BETTER THAN YOU

MJF's enterance interrupts CM Punk. "Doesn't feel so good, getting interrupted, does it, Punky Brewster?" Max says. "You know, quite frankly--" He pauses as the audience starts to chant "Shut the fuck up" at him. "No," he says, and continues. "Quite frankly, you really hurt my feelings last week, I extended out my hand, like a gentleman? And you really hurt my feelings, but, I mean, it was almost as bad as the time you quit, took your ball and went home like a little bitch. You know what was great, though? The Pipe Bomb. Everybody loves the Pipe Bomb, right, Chicago?" The crowd cheers in agreement. The Pipe Bomb was a famous speech that Punk gave while on WWE, calling out a bunch of people. You can watch it here.

Max nods and continues. "Yeah, my god, so good, legendary, what you would call a great promo. And I think it's fair to say, Punky, that the Pipe Bomb is your best...moment. 'Cept here's the problem, bud. Every MJF moment is the best MJF moment. Cause unlike you, I'm not a one-trick pony. And don't get it twisted, I respect you, man, I respect everything you've done, hell, I even respect the fact that you're straight edge. Granted, never in my wildest dreams could I have possibly imagined a straight edge man could look so much like a meth addict." He winces mockingly as the crowd boos. "And it must be extremely difficult to be straight edge, considering, if I had your face, I'd need to down eight shots of whiskey just to look myself in the mirror.

"But you know what I can't respect? CM?" He continues. "Is how you've handled our little situation here. And you can pretend that there isn't one, but ehhhh, there is. There is. You know, you would do all your quaint little interviews, and they would ask ya, who are some opponents you would like to go up against? And you would name every single wrestler underneath the sun, except for moi...!" Punk raises his eyebrows and nods as Max goes on. "Now you can pretend it's because you weren't interested, but in reality, it's because you didn't want none. And who could blame you, Punky, I mean, your whole entire career on the stick, you've been big fish, small pond, and standing across from me, you're just a freakin' minnow. You didn't wanna go toe to toe with me on the stick, Punk? Well, too bad. Cause I'm about to verbally finish you quicker than your UFC career." This is a reference to Punk's very brief time in the UFC.

Max shrugs, faux-innocently, and says "Whoops!" as the crowd boos him. "I heard you the first time," He says, as the crowd starts chanting CM Punk's name. "So check your watch, Papa Punk, because if you decide to retort, it won't say Clobberin' Time, it'll say Outta Time." This is a reference to how, during Punk's entrance, he always pretends to check his watch and then says "It's Clobberin' Time!" Max goes on as Punk pinches the bridge of his nose. "You can drop cute little Pipe Bombs all you want, cause I'm MJF, and I drop nukes." Punk rolls his eyes, shrugs, and goes to get a microphone as the crowd chants his name.

Punk stares at Max, and after a long pause, says "I am so disappointed in you." Max scoffs, and mouths "What?" as Punk continues. "But let's not start there, let's show our guest a little bit of Chicago hospitality: I want to thank you, first and foremost, for last week. You introduced yourself to me. That's what a proper young man is supposed to do to their elders. And I had no idea your first name was Maxwell, this entire time I thought MJF stood for My Jealous Fan." The crowd cheers and Punk smiles. "See, I got the time! Seems like it still kinda does, doesn't it? If you're so hung up on the fact that I never mentioned you anytime I did press. Anytime I ever did an interview, I never brought your name up, well, that was by design. The last thing I wanted to do was feed your rotten little ego." Punk leans forward, crouching down as he addresses Max. "Look at me, Maxwell, I'm in your head. Probably has a lot to do with the fact that there's a poster of me on your wall. Doesn't change the fact that I'm disappointed. Because I've always heard about the great MJF, and then last week, I did what nobody else in this industry, nobody else in AEW has been able to do: I shut up the great MJF, without saying a word. And you had seven days. You had a whole week to think of good zingers and you came out here with the lowest hanging fruit."

"He thinks he's somebody," Punk says as he turns to address the crowd. "He thinks what he does is revolutionary to the wrestling business, when in reality, he's just a less famous Miz." The Miz is a WWE wrestler with a similar persona to Maxwell. The crowd erupts. Max and Punk have a tense staredown until Max speaks again. "Okay, settle down, settle down, settle down," He says. "Y'know, Punky, that was really solid, I mean, really creative stuff, you know, it was...almost what I wanted. Come to think of it, that phrase, almost what I wanted, kinda perfectly encapsulates your whole entire run here thus far, dontcha think? I suppose it's true. Nostalgia..." Max is cut off by the crowd chanting "Miz" at him (though it might be "mid," it's hard to tell.) He continues: "Nostalgia is a drug that causes us to misconstrue our memories, and you, my friend, are no more than nostalgia. And guess what, bud? You were right. I was a fan! I'm not ashamed to admit it, how couldn't I have been? I mean, in this ring, on the microphone, nobody could touch you. You were the best."

"Or so I thought, Chicago," Max says, mock-wincing. "Because ever since your almighty return, you've struggled to beat the easiest of competition. And you've struggled to say, quite literally, anything of intrigue." Max leans in, pretends to smell Punk and recoils. "Oh my god, Punk. Your breath smells like shit. It's probably because you've been kissing so much ass recently. I mean, you have been robotically kissing ass all over the place. You know what? I'm gonna do a little impression of you real quick, Chicago, do you mind if I give you a quick impression?"

"It sure is great to be back here in insert name of town," Max says, mocking Punk. "I sure do love being apart of insert name of company. Gee whiz! I sure am looking forward to my matchup against insert name of opponent. Robotic 'Pucker Up' Punk." He stops the impression and starts to pace. "You've gone soft, man. Your hair's going gray... and based on your eyes, if anyone needs to Go To Sleep... it's you, bud." This is a reference to Punk's finisher, which is called Go To Sleep. "You know what, ladies and gentleman, something just hit me. This is no longer CM Punk. This is PG Punk. What happened to the guy I grew up on, man? What happened to the renegade, the ass-kicker, the outsider? Cause you might as well be coming out here preaching Hustle, Loyalty, and Respect." Those three words being John Cena's mantra.

Max pauses to have a stare-down with Punk for a few moments before going on. "Except here's the problem, PG. I can see you," He says, waving his hand in front of his face, another reference to Cena. "Hell, I can see through you, buddy. You claimed you'd only came back for the younger talent, and yet you also claimed you'd only come back for a boatload of money... You claimed you couldn't fix professional wrestling from your couch in Chicago, and yet you stayed put on that couch for seven. Long. Years. Excuse after excuse not to come back, por qué, Punk? Why? Is it because you were too busy making comic books nobody read, and movies nobody saw? Or... is it because you were terrified? Scared you couldn't hang anymore? Maybe scared you never could hang in the first place... And I'm-- I have the microphone, Chicago!" He exclaims as the crowd starts jeering.

"And I'm here to tell you," he continues. "You should be scared, man. In the other company, these people looked at you like a cult hero, because they felt you were held down. You should've been utilized and showcased as the number one guy. And now--yeah, great! And now here you are...you have all the opportunity to prove these people right...But can you? Do you people think CM Punk can do it?" The crowd erupts with cheers. "I'm glad they think that now, Punk, but are they gonne feel that way in a month, two months, a year? I don't envy you, man. But I know you envy me. And I know why you don't like me, PG Punk. I know why. It's because I represent everything about this business that you hate. I'm every single thing you hate because I was born for this. Oh yeah, I'm a clean cut professional, I'm every single wrestling analyst, promoter and pundit's wet dream, while you, on the other hand, were a scrawny, tatted up misfit from the dumpiest part of the Midwest known as Chicago." The crowd, who are in Chicago, boo him.

"You had to work your tail off to become the man you are today, and I commend you for that, but I know what keeps you up at night." Max says. "I know what eats you up inside. It's the fact that after all your hard work, all your blood, sweat, tears and sacrifice you've given this sport, deep down, you know it, and these people know it: Your whole career, you've been nothing more than second best. Whether it was the 'You Can't See Me' man or the King of Kings, you were never quite up to snuff, were you?" The You Can't See Me man is John Cena and the King of Kings is Triple H. "And I can assure you, now that you're standing in my ring, in my company, things will be no different. Because you may claim to be the Best in the World... but I'm better than you... and you know it!"

Punk and Max stare at each other, inches apart, as the crowd boos. Punk smiles and slowly picks up the microphone to respond. "There's some truth in what you just said," he begins. "Little bit. Scared? Coming back after seven years? Little bit. See, I'm not gonna lie. Not even to you, I certainly never lie to these people. I didn't know if these people would remember me. I didn't know if these people would care. I didn't know if I still had it. But trust me, I'm not scared any longer. Certainly not scared of you. Because the timing might not match up, but I was selling out Madison Square Garden when you were marking out for Rosie O'Donnell." This is a reference to Max going on a talk show as a child. "And the last time on this show, you did a song and dance, you made the New York Times! Wow!" Punk smiles condescendingly. "You wanna sing me a song right now, Maxwell? Don't worry. You're standing in the ring with a pro-fessional and you're gonna make the New York Times again, but this time it's gonna be the obituaries."

"Because you have just enrolled yourself into a college your parents cannot afford," Punk continues as Max scowls and starts to pace. "You talk too much. Yeah, just like me, back in the day, except I always backed it up, and you can't back up shit without your backup. FTR. Shawn Spears. Wardlow. That's how you get things done around here, and I never mentioned you in interviews because I never had to. I looked at AEW and I said 'Wow, that's the place I wanna be, that's the place I wanna test myself,' and I went for the heart and soul of AEW, Darby Allin, and boy, that just chews you up, doesn't it? And I beat Darby Allin. And I didn't need a ring to do it." Punk gestures towards Max's Dynamite Diamond Ring.

"You're too busy talking about how you're the most powerful of the Four Pillars, you don't even realize you've been replaced by Britt Baker." Punk says. This is a reference to a storyline I am not familiar with so just don't worry about it. "And while you think you've made some excellent points, I think you talk too much and we've wasted these people's time. They call Chicago the second city, not because there's a city that's better than it, not because there's a city that was first, and you wanna call me number two? I'll proudly wear number two with a bullet, because just like Chicago, they call us the second city because when it burned to the ground, we just built right back up on top of the smoldering embers. And who's the man around here? Who's number one? Is it you? No, I don't think so. The only way you're gonna be number one is if we all wait around long enough for Tony to have a daughter that you marry."

"Last time we were here in Chicago--and hell yeah, I'm happy to be here--I gave everybody free ice cream bars," Punk continues. "The only thing I can think that's a better welcome back gift than that is punching you in your little needle dick right here, right now." The crowd starts chanting "Needle Dick" as the two take off their jackets and get ready to brawl. But instead of fighting, Max just rolls out of the ring and leaves, to a chorus of boos and "Needle Dick" from the audience. Great start to our story!

MJF and FTR enter as commentary bickers about if Max sucks or not. ("The people love him," one says as Max slaps a sign out of a fan's hands. "I can tell..." says the other.) Sting enters, wearing a CM Punk shirt and CM Punk-themed face paint. Darby Allin skateboards into the ring, followed by CM Punk himself, who's decided to also wear face paint and Sting-themed pants. He honestly looks really silly but it's okay. Punk and Max are first up in the ring, staring at each other from opposite corners, waiting for the bell to ring. They circle each other, but before anyone even gets a hit in, Max tags in Dax, and Dax and Punk start the match properly.

The match goes pretty normally, but everytime a tag happens that forces Punk and Max to fight each other, Max either immediately tags out, or he leaves the ring and runs away. At one point he even runs fully into the crowd as Punk chases him. It's a good match! It goes back and forth in terms of who's up, it doesn't feel like a complete steamroll, but MJFTR still get their asses kicked pretty bad. Max hides in the timekeeper's table for a good bit. Punk gets the pin on Dax Harwood and wins the match for his team! The big important takeaway is that Punk won and Max literally ran away from him the whole time.

Backstage with MJF and The Pinnacle (32:12)

At AEW's New Year's Smash, Max films a backstage segment with Shawn Spears and Wardlow, addressing the tension with CM Punk. "Hey." He says with a smile. Behind him, Wardlow sits on a sofa and Shawn Spears holds a steel chair with a Burberry plaid pattern on it. "It's me. One of the biggest ratings draws in all of professional wrestling. Don't believe me? Google it. And today, we're going to talk about unsafe working conditions. You see, last week I was thrown over the top rope with reckless abandonment by that untrained outlaw hack, Sting. Seriously, does anybody know who trained that guy?" He turns to Spears, who says, "I don't." I don't really know the match he's referencing but it doesn't really matter.

"Yeah. Cause he wasn't." Max continues. "The man was revered when he should've been released, and I can assure you, if I was working for a much more professional wrestling company, things like this wouldn't happen to me. But I suppose that's a conversation that needs to be had as we get closer to the bidding war of 2024." Meaning, once Max's contract is up in 2024, all the wrestling companies are going to try and sign him. I think that's what he means, at least.

"CM Punk," Max says, chuckling a little. "You claimed you wanted a piece of me, you claim you're a man of the people, and yet... The people wanna see us go at it more than anything, and you refuse to give that to 'em. You stayed away from me the entire match, like a gutless coward. Well guess what, Punky? I'm over it! You're yesterday's news. You were merely a distraction from my ultimate goal, and that is for me to hold Pretty Platinum." His little nickname for the AEW title belt. This whole time, Spears is nodding and hyping him up in the background.

"But why settle there?" He asks, then turns to Wardlow. "War-Dog. I'm gonna need you to stop chasing the hug on that cute little Powerbomb Symphony you're doing, and just start chasing some dubs so you can qualify for the Face of the Revolution Ladder Match, where the winner gets a shot at the TNT title, which I know you'll win, big man. You're great. But when you win it...you're gonna need to relinquish it to me." "What's that?" Wardlow asks, and MJF gives him a little slap on the thigh. "Okay, I had a feeling this would happen," Max says, turning to Shawn. "Spearsy, Smart Mark's just right outside, can you grab him?" Spears leaves to go get Mark (who basically just has the contract that Wardlow signed to Max).

"This guy--what is this?" Wardlow asks, pointing at Spears as he leaves. "It's just--it's in the contract, buddy! You signed it--" Max insists as Spears returns with Mark, who says "Right here in the contract, Section 3, Article 13B: I, Wardlow, hereby acknowledge that in exchange for employment with MJF LLC and full Pinnacle membership privledges, all services provided under this contract are considered work for hire, and as such, all merchandise, royalties, intellectual property created or concieved, and championships won or collected as product for my efforts, immediately and forever in perpetuity the property of Maxwell Jacob Friedman. Always have a plan, right Max? Just like I have a plan for Jade to win the TBS championship." "Cool. Spears?" Max says. "Disappear." Spears says to Mark. "No problem," Mark says, and leaves. Don't worry about him or the Jade stuff just focus on the whole Wardlow being under contract for MJF thing.

Max claps and keeps talking. "Though, in the meantime, starting next week, I myself am gonna start ranking up and getting some Ws so I can become, not just the TNT champion, but the AEW World Champion. Why?" He pauses and smiles. "Because my name is Maxwell Jacob Friedman. And I'm better than you." He kisses his ring. "And you know it."

CM Punk's promo (1:06:43)

Punk enters the ring as the commentators rip into MJF for running away the week prior. "I've never been to Daily's Place, I don't even know what the setup is. Where's Jim Ross?" Punk starts. Daily's Place is the area they're in and Jim is a commentator. "Yknow, I come out here, and I immediately get to thinking how awesome it is to see you back here sitting at that booth. You're the best to ever do it, I'm glad you're back to work, and it's awesome to see you. Thank you." Jim Ross says "Thank you, sir." Punk continues: "I'm all about giving people their flowers when they deserve it now, because I give Jim his flowers, and then I get to thinking about this place. And I've never been here, but this has been a home for AEW, and it gets me thinking about Brodie Lee." That's just another wrestler. Don't worry about him.

"And if there's anybody out there who says anything to try and minimize the impact that that man had, it just makes me feel sorry for them, because it means they never met him." He continues. "I sat at home, and I watched the tribute show to my friend from this place, and it made me wanna come here. So then I get to thinking about...maybe somebody who's not worth my time. Maybe somebody who...doesn't wanna be here. And speaking of internet trolls, yeah, I'm talking about MJF. MJF--" The crowd boos. "--is a Twitter troll in the flesh. He is somebody who talks a big game, but when it comes down to it, he don't say that stuff to your face. He hides behind a keyboard or... Dax and Cash." Dax and Cash being FTR.

"I saw it with my own eyes last week, you saw it with your own eyes last week. Somebody who's smart enough to say that the people wanna see CM Punk get his hands on MJF...but is also stupid enough to say something that he's as good as Roddy Piper in Portland. When Roddy Piper laced up his wrestling boots, and we all saw last week, MJF laced up his running shoes, didn't he? Yeah. I'm not sure if you guys heard, but MJF says he's done with me. Honestly, I'm fine with that! I got to team with the legend, Sting, I got to team with Darby Allin, and we beat FTR and MJF. So hey, I understand if MJF is afraid, if MJF is scared, if he don't want none, he doesn't have to have none. I myself am looking towards bigger and better things. I heard him say it, too. He's talking about the gold. He's talking about becoming the AEW champion. Jim Ross will attest to this: you always hear people say, if you don't wanna be the champion, you probably shouldn't be here, and that's true! I wanna be champion, too." The crowd cheers.

"There's beginnings and there's endings," he continues. "And being here, CM Punk, first time in Daily's Place, the place that has been so good to AEW, the last Dynamite on TNT, we're moving to TBS, there's bigger and there's brighter things on the horizon for CM Punk. So MJF, you are a waste of my time, and you are an even bigger waste of con money than Tim Tebow." This gets a huge pop. "So I'll leave you all with this. I don't--I never wanted to mess with MJF! But he found out the hard way that on this mic, that in this ring, even at commentary, nobody can touch me. And if he wants to climb that ladder and get some Ws to get to AEW gold, well, I imagine, sooner or later, I'll see him again in this ring. But, it'd be a real shame if somebody interfered with his quest for gold." And on that ominous note, he leaves the ring.

MJF enters the ring to a chorus of boos. He yells at a fan with a "Best In The World" sign and then flips everybody else off. The bell rings as Max and Shawn face off, but before either one can get a hit in, CM Punk runs out and dives into the ring. MJF immediately runs away from him, leaving the ring. He mocks Punk a little and yells at the crowd as they start chanting Punk's name. But instead of attacking Max, Punk turns around and hits Shawn with a low blow and a GTS (Go To Sleep). The winner of the match is announced to be Shawn Dean, due to disqualification, since Punk technically interfered on Max's behalf. Max is furious, yelling angrily at Punk, the crowd, the ref, everyone.

Punk grabs a microphone and addresses Max: "This is your future, this happens every single time you step into the ring until you step in the ring with me, you little bitch!" Max gets a mic and responds: "Okay, it's bad enough I am currently inside this cesspool known as Herpes-infested New Jersey!" "Hey, hey, don't harp on them!" Punk says. "They're winners, you just lost! It's gonna be real hard to fight for a title when you keep losing!"

"Okay, okay, you wanna talk about being a loser?" Max says. "Everything that comes outta your mouth is fake. Everything that comes outta your mouth is fake and induces boredom. The only thing--" He pauses as the crowd starts chanting "Shut the fuck up." "No-no-no-no-no, no. You came out here last week, and you said you were done with this, you said you wanted to focus on becoming a world champion, and now look at you, where are ya? Right back where you started. You wanna know why? You might have these schmucks convinced you're a big deal, but I know the truth. And the truth is, deep down, you know without me, you're nothin'. I give you an edge! I put a chip on your shoulder, I make you relevant. ("I can call bullshit on that," says commentary.)

"And for you to come out here," He continues. "For you to come out here and claim that I'm a waste of money? When you're the guy who sold Tony Khan and all of these people nothing more than a bill of goods." Tony Khan is the president/CEO of AEW. "You ain't the guy you used to be, Punk. You ain't the savior these people have been waiting for. But you know who is? Maxwell Jacob Friedman." The crowd boos. "And by the way? By the way? I think it's really interesting you have such a problem with me saying I'm like Roddy Piper, you really got offended when I drummed up that comparison. So I'm just curious, PG Punk, do-- do you think..." Max cringes a little as the crowd starts chanting "PG Punk." "Do you think... you're Roddy Piper? Because the last time I checked, unlike you, Piper was actually talented enough to Main Event a Wrestlemania." Wrestlemania is a big event at WWE, and as of this time, Punk had never been the Main Event.

The crowd erupts in a combination of cheers and boos. Punk laughs as Max smiles smugly. "Whoa, whoa, guys, I know it's complicated, but I'm holding the microphone, so maybe shut up? I dunno." Max says to the crowd. "And by the way? If I'm not starting to be shown the proper respect around here? Maybe I'll Main Event a Mania, too." ("God, he sucks," says commentary as Punk bursts out laughing, doubling over.) "What're you laughing at, dipshit?" Max snaps as Punk recovers enough to respond: "All I'm trying to do is kick your ass," he says. "So how bout you stop talking and get in the ring. I'll do it right here, right now in New Jersey. You ran from me, you hid behind FTR, alls I wanna do is give you the beating you deserve. And listen, pal, if you think the grass is so greener on the other side, be my guest! Go ahead, leave, Main Event night 4 of a buy-one-get-one-free extravaganza and then get released faster than you last in the sack. When you come back, I'll still be here, and that ass-kicking will be waiting for ya."

"Is that right?" Max yells. "Yeah? You wanna piece of me, Punk? You want the match? You people want the match? You want the goddamn match?! Well, listen here, you son of a bitch, next week, it's gonna be CM Punk...versus Wardlow." Punk sighs in disappointment as Max walks away. "I don't need it," Max says, without the microphone, as he leaves "I'm better than you. I'm better than you." He turns to someone in the crowd and says "I don't need your help, fat boy. I don't need your help." The crowd starts to chant "Bullshit," and Punk picks up the microphone again. "The difference between myself, Roddy Piper, and a worm like you, is me and Piper would fight anybody, anytime. So bring on Wardlow, eventually, you're gonna run outta people to hide behind. And I'm gonna put you to sleep."

CM Punk vs Wardlow (10:43)

MJF is ringside for Wardlow and the two enter together. Punk and Max glare at each other before the match starts. For most of the match, Wardlow kind of beats the shit out of Punk while Max looks on, smiling and clapping. Max is able to distract Punk a little bit, which lets Wardlow Powerbomb him, leading to a Powerbomb Symphony (which is just a bunch of Powerbombs over and over. It's Wardlow's finisher, I'm pretty sure?). Wardlow hits him with five, then goes for the pin, but Max stops him and demands that he Powerbomb him again and again. Once again Max stops Wardlow and demands he Powerbomb Punk through the timekeeper's table. When Punk crawls back into the ring, Max demands more. But as Wardlow goes for another Powerbomb, Punk is able to reverse the hold and pine Wardlow for the victory.

Max and Wardlow are both furious with each other. As Punk lies on the floor, recovering, Max starts berating Wardlow, saying that he'll never win the big match, and shoving him. Wardlow grabs Max's wrist hard, forcing him to back off, and Max starts panicking. As tensions rise, Shawn Spears gets in between the two, trying to calm Wardlow down. He mostly diffuses the situation, but Wardlow still storms off in a huff.

MJF's Reaction (44:27)

Max interrupts the commentators, who are discussing something entirely different. He furiously shouts "nah" over and over. "I hate to interrupt this program," He yells. "Even though I'm the only real star on it! You keep your hillbilly mouths shut while I'm talking!" He yells at the crowd, which boos him. "CM Punk? I know you're backstage right now, and I know you're in a world of pain. You, you won, congratulations, but you got--" He's cut off by the crowd chanting "asshole" at him. "But you got Powerbombed to oblivion! I know it, you know it, and all these schmuck hicks know it: that you got a fluke victory over an oaf tonight! Well, guess what? You ain't winning next week, no, I'm gonna personally make sure next week, you take your first L in AEW! Next week, I'm gonna give you the match you've all been waiting for. No more running! No more hiding! You want the match? You want the match? Next week, it's CM Punk versus Shawn Spears!" He storms away.

Coming soon!

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