Post by Cody on Jun 7, 2010 19:17:12 GMT -5
... When I feel the snake bite enter my veins
[/center]The camera zoomed in staring at a man curled up on the ground with his knees up and his hands over them. His head in between his knees and raised back up staring to the left of him through a gate stretching above his head. Small little holes stretching the entire way up then lines of barbed wire on the top. It was as dark as it could be, the darkest night the area had seen in a while and the only light you saw from what appeared to be an empty alleyway was a faint light on the other side of the gate. Most likely one of a street lamp in the distance. The man, CM Punk, just sat there looking around now with a lip ring in and his hair down to his face. He looked unaffected by the world and not seeming to care really about anything. His face was determined but he just examined his surroundings, every little aspect of detail, he soaked it all in and shook his head. The camera solely based on him as he turned to look directly into it. A smile came across the cleanly shaven face where a long beard used to be a couple of months ago when he was signed to the Smackdown brand.
A feud with Vince McMahon's son, the billion dollar son and a feud with then the General Manager of the so-called second rate show, Bret 'The Hitman' Hart. Shane McMahon then took everything that Punk had going his way, an opportunity at the World Heavyweight Championship and his United States Championship. He even ruined the stable he had thrown together called the Straight Edge Society and ripped its members from his control. It all led down to the No Mercy pay-per-view for Monday Night Raw, where all three of the members would receive the boot from the company's head honcho, Vince Kennedy McMahon. All of them except Punk though would not return, the former great was deprived of his championship, his dreams, and a society that was expected to lead the brand to supremacy. He made his return to the World Wrestling Empire unexpectedly to the Raw brand the very next week and instantly won his first match making him the number one contender for the WWE Championship. Just like the previous opportunity though, it would be ruined by yet another management figure, this time being Vince McMahon who made a tournament for the WWE Championship. Punk would prove to be the best he still could be and he put out the then champion Undertaker out of action vacating the title and making the tournament, not just a number on contendership tourney, but one to claim a new champion.
He stands back up on his feet and puts his head up high staring down the camera man like he is ready to attack. A deep stare, for no evident reason and he shakes his head once again caught up in thought. Punk brushes off his faded blue jeans with three rips going down the right side. His shirt covering the pants with the bones of a rib cage and a hart inside of it. CM Punk written all over the back in big bold letters with a design, his two wristbands on there below the writing. Those same taped up hands on on his wrists and the X on each one written differently with a red marker this time. He paces to the right and moves his eyes to the gate. His voice opened up to a slow talk as he spoke in a convincing way.
"Over the course of my Thy WWE career here, I have been screwed and tossed around like the rag doll, and let me assure you that I don't deserve it. While people like Randy Orton, Judas Mesias, and Triple H, they are given the chance of a lifetime right after joining it seems. The chance to step in the ring with the greatest and purest wrestler in the entire world, me. Something that very few people get but Vince McMahon, I guess he gets a little chuckle out of seeing me lose everything just like his son does. I guess it's just like what they say, like father, like son. Me though, that phrase has never really hit me or came into effect. My father, he was more of the alcoholic. The kind of guy who liked to close down the bar, drink all day long, and his watch never left the five o'clock mark. The only words that he ever spoke to me were words of scorn or to tell me to grab him another beer from the fridge. Typical man in this world anymore today, the typical guy whose only big decision to make is Miller Genuine or Mike's Hard Lemonade? Just like everyone else who attends these shows and events and tries to boo me for how I am, how I am correct and right. They try and get inside my mind and spread their drunk theories to me, but I am the only one in there that can control myself. I am the only one with a clear mind, because I choose not to hurt myself with these narcotics and dangerous drugs to threaten me or put my body at risk. So this Monday, all it is, is a new chance to make something even greater of myself. The only difference, is that I can't be screwed one way or another, because this time. The belt will finally be in my possession after so long. "
He keeps walking, this time extending his hand out to touch the gate as he walks by. His face now emotionless and his talking still slow and lackadaisical. Suddenly another smirk came across and he laughed this time in an almost sarcastic way.
"First we have Triple H, the longest guy in the match to be signed to this damned company and you could probably say the most experienced. Coincidentally though, he is also the first to beat me in action for reasons that I don't understand and above all of that. He is the least of my worries. Just because he has spread his seed across the entire locker room in the back full of divas doesn't give him any experience in my book. And what has the man done besides that? Won an Intercontinental Championship? Good for him, I mean really, you deserve a round of a applause for that mediocre accomplishment that I am sure stands out as the greatest milestone in your has-been career. Tell me, what makes you think that you're so damn qualified to be called 'World Champion'? Have you ever been the number one contender here before? Have you ever accomplished anything here that doesn't require half a bag viagra? No, the only thing that you've done is impregnate the lovely Mickie James and take handouts of pills and drugs to keep yourself in 'top shape' in the ring. You were apart of the Ministry, you were a moron of a leader and you always lived in the shadow of The Undertaker, didn't you? Well then you're in luck. Because on Raw, I am going to give you a brand new shadow to live in, the shadow of the Straight Edge Messiah. Don't take it too hard though 'champ', remember, you can always go home to the same old empty house, call up your little wave of cheap hookers from the diva roster. Sip your vodka and go to sleep on the dreams of what could have been."
Now half way down the iron fence's length, he stops to glance once behind him and keeps walking. A brief pause in his preach about the upcoming match and then after a moment of silence, he continues on with his rant picking up with the next opponent.
"What next, but Judas Mesias. The goth guy who has been just about everywhere in Mexico for independent wrestling and then in the rival TNA company. Whose biggest break was coming out like a rip off of The Undertaker. Another mark of the Phenom who made it to wrestling with apparently one goal in mind, be exactly like him. Congratulations my friend, because Monday, you will finally get your dream. Just like the Undertaker, you are going to wind up out of action in a hospital bed with the wounds and marks given to you from me. A better superstar, it's just human nature though, I mena what do you expect? Take a good look in the mirror Judas, looks like you are on something other than an occasional sleeping pill so you can sleep knowing that you have screwed up in life. No, you like your entire family, are on everything that the Mexicans can deal out to you. Funny that you would have such a desire to wrestle there, even when there is a massive on-going drug war raging on there. Which side are you on, my guess is not on the cops. But don't threat my friend, I can still save you. There is help out there and I am willing to give you my guidance in this world. All you have to do is just drop out now and I won't have to hurt you. You won't have to take those pain pills anymore because I can heal you. Or... I can make it worse. It's your choice Mesias, because life... it always comes with options. I know your education can't be anywhere above a third grade reading level so it's time to give you a new lesson. A lesson in Health and common sense. What you're doing to your body is bad, and if you had any common sense at all, you would accept my offer and just step down before I have to endanger you more. I can either guide you the natural way through a volunteering way, or I can do it my way and just put you to... sleep."
The end of the fence nearing in the distance, you can now make out the road and a few flashes of car lights through the edge of the camera. A slight rain comes down on the ground, no more than a drizzle developing into a storm and a single crack of lightning in the sky. Punk keeps moving and edging towards the end. He takes his last pause and continues with a faster pace now in his voice.
"Last but certainly not least, we have 'The Viper'. Randy, Randy, Randy, you are hard headed as always. Some old guy in a suit offers you some money and boom, you make these decisions impromptu without a single thought. Like accepting a match against someone of my potential and of my quality. A career suicide move, of all the dumb-asses in the wrestling sport, Randy Orton stands alone. And then to even bring his wife into play? Randy, I'll only give you one hint because there is no saving that stubborn mental brain of yours, don't let Samantha watch the show this week. Take the baby out of the house and go to her mothers, because it's going to be a brutal sight. Viper, a very powerful reptile indeed. It sinks its venom into his opponent and digs in deep with the fangs. The venom enters the blood stream, and all of that starts with a accurate movements and a slithering wait. He waits for his very moment to pounce and then strikes with a deadly kill. Let me just tell you something though Orton, I'm just as familiar with the snake. On my arm, the cobra logo, from the GI Joe series. Among all of my tattoos, it may stand out the most and Monday, it's going to mean something to you. Because whenever I win that Fatal Four Way match for the WWE Championship, the only thing some snake has to do with that prestigious title, is going to be that ink on my upper arm. You want any more reason other than my natural athletic ability? How about the simple fact that I have the desire and momentum to win this championship. Have you ever felt how it feels to lose everything you have and to be forced into starting over? Do you have any idea what it feels like to be forced to just drop a number one contendership that was supposed to be your chance to reign down on all of the Thy WWE Wrestling Empire? You soon will find out, because for the first time ever in your short career your going to feel how it feels to not have something you want. For the first time ever in this company, I am going to stand strong with the knowledge that I am the first ever and the last Straight Edge WWE Champion."
He reached the end of the gate and the weather is now pouring out of the sky on the dark night, The cars have stopped coming in both directions and it has become even darker now. He stands there with his eyes shut tight, looking up with a smile. After months of being pushed down to the bottom, CM Punk has a chance to rise above all and be claimed the greatest superstar that Thy WWE has to offer on its flagship program. The man who put the Undertaker out of action and the only Straight Edge man on the roster. Not just a lifestyle, not just a mood, but now a championship wearing way of life. He looked up at the sky, eyes shut, and extended his arms out to the side. And the camera faded... to dark.
