Linchpin (FRONTIER #2)
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B2: I gotta say man, that was a pretty impressive outing.
Brandon takes a sip of his Scotch as he and Maximum Violence sit at a local watering hole in Portales, New Mexico. After every successful outing, when feasible, the two would take some time out of their schedule to celebrate a victory at the bar Brandon used to work at. While it seems his days of bartending are far behind him, he still likes to come back for an adult beverage whenever he can. Max looks at Brandon with a bit of surprise in his eyes.
Max: What, were you surprised by the outcome?
B2: Of course not. Just worried about ring rust and the like.
Max: I came back after four years away from the game, and that didn't slow me down one bit..
Max takes a drink of his beer.
Max: ...why do you think three months would be any different?
Brandon laughs, knowing that he may have offended his friend. He drains his Scotch and orders another.
B2: I didn't mean anything by it Max. I'm just complementing you on a job well done. Taking Fairchild down a peg was fun to watch.
Max: Yeah...sure.
B2: What's the problem?
Max: The problem is that I didn't come back to fight for the honor of an organization. I did that in MWA. I made that place respectable and all I got for it was having to jump through hoops just to get my chance at a championship. I'll be damned if I let that happen while I'm in FRONTIER.
Max finishes his beer and slams the bottle down on the bar.
Max: I'm not a damn rookie that needs to show his mettle for years before he gets a nod. I have proven that I am a competitor and a damn good wrestler. And it's time that FRONTIER takes notice to that.
B2: Max, you've only had one show with them. You can't expect them to move you to the front of the line an--
Max: They know what I am capable of! Do you think Scott Mayo doesn't watch MWA television? When we began these negotiations, I had to do little to nothing to get a spot in FRONTIER. He gave me this job because he knows that I am the man that can take them to a place they didn't even know existed.
Max takes his beer in hand and stares at it for a moment. He then laughs and shakes his head.
Max: Instead they have me wrestling people in other federations because it's good for business...go figure.
Max begins to drain his beer. Barajas begins to say something, but he is cut off by Max.
Max: I've already done this for MWA. Nearly a year ago at Rising Sons I decimated Kevin Hardaway in a match set up by both MWA and FRONTIER. And what was my big payoff for that? A series of tag matches with you.
B2: Well you gotta admit, we were pretty impressive as a team. I mean, we did beat August Joyce and Tim Worthington.
Max: And still we were just swept under the rug. I'm not going to let that happen here.
B2: Hey Lyon, can I get two Lil' Hitlers over here please?
As the bartender begins to make their drinks, Barajas stares down at what is left of his Scotch.
B2: Listen, I got the card for the next show a few hours ago.
Max: Good. Maybe now I can actually start wrestling people in FRONTIER.
B2: Not exactly...
Lyon: Here ya go guys.
The bartender sets down their drinks and Barajas picks his up.
B2: You're facing Mr. Rottentreats and Bushido at the WARPED vs. FRONTIER show in Kansas City.
As soon as B2 finishes his sentence, he downs the drink in one. While Bushido is apart of both organizations, Rottentreats is on the WARPED roster. It only takes a moment for Max to react to the news. Shocking B2, Max takes his mixed drink and slowly finishes it. As he tosses the cup to the side he begins to laugh.
Max: Did you say Mr. Rottentreats?
Brandon, shocked by Max's reaction, begins to laugh as well.
B2: Yep. Apparently he's some psychotic ICP fan that took his love of horror rap a bit too seriously.
Max: Well, I gotta admit, the guy must have a set to go around calling himself Mr. Rottentreats, whatever the hell that means. What about Bushido?
B2: A man that has nearly the same influences as you. Trained in the same vein, although nothing compared to Kurosawa's Dojo.
The name Kurosawsa causes Max to close his eyes. He hasn't told B2 that he had severed all ties with his former sensei some time before deciding to sign with FRONTIER.
B2: All in all, you're facing two guys that like to play rough, which should be right up your alley.
Barajas motions the bartender for the check and begins to speak as he pulls out his wallet.
B2: You seem to be taking all this in stride pretty well Max.
Max: Just the thoughts of a reckless mind B2. You go ahead and get going, I'm going to stick around for a little bit....soak in some of the local color.
B2 smiles and pats his old friend on the back.
B2: Just don't do anything that I wouldn't do. I know you've seen me on the visitor's side of a jail cell...I'd hate for that role to be reversed.
Max: One of the many differences between you and I Barajas...you always get caught.
Barajas drops a twenty on the bar and leaves Max to his thoughts. A few hours later Max has amassed quite the collection of empty bottles near his side of the bar. As it nears closing time, the bartender signals that it is last call for alcohol and the few local vagrants rush to the bar to get their last fill of the night. The bartender makes his way down to Max's end of the bar and begins to clear out the empty bottles.
Lyon: Last one for the night?
Max looks at the bartender and nods. Lyon grabs a beer and hands it to Max. The door opens and the bartender acknowledges the patron.
Lyon: Sorry miss, we're closing up for the night.
???: Oh that's fine. I'm not here for a drink. Just here to pick someone up.
He gives her a second look and continues cleaning up the bar as Max's eyes close as if he has just been hit with a migraine. He knows that voice. The woman's heels clack on the wood floor as she makes her way to the bar and takes a seat beside Max.
???: Long time Malcolm.
Max: Well if it isn't Morrigan. Last time I saw you I was fighting tooth and nail to keep my job at MWA because you had a foolish teenage vendetta against me.
He picks up his beer and raises it to her in salute.
Max: To what do I owe this dubious pleasure?
Max takes a drink of his beer and places it on the bar.
Morrigan: Isn't it possible that I just wanted to come to Portales and see how your new venture was going?
Max: No...no it's not.
Morrigan: Well, how very astute of you. I guess there is no fooling you. Truth is I came down because I heard you had signed with FRONTIER and I wanted to see if I could get in on the action as well.
Max finishes the rest of his beer and stands up from the bar.
Max: Go to the website and fill out an application.
Morrigan: No no, I don't want to be a web administrator or anything like that. I want to be a part of the shows.
Max: And what makes you think I would so much as raise a finger to help you do that?
Morrigan: Because deep down you know that you owe me something for all the years of hell you put me through.
Max reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He looks at Morrigan for a moment, then proceeds to pull out two twenties and lays them on the bar.
Max: If you had come to me like this while I was in MWA, I would have welcomed you with open arms and done everything I could to secure you a spot.
Still looking Morrigan in the eyes, Max reaches for his parka and puts it on.
Max: Good luck getting a job...because you're not going to get any help from me. Goodbye Morrigan.
Max turns and leaves while Morrigan sits at the bar to collect her thoughts.
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Twenty long years....
I have traveled the Earth for twenty years facing various challenges and leaving my mark on the wrestling industry. We all know that there are quite a few greedy folk in this business, but I have always been about the betterment of the brand. If [Insert Various Organization here] is doing well, then that means I am going to do well. When I first started out that seemed to ring true. I would break my back carrying various wrestling companies to the top of the mountain...only to be thrown off a cliff when I got them there. At the time I was a young guy, so I didn't think too much of it. I knew I wasn't established then, but I knew deep down that my time was coming. I traveled from Japan to Europe for a short time, then finally made my way back to the states to gain the prize I knew I had earned. But, every time I came to collect, I was turned away.
Fast forward to 2011. I know that I had one more good run left in me before I decided to hang up the boots, so I came back to MWA. Now that is a place full of history! Well, it's full of more than that if you ask me. For nearly a year they would set up challenges and I would knock them down with ease. Every time you saw Maximum Violence's name on the card, a top star or hall of famer's name was sure to follow. Whether it was Sean McBride or Tim Worthington, you knew they would fall. And what did I get for all my hard work and sarifice?
Tag matches with B2...my agent...good move MWA!
Finally my contract expired while I was rehabbing an injury sustained by Jason Talbot. I took some time to really decide what I wanted to do. Did I want to just stop and call it a day? No...I didn't want the last image of me to be Gabriel Gambino pinning me while my foot was on the rope for the #1 contender spot in MWA. That just didn't sit well with me. I had heard FRONTIER was going to be the next big thing. I always enjoyed working for a company during their humble beginnings. I checked out the roster and realized that much of my competition from MWA was there, most of them I had unfinished business with. I was almost salivating at the thought that I would be able to take care of these guys away from the business-minded MWA.
A month has passed and I'm still fighting FOR them..
First it was A.J. Fairchild, now it's Bushido and...and...Mr. Rottentreats. I have to say that name a few times just to know that it's real. I've tried to do a little bit of homework on Rottentreats on the internet, but everytime I put his name in the search bar, all I seem to get is thousands of fat white kids with their faces painted up like bargain bin clowns while they bathe themselves in cheap soda. I mean don't get me wrong, I think that shit is hilarious. Finally after digging through the juggalo bullshit, I was shocked to see that there actually is a wrestler named Mr. Rottentreats! I don't know how you pulled that one off bud, but good for you. Now I was thinking to myself, "surely this is just some weird coincidence that this guy has any link to some rap group that gets off on some of the lamest noise that I have ever heard.."
Well, I thought wrong...
Pulled up some of his matches online, and they were just as hard to watch as that "music" is to listen to. I get it, being violent in wrestling matches is the cool thing to do now and you got a pretty good handle on hurting yourself Rottentreats. I know that you wear all those scars like badges of honor, but you are a fool to do so. All those scars say to me is that you suck at your job and you hide it by putting yourself through as much bodily harm as possible to cover it up. I have been doing this for twenty years and except for the occasional cut or two, I remain unscathed. Granted, you can't say that for everyone that has stepped into the ring with Maximum Violence. That is the big difference between you and I: You are good at hurting yourself, while I am even better at hurting others. I don't need tables or weapons or rolls of barbed wire to get my point across. All I need are these two fists and a moment of your time. I've seen "hardcore" wrestlers come and go and their time spent in this business is short. After November 18th, the name Mr. Rottentreats will finally be synonymous with something great....it's just too bad that you will be at the losing end of it.
I'm through talking about clowns...
When I heard that Bushido was going to be in the match as well, I was actually looking forward to it. Sure, he is on the WARPED roster, but he is also contracted to FRONTIER. Finally..I was going to be able to test FRONTIER and see what they had to offer me besides wrestlers from other companies. As I started to do my research, my excitement started to dwindle until it was finally gone. I mean, is this what FRONTIER really thinks of me? You bring in one of the most battle-tested warriors to ever step foot in a ring and you place me in a match with not one, but TWO curtain jerkers? I am Maximum F***ING Violence! Just because you trained at some fancy Japanese school stateside doesn't even begin to give you the most basic requirements for being allowed the honor of having your name on the card next to mine.
I don't know what Bushido plans on getting accomplished in Kansas City other than making an absolute mockery of professional wrestling, but any hopes and aspirations you plan on making a reality aren't going to come to fruition. Any time someone has tried to make a name at my expense has just been met with nothing but regret and broken bones. You think you can compete with me? Go find Jason Talbot and ask him how easy it is to pin my shoulders to the mat. Ask Gabriel Gambino...the only way he can get a victory over me is by sending a little payola the way of some half-assed referee to disregard any rule in the book just so he can advance his pathetic career.
But if you really think about it Bushido, the reasoning behind you being placed in this match are clear. It's not about how little FRONTIER thinks of me, but how little they think of you. In the MWA I made it my mission to cleanse that place of any wrestler that didn't stack up. This is FRONTIER's way of saying that you do not belong. And while I hate to waste a good days work on the likes of you, I'll be more than happy to remove you from FRONTIER along with any memory of you.
In the end, I'll go out to that ring...MY ring...and make short work of the both of you. After that, I'm going to make it my personal responsibility to go through the entire FRONTIER roster one by one and weed out the weak. There may be a few casualties along the way, but if you can't handle an all-out war in the ring with Maximum Violence, then you picked the wrong profession.
Look at the bright side boys...you'll be able to park in the handicap spot for all your Black Friday needs...Happy Holidays.
