Post by jeff on Jan 20, 2022 23:52:41 GMT
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I knew becoming top dog of this promotion was going to be easy but come on. At least make it a LITTLE challenging.
(Maxwell Jacob Friedman sits at the head of his dining room table with a glass of wine in front of him. Wardlow stands nearby, staring ahead with cold, darkened eyes. Quite the contrast to MJF's, which are light and almost playful.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I mean… I appreciate the effort Noelle Foley's Dad is going through to make this all seem legitimate and not fixed but come on. Between you and me… this one's in the bag, baby!
(MJF happily takes the wine glass and drinks.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I really thought WLCW would be different. I thought there'd be some kind of long, drawn out tournament that took forever. Or maybe they'd let us compete for a while before suddenly Noelle Foley's Dad shows up and says "surprise! We're having a championship match at the big time absurdly named pay-per-view and management has decided such and such are the most deserving!" Of course I'd be one of those names -- but a battle royal? Really, guys? Haven't we had enough shitty battle royals and over the top rope challenges to last us for a lifetime? And for that matter, why can't we just call it what it is? We're having a Royal Rumble.
(MJF takes another drink.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Though I guess I can give Noelle Foley's Dad a little bit of credit -- he didn't just rip off old Vinny Mac, he ripped off TK, too! Because at least TK realized that just straight up taking the Royal Rumble and calling it anything but that would be lame, so he added this twist where the final two competitors have a singles match later on and the man who wins that match -- which will be me, for those curious at home -- gets to raise his hand and take home the spoils. Just put my name on the belt and save yourself the time, Foley. Pour me some more.
(MJF looks over to Wardlow, who has to walk over to grab the bottle that's already right next to MJF. He pours until MJF raises a hand to him.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Everyone watching this should be familiar with me already. Let's face it -- I was the most popular guy over on TNT and even the sickos still watching USA Network's three-hour shitshows know that I was the straw stirring the drink for the Khan family. But it was brought to my attention recently that WLCW has something of a… unique roster. And by "unique" I mean there's a lot of weird little Asian girls who didn't seem to understand what I meant when I asked if any of them offered happy endings when I saw them at Vengeance. There's also a bunch of weirdos whom I may or may not ever actually recognize as human beings so when you combine all of that, it makes sense that WLCW might have new fans. New fans who haven't been able to witness Maxwell Jacob Friedman and for those people, I have only this to say to you -- I'm sorry.
(MJF smirks.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I'm sorry that you've gone this long not seeing me in action. I'm sorry that once you see me, every other superstar in this business will come across as lesser. Everyone you thought was gifted on the microphone will be exposed. Everyone you thought could perform in the ring will be exposed. Every superstar you watched and thought "wow, they're incredible" will now have you questioning why you even liked them in the first place. There is nobody -- NOBODY -- on this roster that can match me. This battle royal is only being held to figure out who's going to join me in the finals at… Ascension.
(MJF looks disgusted as he turns to Wardlow.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: See? What did I tell you about the absurdly named pay-per-views?
(Wardlow nods.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: This Saturday night is going to be a real treat for some of you. It's the first episode of Storm and I'm sure some of you will think that's reason to celebrate but the real reason Storm's going to be special is because it's the first time MJF steps inside a WLCW ring -- wait, we're not doing that bullshit six-sided ring gimmick, are we?
(MJF looks over to Wardlow, who shakes his head.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Thank God. Thank God… that's exactly what you should all be saying once you see me enter that battle royal because you'll know that something exciting's about to happen. You'll forget about the shitty double axe handles and the deal where guys just sit there and try to push someone over the top rope for three and a half minutes without delivering any kind of punishment or creating any kind of leverage. You'll hear my music and you'll be drawn into my presence. You'll see me walk down to the ring with confidence. You'll watch as I enter the ring and systematically eliminate the competition one by one in the manner that I see fit. And I'm sure whoever is lucky enough to finish the match alongside me will try to stare me down and the producer will demand a zoomed in camera shot of the two of us with the Ascension logo in the background while Mauro and McAfee try to hype up our upcoming match. But I'm going to tell you right now none of that will happen. As soon as the last man has been eliminated, I will leave the ring as quickly as possible because by that point I'll already have been in Utah far longer than the recommended time of zero seconds. I'll let the lucky "winner" have their fifteen seconds of fame because at Ascension, there will be nothing for them to celebrate.
(MJF takes another drink.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Why so confident, you might ask? It's written in the stars, guys. And I'm not talking about that shitty WrestleMania song from ten years ago. Noelle Foley's Dad -- tell me you want me to compete for the first WLCW Heavyweight Championship without telling me you want me to compete for the first WLCW Heavyweight Championship. Guy put the show in Salt Lake City. Why? No earthly idea. Nothing important has ever happened in Utah. Google it. But I got to thinking… Salt Lake City. Salt Lake City. Salt Lake City. Then it hit me -- I'm Salt of the fucking Earth, baby! You people have been led to believe there are the haves and the have nots. That's not true. There are the haves and the have nots AND Salt of the Earth. We're apex predators. We're the elite of the elite. We leave craters in the earth with every step we take and we're unfamiliar with terms like "loan" or "mortgage." I wouldn't expect anyone watching this to understand and that's okay. You don't have to understand. You just have to be witnesses.
(MJF smirks.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Not only is this event in Salt Lake City, but the goddamn match should be NAMED after me! Hmm, let's see… battle royal where the final two square off in a singles match for a prize? Where does that sound familiar? Hmm… hmm…
(MJF starts to comically scratch his head and furrow his eyebrows as he ponders it.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Hmm… oh, yeah, that's right! I've already won that match THREE! FUCKING! TIMES!
(MJF reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a ring.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Dynamite Diamond ring. Three times. Been there done that. And you think things might be different this time because… why? Dolph Ziggler's brother, Full Sail's tallest job boy and The Guy Who Did a Librarian Gimmick are involved? No, wait, that's not it. Maybe we've traveled back in time to 1999 when Booker T wasn't a parody of himself? No, that's impossible. Give me a break. I could throw a rock inside a wrestling convention and find more competition than what we've got going on in this battle royal. And that's ironic considering that's probably how we booked half the guys in this match. Kevin Nash? Lance Storm? Are Duke "The Dumpster" Droese and Glacier invited, too? Maybe I should be spending my time on guys who have already had something to say. Like Matt Sydal. Though I'm not sure he's capable of saying anything with John Cena's balls in his mouth. I could comment on Malakai Black but to be honest, all these "mysterious" guys are all the same. They speak in riddles and think they're extremely perceptive but when they get done, we all ask our friends "who brought this guy to the party?" Good lord. And I haven't even mentioned Scott Steiner's kid with the dumb name, Cody's photoshopped picture with Martin Luther King, Eddie Kingston's gut, Brock's dick sword tattoo, Jimmy Uso's alcoholism --
(The video cuts. We see MJF and Wardlow watching the abrupt ending on YouTube.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: What the hell was that?
WARDLOW: They're really strict about time limits, man.
(Maxwell Jacob Friedman sits at the head of his dining room table with a glass of wine in front of him. Wardlow stands nearby, staring ahead with cold, darkened eyes. Quite the contrast to MJF's, which are light and almost playful.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I mean… I appreciate the effort Noelle Foley's Dad is going through to make this all seem legitimate and not fixed but come on. Between you and me… this one's in the bag, baby!
(MJF happily takes the wine glass and drinks.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I really thought WLCW would be different. I thought there'd be some kind of long, drawn out tournament that took forever. Or maybe they'd let us compete for a while before suddenly Noelle Foley's Dad shows up and says "surprise! We're having a championship match at the big time absurdly named pay-per-view and management has decided such and such are the most deserving!" Of course I'd be one of those names -- but a battle royal? Really, guys? Haven't we had enough shitty battle royals and over the top rope challenges to last us for a lifetime? And for that matter, why can't we just call it what it is? We're having a Royal Rumble.
(MJF takes another drink.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Though I guess I can give Noelle Foley's Dad a little bit of credit -- he didn't just rip off old Vinny Mac, he ripped off TK, too! Because at least TK realized that just straight up taking the Royal Rumble and calling it anything but that would be lame, so he added this twist where the final two competitors have a singles match later on and the man who wins that match -- which will be me, for those curious at home -- gets to raise his hand and take home the spoils. Just put my name on the belt and save yourself the time, Foley. Pour me some more.
(MJF looks over to Wardlow, who has to walk over to grab the bottle that's already right next to MJF. He pours until MJF raises a hand to him.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Everyone watching this should be familiar with me already. Let's face it -- I was the most popular guy over on TNT and even the sickos still watching USA Network's three-hour shitshows know that I was the straw stirring the drink for the Khan family. But it was brought to my attention recently that WLCW has something of a… unique roster. And by "unique" I mean there's a lot of weird little Asian girls who didn't seem to understand what I meant when I asked if any of them offered happy endings when I saw them at Vengeance. There's also a bunch of weirdos whom I may or may not ever actually recognize as human beings so when you combine all of that, it makes sense that WLCW might have new fans. New fans who haven't been able to witness Maxwell Jacob Friedman and for those people, I have only this to say to you -- I'm sorry.
(MJF smirks.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I'm sorry that you've gone this long not seeing me in action. I'm sorry that once you see me, every other superstar in this business will come across as lesser. Everyone you thought was gifted on the microphone will be exposed. Everyone you thought could perform in the ring will be exposed. Every superstar you watched and thought "wow, they're incredible" will now have you questioning why you even liked them in the first place. There is nobody -- NOBODY -- on this roster that can match me. This battle royal is only being held to figure out who's going to join me in the finals at… Ascension.
(MJF looks disgusted as he turns to Wardlow.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: See? What did I tell you about the absurdly named pay-per-views?
(Wardlow nods.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: This Saturday night is going to be a real treat for some of you. It's the first episode of Storm and I'm sure some of you will think that's reason to celebrate but the real reason Storm's going to be special is because it's the first time MJF steps inside a WLCW ring -- wait, we're not doing that bullshit six-sided ring gimmick, are we?
(MJF looks over to Wardlow, who shakes his head.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Thank God. Thank God… that's exactly what you should all be saying once you see me enter that battle royal because you'll know that something exciting's about to happen. You'll forget about the shitty double axe handles and the deal where guys just sit there and try to push someone over the top rope for three and a half minutes without delivering any kind of punishment or creating any kind of leverage. You'll hear my music and you'll be drawn into my presence. You'll see me walk down to the ring with confidence. You'll watch as I enter the ring and systematically eliminate the competition one by one in the manner that I see fit. And I'm sure whoever is lucky enough to finish the match alongside me will try to stare me down and the producer will demand a zoomed in camera shot of the two of us with the Ascension logo in the background while Mauro and McAfee try to hype up our upcoming match. But I'm going to tell you right now none of that will happen. As soon as the last man has been eliminated, I will leave the ring as quickly as possible because by that point I'll already have been in Utah far longer than the recommended time of zero seconds. I'll let the lucky "winner" have their fifteen seconds of fame because at Ascension, there will be nothing for them to celebrate.
(MJF takes another drink.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Why so confident, you might ask? It's written in the stars, guys. And I'm not talking about that shitty WrestleMania song from ten years ago. Noelle Foley's Dad -- tell me you want me to compete for the first WLCW Heavyweight Championship without telling me you want me to compete for the first WLCW Heavyweight Championship. Guy put the show in Salt Lake City. Why? No earthly idea. Nothing important has ever happened in Utah. Google it. But I got to thinking… Salt Lake City. Salt Lake City. Salt Lake City. Then it hit me -- I'm Salt of the fucking Earth, baby! You people have been led to believe there are the haves and the have nots. That's not true. There are the haves and the have nots AND Salt of the Earth. We're apex predators. We're the elite of the elite. We leave craters in the earth with every step we take and we're unfamiliar with terms like "loan" or "mortgage." I wouldn't expect anyone watching this to understand and that's okay. You don't have to understand. You just have to be witnesses.
(MJF smirks.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Not only is this event in Salt Lake City, but the goddamn match should be NAMED after me! Hmm, let's see… battle royal where the final two square off in a singles match for a prize? Where does that sound familiar? Hmm… hmm…
(MJF starts to comically scratch his head and furrow his eyebrows as he ponders it.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Hmm… oh, yeah, that's right! I've already won that match THREE! FUCKING! TIMES!
(MJF reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a ring.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Dynamite Diamond ring. Three times. Been there done that. And you think things might be different this time because… why? Dolph Ziggler's brother, Full Sail's tallest job boy and The Guy Who Did a Librarian Gimmick are involved? No, wait, that's not it. Maybe we've traveled back in time to 1999 when Booker T wasn't a parody of himself? No, that's impossible. Give me a break. I could throw a rock inside a wrestling convention and find more competition than what we've got going on in this battle royal. And that's ironic considering that's probably how we booked half the guys in this match. Kevin Nash? Lance Storm? Are Duke "The Dumpster" Droese and Glacier invited, too? Maybe I should be spending my time on guys who have already had something to say. Like Matt Sydal. Though I'm not sure he's capable of saying anything with John Cena's balls in his mouth. I could comment on Malakai Black but to be honest, all these "mysterious" guys are all the same. They speak in riddles and think they're extremely perceptive but when they get done, we all ask our friends "who brought this guy to the party?" Good lord. And I haven't even mentioned Scott Steiner's kid with the dumb name, Cody's photoshopped picture with Martin Luther King, Eddie Kingston's gut, Brock's dick sword tattoo, Jimmy Uso's alcoholism --
(The video cuts. We see MJF and Wardlow watching the abrupt ending on YouTube.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: What the hell was that?
WARDLOW: They're really strict about time limits, man.