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The Campain
[Location: Backstage Area at Lambeau Field - Old School Anarchy - September 18th, 2011]
[The scene backstage is that of chaos. People are shuffling around to get to their destinations. And through the traffic, Brandon Barajas emerges. He is wearing a black/purple pin stripe suit and trademark aviators. As he makes his way thorugh the crowd, he notices that an intern has tripped and spilled soda all over herself.]
[Barajas laughs to himself and continues down the hallway. As he strolls, he notices some photos hanging on the wall. He pauses, and walks to the wall, examining the photos. The first is a photo of Bart Starr passing to Max McGee in Super Bowl I. The second is Starr again, this time his hands raised in triumph as he led his team to two Super Bowls, and two MVP's. A third photo is Brett Favre, winning his first Super Bowl, and the teams first in nearly thirty years. The final photo is of Aaron Rodgers celebrating his Super Bowl victory with a Heavyweight Championship belt hoisted high above him. Barajas sees this and smiles.]
Barajas: Soon enough.
[Barajas looks to his right, and sees John Patrick and Sean McBride deep in conversation. Barajas turns and continues down the hallway. As he passes the two legends, McBride makes eye contact with Barajas. The two do not exchange words, and Barajas makes a right, and into Maximum Violence's locker room. "Kill Everybody" by Skrillex is blaring on a stereo in the corner as Max and Ig are practicing boxing combinations. Ig sees Barajas walk in, and motions for Max to stop.]
Ig: What are you doing here?
Barajas: First match is done. We're up in ten minutes.
Ig: Well, for the next eight minutes, I'm going to need you to wait outside.
[Barajas approaches Ig in a much more aggressive fashion than ever before. Ig, however, holds his ground.]
Barajas: You listen to me. The days of you being the badass who calls the shots around here are over.
[He points to Max.]
Barajas: That is Maximum Violence, and I represent him. You? You are a trainer, nothing more. For the past five years that Max has been on the Indy circuit, you have done nothing but keep him down, and keep him in the minor leagues.
[Barajas pauses.]
Barajas: Do you hear that? That is the sound of tens of thousands of MWA fans getting ready to see the return of Maximum Violence. And there are millions watching on television. And do you know who orchestrated all of that, Ig?
[Before Ig can answer, Barajas continues.]
Barajas: I did. And I'll be damned if I let someone like you ruin this for us. Now, YOU get out. Max and I have something to discuss before his match.
[Ig looks over at Max, and Max shrugs, with a grin on his face. Ig stares angrily at Barajas, and walks out the door. Barajas takes his aviators off and approaches Max.]
Max: Damn, man. I haven't seen a good ol' B2 explosion like that in years. Maybe I was wrong about you.
Barajas: Yeah, but enough about that. I ran into Patrick and McBride on my way to the locker room.
[Max begins to scowl.]
Max: What did I tell you about bringing up those names?
Barajas: No, Max, you don't understand. I didn't see any friendly intent in their eyes. They are up to something.
Max: Well, that's new business. We'll climb that mountain when we come to it. It's time to handle the business at hand.
[Barajas offers his hand to Max.]
Barajas: Let's make these people remember what it was like when the MWA was great.
[Max shakes Barajas' hand.]
Max: Welcome back, Barajas.
[Max pats Barajas on the back, and then places his mask on. As Max dons the mask, his demeanor changes completely. What once was pride and respect in his face is now nothing more than rage and determination. Barajas nods at Max, and the two make their way out of the locker room and towards the entrance. "The Animal" by Disturbed hits the PA and The Violent One makes his way through the curtain, prepared to re-introduce himself to the MWA.]
[30 minutes later.]
[Maximum Violence is back in the locker room with Barajas after winning his match against Matthew Bowden. They are watching a monitor as Sean McBride and John Patrick lay down their challengeto Maximum Violence. As McBride finishes, Barajas turns off the monitor and looks at Max.]
Barajas: I hope you're not afraid of heights, because that's a hell of a mountain.
[Max looks at Barajas like a man hungry for carnage.]
Max: There is more than one way to conquer a mountain, Barajas. You can climb over it, or you can blast your way through.
[Scene fades..]
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--The Following Happens On-Camera--
[Location: The Shop - September 27th, 2011]
Barajas: Max? Where the hell are you?
[No response. Confused, Brandon begins to slowly make his way through the haze.]
Max: I wouldn't come much closer, bud. Unless you're cool with full-on male nudity.
[Brandon quickly stops.]
Barajas: You know, you could have said that before, man. Last thing I need burned into my corneas is an image of a 40 year old wrestler.
Max: I'm sure you've seen worse, and I'm 38 asshole. Y'know, I seem to recall some of those late night rendezvous you used to score after shows, man. And those ladies were WAY above 40.
Max: Do you remember Marie?
Barajas: Marie? Yeah...I remember Marie.
Max: Wow! She was a wall of a woman! Only woman I've ever met that used two chairs at IHOP. One for each ass cheek. Damn, she was sweet. You ever talk to her, man?
Barajas: That was in the WICW days. I've since smarted up and moved on to bigger and better things.
Max: Doesn't get much bigger than Marie. Do you remember when she took that entire tray of crab legs to our table at that Chinese joint? They didn't even question it! They even let her keep the cracker! Nice to know she has a trophy for something.
Barajas: What the hell has gotten into you, man? I assumed you were here with Ig preparing for Battlezone. Instead, I find you bathing in your own sweat while you listen to some angry music.
Max: Fuck off, it's what I do after a victorious skirmish. This is like my "bathing in the blood" ritual.
Barajas: Well, when you're done, I have some business to discuss.
Max: Why can't we discuss business now? Sure, my jams are hanging out, but I can take this seriously. What do you have for me?
Barajas: I really think this should wait until you're done relaxing.
Max: The longer you draw this out, the less relaxing this is. Spit it out man.
Barajas: Alright. You have your match against Sean McBride.
[Silence rings through the steam.]
Max: That's good. That's very good. Apparently the MWA have realized that I'm here for their salvation, and are quick
to have me rid them of another scar on the face of this great organization.
Barajas: That's not even half of it. The two of you are set to face off on the next episode of Battlezone.
[Silence again.]
Barajas: Max?
Max: I'm listening.
Barajas: Finally, the two of you are facing off in the first round of the MWA Heritage Championship Tournament.
[Max begins to laugh uncontrollably. Brandon mutters under his breath.]
Barajas: I knew that one would do it.
[He waits for Max to finish his episode, and continues.]
Barajas: Battlezone got bumped to October 17th. Gives you some time to prepare. I'm going to leave you to your thoughts. Any questions, I'm a phone call away.
[Barajas tries to find his coat, and does. The steam begins to dissipate as he makes his way to the door. He reaches to open it, but stops. Something is written on the steel door.]
I'm one with the warrior inside
My dominance can't be denied
Your entire world will turn
Into a battlefield tonight
As I look upon you
Through the warrior's eyes
Now I can see the fear
That will ensure my victory this time
[Barajas stares at the words written on the door as the scene fades.]
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[Location: The Home Of Maximum Violence - October 8th, 2011 - Bangor, Maine.]
[The lights in the home of Maximum Violence are black, save for one room. There is one light on in the second floor of the building. A shadow is cast over the curtain, the shape stopping for a moment. A hand grabs the curtain and opens it to reveal Maximum Violence. He gazes up at the full moon, waiting intently as if waiting for the moon to say something to him. The scene then changes from the exterior to the interior of his home. We see that Max is walking through his trophy room, the one room where Max finds solace. Inside the room are five column-like display cases. Four of the five are occupied by championship belts, whereas the last is empty. Max walks by the first column, placing his hand gently on the glass.]
Max: JECW...Johnny Extreme Championship Wrestling. That was the first time you people were lucky enough to see Maximum Violence on a national scale. At one time, JECW was the biggest wrestling promotion in New England. I remember my first match there, against Donald Winter. We battled for the better part of an hour all across the Bangor Civic Center. That was when Johnny Extreme realized he had made the right choice, and threw Maximum Violence into the spotlight. Finally, it was my time to shine, and I defeated World Champion The Sic'ness in what people called the best match of 1999. I separated my shoulder that night, but I also separated the champ from his title as well. That was a wonderful moment in my life. I had truly realized my dream of becoming champion.
[Max runs his finger over the glass, collecting a large ball of dust on the tip of his finger.]
Max: That is also ancient history.
[Without warning, Max pushes the display case forward, sending it crashing in a hail of glass. The title lay crumpled and discarded among the shards of glass. He doesn't give the scene a second glance as he moves onto the next display case. The letters "WFW" are etched on the front of the belt.]
Max: Oooh, whenever anyone hears those letters, we all get a little chill down our spines, don't we? WFW...
[Max shivers a little.]
Max: Damn, it still gets me! The battles I had in that organization, people still talk about them. The WICW/WFW/MWA match, the battles with Nick Claffey, Derek Grimes, "The Shooter" John McGraw. But, my eyes lit up, and the fire grew inside me whenever I'd hear Sean McBride's name after mine. Those were the matches that I looked forward to. Because I knew that when the two of us faced off, we were sure to tear the house down. And we always did.
[Max walks in-between the display cases standing between his two WFW titles.]
Max: When I won my first WFW title, the Intercontinental Championship, the first two people to congratulate me on my victory were John Patrick and Sean McBride. I remember how proud I was to get that accommodation from such a decorated star like the great Sean McBride. Any time he gave me a compliment, or threw a bit of advice my way, I felt like I had just been helped by one of the greatest this business had to offer.
[Max shoves the two pillars to the floor with more force than the last.]
Max: Nothing but bad reminders of bad times. But this..
[Max walks to the fourth column, holding his WICW World Heavyweight Title.]
Max: This title meant everything to me. It let the masses know that I had arrived, and The Violent Era had arrived in WICW. When I won that title, I did it the way I like to do everything: alone. When I got the call to join WICW, I felt like all my hard work had finally been rewarded. The broken bones, the hours on the road. I sacrificed more than any sane man should. But, then again, I was never known for my sanity. I didn't have any allies then. I had more detractors than I did fans. They never thought I'd amount to much of anything outside WICW. They ate quite a bit of crow the day WFW called me up. However, in the end..
[Max shoves the display case over, adding his WICW belt to the carnage.]
Max: The doors closed and it became nothing more than a distant memory.
[Max walks over the glass to the final display case, which is empty.]
Max: Now, we fast forward about seven years. Maximum Violence falls off the face of the Earth, and Sean McBride continues his ascent into the stars! WFW Hall of Famer, MWA Hall Of Famer, the list goes on and on! All the while I sat back, and watched him piss on everything I fought to defend. Then, it all came to a head, and I couldn't sit idly by and let people like McBride tarnish the good name of the MWA. I've seen the man destroy two companies, and I'll be damned if I let him take a third from me.
[Max places both hands on the empty glass.]
Max: This case is going to house my latest badge of honor, the MWA Heritage Championship. It's a very fitting title. A title rich in integrity and honor, something Sean McBride used to know a lot about. It is also fitting that the two of us will face off in the first round of the MWA Heritage Championship tournament. I have been frothing at the bit for an opportunity to inflict pain on Sean McBride ever since the doors of WFW closed. The MWA has thrown the beast more meat, and my hunger will not be satiated until I feel your shoulder pop from it's socket, and your body goes limp. But that feeling pales in comparison to the feeling of denying you your run at the title.
[Max starts to walk away from the wreckage and stops at a desk. He plants himself at the egde and continues.]
Max: Sean, you and I go way back. That is why I'm so surprised you would do something as foolish as jeopardize your career by calling me out in front of the masses. I admire that, shows you got some fuel left in those weary fossils you call bones. But, I've never been keen on being stepping stones for washed-up wrestlers. You know the cost of calling out Maximum Violence, you and your little bald monkey of a pal are well aware. If you aren't, go ask Matthew Bowden, if you can find him. Last time I talked to him, he was handing me a pepperoni slice from Sbarro's with his good arm. This is an eventuality that you can no longer avoid, Sean. All you can do is hope to make it out of Minnesota with your dignity in-tact. Because whatever is left of you after BattleZone, I'm going to mount on my wall.
[Max points behind him.]
Max: Right over the desk, actually. After all, that's what a hunter does: displays his kills.
[Max stands, and walks around the desk.]
Max: So you say you have forgotten about Maximum Violence and Barajas, eh? You are here to "clean house" in the MWA? Well, that's a spectacular idea, Sean! However, for one to actually clean this organization up, you actually have to win matches. And that is where you and I differ. When I say I am going to destroy someone, I do it. When you say it, you are just hoping to get a blurb in a magazine, or a few extra seconds on television. Well, guess what?! You are about to get all the exposure your little heart could desire. Sadly, the only thing the MWA fans are going to remember about you is the great Sean McBride laid to rest at the hands of Maximum Violence. Then you can go and climb back into your Pandora's Box, and wait for JP to pull you out again. Better yet, I think I'm going to stuff the two of you into that box and mail you far away. I hear Yemen is nice this time of year.
[Max laughs to himself, and proceeds to walk behind the desk. He stops beside a chair.]
Max: Now, I've been around Sean McBride and John Patrick long enough to know that McBride and Patrick are predictable. I'm sure that you're going to have your lackey come down to the ring and try to distract me from what I'm going to do to you. And, you're right. If JP is anywhere near ringside, I'd have to take a minute or two to go say hello to him. I don't need that kind of distraction at ringside. So, just to make sure your buddy stays out of our business, I'm going to be bringing an old friend of mine to the ring. Someone that knows the two of you very well. Someone that I know I can trust with my back, and will make sure Johnny doesn't step out of line.
[We now realize that the chair behind the desk had it's back to the desk. The chair begins to spin around, and it is Brandon Barajas. He is dressed in a black suit with purple pinstripes and is wearing his trademark aviators.]
Barajas: I've always been known as the guy who handles the paperwork around here. But, on Monday, I'm going to be ringside as support for my good compadre Max. Now, I'm no wrestler. I think we all remember my short run in WFW. I have been known to, on a good night, beat the living shit out of anyone that threatens my source of income. And that is exactly what the two of you are doing. This is my bread and butter you are fucking with, and NO ONE does that. You want a war, Sean? It's a war you are going to get. And John, if you so much as make a move towards that ring, well, Cancer is going to be the least of your concerns.
[Max looks at Barajas with surprise in his eyes, then turns to the camera.]
Max: The Campain has begun. And there is nothing to stop me from realizing my goal. I will bring balance to the MWA, and I will defeat you Sean McBride. The Heritage Championship? That's just an added bonus for doing what I do so well. The return of the "new" Sean McBride is going to be overshadowed by the beating the old Maximum Violence is going to give you. Seven years is a long time to wait for something. I have been patient, and now the world will get to see who is the better man. I hate to break it to you, but it's not going to be you, McBride. I was always the better man, and now the world is going to find out that Sean McBride is nothing more than an action figure, another pretty face that the MWA thought would take them to new heights. It was never meant to be you, Sean, it was meant to be me. It started with Matthew Bowden, and it will continue with you. The Campain continues at BattleZone, and Sean McBride will be another casualty in the war, Believe That.
[Scene fades..]