Post by jeff on Feb 1, 2022 1:06:21 GMT
Saturday, 10:02 p.m.
January 22, 2022
Vivint Arena
Salt Lake City, Utah
(MJF is seething as he rips open the door to his locker room. Wardlow has an ice pack on his shoulder.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: DID YOU SEE THAT?! DID YOU SEE WHAT THEY DID TO ME?!
(Wardlow's calmness is a direct contrast to MJF's rage.)
WARDLOW: No. What happened?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: THAT LITTLE BITCH AUBREY EDWARDS! SHE… SHE… SHE COST ME THE WLCW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! SHE SCREWED ME! SHE'S GOING TO PAY! MARK MY WORDS! THIS ISN'T OVER YET! WHERE'S FOLEY?!
(MJF starts shouting as he storms out towards the hallway.)
WARDLOW: Well, other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?
(Wardlow laughs to himself.)
Tuesday, 8:28 a.m.
January 25, 2022
The Friedman Estate
Plainview, New York
(MJF is relaxing in a hot tub. A beautiful young Asian girl hands him a mimosa.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: My offer for you to join me is still on the table, sweetheart.
(She blushes and shakes her head as she walks away.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: See, why couldn't those girls at Vengeance be a little more like… uh…
WARDLOW: Yu-Jun.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Yeah. Sure. Her.
WARDLOW: Korean girls are very different from Japanese girls, Max.
(As MJF scoffs and takes a sip of his mimosa, Wardlow cracks his neck. He stands a few feet away from the hot tub area in a suit.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I'm telling you, one good soak will take all the tension out of those shoulders, Wardlow.
WARDLOW: That's not going to take the tension out of my shoulders.
(MJF picks up on the tone and turns.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?
(Wardlow smirks.)
WARDLOW: Ending Malakai Black is going to take the tension out of my shoulders.
(Now it's MJF's turn to smirk as he nods his head.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Yeah… that little creep. What a hero.
(MJF snarls.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Imagine the reaction if I were to eliminate someone from behind? If that dastardly, devious MJF were to take advantage of an opponent's lack of awareness? Imagine what they'd say to me.
WARDLOW: Imagine the reaction if you took credit for all my eliminations. Oh, wait.
(There's a tense moment of silence as MJF glares at Wardlow, who stares back. After a little bit, MJF begins to smile and points at Wardlow, who shows the smallest, faintest sign of a smile.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: You almost had me there!
WARDLOW: Yeah. I know.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I can't believe people actually thought that there was some kind of issue between us.
WARDLOW: Matches like that get pretty intense.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Your role in that match was very clear. The fact that the knuckle draggers in attendance and the meatbags calling the matches couldn't see that is beyond comprehension. You were there to make sure I won. Now, you dropped the ball there, of course -- that's not up for debate -- but you made yourself useful. And I can live with that. But let's make sure we tighten that up going forward, okay, bud?
(MJF winks as he tosses back the rest of his mimosa. Wardlow's smile has completely vanished as he narrows his eyes a bit in the direction of MJF.)
WARDLOW: Yeah.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: We need to figure out what we're going to do about this little Aubrey Edwards situation. I know she took my rejection of her pretty hard a couple years ago but her being allowed to officiate my matches cannot continue. She's clearly biased against me and she's the other reason I wasn't able to win that match. In order of blame, it goes you then her and then Malakai Black. I'm sure you'll take care of Malakai Black when you see fit. But Aubrey? This needs to be addressed as soon as possible. For all we know, she's got a silicone toy tickling her organs right now as she watches my elimination over and over again. Or maybe she's just looking at the shirtless eight-by-ten I signed for her a few years ago when I thought she was just some rat. Either way, I'm sure she'll be at Vengeance and she'll ask Noelle Foley's Dad to be the referee for all my matches going forward and we can't let that happen.
WARDLOW: I'll make a call.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Hang on, big man.
(Wardlow had just begun to reach into his pocket when he stops.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: We need to figure out this week's match, too. I mean, these 2-point-O clowns? No problem. They couldn't make a dent in a pile of snow. They're jokes. They're an Ever-Rising pile of shit who will never amount to anything. That said, Foley isn't really expecting me to go out there with Lennie Small, right? I know he's taken a couple hundred too many shots to the head, but he doesn't actually think this is going to happen, right?
WARDLOW: That's the idea. You know, "put two opponents together as a tag team and see what happens." It's tired, but it's a thing.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: The first chance he gets, that gorilla is going to attack me from behind in an attempt to stop me from beating the shit out of him at Ascension and taking that little X Division Championship from him. He knows it's the only way he walks out with the title. He's dumb but he's not that dumb.
(MJF begins to stand up. A snap of his fingers prompts Wardlow to grab a Burberry towel. M J F is embroidered in gold, naturally.)
WARDLOW: One hurdle at a time. We'll worry about Braun when we need to.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Yeah. After I beat him at Ascension, I'll be one step closer to taking my spot at the top of this company. As long as you don't screw things up again.
(MJF cackles as he walks towards the sliding glass door and opens it. Wardlow cracks his neck.)
January 22, 2022
Vivint Arena
Salt Lake City, Utah
(MJF is seething as he rips open the door to his locker room. Wardlow has an ice pack on his shoulder.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: DID YOU SEE THAT?! DID YOU SEE WHAT THEY DID TO ME?!
(Wardlow's calmness is a direct contrast to MJF's rage.)
WARDLOW: No. What happened?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: THAT LITTLE BITCH AUBREY EDWARDS! SHE… SHE… SHE COST ME THE WLCW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! SHE SCREWED ME! SHE'S GOING TO PAY! MARK MY WORDS! THIS ISN'T OVER YET! WHERE'S FOLEY?!
(MJF starts shouting as he storms out towards the hallway.)
WARDLOW: Well, other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?
(Wardlow laughs to himself.)
Tuesday, 8:28 a.m.
January 25, 2022
The Friedman Estate
Plainview, New York
(MJF is relaxing in a hot tub. A beautiful young Asian girl hands him a mimosa.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: My offer for you to join me is still on the table, sweetheart.
(She blushes and shakes her head as she walks away.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: See, why couldn't those girls at Vengeance be a little more like… uh…
WARDLOW: Yu-Jun.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Yeah. Sure. Her.
WARDLOW: Korean girls are very different from Japanese girls, Max.
(As MJF scoffs and takes a sip of his mimosa, Wardlow cracks his neck. He stands a few feet away from the hot tub area in a suit.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I'm telling you, one good soak will take all the tension out of those shoulders, Wardlow.
WARDLOW: That's not going to take the tension out of my shoulders.
(MJF picks up on the tone and turns.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?
(Wardlow smirks.)
WARDLOW: Ending Malakai Black is going to take the tension out of my shoulders.
(Now it's MJF's turn to smirk as he nods his head.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Yeah… that little creep. What a hero.
(MJF snarls.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Imagine the reaction if I were to eliminate someone from behind? If that dastardly, devious MJF were to take advantage of an opponent's lack of awareness? Imagine what they'd say to me.
WARDLOW: Imagine the reaction if you took credit for all my eliminations. Oh, wait.
(There's a tense moment of silence as MJF glares at Wardlow, who stares back. After a little bit, MJF begins to smile and points at Wardlow, who shows the smallest, faintest sign of a smile.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: You almost had me there!
WARDLOW: Yeah. I know.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I can't believe people actually thought that there was some kind of issue between us.
WARDLOW: Matches like that get pretty intense.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Your role in that match was very clear. The fact that the knuckle draggers in attendance and the meatbags calling the matches couldn't see that is beyond comprehension. You were there to make sure I won. Now, you dropped the ball there, of course -- that's not up for debate -- but you made yourself useful. And I can live with that. But let's make sure we tighten that up going forward, okay, bud?
(MJF winks as he tosses back the rest of his mimosa. Wardlow's smile has completely vanished as he narrows his eyes a bit in the direction of MJF.)
WARDLOW: Yeah.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: We need to figure out what we're going to do about this little Aubrey Edwards situation. I know she took my rejection of her pretty hard a couple years ago but her being allowed to officiate my matches cannot continue. She's clearly biased against me and she's the other reason I wasn't able to win that match. In order of blame, it goes you then her and then Malakai Black. I'm sure you'll take care of Malakai Black when you see fit. But Aubrey? This needs to be addressed as soon as possible. For all we know, she's got a silicone toy tickling her organs right now as she watches my elimination over and over again. Or maybe she's just looking at the shirtless eight-by-ten I signed for her a few years ago when I thought she was just some rat. Either way, I'm sure she'll be at Vengeance and she'll ask Noelle Foley's Dad to be the referee for all my matches going forward and we can't let that happen.
WARDLOW: I'll make a call.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Hang on, big man.
(Wardlow had just begun to reach into his pocket when he stops.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: We need to figure out this week's match, too. I mean, these 2-point-O clowns? No problem. They couldn't make a dent in a pile of snow. They're jokes. They're an Ever-Rising pile of shit who will never amount to anything. That said, Foley isn't really expecting me to go out there with Lennie Small, right? I know he's taken a couple hundred too many shots to the head, but he doesn't actually think this is going to happen, right?
WARDLOW: That's the idea. You know, "put two opponents together as a tag team and see what happens." It's tired, but it's a thing.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: The first chance he gets, that gorilla is going to attack me from behind in an attempt to stop me from beating the shit out of him at Ascension and taking that little X Division Championship from him. He knows it's the only way he walks out with the title. He's dumb but he's not that dumb.
(MJF begins to stand up. A snap of his fingers prompts Wardlow to grab a Burberry towel. M J F is embroidered in gold, naturally.)
WARDLOW: One hurdle at a time. We'll worry about Braun when we need to.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Yeah. After I beat him at Ascension, I'll be one step closer to taking my spot at the top of this company. As long as you don't screw things up again.
(MJF cackles as he walks towards the sliding glass door and opens it. Wardlow cracks his neck.)