies REALLY are."
"The Kings Among Men," Wendy replied, chewing on the words as if they were dried pieces of day-old meat. In truth, she knew that had Pariah not hit his Broken Dreams on her, she would probably have been much more docile for the remainder of the evening. And Terrence was right- as frustrating as her match with Hollywood had ended, that wasn't the number one objective right now. "They're going to pay for tonight when we take those belts from around their waist."
"Attagirl," Terrence said smiling, squeezing his wife's shoulder and crumpling up the now-empty Skittles bag. "Now, lets get back to our locker room, and get out of here. We've got a trip to Kansas City to plan."
Tuesday June 29, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
6:10 PM Local Time
[Yup, it's the day after Adrenaline, and we're already back home. The Birdz, of course, spent the night in Valpo, then hit the road at about ten this morning, arriving in Indianapolis early this afternoon. So, after unloading the RV, and settling back in, Terrence and Wendy have a few days to rest, regroup, and retrain, before its off to Kansas City, the legendary Kemper Arena, and Do or Die III!]
[As usual when the Birdz are at their home, we open in the Nest's Living room. Terrence, Dan, and Theresa have gone out to purchase fireworks for the upcoming Independence Day weekend, leaving Wendy home alone. So what's a girl to do all by herself? Cut a promo on her upcoming opponents, of course! So Wendy sits on the couch, sitting upright in her usual position. She's dressed in a pale blue sundress, which contrasts brilliantly with her red hair, which is tied back into its customary ponytail. Her emerald eyes are hard, and the expression on her face could be considered stony at best. Needless to say, after the weekend's events, Wendy Briese is definitely not a happy little camper.]
Wendy- "Well, aren't you boys proud of yourselves?"
[Yup, she's pissed]
Wendy- "John Pariah, you seem to like to throw the word 'epic' around. So was that 'epic' for you? Getting your ex-girlfriend to attack me from behind and then knock me unconscious with a Broken Dreams? When the 'Best of John Pariah' DVD is released, will that moment be on it, right after your equally 'epic' title defense against Cash Money and Mikal Grayson Willis?
[Wendy snorts]
Wendy- "John, do you even know what the word 'epic' means? According to the Merriam-Webster's dictionary, it means 'extending beyond the ordinary especially in size or scope'. Let me make this perfectly clear. I see NOTHING about either you or Michael Norcia that would make that adjective applicable. Your title defense at Adrenaline 36 wasn't beyond the ordinary, it was pathetic. I didn't see the best tag team in our company defending their titles with honor and fervor. Instead I saw you use a PROXY to defend your titles. I saw one-half of our so-called champions stumbling to ringside so drunk he could barely stand upright. And then, after the match was over, I saw two men, who were too lazy to even lift a finger to defend their own titles, carrying on after the bell, torturing two obviously helpless, inferior opponents, for no other reason than it looked like fun."
[Wendy shakes her head in disdain]
Wendy- "If you were using that match to send a message to Terrence and I, then you succeeded. But I'll wager that the message I received wasn't the one you intended to send. I'm not struck speechless in awe of your tremendous physical ability. I'm merely disgusted that you two are currently the face of tag team wrestling in the PWX."
[Wendy sighs, her gaze softening just a little.]
Wendy- "Now, I won't deny your talents. And from all accounts, your recent matches in Japan were tremendous, and I congratulate you both for surviving those defenses. But I find it a shame that neither of you can approach matches inside your own fed, on your own television show, with the same amount of effort and dedication. I know that Grayson and Cash Money were hardly a logical choice to face you for the tag team titles. But it doesn't matter. A true champion defends their spot with everything they have, regardless of how talented their opponent is. Did you see Terrence and I use a proxy against Punch and Pie? Did you see us torturing them in a post-match beatdown? No, because we don't need to do that."
[And in that case, a post-match beatdown may have had some merit, considering El Torte tortured EVERYBODY with his shitty little ballerina dance.]
Wendy- "We knew we were facing vastly inferior opponents, and we went out, and we made a quick surgical strike to get the victory, and our shot at the tag team champions. Is Punch & Pie the type of victory to build your career on? Of course not. But it's who we were given in the number one contender's match, and Terrence and I played the cards we were dealt. But it all works out in the end, because we got what we wanted. A shot against you."
[Here, Wendy actually cracks a small smile.]
Wendy- "Now, Michael and John, you have proven yourself capable in gimmick matches. John, you won those belts as a member of Chicago's Finest in an extreme rules match. You both defended them in Razor Wire Warfare, and Michael, you seem to be off to a good start in the King of the Death Match. But now it's time to see if you can actually WRESTLE. There won't be razor-wire, or barbed wire, or chairs, or tables, or anything else. All that will be in the ring will be the four of us, and a referee. No frills, no gimmicks, and you win by pinfall or submission only. Given the PWX mentality, it seems a truly remarkable concept, does it not?"
[Wendy emits a half-laugh at her attempt at a joke, although it really sounds more of a scoff.]
Wendy- "Honestly, I don't think either of you quite grasp what you are in for at Do Or Die. Terrence and I haven't had much opportunity to tag together since we returned to wrestling, and right now, I think that's actually to our advantage. Everyone knows that Terrence is as hard-hitting and technically sound as anyone in this sport. And while I may have a significant size disadvantage, my speed, my knowledge, and my ability more than make up for my relative lack of power. Those are well known facts. But as good as Terrence and I are individually, as a team we are far greater than the sum of our parts. Terrence and I share a bond that no normal tag team partners could possibly understand. We haven't just tied our careers to each other, we've tied our lives."
[For the first time since she started talking, Wendy actually looks happy.]
Wendy- "I find it fitting that Do Or Die takes place the day after Independence Day. Two hundred thirty-four years ago, men from this country decided that they would no longer bow to a king that failed to hold their interests at heart. And at Do Or Die, the PWX will no longer bow to two kings that have dragged the honor of the tag division through the mud with their disgraceful antics. We are six days away from a revolution of our own. One that will restore the tag division to the glory it once held, when wrestling ability decided matches, not the ability to swing a chair and shove another man into pieces of sharp metal. Thankfully, this revolution will last less than an hour, but when it ends, and John Pariah and Michael Norcia have been pushed from their thrones into the dust, the wrestling world as we know it will have changed."
[Pause]
Wendy- "For the better."
[And fade to black.]
ARC Center
Valparaiso, Indiana
11:10 PM
"Wendy, for the love of God, will you slow down?"
Terrence Thompson speed-walked down the hallway, pursuing the redheaded woman as she stormed ahead of him. Adrenaline 37 had just gone off the air, but for the Thompson family, the night was not quite over. In truth, Terrence mused, it hadn't been their best night. They had won their match, sure, but by countout, and the aftermath had ended with that dumb bitch Lilith Morgan grabbing his wife by the hair, and then the King Among Men, the very tag team they were scheduled to face in just seven days, laying waste to his wife.
Obviously, the evening had put Terrence in a less than pleasant mood. But that was NOTHING compared to his wife. Terrence had helped her to the medical area to be looked at after taking Pariah's Broken Dreams, but the moment her grogginess had worn off, Wendy had hopped to her feet and stormed out of the room. Terrence had ran her down, and after arguing with her failed, had bodily lifted his wife in a fireman's carry and carried her back to the medical ward. Of course, his wife had struggled the whole way, but finally she had agreed to finish her post-match examination. But after being cleared, Wendy had stormed off again.
And that had brought them to this hallway. Terrence recognized it as the same hallway he and Wendy had confronted Jacob Wright in earlier, although the Golden Prince was obviously nowhere to be seen this time. It was just as well, the angry young woman storming ahead of him was probably going to be enough trouble.
Breaking into a run, Terrence finally caught up to his wife, although the hallway was too narrow to get by and impede her path. Thinking quickly, and hoping he wouldn't find himself lying on the concrete as a result, he reached out, and grabbed his wife's shoulder. "Will you hold the fuck on?"
Wendy threw his arm off, but she did wheel around, glaring at him. Terrence noted the red-glint in his wife's emerald eyes, and knew he had to choose his words carefully.
"I'm sorry," he finally said, for lack of anything better to say.
This remark clearly surprised Wendy, and she arched an eyebrow. "For what?"
Terrence found himself struggling for a response. "What happened," he finally said lamely.
"That wasn't your fault, Terrence. I know you were trying to get in and help me, but Norcia was blocking your path. There's nothing you could have done."
"So, you're not mad at me?" Terrence asked.
Wendy shook her head. "Why would I be mad at you? You weren't the one who grabbed my hair from behind, nor were you the one who rammed a knee into my face."
"Oh." Terrence said, shrugging.
But his wife was giving him an appraising look. "Is every apology you make strictly because its what you think I want to hear?"
Terrence was caught off guard by the question, but his wife interpreted his silence well enough. Rolling her eyes, Wendy spun on her heel, and resumed her forced march down the hallway. Behind her, Terrence swore under his breath. If she wasn't mad at him before, she was at least irritated with him now.
"Where are you going?" Terrence demanded, jogging to catch up.
"To find Zion," Wendy said hotly.
"Wait... Darin Zion?" Terrence was confused. "What do you want Zion for?"
"To inform him in no uncertain terms that he was better off staying barricaded in his locker room tonight," Wendy called back angrily.
"Wait... what?"
Wendy finally stopped, and turned around, right in front of the money-stealing vending machine. Terrence noticed that she was blinking back angry tears. "What's going on, hon?" he finally asked softly.
"I had him, Terrence," Wendy said, her voice full of emotion. "I had Brian Hollywood right where I wanted him, and Zion had to come out and wreck the match! That selfish, arrogant little jerk! Does he think he's the only one who wants to teach Brian a lesson?"
"We still won," Terrence tried consoling her, even though he himself had found the victory to be rather hollow. "You got a win over both Hollywood and Stern-"
"By countout!" Wendy snapped. "What does that even prove?"
Terrence grimaced, because he knew that in his wife's mind, the answer was 'nothing', and nothing he could ever say would persuade her otherwise. Still, he and Wendy had enough enemies in Pro Wrestling-X as it was. They didn't need to be picking extra fights. "Look, hon, I don't think Darin was trying to steal your thunder. He was just trying to get inside Brian's head-"
"Why?" Wendy demanded. "Because he's not good enough to beat Hollywood on his own? He's trying to REFORM the man, Terry, but all does is just end up acting exactly like him! A thoughtless, self-centered..."
"So, what? Storming into his locker room and screaming at him is going to solve that?" Terrence said mildly. "That's going to make YOU the better person?"
Some of the fight in his wife seemed to leave her, and Terrence knew that his question had found its mark. But Wendy still needed an outlet for her frustration, and she turned, and rammed her fist into the side of the vending machine. A loud "clang" echoed through the hallway from the impact, then Terrence heard the slight rustling as several bags of candy fell from their perch.
"You have GOT to show me how to do that," Terrence said in awe.
Wendy rolled her eyes, then leaned against the wall. "But you're right. Punching Darin in the face wouldn't have solved anything."
Terrence nodded absently, but then shot an incredulous glare at his wife. "You were going to PUNCH him?"
"I was thinking about it," Wendy confessed.
Terrence chuckled, then bent down and pulled a bag of Skittles and a Crunch bar from the vending machine. He tossed the Crunch bar to his wife, who caught it, looking scandalized.
"We didn't pay for those!" Wendy protested, staring disapprovingly at her husband.
"Really?" Terrence shot back. "Because if you ask me, you've paid for enough tonight,"
Wendy held her disapproving glare for a few more seconds, then finally sighed and opened up the Crunch Bar. Grinning at his victory, Terrence leaned against the wall next to her, and opened the pack of Skittles, popping a few into his mouth. "You know," he said between chews, "you have every right in the world to be angry. I'm pissed too with all the bullshit that went down tonight. But you've gotta focus that anger. Hitting Darin, or even screaming at him, would have solved nothing."
Wendy slowly nodded her agreement. "It was just so frustrating. I mean, I've been wanting to get back at Brian for almost a month and..."
"Well, Darin Zion's an idiot. But I think he meant well," Terrence chuckled. "You know, not everyone is as riveted to their convictions as you are."
"They should be," Wendy snorted. "But I suppose the less enemies we have around here, the better."
Terrence shrugged. "The important thing is, we need to focus on who our enemies REALLY are."
"The Kings Among Men," Wendy replied, chewing on the words as if they were dried pieces of day-old meat. In truth, she knew that had Pariah not hit his Broken Dreams on her, she would probably have been much more docile for the remainder of the evening. And Terrence was right- as frustrating as her match with Hollywood had ended, that wasn't the number one objective right now. "They're going to pay for tonight when we take those belts from around their waist."
"Attagirl," Terrence said smiling, squeezing his wife's shoulder and crumpling up the now-empty Skittles bag. "Now, lets get back to our locker room, and get out of here. We've got a trip to Kansas City to plan."
Tuesday June 29, 2010
The Nest- Living Room
Indianapolis, Indiana
6:10 PM Local Time
[Yup, it's the day after Adrenaline, and we're already back home. The Birdz, of course, spent the night in Valpo, then hit the road at about ten this morning, arriving in Indianapolis early this afternoon. So, after unloading the RV, and settling back in, Terrence and Wendy have a few days to rest, regroup, and retrain, before its off to Kansas City, the legendary Kemper Arena, and Do or Die III!]
[As usual when the Birdz are at their home, we open in the Nest's Living room. Terrence, Dan, and Theresa have gone out to purchase fireworks for the upcoming Independence Day weekend, leaving Wendy home alone. So what's a girl to do all by herself? Cut a promo on her upcoming opponents, of course! So Wendy sits on the couch, sitting upright in her usual position. She's dressed in a pale blue sundress, which contrasts brilliantly with her red hair, which is tied back into its customary ponytail. Her emerald eyes are hard, and the expression on her face could be considered stony at best. Needless to say, after the weekend's events, Wendy Briese is definitely not a happy little camper.]
Wendy- "Well, aren't you boys proud of yourselves?"
[Yup, she's pissed]
Wendy- "John Pariah, you seem to like to throw the word 'epic' around. So was that 'epic' for you? Getting your ex-girlfriend to attack me from behind and then knock me unconscious with a Broken Dreams? When the 'Best of John Pariah' DVD is released, will that moment be on it, right after your equally 'epic' title defense against Cash Money and Mikal Grayson Willis?
[Wendy snorts]
Wendy- "John, do you even know what the word 'epic' means? According to the Merriam-Webster's dictionary, it means 'extending beyond the ordinary especially in size or scope'. Let me make this perfectly clear. I see NOTHING about either you or Michael Norcia that would make that adjective applicable. Your title defense at Adrenaline 36 wasn't beyond the ordinary, it was pathetic. I didn't see the best tag team in our company defending their titles with honor and fervor. Instead I saw you use a PROXY to defend your titles. I saw one-half of our so-called champions stumbling to ringside so drunk he could barely stand upright. And then, after the match was over, I saw two men, who were too lazy to even lift a finger to defend their own titles, carrying on after the bell, torturing two obviously helpless, inferior opponents, for no other reason than it looked like fun."
[Wendy shakes her head in disdain]
Wendy- "If you were using that match to send a message to Terrence and I, then you succeeded. But I'll wager that the message I received wasn't the one you intended to send. I'm not struck speechless in awe of your tremendous physical ability. I'm merely disgusted that you two are currently the face of tag team wrestling in the PWX."
[Wendy sighs, her gaze softening just a little.]
Wendy- "Now, I won't deny your talents. And from all accounts, your recent matches in Japan were tremendous, and I congratulate you both for surviving those defenses. But I find it a shame that neither of you can approach matches inside your own fed, on your own television show, with the same amount of effort and dedication. I know that Grayson and Cash Money were hardly a logical choice to face you for the tag team titles. But it doesn't matter. A true champion defends their spot with everything they have, regardless of how talented their opponent is. Did you see Terrence and I use a proxy against Punch and Pie? Did you see us torturing them in a post-match beatdown? No, because we don't need to do that."
[And in that case, a post-match beatdown may have had some merit, considering El Torte tortured EVERYBODY with his shitty little ballerina dance.]
Wendy- "We knew we were facing vastly inferior opponents, and we went out, and we made a quick surgical strike to get the victory, and our shot at the tag team champions. Is Punch & Pie the type of victory to build your career on? Of course not. But it's who we were given in the number one contender's match, and Terrence and I played the cards we were dealt. But it all works out in the end, because we got what we wanted. A shot against you."
[Here, Wendy actually cracks a small smile.]
Wendy- "Now, Michael and John, you have proven yourself capable in gimmick matches. John, you won those belts as a member of Chicago's Finest in an extreme rules match. You both defended them in Razor Wire Warfare, and Michael, you seem to be off to a good start in the King of the Death Match. But now it's time to see if you can actually WRESTLE. There won't be razor-wire, or barbed wire, or chairs, or tables, or anything else. All that will be in the ring will be the four of us, and a referee. No frills, no gimmicks, and you win by pinfall or submission only. Given the PWX mentality, it seems a truly remarkable concept, does it not?"
[Wendy emits a half-laugh at her attempt at a joke, although it really sounds more of a scoff.]
Wendy- "Honestly, I don't think either of you quite grasp what you are in for at Do Or Die. Terrence and I haven't had much opportunity to tag together since we returned to wrestling, and right now, I think that's actually to our advantage. Everyone knows that Terrence is as hard-hitting and technically sound as anyone in this sport. And while I may have a significant size disadvantage, my speed, my knowledge, and my ability more than make up for my relative lack of power. Those are well known facts. But as good as Terrence and I are individually, as a team we are far greater than the sum of our parts. Terrence and I share a bond that no normal tag team partners could possibly understand. We haven't just tied our careers to each other, we've tied our lives."
[For the first time since she started talking, Wendy actually looks happy.]
Wendy- "I find it fitting that Do Or Die takes place the day after Independence Day. Two hundred thirty-four years ago, men from this country decided that they would no longer bow to a king that failed to hold their interests at heart. And at Do Or Die, the PWX will no longer bow to two kings that have dragged the honor of the tag division through the mud with their disgraceful antics. We are six days away from a revolution of our own. One that will restore the tag division to the glory it once held, when wrestling ability decided matches, not the ability to swing a chair and shove another man into pieces of sharp metal. Thankfully, this revolution will last less than an hour, but when it ends, and John Pariah and Michael Norcia have been pushed from their thrones into the dust, the wrestling world as we know it will have changed."
[Pause]
Wendy- "For the better."
[And fade to black.]
EPISODE 21: Ghana-Ria
JUNE 26, 2010
THE NEST- LIVING ROOM
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
2:48 PM LOCAL TIME
"Are you okay hon?" Wendy asked in concern, looking at her husband.
Terrence Thompson nodded, although the disdainful expression on his face suggested otherwise. In fact, Terrence was staring at the 48" plasma television that hung on the wall in the Thompson family living room in an expression that normally the Mechanical Mayhem reserved for compact hybrid cars. The disdain could be explained by the World Cup soccer match currently being played out on the screen before him, as white-clad Americans and red-clad Ghanians kicked a ball around back and forth.
"Why is this... THING on my television?" Terrence finally demanded, looking over at his wife with an expression of disgust. Obviously, Wendy, like dozens of other Americans across the country, had caught World Cup fever, and she had decided to devote her Saturday afternoon to watching the latest American match. Even worse, his daughter was being subjected to this dreck as well, as Theresa had nestled into his wife's side, drinking a Capri Sun while she too was absorbed by the image of twenty-two sissies kicking a ball around.
"Terrence," Wendy said irritably, ignoring her husband's exasperated question, "Either sit down or move. You're blocking the game."
Terrence glared at his wife. That was HIS line, delivered in the exact same tone during Colts games on Sunday's in autumn. He did NOT like that being turned around on him.
"Yeah, dude," a male voice piped up from the recliner at the other end of the room. "Sit down and stay a while. It's actually a good match."
"Eh tu, Brute?" Terrence muttered as he regarded his manager, but he retreated to the sofa, and sat down on the other end of the couch. Theresa left her mothers side and scooted next to him, and he tousled her hair fondly. "So," he asked blandly. "Who's winning?"
"Ghana," Pollaski said. "One-nothin'"
Terrence snorted. Obviously if some crappy third-world country was beating them, it wasn't an important sport. Lets see how these red-clad bitches would do against Peyton Manning and company! Hell, even the Detroit Lions would kick their ass. But, considering he was outnumbered, he resigned himself to sitting silently on the couch, eyeing the XBox 360 sitting below the television with envy, and wondering if there was anyway he could convince Pollaski to change his mind, and engage him in a rousing battle of Split/Second.
"Foul!" Wendy protested at the television angrily, and Terrence looked up, seeing a white clad man lying in agony on the ground.
"That should be a penalty..." Pollaski replied, shaking his head in disgust at the television. "Yup, there it is."
Terrence looked down, and noticed that his daughter had finished her Capri Sun, so he took the empty pouch from her, and set it on the end table. He again tousled Theresa's hair, and looked back at the televison, where another white-clad man was preparing to make a penalty kick.
"We should tie it up here," Pollaski said happily, leaning forward in anticipation.
The man kicked the ball, banking it into the goal off the post with a shot that even Terrence had to admit was impressive. Both Pollaski and Wendy cheered the tying score, but that was NOTHING compared to his daughter.
"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"
The little girl's high-pitched shriek inspired Chaunticleer, the Thompson family cat that had been taking a nap on the living room windowsil, to bolt awake and run out of the room with a yell. Terrence envied the feline, for as his daughter was sitting right next to him, he took the brunt of the scream right in his eardrums. Even Wendy, sitting a couple feet away on the other end of the couch, was forced to cover her ears.
The scream ended, and silence reigned over the living room. Although Terrence couldn't quite be certain, as the only sound he could hear was the ringing in his ears.
"Don't do that, Terr-Bear!" Wendy admonished, as she continued to wince in pain from the shriek.
"Danoo Powaski tawt me dat duwing the Ajeewa game!" Theresa declared triumphantly, horribly mispronouncing Algeria.
"I just bet he did," Wendy said, shooting her manager a look that left absolutely no doubt who was going to be her sparring partner during her next submission practice session.
For his part, Pollaski grinned meekly back at both irritated WhirlyBirdz. "Tattletale," he muttered through his clenched teeth.
"Right," Terrence said, feeling his hatred of this stupid game rising even more. "No screaming in the house, Theresa. Okay?"
"Okay!" Theresa said happily, then turned her attention back to the television, where play was starting to resume.
"Well, now that we're tied, we might just have a chance," Wendy said happily.
"A lot of time left though," Pollaski cautioned. "And Gahna's had some pretty good chances.
Terrence stared at the television and sighed. He was bored, but with his daughter now sitting on his lap he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Oh, well, when in Rome...
And he settled back, content for the time being, not in watching the game, but just being around the presence of his family and friends.
JUNE 27, 2010
INTERSTATE 65- THE RV
NEAR LAFAYETTE, INDIANA
8:42 PM LOCAL TIME
Twister- "Well, THAT was easy!"
[Obviously, Terrence wasn't talking about the United State's epic win over Ghana, because that didn't happen, much to Wendy and Pollaski's dismay. Terrence took the American's elimination from the World Cup in a much better mood, probably because it now means he won't have to hear about soccer for another four years. But back to the subject at hand. Terrence would be talking about his and Wendy's tag match at Adrenaline 36, their quick dismembering of Punch and Pie, and their earned tag title shot at the pay per view. Last week was a pretty good week for the WhirlyBirdz.]
[The scene is the WhirlyBirdz RV, which is making the beautiful twilight drive through the Indiana countryside en route to Valparaiso. Terrence sits alone up in the cockpit, driving, and talking into the dashboard mounted camera. In the background, the rest of the gang is held up, watching what appears to be Leap Year on the television. This pretty much gives the Twister some time to be alone, to think, and of course, to cut a wicked promo.]
[Or at least do the best he can]
Twister- "I suppose I shouldn't have expected any different, considering we got put in a match against two of the most worthless tag teams in history. But that's beside the point. The point is, the Thompson family is going to Kansas City, and we're gonna get ourselves some tag team gold. But first, back to Valparaiso one more time, for Adrenaline 37, and a tag match with Brian Hollywood and Darin Zion."
[Terrence rolls his eyes and scoffs.]
Twister- "Yeah, this is gonna be fun."
[Moreso than a barrel of sword-fighting monkeys]
Twister- "Look, I'm not exactly a forgiving guy, and I can hold a grudge as good as any other professional wrestler out there, but give me a break. We get it. You boys used to be friends, now you're not, and apparently that cute little light-saber sword fight you boys put on a couple month's ago didn't settle things. So on to Round 2 we go, the Bowery Death Match. I can tell you that I'll be riveted to my seat."
[There may be a faint hint of sarcasm in Terrence's words here.]
Twister- "Do either of you know what the Bowery is? It's a neighborhood in the southern part of New York, near Little Italy. It's a place that, unless I'm mistaken, neither of you have any ties to, so why the fuck are you doing this match? Because some goth freak in a now-bankrupt fed did it ten years ago? What's next, the triple-decker cage match? You might as well have called it the 'Wichita Trailer Park House of Fun Death Match', for all anyone cares. Either that, or we can all just watch more Parry Gripp videos, because God knows watching some idiot singing the same lyric over and over again HAS to be more entertaining than seeing you two climb into a cage and whack each other over the head with God knows what."
[Terrence chuckles helplessly, and shakes his head.]
Twister- "Well, maybe Wendy and I can manage to injure one or both of you during the course of tomorrow's match. Then your match gets cancelled, OUR match gets moved up to co-main event status, and the Birdz and Jeremiah send the fans at Kemper Arena home happy."
[Provided Jeremiah beats Jacob Wright, of course.]
Twister- "So is tomorrow's match even going to happen? Can you two children honestly co-exist long enough to face us, or are you just going to let yourselves be sitting ducks for the future PWX Tag Team Champions? Honestly, I don't care either way, because even if you two did try to get along, there's no way in hell that you're overcoming me and my wife."
"Darin Zion, I don't give a flying shit what's going on in your personal life, its obvious that you don't think enough of me and my wife to cut a proper promo for our match, and I just find that insulting. If your mind is elsewhere, you better ask for the week off, because the moment you step in that ring, my wife and I are going to BREAK you. Wendy and I have had our share of trials through our careers, but we're professional enough to focus long enough to do our jobs, and if you can't do that, get the fuck out of this business. As far as you go, Brian..."
[A slight pause, and Terrence shakes his head, laughing all the while]
Twister- "I'm actually not entirely sure what I'm going to do with you. On one hand, you've made the fatal mistake of pissing my wife off, and it's going to be entertaining to watch her dislocate every joint in your body with her submissions. But on the other hand, I'm not exactly happy with you either, and it would just be selfish of my wife to have all the fun. So I'm sure Wendy and I are going to have a small argument over who gets to do what, but rest-assured, by the time tomorrow's over, yoiu're going to realize that the chair-shot you pulled on my wife was the absolute dumbest thing you ever did."
[Small shrug]
Twister- "I suppose in the end it really makes no difference. Show up or don't. Play nice together or don't. Because Wendy and I are going to stand in that ring, and anyone who comes walking down is going to get their ass kicked. And then it's on to Kemper Arena...
[Terrence breaks into a huge grin.]
Twister- "And that's going to be where the REAL fun begins."
[Fade]
THE NEST- LIVING ROOM
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
2:48 PM LOCAL TIME
"Are you okay hon?" Wendy asked in concern, looking at her husband.
Terrence Thompson nodded, although the disdainful expression on his face suggested otherwise. In fact, Terrence was staring at the 48" plasma television that hung on the wall in the Thompson family living room in an expression that normally the Mechanical Mayhem reserved for compact hybrid cars. The disdain could be explained by the World Cup soccer match currently being played out on the screen before him, as white-clad Americans and red-clad Ghanians kicked a ball around back and forth.
"Why is this... THING on my television?" Terrence finally demanded, looking over at his wife with an expression of disgust. Obviously, Wendy, like dozens of other Americans across the country, had caught World Cup fever, and she had decided to devote her Saturday afternoon to watching the latest American match. Even worse, his daughter was being subjected to this dreck as well, as Theresa had nestled into his wife's side, drinking a Capri Sun while she too was absorbed by the image of twenty-two sissies kicking a ball around.
"Terrence," Wendy said irritably, ignoring her husband's exasperated question, "Either sit down or move. You're blocking the game."
Terrence glared at his wife. That was HIS line, delivered in the exact same tone during Colts games on Sunday's in autumn. He did NOT like that being turned around on him.
"Yeah, dude," a male voice piped up from the recliner at the other end of the room. "Sit down and stay a while. It's actually a good match."
"Eh tu, Brute?" Terrence muttered as he regarded his manager, but he retreated to the sofa, and sat down on the other end of the couch. Theresa left her mothers side and scooted next to him, and he tousled her hair fondly. "So," he asked blandly. "Who's winning?"
"Ghana," Pollaski said. "One-nothin'"
Terrence snorted. Obviously if some crappy third-world country was beating them, it wasn't an important sport. Lets see how these red-clad bitches would do against Peyton Manning and company! Hell, even the Detroit Lions would kick their ass. But, considering he was outnumbered, he resigned himself to sitting silently on the couch, eyeing the XBox 360 sitting below the television with envy, and wondering if there was anyway he could convince Pollaski to change his mind, and engage him in a rousing battle of Split/Second.
"Foul!" Wendy protested at the television angrily, and Terrence looked up, seeing a white clad man lying in agony on the ground.
"That should be a penalty..." Pollaski replied, shaking his head in disgust at the television. "Yup, there it is."
Terrence looked down, and noticed that his daughter had finished her Capri Sun, so he took the empty pouch from her, and set it on the end table. He again tousled Theresa's hair, and looked back at the televison, where another white-clad man was preparing to make a penalty kick.
"We should tie it up here," Pollaski said happily, leaning forward in anticipation.
The man kicked the ball, banking it into the goal off the post with a shot that even Terrence had to admit was impressive. Both Pollaski and Wendy cheered the tying score, but that was NOTHING compared to his daughter.
"GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"
The little girl's high-pitched shriek inspired Chaunticleer, the Thompson family cat that had been taking a nap on the living room windowsil, to bolt awake and run out of the room with a yell. Terrence envied the feline, for as his daughter was sitting right next to him, he took the brunt of the scream right in his eardrums. Even Wendy, sitting a couple feet away on the other end of the couch, was forced to cover her ears.
The scream ended, and silence reigned over the living room. Although Terrence couldn't quite be certain, as the only sound he could hear was the ringing in his ears.
"Don't do that, Terr-Bear!" Wendy admonished, as she continued to wince in pain from the shriek.
"Danoo Powaski tawt me dat duwing the Ajeewa game!" Theresa declared triumphantly, horribly mispronouncing Algeria.
"I just bet he did," Wendy said, shooting her manager a look that left absolutely no doubt who was going to be her sparring partner during her next submission practice session.
For his part, Pollaski grinned meekly back at both irritated WhirlyBirdz. "Tattletale," he muttered through his clenched teeth.
"Right," Terrence said, feeling his hatred of this stupid game rising even more. "No screaming in the house, Theresa. Okay?"
"Okay!" Theresa said happily, then turned her attention back to the television, where play was starting to resume.
"Well, now that we're tied, we might just have a chance," Wendy said happily.
"A lot of time left though," Pollaski cautioned. "And Gahna's had some pretty good chances.
Terrence stared at the television and sighed. He was bored, but with his daughter now sitting on his lap he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Oh, well, when in Rome...
And he settled back, content for the time being, not in watching the game, but just being around the presence of his family and friends.
JUNE 27, 2010
INTERSTATE 65- THE RV
NEAR LAFAYETTE, INDIANA
8:42 PM LOCAL TIME
Twister- "Well, THAT was easy!"
[Obviously, Terrence wasn't talking about the United State's epic win over Ghana, because that didn't happen, much to Wendy and Pollaski's dismay. Terrence took the American's elimination from the World Cup in a much better mood, probably because it now means he won't have to hear about soccer for another four years. But back to the subject at hand. Terrence would be talking about his and Wendy's tag match at Adrenaline 36, their quick dismembering of Punch and Pie, and their earned tag title shot at the pay per view. Last week was a pretty good week for the WhirlyBirdz.]
[The scene is the WhirlyBirdz RV, which is making the beautiful twilight drive through the Indiana countryside en route to Valparaiso. Terrence sits alone up in the cockpit, driving, and talking into the dashboard mounted camera. In the background, the rest of the gang is held up, watching what appears to be Leap Year on the television. This pretty much gives the Twister some time to be alone, to think, and of course, to cut a wicked promo.]
[Or at least do the best he can]
Twister- "I suppose I shouldn't have expected any different, considering we got put in a match against two of the most worthless tag teams in history. But that's beside the point. The point is, the Thompson family is going to Kansas City, and we're gonna get ourselves some tag team gold. But first, back to Valparaiso one more time, for Adrenaline 37, and a tag match with Brian Hollywood and Darin Zion."
[Terrence rolls his eyes and scoffs.]
Twister- "Yeah, this is gonna be fun."
[Moreso than a barrel of sword-fighting monkeys]
Twister- "Look, I'm not exactly a forgiving guy, and I can hold a grudge as good as any other professional wrestler out there, but give me a break. We get it. You boys used to be friends, now you're not, and apparently that cute little light-saber sword fight you boys put on a couple month's ago didn't settle things. So on to Round 2 we go, the Bowery Death Match. I can tell you that I'll be riveted to my seat."
[There may be a faint hint of sarcasm in Terrence's words here.]
Twister- "Do either of you know what the Bowery is? It's a neighborhood in the southern part of New York, near Little Italy. It's a place that, unless I'm mistaken, neither of you have any ties to, so why the fuck are you doing this match? Because some goth freak in a now-bankrupt fed did it ten years ago? What's next, the triple-decker cage match? You might as well have called it the 'Wichita Trailer Park House of Fun Death Match', for all anyone cares. Either that, or we can all just watch more Parry Gripp videos, because God knows watching some idiot singing the same lyric over and over again HAS to be more entertaining than seeing you two climb into a cage and whack each other over the head with God knows what."
[Terrence chuckles helplessly, and shakes his head.]
Twister- "Well, maybe Wendy and I can manage to injure one or both of you during the course of tomorrow's match. Then your match gets cancelled, OUR match gets moved up to co-main event status, and the Birdz and Jeremiah send the fans at Kemper Arena home happy."
[Provided Jeremiah beats Jacob Wright, of course.]
Twister- "So is tomorrow's match even going to happen? Can you two children honestly co-exist long enough to face us, or are you just going to let yourselves be sitting ducks for the future PWX Tag Team Champions? Honestly, I don't care either way, because even if you two did try to get along, there's no way in hell that you're overcoming me and my wife."
"Darin Zion, I don't give a flying shit what's going on in your personal life, its obvious that you don't think enough of me and my wife to cut a proper promo for our match, and I just find that insulting. If your mind is elsewhere, you better ask for the week off, because the moment you step in that ring, my wife and I are going to BREAK you. Wendy and I have had our share of trials through our careers, but we're professional enough to focus long enough to do our jobs, and if you can't do that, get the fuck out of this business. As far as you go, Brian..."
[A slight pause, and Terrence shakes his head, laughing all the while]
Twister- "I'm actually not entirely sure what I'm going to do with you. On one hand, you've made the fatal mistake of pissing my wife off, and it's going to be entertaining to watch her dislocate every joint in your body with her submissions. But on the other hand, I'm not exactly happy with you either, and it would just be selfish of my wife to have all the fun. So I'm sure Wendy and I are going to have a small argument over who gets to do what, but rest-assured, by the time tomorrow's over, yoiu're going to realize that the chair-shot you pulled on my wife was the absolute dumbest thing you ever did."
[Small shrug]
Twister- "I suppose in the end it really makes no difference. Show up or don't. Play nice together or don't. Because Wendy and I are going to stand in that ring, and anyone who comes walking down is going to get their ass kicked. And then it's on to Kemper Arena...
[Terrence breaks into a huge grin.]
Twister- "And that's going to be where the REAL fun begins."
[Fade]
EPISODE 20: Moral Crusade
JUNE 21, 2010
ARC CENTER
VALPARAISO, INDIANA
9:34 PM LOCAL TIME
Wendy Briese-Thompson poked her head through the curtain and looked out over the arena. To her dismay, if not her surprise, she noticed how many of the fans in attendance looked lethargic, almost bored, over the match getting underway in the ring. She supposed she couldn't really blame them- Brothers of the Will vs. Punch and Pie was hardly the reason any of them bought their ticket tonight. But considering that she and her husband were about to take on the winner for a shot at the tag titles at Do Or Die, she figured she at least better watch. After all, despite the obvious lack of acclaim concerning her potential opponents, it would be absolutely embarrassing if they blew this match- and their hopes of finally obtaining tag team gold.
"Did you know these were tornado rules?" Wendy asked, looking over her shoulder at the man standing behind her. Terrence Thompson was dressed in his usual modified-racing suit ring gear, but he too seemed to have taken a lethargic approach to the first stage of the gauntlet series. Wendy hoped that like the fans awaiting outside, her husband would get fired up when their turn came.
But now the Mechanical Mayhem only shook his head and shrugged. "Nah, but I'm not too surprised. PWX kinda likes to drop surprise tweaks to matches on it. Besides, if both of us are in the ring kicking ass, it'll make tonight's work that much easier."
"Don't get overconfident," Wendy admonished, although she too had this overwhelming sense that barring a massive screw-up on the WhirlyBirdz part, there was no way whatever team emerged victorious in the current match would be beating her and Terrence.
She turned back to the ring, and was shocked to see that Punch & Pie, normally the worst tag team in existence, had gone straight at the Brothers of the Will. Uriah was already outside the ring, down, and the two clowns were double teaming Xander. Wendy gasped in surprise as the two clowns hit the Pop Tart (wait... Punch and Pie even HAD a finisher?), and she found her jaw dropping as the referee counted to three. Wendy turned back to her husband, her mouth open in astonishment.
"We're facing Punch and Pie!"
"What?" This was obviously news to Terrence as well, and he came up beside her, looking through the curtain as well. Sure enough, El Torte and Los Ponch were standing in the middle of the ring, victorious, while Xander Thomas lay on his back, clutching his head in agony. "Holy crap... they won."
Wendy, wide-eyed with astonishment, looked over at her husband, who had uttered some very nasty curse words. "What's wrong, Terry?"
"We're facing the clowns... I HATE clowns!" Terrence growled in irritation, as if the answer to his sudden foul mood was obvious.
"Oh, not THIS again!" Wendy muttered, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Terry, I don't know why you're so afraid of clowns, but could you get over it, please?"
"I'm not AFRAID of them," her husband retorted, shooting Wendy a nasty glare. "I just wish God would eradicate their existence. But don't worry, it'll be that much more fun to kick their ass."
"Don't get overconfident," Wendy repeated. "Punch and Pie just pulled off a massive upset- they could be getting better. We can't let them pull off another one."
"Punch and Pie getting better?" Terrence laughed incredulously. "The Brothers of the Will just suck, Wendy. We should have seen this coming. But there is no way those two circus idiots could have gotten to the point where they are even going to stand a chance against us."
Wendy opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment, a loud tornado siren went off across the arena, while the heavy drumbeats of "The Sound of Madness" began to play. Wendy looked over at her husband, and was happy to see that his demeanor had changed completely. His face was all business, and he knew it was time for the WhirlyBirdz to do their job, and get themselves that title shot at Do Or Die.
"Ready?" The Mechanical Mayhem asked his overly-anxious wife.
Wendy nodded, took a deep breath, and pushed through the curtain, her husband following.
JUNE 21, 2010
ARC CENTER
VALPARAISO, INDIANA
9:39 PM LOCAL TIME
"Told you!" Terrence Thompson crowed triumphantly as he pushed through the curtain, leading the way to the backstage area.
"I just wish I'd get a match that lasted longer than a minute," Wendy griped as she followed him. In truth, their match against Punch and Pie had lasted almost two minutes, mostly thanks to a bizarre ballerina dance by El Torte that had left both Birdz utterly bemused. But that bemusement hadn't stopped the onslaught once it had started, and one Kamikaze later, and the Birdz were the number one contenders to the tag team titles.
Still though, Terrence could understand Wendy's frustration. Between her quick dismantling of Uriah Thomas and the massacre against Punch and Pie, Wendy had experienced less than three minutes of match time over the past two weeks.
"Well, I'm sure whoever they give us next week will be tougher," Terrence said consolingly. "Unless they give us Sami Jacobs and Cash Money as a warmup."
Wendy smiled grimly, hoping to all heaven that wasn't the case. The heavy pounding of footsteps distracted her, and she turned to see a large, heavyset man running towards her.
"Sorry I'm late!" Daniel Pollaski huffed as he ran up to them. "There was a line in the freakin' bathroom. How long til we're on?"
"Match is over," Terrence said simply, offering his manager little more than a nonchalant shrug. "We won."
"Oh." Pollaski blinked. "Congrats"
"Yeah, it was tough going there for a while," Terrence confessed. "Then the match started, and we kicked ass," he finished with a grin.
Pollaski scoffed. "Well, considering who they put you up against, I think it's obvious that JPO had you in mind as the challengers to face the Kings Among Men. This match was merely a formality to solidify it."
The three of them had reached the locker room, and Terrence grabbed the door, swinging it open, and bursting into the room, Wendy and Dan following behind. Cassie and Theresa were in the room, and Terrence smiled as his daughter leapt to the ground, and ran at him.
"You won! You won!" Theresa hollered as Terrence scooped her up into his arms.
"Of course we won," Terrence grinned. "We ALWAYS win!"
Wendy scoffed quietly at the braggadocio, but she reached out to take her daughter from her husband, and Terrence gave Theresa up. "Good job, mommy!" Theresa said as Wendy nuzzled her daughter.
"Thanks, Terr-Bear," Wendy said with a grin, as she set the three-year-old down. "That was a big win for us, because now we get to face the champions."
"You beat 'em too!" the little girl predicted.
"I hope so," Wendy said with a smile.
"Speaking of which, the Kings are wrestling right now," Pollaski interjected, walking over to the corner of the room and turning on the television.
Being that the TV was merely a 19' fullscreen, it was hardly the most luxurious viewing experience for the Birdz, but still, the old TV afforded the Birdz a great opportunity to watch their opponents in two weeks.
Or at least they had thought to...
Instead, John Pariah was standing on the entrance way, talking about how he didn't feel like wrestling today, and introducing Ryan James Dio as his impromptu tag team partner.
"Are you kidding me?" Wendy scoffed in derision. "This is a match for the tag titles, and our own CHAMPIONS use a proxy?"
Pollaski shrugged. "King's rules match, I guess."
"I don't care what you call it. A challenge for the belts is a challenge, regardless of what you think of the challengers, and to show such obvious disrespect to not only your opponent, but the titles you hold, is certainly unbecoming of a champion!" Wendy said hotly, as Ryan James Dio went to town on the two opponents. Her obvious irritation only heightened when she saw an obviously tipsy Michael Norcia sauntering to ringside, leaping onto the apron, and cracking Mikal Grayson in the head with his empty bottle of Jack Daniels. "Disgusting," Wendy muttered, shaking her head.
"Well, the fans seem to be enjoying it," Terrence observed, considering how nuts the fans were going for the systematic destruction of Grayson and Cash Money in the ring.
"That doesn't make it right," Wendy said through clenched teeth, as RJD's beatdown of the two hapless jobbers continued. "Granted, those two men shouldn't have even been given a shot at the tag team titles in the first place, but to treat a TITLE MATCH with such blatant disregard... I'm glad we're going to get the chance to dethrone these so-called 'Kings' at Do or Die!"
The match ended almost as quickly as the Birdz match against Punch and Pie did, but it was clear that while Terrence and Wendy had gone out and quickly and surgically dispatched Punch and Pie, what was going on in front of them amounted to little more than torture and humiliation for the team of Mikal Grayson and Cash Money. RJD tagged in Pariah, who merely covered Cash Money for the win.
"I don't think its over," Cassie DeSlair, who had been sitting quietly since the Birdz had returned to their locker room, spoke up softy.
"Oh, for God's sake," Wendy said, rolling her eyes as Norcia climbed into the ring to join his tag partner in further destroying Grayson and C.M. "The match is over. Those two poor men don't need this."
But the beatdown continued, and the four adults in the room watched in marcabe fascination as the Kings Among Men, with their new partner, continued to destroy their already-defeated opponents, then turned on the unsuspecting Ryan James Dios, attacking him with equal fervor.
"They couldn't have done all this DURING the match?" the increasingly irate Wendy asked as a Hand of God left RJD lying limply next to the other two broken men in the ring.
"That, was brutal," Cassie said quietly, her eyes wide at the destruction in the ring.
"I think they're sending a message to us," Terrence said quietly, watching Pariah calling him and Wendy out as he left the ring.
"Good," Wendy said hotly. "I hope those disgusting pigs are prepared for us to give our ever-so-ELOQUENT reply at the Pay-Per-View!"
With that, Wendy spun on her heel, and stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door behind her, causing the remaining four occupants in the room to jump.
"Is mama okay?" Theresa asked, obviously upset by the outburst from her mother.
"Yeah," Pollaski answered, staring at the now closed door. "There's some elements of wrestling that your mommy doesn't like, and she just had to see them in that last match. She'll calm down."
"Still," Terrence quipped, turning back to the television, snorting in disdain at the image of John Ojeda now being projected. "It's nice to have her be angry at someone ELSE for a change"
On that, everyone was in agreement.
JUNE 24, 2010
THE NEST- LIVING ROOM
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
9:10 PM LOCAL TIME
[If you were to take the hometowns of every single member of the PWX locker room, it shouldn't surprise you that the WhirlyBirdz, living a mere 150 miles from Valparaiso, have some of the shortest trips of any member of the PWX roster (save for John Pariah, of course). But it's still a three hour drive the WhirlyBirdz need to make every week, loading up the RV and leaving their cozy abode in northwestern Indianapolis. So when you travel away from home every weekend, and get a grand total of two minutes, thirty-seven seconds of competitive ring-time over the past fortnight, it gets a little irritating.]
[Poor Wendy. At least they've decided not to leave for Valpo until Sunday this week. Gives a little more home time]
[And that's where we pick up with Wendy, who is sitting on the couch, the camera mounted on a tripod about ten feet away. Wendy, of course, is ALWAYS dressed nice, and the light green blouse with a knee-length black skirt are no exception. Of course, given that she's wearing a skirt, Wendy's elected to cross her legs, so dont' think you're getting any "Miley Cyrus Shots"]
[Perverts!]
Wendy- "Well, we did it. Terrence and I were given the opportunity to earn a shot at the Kings Among Men at the Do Or Die supercard, and we took advantage of it. So, in two weeks, Terrence and I will finally have our chance to return the WhirlyBirdz to the forefront of tag team wrestling. Considering that I didn't even get a MATCH on the last PWX Supercard, I'm obviously pretty excited that I will finally have the opportunity to show the world what the WhirlyBirdz can do when we engage Michael Norcia and John Pariah. But unfortunately, Terrence and I are going to have to wait a week for our shot at tag team gold. In the meantime, Terrence and I will get to face Brian Hollywood and Darin Zion."
"While I am excited about the quality of opponents in this match, I have to say I enter with a little bit of trepidation. I don't completely understand the hatred Hollywood and Zion have for each other, but I can tell you that is NOT a feud I want to be getting into the middle of! But you have to play the cards you're dealt, and if JPO thinks that the best match available is to put those two men on the same team, I suppose I'm not one to argue. I just hope they can keep the self-destruction to a minimum until AFTER we beat them."
[A small smile from Wendy]
Wendy- "Now, Darin Zion is a man I can respect. He's obviously a very talented wrestler, having just defeated Rick Rampage for the CWC North American championship. But even more than that, Darin is a man who genuinely believes that the right way is more important than the easy way. From what I've seen of Darin, I hold him in the highest esteem, and I wish him all the luck in his match at Do or Die."
"But I know that Darin's mind's in other places this week, as he has to leave for Italy to deal with the matter of his friend's murder. I wish Darin safe travels as he deals with this obviously difficult situation, and hope he's back, and well rested for his match against us. But on to his 'partner' for this week, Brian Hollywood."
[A small pause as Wendy's normally placid demeanor changes instantly. Her eyes narrow, and her eyes take on an almost sinister gleam. Her lips curl into a smile that obviously cannot be genuine.]
Wendy- "So, Brian, we meet again."
[A small chuckle from Wendy, and she shakes her head]
Wendy- "Brian, the last time you and I were together, you and your henchman Chris Stern were coercing me into giving you a win in your match against Jay Price. And, I'm ashamed to admit that I folded under the pressure. Then again, the chain you had Stern place around my neck obviously was quite an effective argument."
[Obviously, Wendy remembers the Last Man Standing match she guest refereed at Full Throttle well. She had agreed to referee in an attempt to keep Brian Hollywood from cheating, but obviously that had failed, as Chris Stern came in, leveled Jay Price with a chain, then wrapped the chain around Wendy's neck and forced her to make the count.]
Wendy- "I'll admit, that was humiliating. That's twice now that you've managed to embarrass me, Brian, and I think you're well aware that I'm hardly going to stand for that. But this time, there's nothing you can do. This week, I'm not a referee intent on being an impartial observer to a match. Nor am I as susceptible to a chair shot from you like I was in our first match against each other. I know your tricks. And on Monday night, there will be nowhere for you to run. I have my husband alongside me, and you don't have Chris Stern in your corner. You have your mortal enemy. You're outnumbered, and you better toe the line."
"I know I probably sound like a hypocrite, given what an advocate I am for fairness in the wrestling ring. But you haven't given two seconds worth of thought about fairness, or ethics, or even simple human decency. The way I see it, Brian, you're being hoisted on your own petard, and while I'm holding no illusions that this is going to make you see the error of your ways, I'll admit there will be a certain gratification in watching you squirm."
[A big humorless smile from Wendy now.]
Wendy- "I think you remember well what happened when we met in that hallway the week before Do or Die, Brian. I had you down on the ground, in the Banshee, screaming your throat raw. And I told you that was going to happen. Like I said, I don't resort to sneak attacks. I made sure you knew I was there, and you had ample opportunity to defend yourself. But you didn't, because you couldn't. It's going to be the same way Monday night. Every single time you and I have met on a level playing field, I have been dominant, and you have been forced to slink away to lick your wounds. That's not going to change, because you adamantly refuse to improve yourself as a wrestler and a human being, and instead resort to petty tricks to get your way."
"I've waited a month for this opportunity, Brian. At Adrenaline 37, you're going to realize that hitting me over the head with a chair was the worst mistake you ever made. You are going to be exposed as little more than a craven bully who can't win anything on his own merit. And then, Terrence and I are going to go to Do or Die, and we're going to take the belt away from your former Hierarchy buddy, John Pariah, and restore some honor to the tag team division."
[There's absolutely no smile from Wendy now, just a cold stare into the camera, anger in her emerald eyes.]
Wendy- "Brian Hollywood, the hour of your downfall is upon you. With your arrogance, you have lit too many fires, and now you stand to be immolated by the inferno you created. No secret deals, or hidden accomplices, or whatever other scheme you can concoct can save you anymore. By the time I'm done, there may not even be enough left of you for Darin Zion to crush at the supercard. Because, the more and more I think about it... the more and more I've determined...
[Wendy pauses, and sighs, but steels her resolve and continues. There's almost a sadness in her eyes, though, as if Wendy truly is disappointed that she's come to this conclusion.]
Wendy- "That the best thing I could ever do for the world of wrestling is to remove Brian Hollywood from it."
[Fade]
ARC CENTER
VALPARAISO, INDIANA
9:34 PM LOCAL TIME
Wendy Briese-Thompson poked her head through the curtain and looked out over the arena. To her dismay, if not her surprise, she noticed how many of the fans in attendance looked lethargic, almost bored, over the match getting underway in the ring. She supposed she couldn't really blame them- Brothers of the Will vs. Punch and Pie was hardly the reason any of them bought their ticket tonight. But considering that she and her husband were about to take on the winner for a shot at the tag titles at Do Or Die, she figured she at least better watch. After all, despite the obvious lack of acclaim concerning her potential opponents, it would be absolutely embarrassing if they blew this match- and their hopes of finally obtaining tag team gold.
"Did you know these were tornado rules?" Wendy asked, looking over her shoulder at the man standing behind her. Terrence Thompson was dressed in his usual modified-racing suit ring gear, but he too seemed to have taken a lethargic approach to the first stage of the gauntlet series. Wendy hoped that like the fans awaiting outside, her husband would get fired up when their turn came.
But now the Mechanical Mayhem only shook his head and shrugged. "Nah, but I'm not too surprised. PWX kinda likes to drop surprise tweaks to matches on it. Besides, if both of us are in the ring kicking ass, it'll make tonight's work that much easier."
"Don't get overconfident," Wendy admonished, although she too had this overwhelming sense that barring a massive screw-up on the WhirlyBirdz part, there was no way whatever team emerged victorious in the current match would be beating her and Terrence.
She turned back to the ring, and was shocked to see that Punch & Pie, normally the worst tag team in existence, had gone straight at the Brothers of the Will. Uriah was already outside the ring, down, and the two clowns were double teaming Xander. Wendy gasped in surprise as the two clowns hit the Pop Tart (wait... Punch and Pie even HAD a finisher?), and she found her jaw dropping as the referee counted to three. Wendy turned back to her husband, her mouth open in astonishment.
"We're facing Punch and Pie!"
"What?" This was obviously news to Terrence as well, and he came up beside her, looking through the curtain as well. Sure enough, El Torte and Los Ponch were standing in the middle of the ring, victorious, while Xander Thomas lay on his back, clutching his head in agony. "Holy crap... they won."
Wendy, wide-eyed with astonishment, looked over at her husband, who had uttered some very nasty curse words. "What's wrong, Terry?"
"We're facing the clowns... I HATE clowns!" Terrence growled in irritation, as if the answer to his sudden foul mood was obvious.
"Oh, not THIS again!" Wendy muttered, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Terry, I don't know why you're so afraid of clowns, but could you get over it, please?"
"I'm not AFRAID of them," her husband retorted, shooting Wendy a nasty glare. "I just wish God would eradicate their existence. But don't worry, it'll be that much more fun to kick their ass."
"Don't get overconfident," Wendy repeated. "Punch and Pie just pulled off a massive upset- they could be getting better. We can't let them pull off another one."
"Punch and Pie getting better?" Terrence laughed incredulously. "The Brothers of the Will just suck, Wendy. We should have seen this coming. But there is no way those two circus idiots could have gotten to the point where they are even going to stand a chance against us."
Wendy opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment, a loud tornado siren went off across the arena, while the heavy drumbeats of "The Sound of Madness" began to play. Wendy looked over at her husband, and was happy to see that his demeanor had changed completely. His face was all business, and he knew it was time for the WhirlyBirdz to do their job, and get themselves that title shot at Do Or Die.
"Ready?" The Mechanical Mayhem asked his overly-anxious wife.
Wendy nodded, took a deep breath, and pushed through the curtain, her husband following.
JUNE 21, 2010
ARC CENTER
VALPARAISO, INDIANA
9:39 PM LOCAL TIME
"Told you!" Terrence Thompson crowed triumphantly as he pushed through the curtain, leading the way to the backstage area.
"I just wish I'd get a match that lasted longer than a minute," Wendy griped as she followed him. In truth, their match against Punch and Pie had lasted almost two minutes, mostly thanks to a bizarre ballerina dance by El Torte that had left both Birdz utterly bemused. But that bemusement hadn't stopped the onslaught once it had started, and one Kamikaze later, and the Birdz were the number one contenders to the tag team titles.
Still though, Terrence could understand Wendy's frustration. Between her quick dismantling of Uriah Thomas and the massacre against Punch and Pie, Wendy had experienced less than three minutes of match time over the past two weeks.
"Well, I'm sure whoever they give us next week will be tougher," Terrence said consolingly. "Unless they give us Sami Jacobs and Cash Money as a warmup."
Wendy smiled grimly, hoping to all heaven that wasn't the case. The heavy pounding of footsteps distracted her, and she turned to see a large, heavyset man running towards her.
"Sorry I'm late!" Daniel Pollaski huffed as he ran up to them. "There was a line in the freakin' bathroom. How long til we're on?"
"Match is over," Terrence said simply, offering his manager little more than a nonchalant shrug. "We won."
"Oh." Pollaski blinked. "Congrats"
"Yeah, it was tough going there for a while," Terrence confessed. "Then the match started, and we kicked ass," he finished with a grin.
Pollaski scoffed. "Well, considering who they put you up against, I think it's obvious that JPO had you in mind as the challengers to face the Kings Among Men. This match was merely a formality to solidify it."
The three of them had reached the locker room, and Terrence grabbed the door, swinging it open, and bursting into the room, Wendy and Dan following behind. Cassie and Theresa were in the room, and Terrence smiled as his daughter leapt to the ground, and ran at him.
"You won! You won!" Theresa hollered as Terrence scooped her up into his arms.
"Of course we won," Terrence grinned. "We ALWAYS win!"
Wendy scoffed quietly at the braggadocio, but she reached out to take her daughter from her husband, and Terrence gave Theresa up. "Good job, mommy!" Theresa said as Wendy nuzzled her daughter.
"Thanks, Terr-Bear," Wendy said with a grin, as she set the three-year-old down. "That was a big win for us, because now we get to face the champions."
"You beat 'em too!" the little girl predicted.
"I hope so," Wendy said with a smile.
"Speaking of which, the Kings are wrestling right now," Pollaski interjected, walking over to the corner of the room and turning on the television.
Being that the TV was merely a 19' fullscreen, it was hardly the most luxurious viewing experience for the Birdz, but still, the old TV afforded the Birdz a great opportunity to watch their opponents in two weeks.
Or at least they had thought to...
Instead, John Pariah was standing on the entrance way, talking about how he didn't feel like wrestling today, and introducing Ryan James Dio as his impromptu tag team partner.
"Are you kidding me?" Wendy scoffed in derision. "This is a match for the tag titles, and our own CHAMPIONS use a proxy?"
Pollaski shrugged. "King's rules match, I guess."
"I don't care what you call it. A challenge for the belts is a challenge, regardless of what you think of the challengers, and to show such obvious disrespect to not only your opponent, but the titles you hold, is certainly unbecoming of a champion!" Wendy said hotly, as Ryan James Dio went to town on the two opponents. Her obvious irritation only heightened when she saw an obviously tipsy Michael Norcia sauntering to ringside, leaping onto the apron, and cracking Mikal Grayson in the head with his empty bottle of Jack Daniels. "Disgusting," Wendy muttered, shaking her head.
"Well, the fans seem to be enjoying it," Terrence observed, considering how nuts the fans were going for the systematic destruction of Grayson and Cash Money in the ring.
"That doesn't make it right," Wendy said through clenched teeth, as RJD's beatdown of the two hapless jobbers continued. "Granted, those two men shouldn't have even been given a shot at the tag team titles in the first place, but to treat a TITLE MATCH with such blatant disregard... I'm glad we're going to get the chance to dethrone these so-called 'Kings' at Do or Die!"
The match ended almost as quickly as the Birdz match against Punch and Pie did, but it was clear that while Terrence and Wendy had gone out and quickly and surgically dispatched Punch and Pie, what was going on in front of them amounted to little more than torture and humiliation for the team of Mikal Grayson and Cash Money. RJD tagged in Pariah, who merely covered Cash Money for the win.
"I don't think its over," Cassie DeSlair, who had been sitting quietly since the Birdz had returned to their locker room, spoke up softy.
"Oh, for God's sake," Wendy said, rolling her eyes as Norcia climbed into the ring to join his tag partner in further destroying Grayson and C.M. "The match is over. Those two poor men don't need this."
But the beatdown continued, and the four adults in the room watched in marcabe fascination as the Kings Among Men, with their new partner, continued to destroy their already-defeated opponents, then turned on the unsuspecting Ryan James Dios, attacking him with equal fervor.
"They couldn't have done all this DURING the match?" the increasingly irate Wendy asked as a Hand of God left RJD lying limply next to the other two broken men in the ring.
"That, was brutal," Cassie said quietly, her eyes wide at the destruction in the ring.
"I think they're sending a message to us," Terrence said quietly, watching Pariah calling him and Wendy out as he left the ring.
"Good," Wendy said hotly. "I hope those disgusting pigs are prepared for us to give our ever-so-ELOQUENT reply at the Pay-Per-View!"
With that, Wendy spun on her heel, and stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door behind her, causing the remaining four occupants in the room to jump.
"Is mama okay?" Theresa asked, obviously upset by the outburst from her mother.
"Yeah," Pollaski answered, staring at the now closed door. "There's some elements of wrestling that your mommy doesn't like, and she just had to see them in that last match. She'll calm down."
"Still," Terrence quipped, turning back to the television, snorting in disdain at the image of John Ojeda now being projected. "It's nice to have her be angry at someone ELSE for a change"
On that, everyone was in agreement.
JUNE 24, 2010
THE NEST- LIVING ROOM
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
9:10 PM LOCAL TIME
[If you were to take the hometowns of every single member of the PWX locker room, it shouldn't surprise you that the WhirlyBirdz, living a mere 150 miles from Valparaiso, have some of the shortest trips of any member of the PWX roster (save for John Pariah, of course). But it's still a three hour drive the WhirlyBirdz need to make every week, loading up the RV and leaving their cozy abode in northwestern Indianapolis. So when you travel away from home every weekend, and get a grand total of two minutes, thirty-seven seconds of competitive ring-time over the past fortnight, it gets a little irritating.]
[Poor Wendy. At least they've decided not to leave for Valpo until Sunday this week. Gives a little more home time]
[And that's where we pick up with Wendy, who is sitting on the couch, the camera mounted on a tripod about ten feet away. Wendy, of course, is ALWAYS dressed nice, and the light green blouse with a knee-length black skirt are no exception. Of course, given that she's wearing a skirt, Wendy's elected to cross her legs, so dont' think you're getting any "Miley Cyrus Shots"]
[Perverts!]
Wendy- "Well, we did it. Terrence and I were given the opportunity to earn a shot at the Kings Among Men at the Do Or Die supercard, and we took advantage of it. So, in two weeks, Terrence and I will finally have our chance to return the WhirlyBirdz to the forefront of tag team wrestling. Considering that I didn't even get a MATCH on the last PWX Supercard, I'm obviously pretty excited that I will finally have the opportunity to show the world what the WhirlyBirdz can do when we engage Michael Norcia and John Pariah. But unfortunately, Terrence and I are going to have to wait a week for our shot at tag team gold. In the meantime, Terrence and I will get to face Brian Hollywood and Darin Zion."
"While I am excited about the quality of opponents in this match, I have to say I enter with a little bit of trepidation. I don't completely understand the hatred Hollywood and Zion have for each other, but I can tell you that is NOT a feud I want to be getting into the middle of! But you have to play the cards you're dealt, and if JPO thinks that the best match available is to put those two men on the same team, I suppose I'm not one to argue. I just hope they can keep the self-destruction to a minimum until AFTER we beat them."
[A small smile from Wendy]
Wendy- "Now, Darin Zion is a man I can respect. He's obviously a very talented wrestler, having just defeated Rick Rampage for the CWC North American championship. But even more than that, Darin is a man who genuinely believes that the right way is more important than the easy way. From what I've seen of Darin, I hold him in the highest esteem, and I wish him all the luck in his match at Do or Die."
"But I know that Darin's mind's in other places this week, as he has to leave for Italy to deal with the matter of his friend's murder. I wish Darin safe travels as he deals with this obviously difficult situation, and hope he's back, and well rested for his match against us. But on to his 'partner' for this week, Brian Hollywood."
[A small pause as Wendy's normally placid demeanor changes instantly. Her eyes narrow, and her eyes take on an almost sinister gleam. Her lips curl into a smile that obviously cannot be genuine.]
Wendy- "So, Brian, we meet again."
[A small chuckle from Wendy, and she shakes her head]
Wendy- "Brian, the last time you and I were together, you and your henchman Chris Stern were coercing me into giving you a win in your match against Jay Price. And, I'm ashamed to admit that I folded under the pressure. Then again, the chain you had Stern place around my neck obviously was quite an effective argument."
[Obviously, Wendy remembers the Last Man Standing match she guest refereed at Full Throttle well. She had agreed to referee in an attempt to keep Brian Hollywood from cheating, but obviously that had failed, as Chris Stern came in, leveled Jay Price with a chain, then wrapped the chain around Wendy's neck and forced her to make the count.]
Wendy- "I'll admit, that was humiliating. That's twice now that you've managed to embarrass me, Brian, and I think you're well aware that I'm hardly going to stand for that. But this time, there's nothing you can do. This week, I'm not a referee intent on being an impartial observer to a match. Nor am I as susceptible to a chair shot from you like I was in our first match against each other. I know your tricks. And on Monday night, there will be nowhere for you to run. I have my husband alongside me, and you don't have Chris Stern in your corner. You have your mortal enemy. You're outnumbered, and you better toe the line."
"I know I probably sound like a hypocrite, given what an advocate I am for fairness in the wrestling ring. But you haven't given two seconds worth of thought about fairness, or ethics, or even simple human decency. The way I see it, Brian, you're being hoisted on your own petard, and while I'm holding no illusions that this is going to make you see the error of your ways, I'll admit there will be a certain gratification in watching you squirm."
[A big humorless smile from Wendy now.]
Wendy- "I think you remember well what happened when we met in that hallway the week before Do or Die, Brian. I had you down on the ground, in the Banshee, screaming your throat raw. And I told you that was going to happen. Like I said, I don't resort to sneak attacks. I made sure you knew I was there, and you had ample opportunity to defend yourself. But you didn't, because you couldn't. It's going to be the same way Monday night. Every single time you and I have met on a level playing field, I have been dominant, and you have been forced to slink away to lick your wounds. That's not going to change, because you adamantly refuse to improve yourself as a wrestler and a human being, and instead resort to petty tricks to get your way."
"I've waited a month for this opportunity, Brian. At Adrenaline 37, you're going to realize that hitting me over the head with a chair was the worst mistake you ever made. You are going to be exposed as little more than a craven bully who can't win anything on his own merit. And then, Terrence and I are going to go to Do or Die, and we're going to take the belt away from your former Hierarchy buddy, John Pariah, and restore some honor to the tag team division."
[There's absolutely no smile from Wendy now, just a cold stare into the camera, anger in her emerald eyes.]
Wendy- "Brian Hollywood, the hour of your downfall is upon you. With your arrogance, you have lit too many fires, and now you stand to be immolated by the inferno you created. No secret deals, or hidden accomplices, or whatever other scheme you can concoct can save you anymore. By the time I'm done, there may not even be enough left of you for Darin Zion to crush at the supercard. Because, the more and more I think about it... the more and more I've determined...
[Wendy pauses, and sighs, but steels her resolve and continues. There's almost a sadness in her eyes, though, as if Wendy truly is disappointed that she's come to this conclusion.]
Wendy- "That the best thing I could ever do for the world of wrestling is to remove Brian Hollywood from it."
[Fade]
EPISODE 19: Fallen Angels
OCTOBER 14, 2002
HARTFORD CIVIC CENTER
HARTFORD CONNECTICUT
10:57 PM LOCAL TIME
Wendy Briese rocked backwards as the blow slammed into her, and almost had to pinwheel her arms to keep from falling back down. She absolutely could NOT afford to lose her balance here. She looked down at the man, perched on top of the cage like a gigantic vulture. He weighed almost twice what she did, but even so, if Michael Lennox knocked her off here, it would all be over.
Wendy fired back desperately with a couple shots of her own. Cursing herself for her stupidity. Ulfric had already left the cage, and now stood on the outside, the expression on his face a mixture of apprehension and triumph. On one hand, all Lennox needed to do was shove Wendy away, and touched the ground, and the pesky WhirlyBirdz would be defeated again. On the other hand, if Lennox could not escape, that left him alone in the cage with both Terrence and Wendy.
She could hear her finacee below, shouting encouragement to her. Lennox had almost made good on his escape, but she had been the faster climber by far, and had managed to catch him at the top of the cage. Even so, she was badly overmatched here. Brawls on top of steel cages were definitely not the strongest element of her game plan.
But three times now, the Dark Angels had left her and Terrence lying in a bloody heap in the middle of the ring, and she'd sooner go on a date with the Pharaohs of Rage before she'd let Ulfric and Michael Lennox get the better of HER again. But another couple of blows slammed into her, and she had to reach down, grasping her hand around the top bar of the cage to keep from falling twelve feet to the ring below. This only left her open for more barrages, and Michael was all to willing to oblige. Wendy felt her head reeling. She was going to fall... it was going to be over...
NO! On pure desperation, Wendy reached out, grabbing Lennox around the head. At that moment, her feet slipped and she was falling, but so was Lennox...
THUD!
Wendy would have screamed, but the impact knocked all the air from her lungs, so all she could do was gasp like a fish. Her body was racked with pain from the impact of the fall. But as she lay on her side, curled up in a ball, she glanced at Lennox and knew she had gotten the better of the fall. Lennox had spiked on his head, and lay unconscious, his breathing shallow. As Wendy stared at his body, she ccame to notice that the crowd was screaming over the impact.
Outside, Ulfric was climbing back up the cage, the Angel's momentum was gone, and he needed to save his brother. Terrence was standing over her, calmly waiting for the large black-and-blue haired man to return to the match. Wendy for her part, forced herself to move. Every nerve in her body screamed in protest as she shakily climbed to her feet. This match wasn't over, and she could hardly rest until it was. She moved to stand beside her husband, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lennox stirring.
Thinking quickly, Wendy left her husband. He could handle Ulfric by himself, but the last thing they could afford was Lennox getting back into this match. Wendy hooked Lennox's leg, and locked on an STF. Below her, she felt The Wolverine grunting from the pain of the submission hold, and he began to struggle, but she had the hold locked on. She looked up,and saw Terrence holding Archangel, Micheal Lennox's trademarked barbed-wire wrapped chair. Ulfric kicked it from his hand, however, and the two men began to brawl. She felt her position slip just a bit, as Lennox continued his struggles, and she bit her lip, struggling to keep the hold applied.
Terrence suddenly got the upper hand, and he grabbed Ulfric, leaping back, the Head On Collision slamming Ulfric face first into Archangel. The pro-Birdz crowd screamed, and Wendy felt her breath catch in her throat. The distraction caused her to slip, however, and she gulped.
Lennox was going to break free, but in time.
As Terrence covered Ulfric, and the ref went to count, Wendy struggled to keep what was left of the hold on, to keep Lennox from saving his brother. The ref was counting....
One...
With a grunt of pain, Lennox forced her hands from around his chin, and Wendy knew she had do do whatever she could to keep Lennox from breaking up that pin.
Two...
Wendy tried to reapply the hold, but Lennox merely threw her to the side, and Wendy rolled away. But Lennox hadn't the stregnth to get up, and he could only drag himself forward towards Terrence...
Three!!!!
Wendy closed her eyes as the bell rang. She supposed she should be jubilant, but right now, she was tired, and felt amazingly lucky to have survived. But she hadn't just survived- she and Terrence had just engaged the Dark Angels, two of the most brutal men in wrestling history, inside a steel cage, and they had WON.
She could feel Terrence's hands gently hauling her to her feet, and as her emerald green eyes looked into his brown ones, that jubilation began to come. She leapt into her boyfriends arms, and the two kissed, as the referee rolled into the ring, WWA World Tag Team Titles in hand, patiently waiting for the new champions to break apart before handing them the belts. The two took their prizes, and held them up triumphantly, the fans giving them a massive round of applause.
"Want me to propose again?" Terrence whispered in her ear as the cheers continued to rain down. The first time the two had won the world tag team championships, Terrence had proposed immediately after the match, and of course Wendy had accepted.
But now she only shook her head, smiling. "I think the first one took well enough," she replied, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, as the two continued to bask in the glory of their fans.
JUNE 18, 2002
BILL'S RV PARK & SCUBA ADVENTURE
VALPARAISO, INDIANA
5:10 PM LOCAL TIME
[The scene opens in the living room of The Nest. Terrence and Wendy are sitting on the couch, both looking at the camera. Wendy sits in her usual rigid puritanical position, while next to her, the Mechanical Mayhem seems a little more relaxed, leaning back on the couch and putting his arm around his wife.]
Wendy- "Eight years ago. It's been almost eight years since Terrence and I won a Tag Team Title. After Terrence and I lost the WWA Tag Titles to the Pharaoh's of Rage, we decided to focus on our singles careers for the time being. That time being became permanent, and save for a couple of matches here and there, and a few tournaments, we never really got back into the tag ranks."
[Small smile from Wendy]
Wendy- "Until now, that is. I think both Terrence and I will always regret that we never managed to get a third WWA Tag Title before the Alliance folded. But while that path may now be closed to us, the PWX Tag Team Titles, and the Kings Among Men, are there for the taking. But before we can get to the Kings, we have to get through Punch and Pie and the Brothers of the Will. Now, both of these formidable op-"
[Wendy is cut off as her husband bursts out laughing, and she turns to reguard him.]
Wendy- "You okay?"
Twister- "Yeah... I'm fine. It's just that... you know you're not fooling anyone, right?"
[There's a slight pause as Wendy looks at her husband, an expression of confusion on her face.]
Wendy- "What are you talking about?"
Twister- "Let me put it to you this way, hon. The only people on the planet that would EVER consider the Brothers of the Won't 'formidable' is Punch and Pie."
[Wendy remains unperterbed, however]
Wendy- "So maybe they don't have the best accolades of the PWX roster. Still, it would be foolishness to overlook them..."
[Terrence shrugs, grinning at his wife.]
Twister- "Why? I mean, at least then it MIGHT be a close match. We go out there, guns ablazing, and all four of our opponents are gonna be dead before we even get warmed up. I mean, how long did Uriah Thomas last when you faced him one on one?"
[Slight Pause]
Wendy- "Thirty-six seconds."
[Wendy says this as if she's half proud of whipping an opponent in under a minute, half-ashamed for denying the fans what would had surely been a five-star classic between her and Uriah had she not won so quickly]
Twister- "See? And Xander could hardly get a move in edgewise! Face it, hon. We're walking out of this match the winners, and there isn't a damn thing the Brother's of the Won't can do to stop us. As for Punch and Pie..."
[Very long pause.]
Twister- "I fucking hate clowns!"
[Wendy raises an eyebrow, and looks over at her husband. For his part, Terrence merely shrugs.]
Twister- "Well, I do."
[Rolling her eyes, Wendy turns back to the camera.]
Wendy- "While I obviously don't carry my husbands... flippant attitude, I do have to agree with him in that the WhirlyBirdz are the obvious favorites to be winning this match. We have more experience, we have more ability, and we have more drive. Like I said last week, while Xander Thomas is an annoying loudmouth, he and his brother do have some talent to them. But it's been a long time since Terrence and I have truly competed as a tag team, and we are looking forward to the opportunity."
[Slight pause]
Wendy- "But when Terrence and I are a team, there isn't a force in the world, from the Kings Among Men, to the Belmonts, to the Brothers of the Will, that can stop us. The bond Terry and I share, coupled with both of our natural abilities, makes us stronger and tougher than we are as individuals. And anyone who's faced us in singles competition knows that's saying something."
[Wendy gives a slight smile, while beside her, Terrence smirks and folds his arms over his chest, while Wendy wraps it up]
Wendy- "So best of luck to all our opponents, but this is our match to win, and win it we will. And at Do or Die, Terrence and I will bring tag team wrestling back to its roots. These gimmick matches and wild stipulations. They are not what the tag team division needs. What this division needs is a strong, athletic team that knows how to truly work as one. That team is us, and on Monday night, we will prove to you that once again, the WhirlyBirdz are the future of tag team wrestling."
[Wendy gives a small smile]
Wendy- "Watch, and you'll know I speak the truth."
[Fade out]
HARTFORD CIVIC CENTER
HARTFORD CONNECTICUT
10:57 PM LOCAL TIME
Wendy Briese rocked backwards as the blow slammed into her, and almost had to pinwheel her arms to keep from falling back down. She absolutely could NOT afford to lose her balance here. She looked down at the man, perched on top of the cage like a gigantic vulture. He weighed almost twice what she did, but even so, if Michael Lennox knocked her off here, it would all be over.
Wendy fired back desperately with a couple shots of her own. Cursing herself for her stupidity. Ulfric had already left the cage, and now stood on the outside, the expression on his face a mixture of apprehension and triumph. On one hand, all Lennox needed to do was shove Wendy away, and touched the ground, and the pesky WhirlyBirdz would be defeated again. On the other hand, if Lennox could not escape, that left him alone in the cage with both Terrence and Wendy.
She could hear her finacee below, shouting encouragement to her. Lennox had almost made good on his escape, but she had been the faster climber by far, and had managed to catch him at the top of the cage. Even so, she was badly overmatched here. Brawls on top of steel cages were definitely not the strongest element of her game plan.
But three times now, the Dark Angels had left her and Terrence lying in a bloody heap in the middle of the ring, and she'd sooner go on a date with the Pharaohs of Rage before she'd let Ulfric and Michael Lennox get the better of HER again. But another couple of blows slammed into her, and she had to reach down, grasping her hand around the top bar of the cage to keep from falling twelve feet to the ring below. This only left her open for more barrages, and Michael was all to willing to oblige. Wendy felt her head reeling. She was going to fall... it was going to be over...
NO! On pure desperation, Wendy reached out, grabbing Lennox around the head. At that moment, her feet slipped and she was falling, but so was Lennox...
THUD!
Wendy would have screamed, but the impact knocked all the air from her lungs, so all she could do was gasp like a fish. Her body was racked with pain from the impact of the fall. But as she lay on her side, curled up in a ball, she glanced at Lennox and knew she had gotten the better of the fall. Lennox had spiked on his head, and lay unconscious, his breathing shallow. As Wendy stared at his body, she ccame to notice that the crowd was screaming over the impact.
Outside, Ulfric was climbing back up the cage, the Angel's momentum was gone, and he needed to save his brother. Terrence was standing over her, calmly waiting for the large black-and-blue haired man to return to the match. Wendy for her part, forced herself to move. Every nerve in her body screamed in protest as she shakily climbed to her feet. This match wasn't over, and she could hardly rest until it was. She moved to stand beside her husband, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lennox stirring.
Thinking quickly, Wendy left her husband. He could handle Ulfric by himself, but the last thing they could afford was Lennox getting back into this match. Wendy hooked Lennox's leg, and locked on an STF. Below her, she felt The Wolverine grunting from the pain of the submission hold, and he began to struggle, but she had the hold locked on. She looked up,and saw Terrence holding Archangel, Micheal Lennox's trademarked barbed-wire wrapped chair. Ulfric kicked it from his hand, however, and the two men began to brawl. She felt her position slip just a bit, as Lennox continued his struggles, and she bit her lip, struggling to keep the hold applied.
Terrence suddenly got the upper hand, and he grabbed Ulfric, leaping back, the Head On Collision slamming Ulfric face first into Archangel. The pro-Birdz crowd screamed, and Wendy felt her breath catch in her throat. The distraction caused her to slip, however, and she gulped.
Lennox was going to break free, but in time.
As Terrence covered Ulfric, and the ref went to count, Wendy struggled to keep what was left of the hold on, to keep Lennox from saving his brother. The ref was counting....
One...
With a grunt of pain, Lennox forced her hands from around his chin, and Wendy knew she had do do whatever she could to keep Lennox from breaking up that pin.
Two...
Wendy tried to reapply the hold, but Lennox merely threw her to the side, and Wendy rolled away. But Lennox hadn't the stregnth to get up, and he could only drag himself forward towards Terrence...
Three!!!!
Wendy closed her eyes as the bell rang. She supposed she should be jubilant, but right now, she was tired, and felt amazingly lucky to have survived. But she hadn't just survived- she and Terrence had just engaged the Dark Angels, two of the most brutal men in wrestling history, inside a steel cage, and they had WON.
She could feel Terrence's hands gently hauling her to her feet, and as her emerald green eyes looked into his brown ones, that jubilation began to come. She leapt into her boyfriends arms, and the two kissed, as the referee rolled into the ring, WWA World Tag Team Titles in hand, patiently waiting for the new champions to break apart before handing them the belts. The two took their prizes, and held them up triumphantly, the fans giving them a massive round of applause.
"Want me to propose again?" Terrence whispered in her ear as the cheers continued to rain down. The first time the two had won the world tag team championships, Terrence had proposed immediately after the match, and of course Wendy had accepted.
But now she only shook her head, smiling. "I think the first one took well enough," she replied, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, as the two continued to bask in the glory of their fans.
JUNE 18, 2002
BILL'S RV PARK & SCUBA ADVENTURE
VALPARAISO, INDIANA
5:10 PM LOCAL TIME
[The scene opens in the living room of The Nest. Terrence and Wendy are sitting on the couch, both looking at the camera. Wendy sits in her usual rigid puritanical position, while next to her, the Mechanical Mayhem seems a little more relaxed, leaning back on the couch and putting his arm around his wife.]
Wendy- "Eight years ago. It's been almost eight years since Terrence and I won a Tag Team Title. After Terrence and I lost the WWA Tag Titles to the Pharaoh's of Rage, we decided to focus on our singles careers for the time being. That time being became permanent, and save for a couple of matches here and there, and a few tournaments, we never really got back into the tag ranks."
[Small smile from Wendy]
Wendy- "Until now, that is. I think both Terrence and I will always regret that we never managed to get a third WWA Tag Title before the Alliance folded. But while that path may now be closed to us, the PWX Tag Team Titles, and the Kings Among Men, are there for the taking. But before we can get to the Kings, we have to get through Punch and Pie and the Brothers of the Will. Now, both of these formidable op-"
[Wendy is cut off as her husband bursts out laughing, and she turns to reguard him.]
Wendy- "You okay?"
Twister- "Yeah... I'm fine. It's just that... you know you're not fooling anyone, right?"
[There's a slight pause as Wendy looks at her husband, an expression of confusion on her face.]
Wendy- "What are you talking about?"
Twister- "Let me put it to you this way, hon. The only people on the planet that would EVER consider the Brothers of the Won't 'formidable' is Punch and Pie."
[Wendy remains unperterbed, however]
Wendy- "So maybe they don't have the best accolades of the PWX roster. Still, it would be foolishness to overlook them..."
[Terrence shrugs, grinning at his wife.]
Twister- "Why? I mean, at least then it MIGHT be a close match. We go out there, guns ablazing, and all four of our opponents are gonna be dead before we even get warmed up. I mean, how long did Uriah Thomas last when you faced him one on one?"
[Slight Pause]
Wendy- "Thirty-six seconds."
[Wendy says this as if she's half proud of whipping an opponent in under a minute, half-ashamed for denying the fans what would had surely been a five-star classic between her and Uriah had she not won so quickly]
Twister- "See? And Xander could hardly get a move in edgewise! Face it, hon. We're walking out of this match the winners, and there isn't a damn thing the Brother's of the Won't can do to stop us. As for Punch and Pie..."
[Very long pause.]
Twister- "I fucking hate clowns!"
[Wendy raises an eyebrow, and looks over at her husband. For his part, Terrence merely shrugs.]
Twister- "Well, I do."
[Rolling her eyes, Wendy turns back to the camera.]
Wendy- "While I obviously don't carry my husbands... flippant attitude, I do have to agree with him in that the WhirlyBirdz are the obvious favorites to be winning this match. We have more experience, we have more ability, and we have more drive. Like I said last week, while Xander Thomas is an annoying loudmouth, he and his brother do have some talent to them. But it's been a long time since Terrence and I have truly competed as a tag team, and we are looking forward to the opportunity."
[Slight pause]
Wendy- "But when Terrence and I are a team, there isn't a force in the world, from the Kings Among Men, to the Belmonts, to the Brothers of the Will, that can stop us. The bond Terry and I share, coupled with both of our natural abilities, makes us stronger and tougher than we are as individuals. And anyone who's faced us in singles competition knows that's saying something."
[Wendy gives a slight smile, while beside her, Terrence smirks and folds his arms over his chest, while Wendy wraps it up]
Wendy- "So best of luck to all our opponents, but this is our match to win, and win it we will. And at Do or Die, Terrence and I will bring tag team wrestling back to its roots. These gimmick matches and wild stipulations. They are not what the tag team division needs. What this division needs is a strong, athletic team that knows how to truly work as one. That team is us, and on Monday night, we will prove to you that once again, the WhirlyBirdz are the future of tag team wrestling."
[Wendy gives a small smile]
Wendy- "Watch, and you'll know I speak the truth."
[Fade out]
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