“No, no, it’s just the interview with me that you recorded earlier today, you’ll sign the contract at Evolution. They look after their superstars Max, stop worrying so much.”
Passport, check. Hold luggage, check. The United States of America, check. Marvellous. Max Becker had finally made it, his feet on American soil for the very first time.
The camera pans a gradual 180, revealing the front exterior of the rather small Des Moines International Airport, foreground to blackened skies. It’s absolutely freezing today and the rain is pelting against the airport’s glass entrance. Taxis weave their way in and out of spaces as people are hugged to their friends and family preying every next passing vehicle is their pick up.
It’s a funny ol’ sight in that everyone’s wearing at the very least; long pants and a coat. Not big Max though, he stands out like a sore thumb in his lime green shorts, flip flops and black Eminem vest. Max is stood beside a much more suitably attired Reinhard Hansen, CWF’s German colour commentator, who is suited and booted and wrapped warm in a woolly coat.
RH: “He should be here...”
MB: “No need for rushin’ aitch. Cherish the moment ain’t it bro?”
RH: “Yes, yes, you won’t be this unrecognisable the next time you fly here, Max. Americans love their wrestling and nobody does it better than CWF.”
MB: “No homie, there’s brigaders here, yo. Look.”
Max, with a swift hand gesture, directs Hansen’s attention to a mob of fellow passengers gazing at him and taking the odd photo snap. Sadly for Max and on the contrary to how he felt, it’s not his big arrival in the USA they care for; they’re staring at him because he looks like a bit of an idiot. A very excitable one at that, too. The view is soon blocked by a large black 4x4 Chevrolet with blackened windows, mirrored to those you’d see in the usual FBI flicks.
The back door slides open and greeting Max & Reinhard is Jack Beradi, the man responsible for scouting global wrestling talent and helping them transition into the CWF. He’s also suited and booted, a truly professional outfit.
JB: “Max, you’re finally here!”
MB: “J hund! How you doin’? ‘Tis good to finally see yo’ face bro.”
JB: “Yeah, yeah it is. Come on, get in.”
Jack, Max, Reinhard, in that order, occupy the back seats of the car as the recording transitions to a camera recording from within the car.
JB: “Reinhard, did you record the interview?”
RH: “Yes, I sent it to Tristan and there were no problems. It should be live now?”
JB: “Good, thanks. Let me see it.”
Integrated into the spine of each front seat are touch screen tablets, very fancy! Jason fiddles about with the tablet in front of him and as the interview video goes full screen, the camera zooms in on the tablet to mimic the view of the CWF staff on screen.
The song ‘NWO’ by Kollegah plays alongside a video airing a montage of clips including the Brandenburg Gate, the Reichstag building and the Köln Cathedral. They transition to clips of different venues in both Germany and Japan, showing a highlight reel of Max Becker’s biggest offensive bump manoeuvres and wins. The highlight reel shows the Becker Brigade in their many frenzies before a CWF logo, above a ‘Signing 08/01/19’ image, is cue for the video to progress from a hype video to an interview.
Max is sat camera facing, foreground to a huge German flag with the CWF logo planted right in it’s epicentre. Otherwise, there are plain white walls and nothing else in sight. Becker’s in his wrestling attire, sweating and panting profusely as Reinhard Hansen speaks off camera with bits of static in between, almost as if this was being done over a terrible Skype connection… which it was.
RH: “Max Becker, the Backbone of Cologne… that was your last match in DRAGON Wrestling Japan and you are now a free agent. Can you put all the speculation to bed as to what’s next for you?”
MB: “Yes aitch, yes dawg. Max Becker’s hitting the states baby. The Becker Brigade better get their hands in their deep-ass pockets because I’m comin’ to Iowa. Yo, I’m inkin’ my deal, fo’ real. How many times I’ve gotta hear ‘Max ain’t doin’ it in Japan, he’ll never do it in the States’? How many times? Eighth of January, two thousand-nineteen, Wells Fargo Arena… Max Becker and all the brigaders are marchin’ on CWF baby.”
RH: “Now we know Max Becker is a blockbuster name in Germany. We know Max Becker has done well in Japan. But you come to America relatively unknown, a fresh start, is this your chance to write an entirely new chapter?”
MB: “I ain’t comin’ to America for a vacation, no. I’m bringin’ the Becker Brigade with me and we’re gonna chin check anyone and everyone that thinks they’re hard enough. I ain’t no J.K Rowling aitch, I ain’t gon’ write no book or no chapter. I’m comin’ to win. I’m comin’ to get me some of that CWF bling bling and when it’s all set and done aitch, one by one, the stars of today will be played by the brigade.”
RH: “…and in the last couple of months, incurable tension has been flaring between CWF & Hostility. Jon Stewart and James Milenko have been at war and we know Christopher St. James hasn’t been shy in flaunting his cash. What’s your stance on that?”
MB: “Nein, nein, nein… I don’t got time for politics bro. I don’t got no dollar homie and believe it, Max loves his dollar, yo. I have a meetin’ with Jon Stewart at Evolution and unless bigger dollar comes along, I’m inkin’ the dotted line he puts down in front of me.”
RH: “CWF has always tried to be kind to their rookies but luck hasn’t been on your side, Max. You open Evolution 38 against the returning mixed martial artist, Kendo. How do yo-”
Reinhard is interrupted, not because of latency problems, but simply because this question has seemingly aggravated Max somewhat, who leans in, drops his eyebrows and with one big foul swoop drags whatever recording device is in front of him much closer. Scarily closer.
MB: “Whoa aitch, nein. Du vergisst wer ich bin, hund.
Kendoooo. Ken Dawg. Bro. The Samoan wrestling machine, trained in America… what’cha doin’ with a style of Japanese wooden swordsmanship, a noun, for a name? In Europe, hund, to cross our big wooden swords isn’t a good thing bro. Typically, the bird will be lovin’ it, yo, but that shit ain’t for me!
Now listen real close Ken dawg, whether you’re from the isle of Samoa, Lisboa or even if you’re freakin’ Rocky Balboa, you chose the wrong time to return bro… ‘cause nothin’ will get in the way of my march on CWF. Not even JT Barrett, the almighty super agent, only goin’ make you complacent, dawg. All JT Barrett inkin’ yo’ deal for Evolution 38 has done is put you on route… to tap out.
This coming Tuesday, I’ll be there Ken dawg. Ready. Waitin’. Mission: Submission.
When you walk down to that ring for the big almighty return, dressed in yo’ beanie and yo’ skimpy Everlast shorts that show off your teeny weenie, don’t forget your lil’ dumb ass is goin’ up against the three-two-five pound, Backbone of Cologne, the Arzt von Tapout. Then you, Ken dawg, can say you’ve been played by the brigade.”
The interview recording is brought to an immediate halt. The camera zooms out as the tablet screen fades to black; we’re back in the 4x4. Reinhard & Jack are both applauding the shoot promo as Max is jokingly taking half-assed bows. It’s all smiles.
JB: “Yeah man, that’s great. It’s got loads of hits Max. Well done.”
MB: “Nah J hund, that’s all you bro.”
RH: “You did well Max.”
The camera continues to zoom out before transitioning to a camera off road. From a distance, it captures the 4x4 Chevrolet driving on by with the sound still being fed from within the vehicle.
JB: “Hello, America!”
MB: “Guten Tag, United States.”
The scene fades with the last visual that of the vehicle merging onto route 69. Max Becker is coming, folks.
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."