July 11, 2011

John hadn't seen or spoken to Punk since their phone call. They were still finishing up the overseas tour and then there hadn't been any house shows scheduled since his return to the states.

But tonight was Monday and Punk should be in the arena. Should be was the key word because no one had seen Punk yet that night. John had checked the locker rooms and the common areas but Punk was nowhere to be found. He had quietly asked some of his friends if they had seen him but no one had. He just hoped they chocked his questions up to his competitive nature. The show was starting in minutes, had something happened since last Monday?

He got his answer when Punk's music hit. He hurried to a set of monitors. "This Fire Burns" was still playing but Punk wasn't coming out onto the ramp. This wouldn't be the first time in the WWE that someone's music had been cued up and no one came out.

And then Punk strolled out…with, oh Jesus Christ, a megaphone…and a smile. Punk actually looked happy to be there opposed to his mood during his last visit to Raw. That wasn't the only thing that had changed. There were noticeably more fans chanting for Punk than there had been two weeks ago. It seemed that Punk asserting his 1st Amendment rights on national television had turned the heads of the WWE Universe.

Punk entered the ring and asked for a mic. Then he motioned for something else and the ring tech handed Punk his headset. Punk was threatening the production techs not to cut his microphone again. What in the hell had happened in a week where Punk went from being suspended to having total freedom to do whatever he wanted.

"What in the hell is going on here?"

"Haven't you heard? CM Punk is the messiah of professional wrestling. His promo is now the stuff of legends," Kofi said standing slightly behind him. "Don't you visit the sites online?"

"No. The internet and I are not pals. I'm not exactly popular with the internet wrestling community."

"That I get but CM Punk is now their heroic poster boy, standing up to the man and all that." Kofi turned around waving at John Morrison and Evan Bourne who had just walked up.

"Great we didn't miss anything," Evan exclaimed.

"I guess you've joined the CM Punk bandwagon?" Kofi asked.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I have. That promo was EPIC!"

"Oh stop fangirl-ing him, he's starting," Morrison said giving Evan a little elbow shove to press his point.

John was a little uncomfortable watching Punk with the other wrestlers. Sometimes the smallest things could lead to a decidedly not for public reaction. And then there were the things that always set him off.

Sitting Indian style is something that should remind you of kindergarten sitting on a rug sipping from a juice box. Punk sitting Indian style always brought out a decidedly non-innocent reaction in John.

As Punk started speaking he still had that grin on his face. You could actually see his teeth. And now his thoughts were taken up with thinking about Punk's smart mouth and what he could do with it. He really needed to find a place with less traffic before he embarrassed himself in front of his co-workers. It would just add one more log to the "John's gone mental" flame that had begun up when he started fighting on Punk's behalf. Del Rio had been shooting him venomous looks since he had arrived tonight, probably with good reason. He had basically gone out and nullified his #1 Contendership.

Punk had obviously not learned his lesson and he was recapping what happened two weeks ago and repeating, in detail, all the things that he said to get him suspended in the first place. Did the production team want to be fired along with Punk for letting this continue? The megaphone was pretty hilarious though.

Oh, so that's what had happened during the past week. Vince had been trying to negotiate with Punk…and John thought that murderous look on the Chairman's face from earlier tonight had been just for him. Obviously Vince read the internet too.

Vince was going to let Punk practically burn the arena down around them just to get his signature, a signature that would probably come with a tight leash and an exclusive starring role on Superstars.

And now Punk's outbursts had a brand name…pipe bomb. And he was dropping them left and right. When he said that one of the only reasons besides himself gets the WWE in mainstream media is when someone dies you could have heard a pin drop backstage. He had reacquainted himself with the point of no return and just skipped on past it. The crowd certainly didn't seem to mind. The volume of the CM Punk chants seemed to have doubled in the last 8 minutes.

Straight from the twisted mind of CM Punk, the live contract negotiation was announced, and somewhere near Vince McMahon a lamp was breaking.

"John, just let us know when you want to go out," said the production tech that walked up to him.

"Go out."

"Yes. CM Punk told us that you would be joining him in the ring."

"Oh, uh, yes that's right. Cue up my music."

John walked to the ring trying to keep a straight face. He was caught between having something that felt suspiciously like the first date jitters and laughing at this whole situation. When he got to ringside Punk was yelling at him with the megaphone which was up against the mic amplifying the sound…something about his music being too loud. The WWE had turned into reality television and no one knew what the hell might happen.

"Hey everybody its John Cena! Thank you. Thank you for getting me reinstated to a job I didn't really want in the first place." John knew that to be an outright lie. He could of just stayed suspended and leave it at that but that was not what he had done because here he was, back in a WWE ring and given the freedom to say whatever he wanted.

"Thank you for giving me everything that I have ever wanted." If he could take that comment out of context it would be lovely.

Punk was practically reassuring him in the ring that when he left with the title John would still have a job. Punk thought he was too important to the WWE to lose.

When it was John's turn to talk he was sort of disappointed. This funny, coy, slightly manic Punk was fun.

John Cena knew he couldn't make jokes; oh he tried and mostly failed spectacularly. What he could do was talk straight. He didn't want to leave anyone in confusion; he was retaining his title come Sunday no matter what pro-CM Punk tirades might have gone on the week before. He also wanted to make clear that he thought what Punk was doing was wrong. Taking the belt and fleeing the state? It was a jackass maneuver.

Okay, he's trying to make an impassioned speech about all the wrestlers he's beaten to get his hands on the title, but that's pretty hard to do when Punk was six inches away smirking, which was pretty adorable he had to admit.

"I think I'm coming to Chicago at Money in the Bank to whip your ass," the patented Cena response to end a conversation.

And then Punk stepped even closer and started whispering so that the mic couldn't pick up the sound "Whip my ass? Really? Didn't know you were that kinky John. I'll have to file that away somewhere for future consideration. So come to Chicago, try to whip my ass, should be fun for all."

And that's when the tone for the Raw General Manager's email pinged through the arena.

His possible last night on Raw so he had to bend to the will of the sociopathic anonymous general manager? If he did get fired at least he wouldn't have to deal with that asinine laptop anymore. He turned around to see Punk backing his way up the ramp, the megaphone going off, "Good Luck."