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Curse My Name

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[There is a light dusting of snow on the ground in Portales, New Mexico. During this time of year, the small community is rather quiet. With the local university being in recess for the Christmas break, much of the life of the town is gone. However, there is one man that continues to make his wage, weather be damned. The men that service the irrigation wells and systems of the area are constantly active. This is the business of Brandon Barajas' grandfather, Robert Hobbs. In the distance a large yellow rig can be seen. The rig is a classic straight from '57, only not built for looks, but for efficiency. A large mast is raised 30 feet in the sky with a cable coming down between two men huddled together with pipe wrenches in their hands.]

Robert:
Alright, stay back. This pipe might be rotted out.


[Brandon nods and takes a step back as his grandfather eases a level on the rig and begins to pull a 20 foot joint of pipe that has been in the ground for the better part of a century. Calcification and rust has collected on the pipe from being in the ground for so long. Once the joint ends, they secure the next joint below, and begin to set their pipe wrenches on the pipe.]

Robert:
Y'know,  I never thought I'd see you out here doing this again.


Barajas: Well, you're no more surprised than I. I should be on my way to Sydney, but instead I'm out here with you. And don't get me wrong..


[Barajas places his wrench on the collar of the next pipe so his grandfather can twist the original one out.]

Barajas:
I love freezing my balls off out here in the middle of fucking nowhere with you. Go..


[His grandfather torques the wrench as Barajas' body tightens to try and keep up with his grandfather. He stumbles a bit forward and Robert laughs.]

Robert:
Didn't you do any sort of working out when you were with Malcolm all this time? You sure are spongy, son!


[Barajas' smiles.]

Barajas:
My work was more pen to paper Pops. However, doing this with you will get me into shape in no time. I can't beleive you're still doing this after 40 years. You're nearly 70, why don't you just retire?


[His grandfather finishes twisting the pipe out, and hands the loose pipe to his grandson. He takes it in hand, and leads it to a flat-bed truck. He lays the pipe down, and the wench on the rig does the rest. He walks back to the well site, and his grandfather gets ready to start the next joint of pipe.]

Barajas:
You never answered me. Why continue to do this when you are set? You and Grams can live a rather decent life with the money you've put back and Social Security. Why do this back-breaking work?


[Robert stops, and presses a button on the control panel of the rig, killing the engine.]

Robert:
Let's go in the rig and have lunch.


[They both walk around the rig and enter the cab. The cab is nice and warm, with it's 50's flare still in tact. All the chrome still looks great, and the radio even works. Robert reaches behind the seat and pulls out a Jethro Bodine sized Igloo cooler and sets it between himself and Brandon. Opening it, he reaches in and hands his co-worker the old standard: Bologna on wheat. Barajas sees this and laughs.]

Barajas:
I never thought I'd be so happy to see a fried bologna sandwich in my life.


[He takes a large bite out of the sandwich and looks over at his grandfather, who is just starting out at the falling snow.]

Robert:
You want to know what I still do this job?


Barajas: Yeah. Why do it?


Robert: Brandon, I'm 70 years old. Your grandmother is 75. Odds are we going to do this until the day we die. We chose to live a life of labor, outside the normal circle of luxury. Hell, before you started appearing on TV, we only had three channels. And one was PBS, so you can imagine we never really cared about television too much.


[Barajas smiles as he takes another bite out of his sandwich.]

Robert:
I was brought up the old fashioned way. You work your ass off, and you reap the rewards later. You get out what you put into this life.

[He looks at his grandson.]


Robert:
That why I think you've done so well. All this ass busting you did out here in the fields with me molded your work ethic. We've been catching you and Max every chance we could, and I can tell that you strive for excellence.


[He turns his gaze back at the falling snow.]

Robert:
When all your work is done on this Earth, so is your time. I'm going to keep doing this until this body can't do it anymore. After that, I'll enjoy whatever twilight years the good Lord gives me.

[Barajas takes a drink of his grandmother's homebrewed iced tea, and sets it back in the cooler.]


Barajas:
You're a hell of a guy, Pops. It's good to be back out here with you guys.


Robert: But this isn't where you belong.


[Barajas eyes his grandfather with a bit of shock.]

Barajas:
What are you talking about?


Robert: You've broken your back out here for years. You aren't meant for this manual labor shit, Brandon. You are meant for more.

[Still looking out the window, Robert reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a check made out for six hours of manual labor at the rate of $7.50. He hands it to his grandson.]


Robert:
I'm not going to need your services anymore.


[Barajas looks at the check, then back up at his grandfather.]

Barajas:
Is this some kind of joke?


[His grandfather smiles, and looks at his grandson.]

Robert: No joke, and your ride is here.

[Barajas looks out the window, and sees a charcoal gray Ford F-150 plowing it's way through the snow and mud of the field. The truck makes a circle around the rig and pulls up next to the passenger's side. The window rolls down, and Maximum Violence is at the wheel.]


Max:
I've come to rescue you from your mundane life of shit-kickin' and manual labor!


[Barajas looks shocked. He looks at Max, then back at his grandfather.]


Barajas:
We're not supposed to be around each other, Pops.


[Suddenly, Barajas is blind-sided by a snowball to the noggin.]

Max: That's when you were working at the MWA. Now that they let you go, that part of the contract doesn't mean shit. Now get out of that beast and get the fuck in here.


[Max sees Barajas' grandfather and grins.]

Max:
Hey Mr. Hobbs. Thanks for the call.


Robert: No problem, Malcolm. He needs to be around you anyway. His skin is much to soft....like a lady.


[They all share a laugh, and Barajas hops out of the rig.]

Barajas:
Thanks Pops. I'll be in touch. Tell Grams goodbye for me.


Robert: Will do. Now get the fuck out of here so I can finish my job.


[Robert laughs, and Barajas shuts the door and runs around the truck and gets in. Max gets one smell of Barajas and nearly loses it.]

Max:
What the fuck, man?! You smell like a microwaved colon!


Barajas: When you pulls out the remains of critters that have fallen to their death in a 70 year old well, you tend to get a bit ripe.


[Max puts the truck in gear.]

Max: I don't know why you didn't tell me when MWA axed you. You shouldn't be out sulking and sweating your ass off out here in the middle of nowhere.


Barajas: Oh, and what should I have been doing?


Max: Figuring out a way to get back into the MWA.


Barajas: Why are you doing this? You should be enraged at me right now. I fucked up your career, and it made me lose my job. Why would you want anything to do with me?


[Max slams on the breaks. Barajas goes face-first into the windshield.]

Max:
Look. I know that you have always known me as a man who will, if you fuck him over, make your life a living hell. I know what you've done. You slept with Carrie, you signed that damn contract, and the end result is my life is a living pain in the balls. But, we have known each other for over twenty years, and I know you are a good man. And that is why I am doing this.

[Max eases the truck back into gear, and merging onto the road. Barajas rubs his head.]


Barajas:
Well, save for a bit of head trauma, I'm in.


Max: Now, don't just say that you are in and not mean it. I need your word that you are going to do what I say.


Barajas: Max...you basically boss me around anyway.


Max: Well, instead of only bossing you around in the MWA, I'm also going to be controlling your life outside of the MWA as well.


Barajas: Yeah, don't forget to wipe my ass after I shit, too.


Max: From what I heard from your grandfather, I wouldn't be shocked if you were whining for that, too. You used to be made of granite, man!


Barajas: Well, vodka and the dollar menu can do a lot to a man over ten years.


Max: Give me your word. I'm not going to put the effort into this if you're not going to pour your soul into it.


Barajas: Yeah, of course. I want my job back.


Max: Alright then. Passport up-to-date?


Barajas: Yeah.


Max: Alright, let's get the hell out of this place and to warmer climates.


[The scene fades as the truck merges onto the main highway.]


++5 days later - 2 days before BattleZone++


[Brandon Barajas is pacing back and forth in front of a door that reads "MWA Management". It is the temporary headquarters for all the higher-ups during BattleZone at The Acer Arena in Sydney. Barajas just stands by the door, putting his hands over his face as the door opens and Maximum Violence emerges from the office. Closing the door behind him, Max approaches Barajas.]

Max:
You're in.

Barajas: Kick ass. You are not going to regret this, Max.


Max: Oh, believe me...I refuse to allow you to fail. But, you know what this means.


Barajas: Yeah..


[Barajas looks down, almost afraid to meet Max's stare. Max extends a hand to Barajas.]

Max:
Good luck, Barajas. This is when we see what you are truly made of.


[Barajas shakes his hand. ]

Barajas: I've got this, Max. Good luck against Pinex on Monday.


[Max laughs as he walks away from Barajas.]

Max:
Don't worry, B2. I make my own luck.


[Scene fades.]


++The Following Is A Phone Conversation That Takes Place Off-Camera++


[Ring....Ring...]

Max:
Yeah.


Morrigan: What the hell do you think you're doing?


Max: I have no idea what you are talking about.


Morrigan: You don't think I have eyes on you when I'm not around? I know about you and Barajas back at the arena. I heard you got him his job back.


Max: I may have put in a word or two, yes.


Morrigan: And you also know that the contract that he drew up and signed says that the two of you aren't to have any contact, correct?


Max: Yes, I do. And if your little stoolies failed to let you know, as soon as pen was to paper, I was a memory.


Morrigan: Yeah yeah. He may have a job with the MWA again, but there is no way in hell he is going to get this job back. You are mine, do you understand that?


Max: Are we done here? Y'know, instead of patting yourself on the back for getting me the Pinex match, you should be spending this time learning the game. Because if Barajas were to have set up this match, it would have been for the title.


Morrigan: How fucking dare you! You think that pathetic idiot could have signed this match? This was MY doing, and my doing alone!


Max: Listen, I'd love to sit here and get in a shouting argument with you, but I have to get ready for my big non-title match. Oh, one more thing.....that hoodie makes you look like a dude.


[Click.]

 

You want to blame me for the way you hate yourself

You think you can find who you are in someone else

Criticize who already found their positioning

You've got a long way to go


-Lamb Of God "Set To Fail"


 

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The MWA keeps setting them up, and I keep knocking them down. It seems like only yesterday that I was putting the boots to Mathew Bowden, and now Maximum Violence has become a permanent fixture in the MWA. Odds are when you hear the initials M-W-A, Maximum Violence's name is pretty quick to follow. And all of this because I kept my word to you all. Every night I walk through that curtain, and offer you all some of the best competition you have seen from the MWA in ages. Now, I can't take all the credit. I mean, what good is the main cast without the supporting characters, right? Well, that's where the line-up changes a bit.


Yeah, Barajas is gone.


The man that got me back in the game is no longer at my side. The least I could do for the guy is get him his job back. He is a hell of an agent, and will do well with whomever he represents. In the end, there is nothing I can do. This is a hole Barajas has dug for himself, and he will have to find a way out on his own. My Campain was sure to have its casualties, but Barajas' loss will definitely be felt.


His replacement...well...we could use a little work there.


I'm not happy about the fact that Morrigan is now boss of the bed clothes over anything Maximum Violence. She now has control over my career, a thing that she always detested. I remember the last phone conversation we had over the phone while I was in Japan. She swore that she would take away everything I earned in my career, and I would be left with nothing. I have to admit, she did shock me when she landed the match with Pinex. Maybe she wants this thing to work? Who am I kidding? She signed this match because she thinks I will fail. A loss of any sort hurts, but a loss at the hands of MWA's golden child, you'd never hear the end of it.


Enough about her. I need to focus. She is trying to throw me to the lions, but she will find that I am a more than suitable opponent for Pinex. And that is something I guess Josh Reed can't wrap his head around. It seems like he is trying to destroy everything he thinks he is doing in the MWA. You want to "restore" the MWA? Take a look around you, kiddo! The grime of MWA's past has been washed away because of me. I have systematically run through the MWA roster, and have tested many a warrior. The ones that remain are the ones that are worthy of the MWA, while the others have faded into the ether.


You put me down and you put down the moniker of Maximum Violence down for being a stereotype. Let me make something clear to you, Josh. There is more in there than just a name. You have seen what I have done here, yet you think that this is all a big sham? When the MWA comes to town and people see that Maximum Violence is on the card, they know that they are going to get what they paid for. You have big words for a man who speaks while two bobble-headed cronies stand by your side. If you ever feel like finding out...truly finding out...why my name is Maximum Violence. I have such sights for you to behold. And I can guarantee that you will never again question my validity in the MWA.


It seems like Christmas will come a day late for me. Finding out that you are going to be facing the champ...well...it always makes you want to go that extra mile. Steve Pinex is a man whom most fear and respect, and I can appreciate that. That's how you get things done. It is with a stern hand that you garner success.  You strike me as a man that has that "I Don't Take Shit Off Nobody" mentality, and that is why you have been so successful. Everyone that you have faced has falled. Granted, you're facing a time bomb by the name of Nana Moto at Rising Sons who also holds a heralded victory over you. Man, I'd be really concerned if I were you.


That's why you are doomed to fail...that's why success is nothing more than a fading thought for you. You have one of the biggest matches of your career coming up. You were even so brazen as to put up $250,000 of your own money to find a worthy opponent. I bet you didn't count on Nana Moto winning the tournament, but she did. And now , you have quite a bit of vittles on your plate. Every time you try to prepare yourself for BattleZone, she is going to creep into your mind, and she will consume you. And while you are busy worrying about your image, your title, and your bank account, I'm here just counting down the days til we meet in Sydney. It's almost as if she will be in the ring with us.


But hey, 'tis the season, right?


I've asked around about you during my tenure here, Steve. And may I say, you are as fascinating as described. They used many words to describe you. You have indeed made quite the impression on the MWA. Bold...strong....clever. It's nice to know they picked up on your many fine qualities. You are quite the unique character indeed. However, there were other words they used to describe you as well, often in fact. You may say the conversation was peppered with it: egotistical...full of himself...drunk with power and stardom. They also said never to approach you they way you would approach an adult, because your reaction would be that of a child. But I disagreed with them. I said that, "If properly challenged, Steve Pinex would meet the challenge with great alacrity and spirit."


You could say I was even a fan..


But I have seen your actions over the past four months. And, outside of taking out Sean McBride, you have really done absolutely nothing to impress me. Week in and week out, I have been breaking the wills and the arms of many an opponent. Whereas yourself, being the "fighting champion" that you are, have been occupied with fighting other promotion's champions...very impressive. On top of that, I guess you consider a battle with a handsy Goliath a warm-up for your big match in Japan. Gave me goosebumps. If you think facing me is going to be anything like your inter-promotional match with Hardaway or your game of grabass with Baboo, you might as well go ahead and give that title to Nana Moto, because you don't have the mind set of a champion, and you will fail. You are going to fail on Monday, and you are going to go down in flames at Rising Sons.


And I will be there to watch your downward spiral. It will be a hard thing for me to watch, but the Steve Pinex I thought I was going to have the pleasure of facing is apparently on vacation. Because you can't be The Ebony Destroyer that I heard about before I came here. The Steve Pinex I expected was a true warrior...a true champion. You are nothing more than a jilted paper champion...and you do not belong. Nana Moto will have to settle for whatever is left of you, because I will settle for nothing less than destroying you. Wherever the old Pinex is, I hope you find him fast....because the clock is ticking. I hope you have enjoyed the joke your title run has become. The punchline is going to be killer, believe that.