Post by Maxwell Mason Stone on Dec 20, 2023 19:15:53 GMT -5
BRONX, NY
The scene fades into the exterior of a Bodega in the heart of the Bronx in the middle of the afternoon. A blue collar workin’ man walks out of the store with a blue Gatorade in one hand and a paper-wrapped Chopped Cheese in the other. He takes a bite of the sandwich and drips a little cheesy ground beef on his shirt that he doesn’t hesitate to lift right off and throw into his mouth. Something catches his eye.
Workin’ man: What the hell?
A strong wind is blowing thousands upon thousands sheets of paper down the street. He looks at his surroundings and sees that every pole and visible surface is covered in strange fliers. The wind carries one over to his feet and he bends down to pick it up, spilling cheesy beef all over his shoes in the process. He lifts the flier up and takes a look.
Workin’ man: What the hell?
A strong wind is blowing thousands upon thousands sheets of paper down the street. He looks at his surroundings and sees that every pole and visible surface is covered in strange fliers. The wind carries one over to his feet and he bends down to pick it up, spilling cheesy beef all over his shoes in the process. He lifts the flier up and takes a look.
WHO IS JOE MONTUORI?
WRESTLING'S GREATEST CON MAN
If you've ever been a fan of professional wrestling, you’ve inevitably changed the channel when this man appears on your screen. His name is Joe Montuori and he has held the great sport of professional wrestling hostage for too long. Wrestling fans have had the unfortunate displeasure of having J Mont forced down their throats but his day of reckoning will come when he finally steps into the ring with the man that terrifies him to his core. He can no longer run away from the man he has tirelessly conspired to hold down when he knows that in reality, that man is better than him in every conceivable fashion. The wall will come crumbling down and the world will finally see Joe Montuori for who he really is.
THE TIME FOR RUNNING IS OVER
J MONT FEARS MAXWELL MASON STONE
We're taken to a heavily wooded area covered by pine trees extending as far into the sky as the human eye can see. A deer trots into the scene, pitter pattering its way up to a refreshing collection of water on the ground. As it lowers its head to take in a sip of tranquility, a loud BOOM disrupts the beautiful peace and the deer scurries off. We move across the forest to see two men decked out in hunting gear.
Crestfield: It’s okay… it takes a little practice.
Maxwell Mason Stone lowers his rifle with a look of disappointment scattered across his face. He then looks over at his father and smiles when the fact sinks in that throughout his entire life he had wondered what it would be like to have a dad pass on knowledge and wisdom. Here he is at 44 years old, making up for lost time in a secluded forest in the mountains of Oregon. Just how he’d always imagined?
Crestfield: I’m sure you’ve put two and two together by now so I’m just going to come right out and say it.
Maxwell’s eyebrows perk up in anticipation.
Crestfield: All of this here. Our cause. Our community of amazing people who have given their lives for what we do. This will all be yours, Maxwell.
Crestfield looks down at the ground and then takes a seat atop a boulder.
Crestfield: The universe brought us a great gift when you stepped foot in Paradox Pines and when I’m gone you will be the one that will finish what I started many moons ago.
Crestfield: It’s okay… it takes a little practice.
Maxwell Mason Stone lowers his rifle with a look of disappointment scattered across his face. He then looks over at his father and smiles when the fact sinks in that throughout his entire life he had wondered what it would be like to have a dad pass on knowledge and wisdom. Here he is at 44 years old, making up for lost time in a secluded forest in the mountains of Oregon. Just how he’d always imagined?
Crestfield: I’m sure you’ve put two and two together by now so I’m just going to come right out and say it.
Maxwell’s eyebrows perk up in anticipation.
Crestfield: All of this here. Our cause. Our community of amazing people who have given their lives for what we do. This will all be yours, Maxwell.
Crestfield looks down at the ground and then takes a seat atop a boulder.
Crestfield: The universe brought us a great gift when you stepped foot in Paradox Pines and when I’m gone you will be the one that will finish what I started many moons ago.
MMS: I don’t know what to say. I mean, I’m honored.
Crestfield: Save your words. You have much to learn.
Crestfield: Save your words. You have much to learn.
“An enemy to one of us is an enemy to all.”
A spotlight shines down on Maxwell Mason Stone, whose voice has become one that’s booming and loud and carries all the way to the back of the hall that the Paradox community is gathered in tonight. He’s almost a spitting image of his father with his fine suit and golden watch hanging around his neck. Behind him is a large canvas projecting an image of the flier design that has been posted around the hometown of Joe Montuori. A camera positioned in the center of the aisle points towards the stage.
The shadow you’ve been catching a glimpse of out of the corner of your eye is now right in front of you and you no longer have the option to doubt if it was even real or not. The boogeyman you’ve been hiding under the covers from has finally entered your room and there’s nowhere left to hide. Winter Wrestleland is finally here and we’re in a whole different world now. There’s no more protection. No more coddling. No more easy road for you.
Stone begins to slowly pace around the stage as he gets deeper into thought. The golden spotlight follows.
MMS: It didn’t have to be this way, Joe. We could have gone out there on December 22nd and let our skills speak for themselves. We could have maybe even had a good, if not great match! But I won’t go too far down that hypothetical road because we both know that this has never been about who the better wrestler in the ring is. Based on your reaction, we had that figured out the first time you and I stepped between those ropes. Facts will dictate that on that night, you were in the W column and my name was in the L. “Figures don’t lie, but liars do figure” is a great quote I’m reminded of when I think about that first encounter because for the past year I’ve been watching a liar say that he defeated me in that ring but the truth of the matter is, you pinned some bum in a triple threat who didn't deserve to be in that match in the first place. You lulled him into a false sense of security like you’ve done with countless others, effectively turning it into a two on one handicap match until you preyed on his weak mind and got him down for the count. I don’t blame you for that. It was a good strategy and you did what you had to do to win but the moment you got that win is when the fear and the paranoia began to run through your veins. You poked a bear and then in a true act of cowardness, you concocted a scheme to build your wall of protection to prevent me from ever getting to you again and have been running away ever since. I have been your greatest threat since the first second we got in the ring together
Maxwell removes his pocket watch from around his neck and swings it in front of his face as if he’s a hypnotist. His eyes intensely gaze upon the face and the watch reacts by ticking louder. The ticking is joined by every watch in the room simultaneously getting louder, creating a cacophony of ticking that bounces off the walls of the grand hall.
MMS: How do you continue to coerce people into doing your bidding, Joe? How do you manage to get people more talented than you to form a shield over you to ensure you have it so very easy? Why would anyone claim pride over something as lame as your little Mecca? Is it as simple as money? Surly people as talented as the former Fred Debonair never needed your cash in exchange for his fealty. And Enigma would wipe the floor with you in an instant. How the hell did you manage to sucker him into being your lackey twice now?
Can you believe it, Joe Montuori?
Can you believe that the day you’ve long dreaded is finally here?
Can you believe that the day you’ve long dreaded is finally here?
The shadow you’ve been catching a glimpse of out of the corner of your eye is now right in front of you and you no longer have the option to doubt if it was even real or not. The boogeyman you’ve been hiding under the covers from has finally entered your room and there’s nowhere left to hide. Winter Wrestleland is finally here and we’re in a whole different world now. There’s no more protection. No more coddling. No more easy road for you.
Stone begins to slowly pace around the stage as he gets deeper into thought. The golden spotlight follows.
MMS: It didn’t have to be this way, Joe. We could have gone out there on December 22nd and let our skills speak for themselves. We could have maybe even had a good, if not great match! But I won’t go too far down that hypothetical road because we both know that this has never been about who the better wrestler in the ring is. Based on your reaction, we had that figured out the first time you and I stepped between those ropes. Facts will dictate that on that night, you were in the W column and my name was in the L. “Figures don’t lie, but liars do figure” is a great quote I’m reminded of when I think about that first encounter because for the past year I’ve been watching a liar say that he defeated me in that ring but the truth of the matter is, you pinned some bum in a triple threat who didn't deserve to be in that match in the first place. You lulled him into a false sense of security like you’ve done with countless others, effectively turning it into a two on one handicap match until you preyed on his weak mind and got him down for the count. I don’t blame you for that. It was a good strategy and you did what you had to do to win but the moment you got that win is when the fear and the paranoia began to run through your veins. You poked a bear and then in a true act of cowardness, you concocted a scheme to build your wall of protection to prevent me from ever getting to you again and have been running away ever since. I have been your greatest threat since the first second we got in the ring together
Maxwell removes his pocket watch from around his neck and swings it in front of his face as if he’s a hypnotist. His eyes intensely gaze upon the face and the watch reacts by ticking louder. The ticking is joined by every watch in the room simultaneously getting louder, creating a cacophony of ticking that bounces off the walls of the grand hall.
MMS: How do you continue to coerce people into doing your bidding, Joe? How do you manage to get people more talented than you to form a shield over you to ensure you have it so very easy? Why would anyone claim pride over something as lame as your little Mecca? Is it as simple as money? Surly people as talented as the former Fred Debonair never needed your cash in exchange for his fealty. And Enigma would wipe the floor with you in an instant. How the hell did you manage to sucker him into being your lackey twice now?
No, it’s not the money you give them that keeps them by your side. Nor the power. Nor the respect.
It’s the FEAR that fuels your collective insomnia. The fear that the man who is growing more powerful by the day is coming and will topple each and every person who gets in his way.
Ask Fred
Ask Mac
Ask Axel
Ask them what it was like when the chickens finally came home to roost and how it felt when they each fell to MAXWELL. MASON. STONE.
It’s the FEAR that fuels your collective insomnia. The fear that the man who is growing more powerful by the day is coming and will topple each and every person who gets in his way.
Ask Fred
Ask Mac
Ask Axel
Ask them what it was like when the chickens finally came home to roost and how it felt when they each fell to MAXWELL. MASON. STONE.
"When our enemies act to impede our progress, we must unblock the path by any means necessary."
Maxwell and his father are standing in front of a printer. A fresh paper is spit out from the machine and Stewart picks it up then gives it a look over and smiles. Maxwell takes a look.
MMS: I don't know if I want to go there.
Crestfield: By any means necessary. Do you want to defeat this man?
MMS: I NEED to defeat him.
Crestfield: Then hit him where it hurts. Let his emotions take hold and strike when he’s allowed himself to completely unravel. This is his fault for making them so public.
MMS: I don't know if I want to go there.
Crestfield: By any means necessary. Do you want to defeat this man?
MMS: I NEED to defeat him.
Crestfield: Then hit him where it hurts. Let his emotions take hold and strike when he’s allowed himself to completely unravel. This is his fault for making them so public.
“I had moved on and became hyper focused on the road ahead. Whatever baggage I carried with me into TPW was cut loose when I got a little Mecca revenge and defeated Mac Bane at the biggest event the company had ever seen. The dead company that is IIW was in my rear view mirror but then Joe Montuori exhumed its corpse and then called his old pal Shaun Hart to come over and play Weekend at Bernie's. I guess the past is never truly through with us.”
Maxwell’s voice talks over a shot of Paradox Members driving away from the commune in a convoy of cars and a large box truck.
“You like to speak about your asterisk victories over me but you’ll never speak out loud about the very real one I hold over you, Joe Montuori. This victory wasn’t in the ring, for that’s impossible because you’ve been ducking me all year. This victory is not the one I will achieve when I defeat you for the American Championship, no no.”
The convoy crosses the Canadian Border and passes signs that indicate how far it is to Toronto.
“Peter Vaughn recently said that you killed the IIW and he painted a beautiful picture of how I couldn’t stop it from happening. He made it sound like a real tragic tale of how I tried to be the hero and ultimately failed to save the company from its demise. But Vaughn was wrong in his assessment there. IIW could have continued for as long as Max Stone wanted to be there holding it up on his shoulders. However, the truth is clear. The truth is simple:
Maxwell’s voice talks over a shot of Paradox Members driving away from the commune in a convoy of cars and a large box truck.
“You like to speak about your asterisk victories over me but you’ll never speak out loud about the very real one I hold over you, Joe Montuori. This victory wasn’t in the ring, for that’s impossible because you’ve been ducking me all year. This victory is not the one I will achieve when I defeat you for the American Championship, no no.”
The convoy crosses the Canadian Border and passes signs that indicate how far it is to Toronto.
“Peter Vaughn recently said that you killed the IIW and he painted a beautiful picture of how I couldn’t stop it from happening. He made it sound like a real tragic tale of how I tried to be the hero and ultimately failed to save the company from its demise. But Vaughn was wrong in his assessment there. IIW could have continued for as long as Max Stone wanted to be there holding it up on his shoulders. However, the truth is clear. The truth is simple:
I AM THE ONE THAT KILLED IIW
I took that company and I threw it into a jar. I lit a candle and poured a nice glass of scotch and then proceeded to tighten the lid all the way. I slowly slipped my drink and smiled while I watched you suffocate. Without me around doing the heavy lifting, there was no reason for it to exist any longer because real recognizes real and there wasn’t a soul left that believed IIW had any ounce of legitimacy left after they perfectly crafted the path to victory that you did dick all to earn. All it took was for you to cozy up to some d-list Hollywood failure who fell ass backwards into some power and was desperate for people to like him and like magic, you were the World Champion!”
The Paradox convoy pulls up in front of the Scotiabank Arena.
“I understood the ruse that was taking place when I saw that the magazine covers declaring you champion were printed and distributed before the bell ever rang on your rigged match. From that moment on, I started counting down the days until my contract expired and my indentured servitude was over. I walked away and not even a week later the company announced it was closing, dying, giving up. Without the hope of Max Stone to right the ship, they decided to just lay down and die rather than allow themselves to be further tarnished by an egotistical, loud, weak little man and his band of freeloaders. I cut off the air supply that Joe Montuori needed to nourish his ego that had become so unjustify massive for a guy who couldn’t accomplish anything without the help of his friends in high places. The free ride was now over and you think after all of that, Joe Montuori would have at least been able to walk away with that World Championship as a parting gift but he found himself broken and bruised at the bottom of a pile of rubble as the crowd expressed their gratitude that he was no longer representing the company while it descended into the grave. “
“And that was just the beginning. Continue down your path and I will ensure that you lose EVERYTHING. I took away your empire of dirt and now I will take your American Championship and step over you as I ascend to the top of Thunder Pro Wrestling.”
Heavy winds push tens of thousands of fliers down the street. We catch a glimpse.
MEET BABY GIA
“MY DADDY USES ME AS A SHIELD WHEN HE HAS NOTHING ELSE 😃”
DADDY’S LITTLE PROP
THE LAST LINE OF DEFENSE
WHY DOES MY DADDY FLAUNT ME AROUND?
WILL HE LEAVE ME ENOUGH MONEY FOR THE THERAPY I WILL NEED WHEN HE’S GONE?
WHY DID MY DADDY FOLLOW THE MAN HE’S SO AFRAID OF?
DOES HE CRY BECAUSE HE IS AFRAID?
AFRAID OF
MAXWELL MASON STONE?
THE LAST LINE OF DEFENSE
WHY DOES MY DADDY FLAUNT ME AROUND?
WILL HE LEAVE ME ENOUGH MONEY FOR THE THERAPY I WILL NEED WHEN HE’S GONE?
WHY DID MY DADDY FOLLOW THE MAN HE’S SO AFRAID OF?
DOES HE CRY BECAUSE HE IS AFRAID?
AFRAID OF
MAXWELL MASON STONE?
