EPISODE 100: Unfriending Ariel

Sunday May 15, 2011
Toledo Motor Speedway- Outside Garage Area
Toledo, Ohio
5:11 PM Local Time

“There he is,” I muttered to myself, as I saw the Diamond Motorsports haulers tucked away at the back of the lot, and began to push my way through the crowds towards them. The Menards 200 had just ended, and, as could be predicted, the garage area was a state of bedlam, with teams loading up haulers, fans wandering through, hoping to get a last-second autograph, or just to see up close the incredible machines they had spent the afternoon watching.

Considering Terrence now sat a meager 31st in the ARCA standings (not a horrible situation, considering he had missed the opening race of the season), the crowd in front of his hauler was understandably smaller than those of the more renowned drivers. Truth be told, it seemed, at least for the time being, that Terrence’s fanbase largely consisted of those who had been his fans while he was wrestling, and just happened to follow both pro-wrestling and ARCA racing.

My husband had already changed out of his racesuit, and was wearing a dark blue polo shirt and a pair of khakis. While the rest of his crew worked around him, Terrence stood leaning against the hauler, talking to his crew chief, a middle-aged, bearded man that I only knew as Jimbo. Despite the 26th place finish he had just taken, both men looked fairly calm and at ease, and Terrence was shrugging as he replied to a question Jimbo had just asked him. He looked up and smiled as he saw me approaching, then held up a finger, indicating that I should wait a minute, then went back to talking to Jimbo. I huffed a strand of my red hair out of my face in irritation. By the time Pollaski and I had gotten to the track, the cars were pulling out onto the circuit for the pace laps. I hadn’t seen my husband since before I left for Miami, and I was anxious to do so.

As I patiently waited for Jimbo to finish, I turned my attention to his car, the #38 Taco Bell Dodge that he’d been driving. While most of the car looked as new as it did to start the race (albeit a lot dirtier), the back end had been completely wrecked. Terrence had blown a tire early in the race, spun, and hit the wall hard. It had turned into a long afternoon, with him limping around the track to eventually finish forty-seven laps down.

A pair of strong arms grabbed me from behind, and I shrieked as I was lifted off my feet and spun around. My assailant released me, and I landed on my feet, whirling around to see my husband grinning back at me. Laughing, I threw myself into his arms, and we embraced and kissed.

“I missed you,” I murmured as he continued to squeeze me into him. He smelled like gasoline and sweat and dirt, and being trapped in a car with no air conditioning for nearly three hours, but I didn’t mind. I was just glad to be with him again.

“And I missed you too,” Terrence replied, before releasing me. He grinned at me. “How was Miami!”

“Beautiful. Hot. Sunny. Wished you were there,” I intoned.

My husband laughed in response. “I wish I was there too,” he replied. “Weather’s been a bitch up here. With the thunderstorms we had last night, I was afraid we wouldn’t even get the race in!”

I grimaced in concern as I heard the word ‘thunderstorms’. “How did Theresa do?”

Terrence shrugged. “Scared the hell out of her. Let her sleep in our bed with me. Can’t blame her really, there were some good boomers.” He looked around. “Where is she, anyways?”

“She, Pollaski, and Cassie went back to the RV,” I said, hoping that we would be heading that way soon ourselves. To my relief, Terrence slipped my hand in mine, and turned to walk away, but then stopped, turning back to say goodbye to his crew.

“Thanks, guys! I’m taking off, I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Wednesday?” I queried, as Terrence’s pit crew returned the farewell, and we began walking away from the hauler. “I thought you didn’t have to be in New Jersey until Friday evening!”

“Yeah, but then all the brass started taking a look at things, and NOW they all figure out that I’ve never competed in a road race before in my life. That’s now a concern for them.”

“Surely turning right can’t be THAT hard?” I asked as we slowly worked our way towards the exit.

“It’s more than that, hon. Different turn radiuses, elevation changes, anyways, long story short, I’ve spent half the weekend trying to convince them to not replace me with a road specialist. So they want me to spend a couple days at Mid-Ohio, and see if I can handle it.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

“It’s alright,” Terrence said, shrugging. “We all gotta do shit for our jobs, right? And besides, I think this could actually be fun. I don’t gotta be Michael Schumacher out there, just not crash the car at the first chicane I come to.”

Stil, I grimaced. May was turning out to be a hard month for us to spend time together. I was leaving for Boise the next day, and now I’d be coming back to find Terrence gone to Ohio. At least we’d all still be going to Canada for Conviction together.

“So, you have fun at Breaking Point? I caught it on TV. Fun stuff,” Terrence’s voice jarred me from my thoughts, and I looked back over at him. “Loved the brawl at the end.”

“That was nuts,” I confessed, breaking my hold on Terrence’s hand momentarily to circumvent a large crowd of people that had gathered near the winners car. “And yeah... I had fun there. For the most part.”

Terrence chuckled as he retook his hand in my own. “Still pissed at Snyder?”

“Not angry,” I corrected, sighing. “Just.. confused. I don’t know where she would even get the idea of accusing me of-”

“Because she knew you’d take offense to it, and offending you is a surefire way to get attention,” Terrence replied firmly. “Look hon, Rori Snyder suckerpunched you, slammed you headfirst into the ringpost, tried to viciously open a cut, and STILL lost within a couple minutes. The only reason she’s doing what she’s doing is because any credibility she’s had has been shot to shit, and she’s trying desperately to find some way to remain relevant.”

“Pollaski reckons she’s going to be released after Shane Sanders destroys her,” I sighed. “I hope not. She’s a good kid- she’s just... misguided.”

“She also ain’t your problem anymore,” my husband said, squeezing my hand. “Rori Snyder won’t get an Evolution title shot in a million years. You, on the other hand...”

“Am three matches away from one.” I finished, smiling slightly. We walked in silence for a while after that, out the gate and into the adjacent RV lot. The lot was just as chaotic as the garage area was, the entire fleet of motorhomes packing up, already a good percentage had either left, or were waiting in the long line of RV’s waiting to leave. Our own RV had already seen most of its neighbors depart. Terrence scoffed as we darted between a gap in two RVs in the traffic jam.

“Don’t see why everyone’s so damned anxious to pull out and wait in a line,” he muttered, as we walked towards our cinnamon-hued forty-five foot Newmar King Aire. “Might as well chill until the dust settles.”

I hummed and nodded my head in agreement as I swung open the door to our RV, and climbed up the stairs. “Hey Terr-Bear!” I smiled as my daughter ran towards me, and I scooped the giggling girl up into my arms, giving her a hug and a kiss.”

I gently set Theresa down, and she bounded back over to the couch, where she had been watching Looney Tunes. Cassie sat nearby, reading a book, while Pollaski had perched himself at the table, clicking away on his laptop. He grinned as he saw Terrence and I walk in, and waved me over. “Hey, Wendy! You might wanna take a look at this.”

Curious, I walked over to the table, sliding in next to Pollaski, who turned the laptop so that I could see. Terrence leaned over me as well, trying to get a look.

“This was taken last night after Breaking Point,” my manager explained, then hit play.

I watched intently as the short video played, with Ariel Shadows leaving the building, looking fairly agitated. Even though the interview had been censored (very, VERY censored) with bleeps, I still looked alarmingly over at my daughter, relieved that she wasn’t paying attention in the slightest. I quickly looked back at the computer.

"*BLEEP!* THEM ALL! I am taking my man back home. *BLEEP* FFW, *BLEEP* the crown, *BLEEP* Crystal, *BLEEP* Wendy, and *BLEEP* whoever's got a problem with it. I got more important *BLEEP* on my mind than some go*BLEEP*n butterfly belt."

As video ended, everything went silent, save for the murmur of Looney Tunes playing on the television. I looked at the computer screen, my mouth wide-open in astonishment, unable to find my voice.

Terrence found his for me. “What the hell was that all about?”

“I’m going to guess that Ariel’s in a bad mood. A REALLY bad mood,” Pollaski said blandly.

My eyes narrowed. “No kidding.” I muttered sarcastically. “You have any idea WHY?”

My manager shrugged. “Well, I’m gonna GUESS she probably wasn’t too happy about losing to Crystal Hilton. A heckuva match, but a tough loss for her. As for you, she’s probably pissed that it turned out you were the reason her boyfriend can’t talk anymore.”

“Oh,” I nodded, looking again over at the television. Suddenly, my head snapped back so quickly my neck popped. “Wait... WHAT?”

“Turns out when you jumped on him, you might have cut off the bloodflow to his brain, and as a result hurt the part that controls speech.” Pollaski replied matter-of-factly.

My mind raced back to that night in Dallas, a couple of months before I joined FFW. Ariel’s boyfriend, Madman Szalinski, and I were facing in a ladder match. We hadn’t exactly gotten a long before that, but the weeks building up to the contest had been as hate-filled as I could ever remember. The culmination had been when Szalinski had blindsided Terrence right in front of my daughter, and attacked him brutally enough to put him in the hospital.

The match itself had been no less vicious, with Szalinski using every single opportunity he had to hurt me. The worst was when he had tried to strangle me to death by placing the ladder over my throat and standing on it. Truth be told, only Ariel’s intervention had saved me, and after that, I was pretty ticked off, and after a few kicks, I had climbed up to the turnbuckle, and hit my Irish Death foot stomp.

The searing burn of wrathful umbrage had washed over me after I landed the move, and so I did it again, not even bothering with the turnbuckle, just jumping and landing feet first on. Over and over again, I had jumped on him, having no idea about the damage I was really causing.

Until now.

“Oh, God...” I breathed, horrified. I shot an accusing look over at my manager. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

Pollaski scoffed. “What am I, an RSS newsfeed? I thought you’d have known already. My bad.”

“For crying out loud,” I muttered, turning away from my manager, and throwing my husbands arm off of me. I practically ran across the RV, to where I had plugged my phone into its charger after dropping off my luggage before the race. I quickly picked up the Droid, flipping through my contact list to find Ariel.

And gasped, stunned as the phone was ripped out of my hands.

Angrily, I looked up, and saw Terrence casually tossing the Droid from one hand to another. I glared at my husband. “What are you doing? Give me back my-”

“Nope, sorry hon.” Terrence replied mildly. “Not gonna do it.”

I paused for a second, still confused as to why my husband would be teasing me, when it was clear that I was upset. Then I lunged trying to grab the phone as it passed from one hand to the other, but Terrence had anticipated it, tossing the phone higher this time, and deftly sidestepping out of the way. I stumbled, nearly bowling over Cassie in the process, as Terrence deftly caught the phone again.

By now, I could tell that Cassie and Theresa were paying attention, and I clenched my fists, my face burning in embarassment and anger. “Terrence Andrew Thompson,” I snarled, “Give me back my phone. NOW.”

Terrence paused. He looked amused by the stunt he was pulling, although there was a seriousness in his eyes. At that moment, I was too indignant to care. I’d wrestle him to the ground and use a nervehold if I had to...

“Are you gonna call Ariel?” Terrence asked, tossing the phone again, this time catching it in the same hand.

“Of course I’m going to call her!” I replied. “She’s my friend! I owe it to her to-”

“You don’t owe her anything,” Terrence replied mildly. “And she’s not your friend right now, she’s your enemy. Your opponent. The last thing you need to be doing is calling her up and apologizing because you hit a perfectly legal move on her boyfriend in a match. If you still feel that bad about it after Conviction, you can apologize then.”

“What? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! I’m not going to put a friendship on hold over some match! Now give me-”

“Really?” My husband arched an eyebrow, and while his face was calm, I could see a bit of hurt creeping into his eyes. “You were more than willing to put OUR MARRIAGE on hold last year when you had to face me. Twice.”

I stopped in my tracks, and opened my mouth, but no words came out. Terrence’s words were true enough. Twice I had been scheduled to compete against Terrence last year, and both times, I had left the house, my husband, my family to be on my own in the week leading up to the match. I wanted to win, and I didn’t think I could perform to the best of my ability if I continued to live with the man who was now my enemy. Still...

“And that was a huge mistake,” I finally responded, unable to keep a tremble out of my voice. Even though I had come home with Terrence the night after the events both times, I still couldn’t remember ever feeling more destitute and alone during those weeks. “I never should have...”

“Actually, considering your performances during those matches, I’d say it was probably the right thing to do,” Terrence responded, flipping the phone again and catching it. “If you wanted to win, you couldn’t view me as your husband. You had to view me as a foe. And you sure as hell outshone me the second time around.”

“Doesn’t mean I liked it,” I protested.

“Well, yeah. But facing our friends is one of the nasty little parts of this business nobody really likes to talk about,” Terrence said quietly, suddenly completely serious. “I didn’t like facing you either, but it’s something we had to do. But we didn’t take what happened out there personally, and we were in each other’s arms the night afterwards.”

I scoffed mildly, but after a few moments thought, I nodded. “You’re probably right. Ariel and I knew from the moment we became friends that there was always a chance we would end up against each other, and it’d be a dishonor to her if I let anything cause me to hold back when we faced. If there’s still hard feelings after all of this, we’ll settle it over lunch or something.”

Besides, I thought darkly, I had tried to be encouraging and friendly to Rori Snyder in the days leading up to our match, and I remembered all too vividly how THAT turned out. There was room for friends in professional wrestling, but not amongst your opponents. Sometimes, things just had to be put on hold. Anyways, after that profanity laden video, I wasn’t sure if Ariel even wanted to be my friend anymore, anyways. I guessed I’d have to wait and find out until after Conviction.

I looked over at Cassie and Theresa. Cassie looked concerned at the confrontation between my husband and I, although Theresa looked like she was completely and utterly lost by the conversation. A glance at Pollaski told me that my manager was finding the entire spectacle fairly amusing.

“So, promise not to call Ariel?” Terrence asked, a bit of a smirk returning to his face, as he once again began tossing the phone. “Or answer if she decides to call you?”

“Yeah, if you quit throwing my phone around,” I shot back in exasperation.

“Deal,” Terrence flipped the phone up, this time towards me, and I deftly caught it. I took the Droid in my hands, and looked at it, looking accusingly back up at Terrence a couple seconds later.

“You deleted her from my contact list!”

Terrence broke into another one of his insufferable grins. “Consider it an insurance policy against temptation. Ask her to give it back to you in Morse code as she’s tapping out to the Banshee. Anyways, traffics probably cleared up. We probably should get going. I’d like to get home before midnight if at all possible.”

As Terrence walked by me, heading up to the RV’s cockpit to get us started, I watched him, feeling a mixture of admiration and exasperation. I knew that I was the idealist between the two of us, while Terrence always took a much more realistic approach to life. It led to a lot of arguing between the two of us, to the point that some observers actually thought our marriage was in a crisis. But those arguments never got out of hand, they never resulted in a jeopardization of our relationship. They simply gave both of us perspective. Maybe that’s why we had always been so successful as a tag team- reality probably lay right in the middle between our viewpoints.

I was in a combat sport, and in a combat sport, one didn’t succeed by altruism. Whatever I felt about someone, once I got in that ring, my job was simple- do what ever I could (within the rules, of course!) to bring them down and defeat them, whether they were male or female, large or small, friend or foe. Maybe after five years in the business, it should come instinctually, but sometimes, it didn’t hurt to be reminded by Terrence’s pragmatism that I had a job to do, and it wasn’t making friends.

I slipped my phone back into my pocket, and slowly walked up to the copilots seat, just to the right and behind Terrence’s drivers seat as he finished the final preparations for our departure. No, I wouldn’t be calling Ariel. The next time I’d be interacting with her wouldn’t be over a phone, or by text message, or a cup of coffee. It would be in the ring, as opponents, until the final bell had rung.

It couldn’t be any other way.

EPISODE 99: Epic Pollaski

The following is a column that was posted on whirlybirdz.com

Hey Kids!

You know, if there is one word that has ever been ruined by the internet, it’s the word ‘epic’. Originally, the word was used to defined something of enormous magnitude, a grand scale that dwarfed mankind’s usual perception of the norm. But now, thanks to bloggers and bulletin board posters who toss the word out every other freakin’ post, the concept of ‘epic’ has been watered-down significantly. Just one of the casualties of the technological revolution, I guess.

As such, I dont really like to use the word. I’m not one for cliches, and lets face it, ninety-five percent of the time, tossing that word out there just makes you look like one of the losers who spend their entire lives on 4chan. You know, the types who’s ultimate goal in life is to find an exception to Rule 34. Or prove it. I don’t fuckin’ know.

But once in a rare while, the term actually becomes appropriate. Something so big, so powerful, so unbelievable, that there really is no other term to describe it. Something, that can actually, honest-to-God, be described as EPIC.

And kids, the ending of Shatterpoint 16 was one of those.

Now before we go any further, let me make something clear. When I squashed Kristi Hughes flatter than she was before her obvious enhancement surgery, I didn’t actually really mean to hurt her. Send a message? Yeah. Knock the wind out of her? Definitely. Break three ribs and collapse a lung? Not really.

Ah, couldn’t have happened to a nicer girl, right?

So Kristi Hughes, if you’re able to read this, I’m very very sorry, and I hope you make a quick, and relatively painless recovery, to return to the side of your man soon.

But in all fairness, you did attack me first. And, quite frankly, you’ve really had something like this coming to you for a while.

Besides, just how injured are you really?

You see, it was mentioned recently that Hughes was holed up in the ICU of the Mayo Clinic. Now, admittedly, the Mayo Clinic is one of the finest hospitals in the world, and I could be lucky to get such treatment should I ever have need of it. But there’s just one little catch here. Mayo Clinic has facilities in the cities of Rochester, Minnesota; Scottsdale, Arizona; and Jacksonville, Florida. I turned Kristi into pate in Seattle, Washington.

Now maybe its just me, but it seems that transporting someone with three broken ribs and a collapsed lung a couple thousand miles to another ICU would be a rather unnecessary and costly risk, especially considering that Harborview Medical Center in Seattle, just a mile or so from Key Arena, would be more than adequate to treat Kristi’s injuries.

So what’s going on? I don’t know. Maybe they’re faking it, trying to make me feel bad for what I’ve done. Maybe they’re planning some sort of rouse. Maybe they really did risk Kristi Hughes life to fly her to Minnesota. Maybe Kevin thinks that all hospitals in America are run by the Mayo Clinic. I don’t fuckin’ know.

What I do know, is that as a result of all this, I now face Kevin Flynn at the next Shatterpoint I actually tried to get out of the match, but Wendy’s insisting that I compete. Something about being held accountable for my actions, or some bullshit like that. She might act all indignant and shit, but I know she loved every second of it.

Especially the part where both Kevin and Kristi had little drops of water leaking out of their eyes. Yeah, Kevin was chemically aided, and I’d probably tear up too if I just jumped on myself, but the fact is, yours truly, a mere wrestling manager, made Kevin Flynn and Kristi Hughes cry on national television. And after all that shit they talked about my client, too.

So you know what? To hell with it. I’ll suit up, walk down to the ring, and fight Kevin Flynn. Flynn probably thinks he’s getting the easiest win on the planet. All he’s gotta do is show up, kick yours truly’s ass, and revenge will be his.

Here’s the catch: I’m hardly as helpless as Kevin thinks I am. There’s some serious power underneath all this blubber, and I just need one good punch ot the jaw and Kevin’s lying on the mat, cold. Or maybe a good kick to the gut, and it’s all ready for the Lycan Drop. It may not be much of a chance, but I have one, and I fully intend to make Kevin’s day as miserable as possible.

It may not be much of one, but I got a chance, and I’m not going to back down. And let’s think for a second... what happens if I win? What happens if I crack one right into Kevin Flynn’s jaw, and he drops for the three count? Can you imagine the horrors then? Of the number one contender losing a match to a freaking MANAGER? How could the Powers that be survived when their top guy, the guy that’s going to bring them the world championship, can’t even beat me?

So you know what, Flynn? Bring it on. Step in the ring with the Pollaskinator, and show me exactly what you got. The way I see it, I’m playing with house money? Losing might hurt a bit, but all the world knows is that you can beat up a manager. And if I win? Well, your career is going to drop faster than Kristi’s panties in a Motel 6.

Just keep in mind, when my fist shatters your face, and you’re left lying in a broken little heap, that had you not tried to attack me last week, none of this would have happened.

Polla the fuck out. Bitch.

EPISODE 98: Lecture

Friday May 6, 2011
The RV- Main Cabin
Greenville, South Carolina
9:02 AM Local Time

“Rori Snyder, if that was you going all in, you picked the worst hand in the world to do it with.”

[The scene opens in the WhirlyBirdz RV, with Wendy sitting on the couch. As usual, her flame-red hair has been tied back into a ponytail, and she is wearing a pale pink buttoned blouse as she faces the camera. One noticable newer ‘feature’, is the small bandaid stuck to Wendy’s forehead. Wendy is also looking farily annoyed, which as anyone from Velocity can attest, is due to in part to that very same bandage.]

“Maybe this is unnecessary. Maybe I should just put this all behind me, and look forward to Conviction. Maybe I should just be happy with the fact that despite Rori slamming me face first into the ringpost, and doing everything she could in her power to spill my blood all over that arena floor, I still managed to kick her down, and make her tap out to the Banshee.”

[Wendy pauses for a second, and then shakes her head]

“But I can’t let it go. I’ve ran the gamut of emotions throughout my career. I’ve felt joy, sorrow, fear, anger, you name it. But I can’t remember a time when I’ve been as disappointed in someone as I am with Rori Snyder right now. You see, when I shot my promo last week during the buildup to our contest, I meant what I said. I honestly believed that Rori Snyder was an outstanding young lady, a up-and-comer that was only a matter of time before she rose to prominence. I believed she did things the right way, and had the heart and drive to succeed in this business. Now, a little more than twelve hours removed from our match?”

[Another sad shake of the head.]

“I’m not so sure.”

[A deep breath]

“Since Velocity went off the air, I’ve seen several people marvel about how ‘Rori Snyder grew a spine’. Really? What show were they watching? Where’s the spine in diving out of the ring the moment the opening bell rings? Where’s the spine in shoving me headfirst into the ringpost? Where’s the spine in slapping Shane Sanders in the face, using me as a human shield, and running as far and fast away as her legs could carry her?”

[Wendy looks directly into the camera, a fire dancing behind her emerald eyes.]

“Rori, if you wanted to show the world your ‘spine’, all you had to do was walk down to that ring, and given me everything you had without resorting to cheap tricks. I don’t think the world expected you to beat me. I don’t think the world expects you to beat Shane. Merely returning, especiailly after the horrible thing that happened to you, was showing all the guts on the planet. And if you could have pulled off one of those wins, and done it the right way, your stock would have risen more quickly than you could have dreamed.”

[Wendy sighs, and closes her eyes for just a second]

“But something funny happened on the way to the arena. Somehow you got it in your mind that the course of action you needed was to disrespect me, disrespect the fans, disrespect Shane... and disappoint so many others. Do you think that’s what Scarlett wants of you, Rori? Or even your cousin?”

[Wendy snorts, and shakes her head]

“Because I didn’t see the never-say-die fighter I believed you were. I didn’t see the talented young rookie people expected big things of. I saw a child. A frightened child who felt in over her head, and was looking for the easy way out. You chose that path, and I still managed to slam the door in your face.”

[Wendy laughs quietly, soft and bitter]

“What the heck did you expect? Did you honestly believe that a first-blood match against Raven Wicked was the toughest this got? Did you think Scarlett Kincaid would be next to you to hold your hand against any veteran that walked down that ramp? I can’t fault fear, Rori. I’ve gone to the ring more times than I can count scared out of my mind. But you can’t let your fear rule you. What truly defines us as the type of person we are is how we act under pressure. And on Thursday Night, you failed. Miserably.”

[Wendy snorts, and looks away]

“And you’re so fortunate, Rori, that I’m not the vindictive type. Do you realize what ninety-five percent of the people in this industry would do to you for something like that? Shane Sanders has been foaming at the mouth to rip you to shreds, and you just made her want to do it worse. I was just happy to beat you. Or maybe you knew that going in. Maybe you figured you could take advantage of me, because you didn’t think there would be consequences. You’re dead wrong.’

[Wendy looks back at the camera, taking another deep breath]

“Because you remember what I said about respect, Rori? How its the most precious commodity to be had in all of wrestling? Well, Respect is a lot like other resources- it can take YEARS to develop, and accumulate. But handle them with carelessness and mismanagement, and those resources can vanish almost overnight. One night, one childish outburst, and look at what has happened. People are you looking at you, Rori, but it’s not with eyes of respect. This is more akin to people watching a four-year old kicking and screaming in the candy aisle because they couldn’t have any M&M’s.”

[Not that Wendy has ANY experience with four year olds throwing tantrums...]

“It’s not all lost, though. It’s going to take time, a lot of effort, and, most painful of all, a touch of humility, but you can save face here. You can start by apologizing to me, to the fans, and yes, to Shane as well. And then you can go to Conviction, walk down to that ring, and wrestle your butt off in the cleanest, most hard fought match, you can. If you can do that, Rori, win or lose, you’re going to gain *some* respect back.”

[Wendy pauses, and smiles slightly, her thusfar stern voice softening somewhat]

“I don’t want your head on a platter. I just want answers, and for you to grow up and start living up to your potential. Like most of FFW, I’m going to be in Miami on the fourteenth. My best friend Ariel is taking on one of my partners in the first leg of the Chase for the Crown, and you can bet that I’m VERY interested in observing that match firsthand. But I strongly recommend that you get on expedia, and figure out a way to get from Alaska to Florida yourself, and be at that arena next Saturday.”

[The smile vanishes, and Wendy looks directly into the camera one last time, her voice growing stern]

“Because Lorelai Snyder... you have got some explaining to do.”

[Fade]

EPISODE 97: Backseat Driver

Tuesday May 4, 2011
The RV- Main Cabin
Interstate 75 Near Caryville, Tennessee
11:59 AM Local Time

“You’re swaying back and forth, Dan! Keep it steady!”

I looked up from my Droid, and grimaced at my husband’s wrods. Personally, I couldn’t feel any side to side movement coming from the RV as we drove down Interstate 75 towards Knoxville- the ride seemed smooth- at least as smooth as a forty-five foot RV barrelling down the highway ever got. My manager seemed to think so too, because while I couldn’t hear his muttered reply verbatim, there definitely seemed to be a level of resentment to it.

Then again, resentment had become my manager’s theme over the past couple of days. He had barely spoken to me, even curtailing his usual flow of chatter during my workout on Monday. Even when he did speak, it was with curt responses. I was actually surprised he had agreed to accompany us to South Carolina at all. Although I had no intention of letting Pollaski into the Bi-Lo Center Thursday Night, I still thought he had every right to be at least nearby watching, if anything.

Unfortunately, my idea that Pollaski ‘earn his keep’ by driving the RV at least part of the way was backfiring horribly.

“You’re accelerating too hard! You’ll screw up the transmission!” Terrence barked again,

“I’M IN CRUISE CONTROL!”

“Terry, calm down,” I finally said, eyeing my husband. “Isn’t the whole reason we’re having him drive for a while so you don’t spend so much time behind the wheel? So you can sit back and relax?”

“I am relaxed!” my husband protested. “Well, at least I would be if Shakeyhands McSwerverton up there knew how to drive. I thought he passed his license test.”

“He’s doing fine, Terry,” I said, then looked down at my phone, where I was playing a game of chess against Terrence. I grinned evilly. “Gotcha!” I slid my rook across the board, and looked up triumphantly at Terrence. “Checkmate!’

Terrence looked at his own phone for several seconds, looking around the board, trying to find a way out. Finally, he shook his head, and flipped his phone off. “Dammit. I hate this game.”

“Terry, language” I admonished gently, beckoning to my daughter, curled up into a ball next to me on the RV’s couch, sleeping. She looked like a veritable angel. On the other couch lay Cassie, lying on her side, also taking a nap. I stifled a yawn myself. Maybe I should take a nap too.

That yawn turned into another eyeroll as my husband again turned his head towards the RV cockpit in alarm. “You’re drifting into the other lane! I can feel it.”

“I’m in the right lane! I’ve been in the right lane for the last thirty miles, and I’ll probably be in the right lane for another thirty! But if something comes up, and I have to change lanes, I’ll be sure to announce it over the intercom system so you don’t have a heart attack!”

“Wait..” I looked over at my glowering husband. “We have an intercom system?”

“No,” Terrence grunted.

I sat quietly for a few minutes. His jaw clenched, my husband had turned back to his phone, and, by the sound of it, was playing Angry Birds. I looked up towards the front of the RV. Maybe this was as good a time as any to talk...

I rose from the couch, and pushed my way forward, my hands out wide to steady my balance. Finally, I arrived at the front, and threw myself into the copilots seat. “How’s it going?” I asked Pollaski quietly.

“Wish Backseat Driving Miss Daisy back there would quit yapping, but other than that, can’t complain.” Pollaski grunted.

I smiled softly, but only for a second. “We need to talk,” I said, bluntly.

“We do?”

I sighed. I should have expected Pollaski to be somewhat uncooperative, but it was still irritating. “You don’t seem like you’re happy with me.”

“Oh, I’m happy. Haven’t you heard the news? Everyone’s happy! I got to keep my job, you keep your angelic reputation, and the kids on Twitter got the knowledge that the big evil fat guy got put in his place. Sunshine and rainbows all around!”

I winced at the sarcastic barb, and looked out the window. The view was beautiful- the Tennessee Appalachians were in a fine springtime splendor today. It’s a shame I wasn’t feeling like that inside at the current moment.

“I did what I felt was best...”

“No, you did what you felt was best for YOU. You threw me under the bus, jeopardized all that we had, because of a couple of tweets and a column. You’re so goddamned obsessed with looking like the ‘good girl’ all the time, you were willing to sacrifice ME on the altar, just so you could look virtuous for another week. What kind of ‘good person’ sacrifices their friends for popular support?”

I looked out the window, stunned. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, and I took a deep breath to steady myself. “That... that’s not true.”

“Oh, it’s not? I didn’t Tweet, but you don’t think I wasn’t paying attention? The moment you saw Rori Snyder was around, you burst on the feed practically singing ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead!’. So yeah, I’m sorry if I’m a bit irritated by you thinking what your OPPONENTS think of you matters more than me.”

“That’s not why I...”

“Really?” Pollaski barked. “Then why-”

“Because what you said hurt me too!”

There was a pause. Pollaski’s clenched grip on the steering wheel relaxed just a bit, and he looked over at me. “How? I’ve said nothing but praise for you...”

“Dan, you have yet to go through the absolute devastation that comes with losing a parent. Both your mom and your dad are alive and well in Omaha, and I pray to God they remain so for a very long time. But my mother’s dead, and my father might as well be. Terrence’s parents are dead. Rori’s parents are dead. Robbyn’s parents are dead. All of them prematurely, and violently.”

The tears were now leaking out, and I tried wiping them away. “What you said was callous, and cold, and was an insult to any child who has ever gone through the horrors of losing one of the ones that raised them. Not just Rori. Not just Robbyn. EVERYONE. And that’s a lot of people.”

Pollaski said nothing, just stared straight ahead, both hands gripped on the steering wheel. I continued “And worse, you USED my mother’s death, and how I handled myself afterwards, to justify yourself! That’s sick Dan, and it spit on every ounce of self-control I mustered to keep from completely breaking down at that point in my life. You trivialized one of the worst moments of my life.”

There was a long period of silence. Finally, Pollaski spoke, his voice raspy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.”

“And I’m sorry I turned what should have been a private matter between you and I into a dog and pony show,” I replied, wiping my eyes again. “It’s just... I was pretty upset.”

There was another pause. “So now what?”

I thought for a second, then sighed. “Well, I still can’t have you at Velocity. I think having you out there is just going to be too much. But I love having you in my corner. You stop interference, you give great advice, and I think you’re kinda good luck.”

Pollaski shrugged, breaking into a small smile. “If you let me, I could bring even more ‘good luck’.

I snorted, and shot him a stern look. “No, you still can’t interfere.”

“Damn,” came the good natured response. “I really wouldn’t mind cracking Rori over the head with a mini-bat. That girl is an idiot.”

“She’s not an idiot, Dan,” I said, rolling my eyes. “She’s just a twenty-year old kid. She’s just a little immature. But she has a good heart, and a lot of talent, from the looks of things. I did some pretty stupid things at that age too...”

“Like take up wrestling in the first place?” Pollaski snorted with a laugh, and turned to shoot me a wink. He sobered for a second. “Maybe, but you were never dumb enough to get married to a guy after two weeks.”

I paused, and nodded slightly. “Well, it probably was rushed. But really, is it our place to say? And I was thinking about it... you know, Rori’s not the first person to marry someone that no one else thought was right for her.”

“If you’re talking about yourself, its apples and oranges here. Everyone but your parents knew that you and Terrence were right for each other. And your parents hated him because he was Protestant, of English decent, and from a blue-collar family. He-”

I yelped as the RV shook violently, and Pollaski was cut off, gripping the steering wheel for dear life. Just as quickly, it passed, although Terrence’s reaction didn’t.

“What the hell are you doing, Pollaski? Going off road?”

“It was a pothole!” Pollaski and I chorused in a sing-song voice.

Pollaski sighed. “Look, the reasons may escape me at the moment, but Terrence is a good guy, and he loves you very much. He’s rubbed some people the wrong way over the years, but hey, who hasn’t?”

“Yeah, and Casey’s rubbed a lot of people the wrong way too...” I mused. “I’m one of them...”

“Yeah, I noticed that. And you ever notice how once Casey’s pissed someone off, Rori is so quick to jump to his side, and say that he’s a misunderstood sweetheart?”

I nodded. “I’ll point back to the young and immature comment I made earlier...”

Pollasi snorted. “That. Or she’s terrified of what would happen if she ever disagreed with him in public.”

There was another long period of silence, and I looked over at my manager nervously. “You have no proof. And that’s way too serious an accusation to ever throw around.”

“I dunno...” Pollaski chuckled. “I could light that fuse on Twitter one night, and enjoy the fireworks...”

“Dan...” I growled in exasperation.

“Hey, Pollaski!” Terrence called from the back. “I’m hungry! Pull us off first place, and let’s have lunch!”

I smiled sympathetically. “Sorry, looks like you’re getting kicked off.”

Pollaski laughed. “Fine by me. If he wants to drive, I’ll sit right in that chair and sideseat HIS ass all the way to Greenville. See, how he likes it.” Dan then looked up, surveying a sign detailing the coming interchange. “Applebees isn’t on the list, is it?”

I shook my head and smiled. “No. Applebee’s is sitdown. We only can’t go into other fast-food restaurants besides Taco Bell.” I turned around. “Terrence, if Applebees is okay with you, better wake Theresa and Cassie up. We’re pulling off.”

I sighed in content as Pollaski maneuvered the RV off the interchange, and began to slow down. The schism that had developed between my manager and I likely wasn’t fully healed- those took time, but at least we were on speaking terms again. It felt good to be getting along again, and it was one less distraction out of the way before my match with Rori. Despite what I had said the other day, I was worried about the match- it had ‘trap door’ written all over it. I *should* be winning, but I’d been upset before, and likely would again.

Ah well, so long as I just went out there, and did what I knew best, I’d be okay.

The RV lurched to a final stop, and Pollaski killed the engine. Stretching lazily, the five of us all got up from our seats. Theresa came running up to me, and I took her hand in mine. “Alright, shall we go?”

Cassie, freshly awake from her own nap, nodded, then yawned. “Yeah, I’m starving. By the way, did you guys do something to the RV? That was the smoothest ride I remember in a long time.”

Pollaski and I looked at each other, then we both looked at Terrence, who had the exact same facial expression he had the time someone low-blowed him with a tire iron. Suddenly, I began to sense what a villager in Pompeii might have felt just before Vesuvius erupted...

“Um... maybe... maybe we oughta go and get a table...” I stammered, taking my daughter’s hand, and backing towards the RV’s exit.

“Lead on...” Pollaski muttered, giving me a slight nudge of urgency.

Even Cassie was getting the impression that she had just said a very bad thing, and she was backing away from Terrence as well. “Um... wait up?”

As one, the four of us broke, and beelined out the RV’s door, evacuating the premises.