After warm ups, Maxwell Jacob Friedman usually took a little time to himself, and today was no exception. His phone in his hand, he had been planning to open up Tinder, but he found himself in that most American of hobbies… doom scrolling Twitter. God forbid anyone catch him at it… Max would deny it til the bitter end. Twitter scrolling was something poors did, and Max was certainly NOT a poor.

But sometimes Twitter could bring a smile to his face, and this? This was no exception. A meme showed up on his feed featuring a heavily tattooed guy in a moment of embarrassment, and Max's wicked mind began to turn over an idea. A certain other heavily tattooed guy was in the building, and Max never missed a chance to get a jab in at CM Punk.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Max said, approaching the Straight Edge Superstar with a smirk that said he actually loved being the bearer of bad news. "But the internet is forever, Punky Brewster... and you apparently didn't check your vacation pics before wifey posted them."

CM Punk looked up from where he'd been wrapping his wrist and took Max's offered phone to see what the hell the younger man was going on about this time. The kid's mouth was always running, but say what you will, Punk admired it. It was flattering, really, how he could hear his own influence in the shit Max talked to his opponents, and for that matter, even to his fans. The gimmick wasn't exactly the same, but Max's "I'm better than you, and you know it," drew plenty of comparisons to Punk's "Best in the world" and "Straight edge means I'm better than you."

But right now? Punk looked a little confused. "Number one… Do you even know who Punky Brewster is ? And number two… what am I supposed to be looking at?" His eyes scanned what appeared to be a goofy meme in which a naked tattooed guy on a beach was covering his dick with a hat, and making a peace sign with his free hand. The shadow the sun cast on the sand revealed that said guy wasn't exactly mainstream porn star material, and the caption read, "When your shadow betrays you."

Max didn't bother with the first inquiry. It had gotten a reaction out of Punk, and that was all he really needed from it. Max's greatest joy was getting under people's skin, and he was SO damn good at it. He smirked at the older man and pointed to the meme again. "I'm just saying… I think if that was my dick situation… I wouldn't be posting pics like that online before I double checked them."

Punk arched an eyebrow as he looked at Max, realizing what the kid was getting at. "That's… that's definitely not me, Max. And I gotta say… You're usually better at talking shit than going straight for dick jokes. I'm a little disappointed in you."

Max took a look at his phone and shrugged. "That's not you? Damn… I guess all you heavily tattooed skinny guys with small dicks kinda start to look the same after a while."

"Where did MJF find this photograph of Pepsi Phil?" asked a voice from just behind Max. Danhausen and Hook had just happened to be walking by and of course, Danhausen being Danhausen, had to be both very nice… and very evil. "Danhausen did not know that they have nude beaches in Chicago."

Punk shook his head and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose between his pointer finger and thumb. Max was snickering – the laugh of a little shit who'd just gotten his dig in a little deeper than he'd planned to. "Dude," Punk said, his voice already defeated, because at this point, what else could he really do with this ridiculous situation. "That's not me. That guy looks nothing like me."

"Danhausen is your friend," Danhausen argued. "Which means Danhausen knows how you look better than you do, Pepsi Phil. And there is simply no way that is not you." He took Max's phone and held it up in front of Hook, who gave it the same bored, uninterested glance he gave most things. "Hook, does this not appear to be a photograph of Pepsi Phil?"

Hook shrugged, clearly deciding his mouth was far better used for eating Doritos than for bothering with answering this question. Luckily (for Max at least... not so luckily for Punk), Danhausen didn't need a real answer to stride headfirst into confidence. "See? Hook agrees with Danhausen. It is Pepsi Phil in that photograph. Which, of course, Danhausen already knew, because Danhausen is a good friend."

By this point, Max was cracking up – "Even your friend can see, Punk. Let it go. Lots of women like that kinda thing. None that I've ever been with, but lots of them."

Punk shook his head. "Get out of here… All of you fuckin' assholes. That's enough." Why did dealing with his fellow adult wrestlers so very often feel like herding kindergartners through their day, but with more dick jokes and way less crayons. But once he'd managed to get them out of his way, he had to smile. Sometimes, the people he worked with were the most professional of professionals… and sometimes? MJF was a little shit.