(Insert Something About Love Title Here) Vs M.A.N.

The Rittenhouse Philadelphia Hotel
Events Room
2/10/22

PWI Reporter: What was it like in prison?

Piledriver Wrestling Magazine Reporter: Did you ever kill someone in prison?

Ringside Wrestling Magazine Reporter: How does the family of your victim feel about your release and this unbelievable return to wrestling at such an age?

Maw Johnson blinks slowly amid the barrage of questions. She can’t believe this shit. Her aged peepers scour the room containing some of pro wrestling’s renowned magazine and social media reporters. The camera flashes popping off every other second is getting on her last cotton-pickin’ nerve.

Her eyes travel to her super cute grandgirl, Camilla, and she accuses the young dynamo without saying a word. Nonetheless Camilla beams an infectious smile and urges her granny to make the most of the media scrum set up by the rest of the gang as a surprise for her.

Maw Johnson: I gave up my 2 o’clock nap to come here and do this booshit, and all you saw-jawed reporters can do is ask me about prison. I gotta save prison stuff for that obligated promo booshit rasslers gotta do now-n-days. To answer your one question, Mr. Shit-for-brains, I hope the family of my piece of shit husband feel thankful that I killed him. Now why don’t yall ask me some other type of questions?

A slew of questions inundate the cranky Arkansan. She randomly points to one of the reporters way in the back.

Maw Johnson: Glad you asked that. These peeps are my crew. Let me officially introduce yall to the Nation of Incarceration.

She gestures to the big black badass to her right, who sports a simple black shirt that reads: ENFORCER!

Maw Johnson: This here is A-Block. He got his name from owning the entire A-Block of gen pop up in ADOC. Held that shit for six years. Ain’t nobody done that before or since. His momma was my celly for a stint. Damn fine woman. I took care of her, so now he’s gonna take care of me.

Maw jabs a thumb over shoulder toward the distinguished man in a suit, who unleashes an epic laugh that could fit into any movie or music soundtrack.

Maw Johnson: That’s Mr. Green. Found him through an old celly of mine who I linked up with after getting out. He’s sly. He knows his way around the business side of things. He’s got some money. Don’t ask how he gets it, he won’t even tell granny-dearest here.

Mr. Green grins and sports some shifty eyes as Maw looks over her left shoulder and up to the mega-cute young lady who’s excitedly clapping her hands really fast and smiling impossibly big.

Maw Johnson: This is my grandgirl, Camilla. Her momma learned her rasslin’. I’ve learned her some too since I got out. She’s the key to me gettin’ that World Wide Wrestling World Champeenship I got robbed of 38 years ago. Camilla keeps me on my toes. Wonderful girl, and fellas? She’s single.

Camilla can’t contain herself and smothers her granny in a big ole hug. Everyone awws and claps, except for the reporter in the back who Maw extracted the question from. He looks around confused and can be heard saying “BUT THAT’S NOT THE QUESTION I ASKED. HEY! WHAT?”

Maw moves on when she hears a question referencing why Savannah is the only one who would let Maw wrestle on her show with the Freebird Rule.

Maw Johnson: Ask Savannah. All I know is when I sat down with her to discuss it, she looked me in the eye like I was a fuckin’ rassler. She didn’t look at me with sympathy or pity or disgust like others did. She talked to me like I was a rassler, not like I was decrepit. I’m surprised Mr. Green got the Freebird Rule to stick but hey, I’ll need it at some point. I may be lit and fit for my age, but I’m still old as fuck.

Her phone beeps. She checks it and motions the crew to roll out.

Maw Johnson: Doctor’s appointment, gotta go.

She pulls a cigarette from her FUBU tracksuit and sparks it as they exit. The folks in the room are miffed by the sudden departure, and some wonder if Maw’s already losing her marbles since she voiced interest in winning a championship which hasn’t existed in decades.



Unknown Location
2/12/22

Despite Camilla’s efforts to do a super cool scene location for Maw’s vignette, the cranky old lady has quelled it. Maw’s old school, you see. So when the scene opens, it’s a simple set up. A mundane wall bearing the Project: Underground colors and logo. The foreground of the shot is the Nation of Incarceration members, with Maw centered and sporting an old lady stank face for the ages.

”It’s been damn near four decades since I’ve been in the ring and this is what rasslin' came to? Promoters are havin’ to hold rasslers hands with promo prompts cause they have the personality of a fuckin’ mop? I wanna holler at you viewer folks about my story and prison life, but they tellin’ me I gotta talk about love. Buncha booshit I say. Well, I ain’t doin’ it. Maybe my grandgirl here can yap a while bout it. Go on now, talk to the fine folks.”

The cute 22 year old is taken aback for a moment. She scrambles to find words as her face turns a red hue complemented by a heavily dimpled smile.

”Uhhhh, like, love is love. It’s, um, like the greatest emotion. Love is having the audacity to be beautiful even when everything around you is ugly. Love is melting like an ice sculpture every time you hear the vibrations of your boyfriend’s voice. Love is your heart playing hopscotch in your chest every time you see your boyfriend’s number on your screen. Lov-”

Maw shushes her with a gesture.

”I’ve changed my mind. I’ll play the stupid love game. I’ve only loved 178 times - Rasslin’, my daughter Lara, my grandgirl Camilla, Mr. Green, A-Block, my husband, and every one of the 172 stab wounds I pierced my piece of shit husband with. I enjoyed stabbing that son-of-a-fuck. Hell, I got off on it! It gave me an orgasm that limp dick cheese monkey never could have. Heh. Anyway, about love. Love is havin’ death show up at my cell door and me yellin’ ‘not tonight motherfucka, I’m gonna be the world wide rasslin’ champeen someday.’ Love is survivin’ prison shanks, yard brawls, assaults from guards, shitty food, and shitters that don’t work for 38 fuckin’ years - just so I can come back to my one true love - my one and only something - professional rasslin’.”

Camilla, the sweetie of the bunch, is moved by Maw’s spiel and gives her a loving squeeze on the shoulder.

”Love is sacrificing rasslin’ and 38 years of my life to ensure my daughter doesn't get abused by her father. There ya go, Savannah. There’s ya love talk. Now that we have that booshit out the way, let me holler at you rasslers for a spell.”

Maw sparks up a phat Philly blunt.

”What’s yalls major malfunction? Y’all are treating rasslin’ like it's the golden apple tree. Y’all stand under its shade and hope one of the golden apples will fall your way. Well, we in the Nation of Incarceration ain’t doin’ that shit. We’re takin’ a chainsaw to that sum-beech and cuttin’ it down. We takin’ what we want and there ain’t a dayum thang y’all can do bout it. If y’all want some die-rection, come see ole Maw. We’ll get ya geared up and claud-hoppin’ these popinjays quick, fast, and in a hurry.”

Camilla squeals excitedly and claps, which irritates the Bad Granny enough to shoot her a warning glance.

”Now let’s get down to tha nitty gritty and piddle with Marc A-a-ron Newton for a spell.”

She takes a huge toke off the phat Philly blunt and passes it off. She holds the residual in as she mulls over her opponent, then cough-laughs.

”Let me tell ya somethin’ ya slapass sum-beech. You spent a year in jail for a booshit tax charge and you came out of lockup with a weakened mentally? Dafuq? I spent 38 years in state prison kiddo, and I came out with a stronger mind and body. How dafuq did you get rougher and tougher physically in jail but then get your nose broken by Meatball? I got shanked half a dozen damn times while I was in the big house. I’ve got as many scars as I do wrinkles from the shit I went through in lock up. Boy, lemme tell ya somethin’... ya better come correct in our shindig because if not I’m gonna leave you lookin’ like six miles of broken road. I’ll wallop you so hard your cock-eyed girlfriend’s eyes will go straight””

Granny’s so peeved about Marc’s luxury resort stay in prison that her dentures suddenly come flying out and fall toward the floor. Camilla and A-Block ‘MEEP’ in unison and do diving football catches. Luckily Camilla nabs it and the two frantically shove them back in her mouth as Mr. Green takes the lead to keep things rolling.

”BAHAHAHAHA! Mr. Newton, you’ll have to excuse the vivacious Granny Maw here. She’s cranky and rightfully so. Be that as it may be, allow me to extend an olive branch of sorts. You’ve done some great things with M.A.N. Global. You know your way around money and business. You know how to market yourself. Even if one of your three wins came because of a random Joseph Blaze appearing and snuffing out your opponent, I can still respect that. Maw even respects that, although she may not think too highly of you currently. So, what do you say about doing some business together after Maw gets done pedaling you pillar to post this Tuesday in 2300 Arena? You love money. We love money. You love wrestling. We love wrestling. You love challenges in the business world. We love challenges too. After Maw beats you Tuesday night, things will be water under the bridge. Trust me. Let us know if you want to roll.”

Mr. Green belts an impressive laugh and adjusts his ostentatious money themed suit. Maw waves them off and nudges A-Block to get some words in while she’s still dealing with her dentures.

”Yo check it, sucka.”

The burly enforcer slams his bowling ball of a fist into open palm.

”Word from the birds is that you been calling in some homies from over the big pond lately. No doubt they gonna be lurking when Maw’s out there doing her thang. You betta recognize we ain’t no clerk you can rang-a-bang and bury in a desert. If yall pull up like that on Maw, we gonna split that wig and canoe those pretty boy shit-flaps. Beli-”

”And lemme tell ya somethin’ else, Marc. Maw ambles back into the fray of words, completely cutting off A-Block.

”I didn’t sit on my ass for 38 years in prison. I was clangin’ and bangin’ in the gym yard. I ain’t no discount coffee granny. I’m old but I can go. And if I ever see I can’t go, I’ll Freebird my grandgirl in and she’ll go buck wild on some ass. Oh and if that dish-water blonde of yours butts in, well, heh-heh, A-Block here will show her what a real man feels like.”

Maw points a wrinkled finger at the lens as they all just laugh and laugh and laugh until the scene goes to black.