Post by jeff on Feb 12, 2022 2:56:55 GMT
(We return to the Friedman Estate to find its owner in the basement. Now, this isn't some dark, dingy basement with cobwebs and dead mice littered across a dirt floor. The only reason you know this is a basement is because I'm telling you it is. With beautiful hardwood floors, handcrafted crown molding, and rich leather couches, this appears to be no ordinary basement. Because it's not. It's MJF's basement so of course, it's immaculate -- like he is. Seated at a large poker table, the future X Division Champion wears a silk smoking jacket, similar to the one famously worn by Hugh Hefner. He's got a stack of poker chips in front of him but there's nobody else at the table. Wardlow is off to the side lifting weights, naturally.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: As we get closer and closer to… Ascension --
(MJF says the word with disgust.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: -- ridiculous name for a show -- but as we get closer, I can't help but think about my opponent. In fact, you're all I think about, Braun. Just the other night I was at a social event with a diiiiime but as she asked to see the Friedman Estate with the most adorable smile and biggest set of "fuck me" eyes I've ever seen, I couldn't help but think about you, Braun.
(MJF shakes his head.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Now, don't get me wrong, I still brought her back here and showed her the time of her life -- I am a gentlemen, after all. But as soon as I had my driver take her home, my mind was back on you, Braun. And don't flatter yourself, bud, my fascination isn't really about you, your impressive stature, or even that gold belt that has your name on it -- for now. The reason I'm so fascinated by you is because your brief but successful run here in WLCW is based entirely on luck.
(MJF laughs.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Crazy, isn't it? You'd think someone with your size, your tenacity, and your experience would be running roughshod through WLCW. You'd think someone as big and strong as you would be competing for the WLCW Heavyweight Championship. But you're not, are you, bud?
(MJF grabs the glass of scotch that sits next to his stack of poker chips. He takes a sip.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Instead you've been saddled with this Million Dollar Man-FTW looking fake championship. A championship that's really just means to an end. A championship so worthless that as soon as you defend it a measly four times you get to throw it away and challenge for the real prize. Not going to lie, Braun, but that's a little sad, isn't it? You should be thanking Noelle Foley's Dad that I'm even in this match because if not, there's no doubt in my mind you'd be one of the piss break matches. You're welcome.
(MJF winks as he picks up one of the poker chips and examines it.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Luck. Someone like you doesn't really need luck, Braun. But here you are. And you owe all your success to that very thing. Think about it. Your first match in WLCW. There's a roster full of talent… in theory. But are you in there with MJF to start? No. Are you in there with… uh… hey, Wardlow, who else in WLCW has talent?
(Wardlow stops his weightlifting to think.)
WARDLOW: Brock?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I don't think putting a needle in your ass is "talent" per se.
WARDLOW: Miro?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Who?
WARDLOW: Miro.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Not ringing a bell.
WARDLOW: … Lana's husband?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Oh, right, him. No.
WARDLOW: Cody?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Okay, you're just fucking with me at this point. Nevermind.
(Wardlow shrugs and goes back to his weightlifting.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Point is, there is probably some talent here in WLCW yet in your very first match you get dropped into a three-way with some piss-ant named Bron Breakker -- that's with two k's, mind you -- and noted fat slob loser drunk Eddie Kingston. That's pretty damn lucky, Braun.
(MJF takes another sip.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: And if that wasn't a lucky enough break, Foley decides that he needs to try to pop a rating in the first ever WLCW show by giving the fans an unexpected championship match. And if he can get a title around your waist at the same time, then my my my, what a lucky break for you, huh? But I'm burying the lede here, Braun. Because before you were gifted a championship match for no reason and before you got thrown into a match with a rookie and a waste of space, you were gifted the greatest gift of all -- you were born a fucking giant. Six-eight, three-fifty. There's absolutely no reason for you to not be in the Ascension main event. You were given gifts that guys like me can only dream of. And what have you done with all that? You're a fucking chef who wrestles part-time?
(MJF looks dumbfounded.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Imagine the success I'd have if I was lucky enough to be born with your size and strength. Imagine the trophy case I'd have if I was lucky enough to block out the sun when I stand up. But I'm not that lucky, Braun. No. All the success I've had to date is a combination of talent, intellect, and planning. The kind of planning that led me to choosing Wardlow here as my shadow. The kind of intelligence that led to my battle royal strategy. A battle royal that even though I lost, I'm still here days away from taking your championship. Let that sink in for a second, people. Even when I lose I win.
(MJF smirks as he takes another sip.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: When you add that intelligence and that planning, you get what happened at Vengeance. When I put old Wardlow here in my spot and watched you get beat by 2-point-0.
(MJF is absolutely disgusted with the thought.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: There were a couple times where I wasn't sure my plan was going to work. I didn't think 2-point-0 were capable of beating anything besides each other's meat. But it happened. You lost to those morons AND Wardlow here kicked your ass after the match was over. The night couldn't have gone better for me. Now all that's left for me is the talent to kick in. If you thought the last month or so was impressive, just wait until that bell rings, Braun. Now that the gold is within my grasp, you're going to see "Big Match Max" up close and in person. Kitchen Nightmare match, Laundry Room Daydream match, I don't give a shit. That X Division Championship is coming home with me. But hey!
(Max points.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Don't get too comfortable, though, X Division Championship. Because you're not going to be staying with me for long. As soon as I defend you four times, your ass is out the door and then I move on to bigger and better things.
(MJF grabs one of the chips again.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I normally don't wish my opponents luck. It's the kind of thing a pussy like Cody Rhodes would do. But I'm going to make an exception for you, Braun. Best of luck this weekend. Because all the luck you've had so far in WLCW has officially run out.
--
Planned to go more in depth with the poker chips and comparing Braun's luck to that of someone who won on the slots machine vs. MJF's "luck" which is entirely talent based, a la winning at poker. But if my opponent isn't going to rp, who cares?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: As we get closer and closer to… Ascension --
(MJF says the word with disgust.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: -- ridiculous name for a show -- but as we get closer, I can't help but think about my opponent. In fact, you're all I think about, Braun. Just the other night I was at a social event with a diiiiime but as she asked to see the Friedman Estate with the most adorable smile and biggest set of "fuck me" eyes I've ever seen, I couldn't help but think about you, Braun.
(MJF shakes his head.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Now, don't get me wrong, I still brought her back here and showed her the time of her life -- I am a gentlemen, after all. But as soon as I had my driver take her home, my mind was back on you, Braun. And don't flatter yourself, bud, my fascination isn't really about you, your impressive stature, or even that gold belt that has your name on it -- for now. The reason I'm so fascinated by you is because your brief but successful run here in WLCW is based entirely on luck.
(MJF laughs.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Crazy, isn't it? You'd think someone with your size, your tenacity, and your experience would be running roughshod through WLCW. You'd think someone as big and strong as you would be competing for the WLCW Heavyweight Championship. But you're not, are you, bud?
(MJF grabs the glass of scotch that sits next to his stack of poker chips. He takes a sip.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Instead you've been saddled with this Million Dollar Man-FTW looking fake championship. A championship that's really just means to an end. A championship so worthless that as soon as you defend it a measly four times you get to throw it away and challenge for the real prize. Not going to lie, Braun, but that's a little sad, isn't it? You should be thanking Noelle Foley's Dad that I'm even in this match because if not, there's no doubt in my mind you'd be one of the piss break matches. You're welcome.
(MJF winks as he picks up one of the poker chips and examines it.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Luck. Someone like you doesn't really need luck, Braun. But here you are. And you owe all your success to that very thing. Think about it. Your first match in WLCW. There's a roster full of talent… in theory. But are you in there with MJF to start? No. Are you in there with… uh… hey, Wardlow, who else in WLCW has talent?
(Wardlow stops his weightlifting to think.)
WARDLOW: Brock?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I don't think putting a needle in your ass is "talent" per se.
WARDLOW: Miro?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Who?
WARDLOW: Miro.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Not ringing a bell.
WARDLOW: … Lana's husband?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Oh, right, him. No.
WARDLOW: Cody?
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Okay, you're just fucking with me at this point. Nevermind.
(Wardlow shrugs and goes back to his weightlifting.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Point is, there is probably some talent here in WLCW yet in your very first match you get dropped into a three-way with some piss-ant named Bron Breakker -- that's with two k's, mind you -- and noted fat slob loser drunk Eddie Kingston. That's pretty damn lucky, Braun.
(MJF takes another sip.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: And if that wasn't a lucky enough break, Foley decides that he needs to try to pop a rating in the first ever WLCW show by giving the fans an unexpected championship match. And if he can get a title around your waist at the same time, then my my my, what a lucky break for you, huh? But I'm burying the lede here, Braun. Because before you were gifted a championship match for no reason and before you got thrown into a match with a rookie and a waste of space, you were gifted the greatest gift of all -- you were born a fucking giant. Six-eight, three-fifty. There's absolutely no reason for you to not be in the Ascension main event. You were given gifts that guys like me can only dream of. And what have you done with all that? You're a fucking chef who wrestles part-time?
(MJF looks dumbfounded.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Imagine the success I'd have if I was lucky enough to be born with your size and strength. Imagine the trophy case I'd have if I was lucky enough to block out the sun when I stand up. But I'm not that lucky, Braun. No. All the success I've had to date is a combination of talent, intellect, and planning. The kind of planning that led me to choosing Wardlow here as my shadow. The kind of intelligence that led to my battle royal strategy. A battle royal that even though I lost, I'm still here days away from taking your championship. Let that sink in for a second, people. Even when I lose I win.
(MJF smirks as he takes another sip.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: When you add that intelligence and that planning, you get what happened at Vengeance. When I put old Wardlow here in my spot and watched you get beat by 2-point-0.
(MJF is absolutely disgusted with the thought.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: There were a couple times where I wasn't sure my plan was going to work. I didn't think 2-point-0 were capable of beating anything besides each other's meat. But it happened. You lost to those morons AND Wardlow here kicked your ass after the match was over. The night couldn't have gone better for me. Now all that's left for me is the talent to kick in. If you thought the last month or so was impressive, just wait until that bell rings, Braun. Now that the gold is within my grasp, you're going to see "Big Match Max" up close and in person. Kitchen Nightmare match, Laundry Room Daydream match, I don't give a shit. That X Division Championship is coming home with me. But hey!
(Max points.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: Don't get too comfortable, though, X Division Championship. Because you're not going to be staying with me for long. As soon as I defend you four times, your ass is out the door and then I move on to bigger and better things.
(MJF grabs one of the chips again.)
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I normally don't wish my opponents luck. It's the kind of thing a pussy like Cody Rhodes would do. But I'm going to make an exception for you, Braun. Best of luck this weekend. Because all the luck you've had so far in WLCW has officially run out.
--
Planned to go more in depth with the poker chips and comparing Braun's luck to that of someone who won on the slots machine vs. MJF's "luck" which is entirely talent based, a la winning at poker. But if my opponent isn't going to rp, who cares?