Part 2 - The Game Plan

[Max Daemon]

Max sits down at his dining room table. He finishes off a piece of pork before grabbing the clear glass of alcohol. The bottle of Jack Daniels seen nearby is a good enough indicator of what he is drinking.

He tips the glass back and chugs the remainder of what is left of the Jack.

With a sigh of contentment, Max sets the glass down.

"I'm a pretty simple man. I find joys in the simple things.

A fine dinner of some kinda meat.

A nice glass or bottle of alcohol.

A good round of sex.

And a fun match or fight between two people who just beat the absolute piss outta each other.

I'd be happy walkin inta' this Rumble knowin that everybody involved is lookin ta' head onta' The Big Show and beat The Champion while, I, myself, find contentment in just beatin the absolute piss outta everyone.

Don't get me wrong, beatin the absolute piss outta everyone will lead ta' me headin onta' The Big Show and beatin The Champion.

But even if I somehow lose, because entertainin impossibilities is always fun, I'll at least know that I didn't back down without a fight.

Of course, implyin that anybody else in this match stands a chance of outsurvivin me is comical, but hey, at least we all know that it wasn't my confidence that did me in.

Nah, this match seems ta' be invitin everybody from across the world and across the wrestlin landscape. And certainly I am interested in facin any one of 'em.

Wait, no, let me...let me correct that.

Beatin.

I meant beatin any one of 'em.

I've faced a lot of people in my time as a pro wrestler. I've hated a handful of 'em, not respected another handful, and kept a lotta people I actually admired in my pockets, but I can't say I ever outright held anythin past respect for a lotta 'em.

Of course, I barely know anybody who is participatin in this match. Unlike PWE, there isn't an open listin of who has opted ta' compete, so I'm goin off my own ass here, but...

I do know JC Keeton. The guy who was in AW for a little bit before decidin he was too good and triple homicideed a match after losin ta' Chris Page.

Not that I blame him. I'd decide ta' leave some place too if I ever lost ta' Chris Page. Somebody who loses ta' that guy has some serious problems ta' figure out, least of all just how exactly they ended up losin ta' Chris Page.

Chris is meant ta' be some irreverent figure, right? So normally it'd be an honor ta' lose ta' him or somethin, right?

Keep tellin yourself whatever bullshit ya' need ta' tell yourself JC ta' justify your own failure. It's not like we're enterin a match that has relevant stakes towards fightin somebody with a championship aka a big moment not dissimilar ta' your match against Page.

Oh we are?

We are doin that?

Well, don't be disappointed in yourself if ya' end up bein thrown over the top. It won't be the first time ya' blew it, won't be the last.

Ooh, Matt Knox is here. A thorn in Lis' side that I'd normally be proud ta' fight alongside if it wasn't for the fact that he's a dick.

A bigger one than me.

Symbolically, not physically, anyway.

And not even the good kind either. Like a smelly one that hasn't been washed after a long match.

Also he's the fucker who pinned me off the ref's fuck-up in the latest Roth Cup so he's not exactly first on my list ta' hold hands with.

That's it. Everyone else in this match is an unknown ta' me.

Normally people do research or some shit ta' make the match easier, but nah, not me. Surprise me motherfuckers.

Who out here thinks they can throw me out? Who out here thinks they can outfight me long enough ta' toss my ass out so my feet hit the floor?

Gonna take a shot in the dark and say that everyone else thinks that.

I mean, everyone else is delusional, so what the fuck ever, right?

I mean, I'm Max fuckin Daemon. World traveled, been everywhere, fought everyone, willin ta' throw down with anybody willin ta' throw 'em up. I don't give a fuck. I'll fight you, I'll fight your brother, I'll fight your dad, I'll fight your mom, I'll fight your grandma, I don't give any kinda fuck.

But I don't need ta' do any of that. I don't need ta' fight anybody's grandma or anybody's relative. I don't need ta' fight everybody who thinks that they can.

I just need ta' be the last one standin in that ring at the end of the night.

History lesson: the first match I participated in and also won (both the same match, and was also for the World Title, see Part 1 for reference) was a battle royal. With people even better and more remembered than anybody I've seen sign up for this shit.

I don't need ta' outfight everyone.

I just need a little bit of luck, and a whole lotta ass kickin.

And babey, kickin ass is somethin I am very good at."