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Hope the Punk/AJ love keeps going her on FF dot net. With any luck, this will be the first of a bunch of new updates!
Hard To Handle
Part 4
WWE RAW
Backstage - Roughly a few minutes earlier
Punk had just finished up taking a shower after his match with the Miz earlier tonight. The cool water hitting his face was a welcome relief to the heat radiating off of his skin. A heat matched only by the fading flickers of anger that were subsiding within him.
Anger resulting from a heated exchange that came between him and his self-proclaimed "Awwwwe-some!" opponent during the match…
Punk snorted to himself as Miz pranced around in the moments before the bell rung, making those silly "tough guy" faces that, for some odd reason, made that faux-hawk sporting goofball think he was a badass.
Still, Punk made it a point to take this match seriously. Miz might not be as good as, say, Punk himself or Daniel Bryan—and as of late, even Santino Marella had a better winning percentage than Miz—but he was still a former WWE Champion and he was a rather crafty and conniving competitor whenever he set his mind to it.
The match itself was pretty fast-paced, although Punk still made it a point to throw a few jabs his opponent's way, specifically about his choice of haircut ("Nice Fauxhawk; did you get permission to use it from the 9 year-old kid you stole it from?") his ex-girlfriend ("So, Miz…I hear Maryse is hanging out with baseball players these days. How many bases you think she let Derek Jeter round off? Or maybe he just stole home on the first play?") his reality TV show fame ("I hear The Real World's doing a reunion show later this year; wonder why they forgot to send you the invitation?") his wrestling ability ("I don't know which is worse: your rapping, that two dollar haircut, Vickie Guerrero's screeching, Mae Young in a thong or any one of your matches…nah, it's definitely your matches, but your rapping's a close second! You're so bad you make Cena sound like WuTang Clan!") and, of course, his losing streak. ("Hey, Miz! Miz! Do me a favor and land on your left side after I pin you tonight; I hear TMZ's lurking around here, and I want them to catch my best side after you lose for the, what, 30th time? I mean, you lost to Santino a few nights ago…really? Santino? Really? REALLY?")
The words had their desired effect, as Miz was getting more riled up, but sloppier as Punk, smiling in what internet vernacular would describe as a "trolling" grin, effortlessly evaded his moves and countered with all sorts of Muay Thai kicks, slams, and submission holds. He even took the time to ruffle Miz's signature haircut like an older brother to a weakling child. Punk was having fun, and loving it, as were the fans, who were chanting a deafening "CM PUNK! CM PUNK!" mantra throughout the arena. Ever the ham, Punk took a moment to bow to the audience, while Miz was on the floor, recovering.
At last, Miz snapped and landed a shot from behind, nailing Punk in the head. From there, the former reality TV star took control as he cinched in headlocks, punches and every form of cheap shot that he could think of.
"You wanna make fun of me, huh, Punk?" Miz snapped through his teeth as he stomped into Punk's midsection, driving him into the corner. "You don't make fun of me, nobody makes fun of me! I'M the Miz and I'M Awesome, and you know it!"
Punk barely had time to catch his breath before he felt his windpipe being constricted thanks to the Miz's boot caught against his throat.
Over the pain, he managed to hear a few choice words from his opponent. "You're the champ? You're nothing, Punk! Nothing! You're pathetic, and you're easy…just like your girlfriend, AJ!"
At that, Punk's eyes snapped wide open.
"Yeah, you heard me," Miz sneered as he backed away, taking a moment to relish in his triumph, thinking he was about to close in on a victory. "Daniel Bryan told me all about her; how she plays it all innocent for the cameras but she turns into a little slut once the bedroom doors close." A cocky, satisfied smile. "But I guess those indy chicks really are wild ones, huh? Wild and crazy. Maybe when this is over, I might pay your little whore a visit during the after-hours myse-OOF!"
Miz never got to finish his sentence as Punk, suddenly full of life and raging with anger, leapt out of the corner and pounced on his opponent, raining down blow after blow on Miz's hapless form, the Cleveland native pathetically trying to cover up.
Normally, this would have been the time for Punk to set up his patented GTS to seal the win, but after hearing the vile words about his sweet AJ spewing out of Miz's oversized mouth, Punk decided that putting Miz to sleep was too good for him.
No, there was only one way to make sure that Miz would learn his lesson regarding talking shit about AJ, or even thinking about her like that, ever again…
With that in mind, Punk wrenched Miz's left arm behind his skull and wrapped his own arms around Miz's head and began to wrench hard in the painful and deadly Anaconda Vise. That excruciating submission hold had made the very best wrestlers in the WWE tap out, had won Punk several championships in the past…and now, Punk was applying it with as much torque and pull as he could muster.
Screaming in pain, it wasn't long before Miz began frantically tapping out, the referee calling for the bell and awarding the match to Punk as the crowd rejoiced. But Punk wasn't done yet. No, no, no, tapping out wasn't good enough…
"Say you're sorry, you son of a bitch!" snarled Punk, his iron grip unbreakable. "SAY IT!"
"AAH! Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" screamed Miz.
"And what are you sorry for?" an angry Punk demanded.
"I-I-I-I'm sorry about calling your girlfriend a slut!" Miz wheezed and panted.
"Right, because she's WHAT?"
"She-she-she's a very nice girl, and she's cute and sweet!"
"And you'll never do it again, RIGHT?" Punk prompted, not easing up on his grip on Miz's head in the slightest.
"OWOWOWOW! No, no, no, no, I'll never do it again, I promise!" Miz whined.
"Very good, Miz! You learn quick!" Punk snarked sarcastically, before he twisted one more time. "Now tell the camera that your haircut is stupid!"
"AAHH! Okay, okay, my haircut is stupid…"
Punk smirked. "Good. Who's the Best Wrestler in the World?"
Groaning, Miz relented. "You are…"
Twisting harder, Punk demanded. "Louder! So the people at home can hear you!"
"AAH! Okay, okay, CM Punk is the Best Wrestler in the World! AHH!"
Satisfied, Punk relinquished his hold. "You know…that was the most entertaining thing you've done in the last year."
As his theme music hit, drawing a loud ovation from the crowd, Punk smiled, pleased with himself as he took one last look at the writhing Miz before walking back up the ramp with his title to celebrate. It was one thing to mess with CM Punk…but you never, ever messed with CM Punk's girl…
Punk shook his head as he took in that match. Yeah, it had been fun to make Miz squeal like a pug. That guy always bugged him. But it was a little..disturbing to realize how much that dig about AJ had gotten under his skin. The last time he had felt anything close to that rage was when Jericho was talking crap about his family. While it was different on the surface—as that had to do with buried demons that Punk thought he had long laid to rest—it was still the same: those words burned him because he cared.
In the last few months he had grown closer to AJ than he would have ever thought possible. Punk had cared about a lot of the girls that he dated; hell, even admitted that he fell in love with a few of them. AJ was…she wasn't like any of them. He hadn't fallen this fast and this hard for a chick in…well, ever. The fastest before then was Maria, and even that took a while.
Hearing Miz talk about AJ like that…he hadn't felt anger rip through him like that since Jericho called his sister Shaylene a drug addict (totally untrue). And he'd be lying if he said he was happy that scum like Miz knew about his relationship with AJ. He knew that Daniel knew, but how many others knew? Did Alberto Del Rio know? Or Kane? Jericho? Cody Rhodes? Mark Henry?
Did Laurinaitis and his bootlickers know?
Speaking of which, he couldn't help but to be a little thrown when Eve "the Hoeski" Torres sauntered down to the stage after his match and informed him that "Little Johnny" had requested his presence later tonight for a little public powwow. He also wasn't blind to the way Eve was giving him the "bedroom eyes" from head to toe, looking like a lioness licking her chops at a gazelle. And frankly, Punk was a little skeeved out. Sure, Eve was a first-rate hottie, but she was getting a reputation as the locker room bike. And after the antics he'd seen of her at Cena's and Ryder's expense, he knew better than to cross paths with Eve.
The question was: of all times, why did John Tonsillitis want to deal with him now? Did this have anything to do with that scheme of his to get his hands on the WWE title? Or was it another way of sticking it to Punk for all of his slights?
Punk didn't know. To be honest, he didn't care either way. Laurinaitis was too stupid to come up with anything original; whatever it was that he was up to, Punk was sure that he'd see it coming a mile away. And he'd deal with it, like he always did: with a handful of pipe bombs and a solid leg to kick some heads in.
The door suddenly began to knock to the rhythmic sound of "The Wheels on the Bus go round and round." Only one person he knew knocked that way, he realized with a smile.
"Come on in, AJ," he called out offhandedly as he wrapped a towel around his waist.
Not a few moments later, the small, fit frame of the New Jersey native came walking through the door, adorned in one of his T-shirts. AJ was about to greet him when she caught sight of her boyfriend in a towel—and only a towel.
Instantly, all thoughts of verbage were blown out of her mind as she took in the dripping sight of Punk. Uh…I…humm…ohboyohwowohmy…
Punk gave her a cocky smirk. "Tip, honey? Mouth looks better closed."
Coming to her senses, AJ gave him a wry smile as she picked up one of his discarded kick pads and threw it at him playfully. "Warn me the next time you do that," she chided. Then she thought about it. "Or, on second thought, don't. Much more fun for me."
"Perv," he shot back at her with a smile as he threw his pad back at her, AJ nimbly ducking the pad as she stuck her tongue out at him.
"So…to what do I owe this pleasure?" Punk drawled as he took in just how…hot…AJ looked wearing one of his shirts.
"What, a girl can't just drop in afterwards to see her boyfriend after a long and grueling match?" she inquired with an impish grin.
Punk shrugged, dismissively. "It was Miz, dollface. It's not like I was fighting Ric Flair circa 1985 or whatever."
"How bad did you beat him?" AJ asked, curious.
Punk smirked. "Enough to make him remember this match for at least two weeks."
AJ laughed as she closed the gap between them. "You are such a punk, you know that?"
He could only grin as he pulled her in close to his body. "Chicago Made, honey."
With a giggle, AJ leaned in, reached up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss, which he was only too happy to reciprocate. What began as a tender ,sweet kiss suddenly began to build into something more as the couple suddenly found themselves pressed against the wall of the locker room, tangled in a heated embrace.
AJ closed her eyes as she ran her hands through Punk's wet hair, the tattoed Straight Edge Superstar placing heated kisses on her lips, her neck, her collarbone. She found his touch to be tender, yet skilled, strong. He wasn't full of demand and need like Daniel was; sure, she could tell he wanted her, but the tenderness of his kisses, his fingers let her know that, more importantly, he cared for her. And that made their embrace so hot for her that it was all she could do to keep from melting into a puddle of goo.
"God, it's a shame we can't just get out of here right now," Punk murmured between kisses, savoring the sweet and salty tang of her lips.
"Yeah, I heard…mmngh," she gasped as she cradled his soaking head, holding him closer to her. "Laurinaitis wants to see you, huh?"
"Word travels fast," Punk breathed as his lips trailed down her neck. "Yeah, that big gunkard wants me front and center in the ring; shame, really…I could think of a number of things I'd like to do with you if we had some free time."
"Like last night?" AJ smiled against his ear as she nibbled on it.
Punk's grin was from ear to ear as he recalled the night before, almost breaking out into a hot sweat as he remembered what they did, as he tasted the salty sun-bronzed skin of her collarbone. "Gotta love you flexible chicks. So many possibilities…" By now, her shirt had flown over her head, Punk taking in the sight of her toned, tanned flesh in nothing but a black and white strapped sports bra. "I kinda want to just blow off that tool and explore each of those possibilities…one…by...one…"
"Baby, he'll…fire…you," AJ warned, even though her thoughts were rapidly becoming little more than mush as Punk's daft fingers began to find her way down behind her tights, teasing and meading the soft, supple flesh of her ass.
"He can't fire me, babe; I'm a franchise player now," Punk said with pride, and a hint of smugness, as his lips alternated between her mouth and her neck. "Champion, video game cover boy, talk show guest star…I don't wanna say I'm The Man now, but…well, yeah, I'm The Man now."
AJ chuckled in a throaty way as she nibbled on his lips. "Well, aren't you a smug bastard?"
"Yes I am," Punk said, his voice thick with want as he began to lift her up into his arms, her strong, tanned yet tiny legs wrapping around his waist. "Now, let me go show you why they call me the Best in the World…again."
"Phil…" Kiss. "We have to…" Kiss. "Talk about…" Kiss. "…tonight…"
"Talk later, baby," he muttered against her mouth, as the towel disappeared and her shorts came sliding off her legs. "I just need to…taste you…here…now…"
"I…ohhh…Yeessss…" was her hushed whisper of a reply, as she finally gave in to her need for him, before they ended up back in the shower doing anything BUT getting clean.
Roughly a half-hour later, Punk and AJ sat in the shower, savoring the afterglow of their get-together. His arm was wrapped almost possessively around her back, while her right arm was draped across his chest, the smile on her face dreamy and satisfied.
"You should come around and visit me more often after matches," Punk smirked as he played with an idle strand of her hair.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" AJ smirked back.
"After that? Uh, hell yes!" Punk grinned with a little waggle of his eyebrows, which elicited another laugh from AJ.
Yet another difference that she noted. Daniel, even before he became a jackass, wasn't all that funny. His was more of the straight man humor, but he rarely showed it off, and it all but disappeared after he cashed in that stupid briefcase of his on Big Show in December. Punk, though, he was a different case; he could find the humor in almost anything. No matter how small or how big. It offered a kind of needed levity at times. It made her feel safe. Comforted. Even…loved.
"So…about tonight…" AJ tried, attempting to make the conversation a little more serious.
"Oh, yeah, that," Punk sighed offhandedly. "Whatever. It's no big deal. Knowing that goof, he probably just wants to put me in a triple threat, Texas death, endless gauntlet, steel cage, flaming ring of fire match thing or something. Nothing I can't handle."
When he caught sight of AJ biting her lip—something he knew was her trait whenever she became nervous—Punk frowned. "Babe? What's going on?"
With a worried sigh, the tiny Diva told him about what transpired after her own match with Natalya, specifically the part about Eve's mysterious invitation for her to join Punk at the end of the show in the center of the ring.
To say that Punk was not happy was a drastic understatement. He knows, he realized in dismay. That fucking bastard knows about us. Damn it!
"Fuck," he cursed out loud. "How did they find out?"
"I…I have no idea," AJ sighed. Off his look, she blurted, "I swear I haven't told anyone!"
"I know, I believe you," Punk sighed in frustration. Then he realized, with sudden clarity, who it was that had seen them around.
"Bryan," he laughed dryly, before he slammed his fist against a wall. "Fucking asshole. When I get my hands on that little midget, I'm gonna pop him like a zit."
"Punk, forget it," AJ tried to calm him down, gently reaching up and stroking his wet sideburns. "So, they know about us. Big deal. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Workplace romances never exactly stay secret for long."
"It's not that simple, AJ," Punk exhaled, upset. "You know that. When you have the WWE Championship, everyone is gunning for you. And…"
Even though he broke off, AJ could tell from the way his lips flattened into a hard, serious line that he was holding something back. Punk wasn't the only one that had learned to read his significant other's moods.
" 'And' what, baby?" she asked, softly.
"Forget about it," Punk shrugged it off. "No need for you to get worried about all that."
"Hey," she said, gently guiding his face to hers. "If it concerns you, it concerns me, too. C'mon…tell me."
While he was reluctant to drag her into his business, Punk knew it would only upset AJ more if he kept things in. in fact, she would hound him until he finally broke. She was like that. So, he told her about what Sheamus and Kofi had told him last night, regarding Laurinaitis's mysterious 'plans' for him, the details of which had yet to be revealed.
His confession confirmed AJ's suspicions. "You think it's all connected, then."
"I never really believed much in coincidence, doll," he nodded.
As her eyes lowered, a troubled and somewhat guilty look on her face emerged, which drew Punk's concern. "AJ? Hey, what's wrong, babe?"
She looked up at him, a culpable look still etched on her cherubic features. "Pun…Phil…look, just go without me to the ring later tonight. I'll just head back to the hotel and wait for you there, or something."
That caught him by surprise. "AJ…you have to go; you know that. As long as that idiot's still in power, he's still got control over giving out pink slips. He can't touch me, but if he does know about us, he'll just fire you because he knows it'll get to me."
"Which is exactly why I shouldn't be out there tonight," AJ countered. "Punk, you worked so hard to get that title; I'm not going to let him use me to take it off of you!"
"He won't take it off of me that way," Punk assured her. "Not gonna happen. He's gonna need a lot more than head games to take this off of me. He could ask Jericho all about that."
"But—"
"AJ," he cut her off, gently. "You worked your ass off to get here. I know; I've seen the footage from when you started out. I'm not going to let you give up your dream just so I can hold on to this belt a little longer. That's Daniel's schtick, not mine."
"I…I know you're not like Daniel. I just—I just don't want to be a liability to you,"
AJ sighed. "You sure I won't…be in your way? Or, you know…distract you?"
Punk smirked. "Babe, you're a hot flexible chick with a killer smile and a great ass. It's hard for you to NOT be distracting while I'm out there."
"Phil!" she exclaimed with a smile as she swatted his chest.
His smile turned from teasing to tender. "I'm serious, AJ. Look, worse case scenario, he knows. If he tries something, or if he threatens you, I'll twist him into a pretzel knot like I did Miz. Just go out there, be yourself, and relax. I'll be right behind you, and I'll handle my business the best way I know how. It'll all be fine."
Off his assuring smile, AJ felt herself relax a little. There it was again; that devil-may-care attitude that made him so…well, the word sexy was pretty much the only word that AJ could sum it up with. She had no doubt that if it were Daniel in this position, he'd be up the wall, crazed, tense and livid. He'd probably accuse her of being a distraction and use all sorts of other horrible words.
But not Punk.
"Okay?" he asked with a grin.
Her smile was sweet, trusting. "Okay," she nodded, as the two lovers shared a tender kiss on the wet floor of the shower.
"Okay, then," Punk said as he clapped his hands. "Now, if you're done violating me while I shower, I think we have a segment to prepare for."
"Violated you?" she smirked as she helped him up. "I didn't hear you complaining a few minutes ago. I haven't heard that many 'Oh, Gods' since my Communion."
"Well, from what I've been told, sex with CM Punk IS a religious experience," Punk smirked cockily.
"Pig!" she teased as she smacked his head lightly.
"You love me," he ribbed back as he handed her towel to her.
Her answer was a dazzling smile that made his stomach tingle. "Sometimes…I kinda do."
"My name…is Mr. John Laurinaitis!" announced the ruling RAW and Smackdown GM, which drew a hail of boos and hisses from the rabid fans. "I am the Executive Vice President of Talent Relations and Permanent General Manager of both Raw and Smackdown."
Alongside Laurinaitis, Eve and David Otunga flanked him at both sides, smug looks on their faces.
"Earlier tonight, I requested the presence of two of our company's principal title holders and two of the WWE Universe's most beloved stars today," he continued, ignoring the crowd's booing. "With every growing company, it is always important to look not to the past, but to the future. And what better way to look at that future than to look at the best of the best standing today? So let's talk about the future…let's start with the new Divas Champion. Ladies and gentlemen, the lovely and talented…AJ!"
At that, the bouncy and poppy sound of "Let's Light it Up," AJ's theme music, hit and out came the Divas Champion, dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a jean jacket with Marvel's "The Avengers" logo emblazoned on the back, black and white sneakers, and a white T-shirt that read "Self-Rescuing Princess." The Butterfly Belt nestled proudly on her shoulder, she gave an enthusiastic wave to the fans, who responded with cheers and wolf whistles.
Despite her megawatt smile, she couldn't help but to feel the apprehension as she stopped short on the ramp, while watching Laurinaitis and Otunga clapping politely, while Eve eyed her with a noticeable sneer; she couldn't help but to feel like she was a lamb being sent in front of a pack of wolves, particularly Eve.
That chick was really starting to get on AJ's nerves; she had no idea what her problem was, but if she wanted a fight, AJ would soon be more than happy to oblige.
Before she had too much time to dwell on that thought, the sound of static crackled through the arena's speakers, followed by the blaring sounds and drums of Living Colour's "Cult of Personality."
Immediately, the fans in attendance cheered and screamed loudly as they stood in anticipation of the arrival of the one man associated with that music…
…the WWE Champion, CM Punk.
Look in my Eeeeeyes! What do you see?
The Cult of Personaaaality…
The moment Punk stepped through the curtain, sporting his "In Punk We Trust" T-shirt over his wrestling gear, WWE Championship wrapped around his waist, the audience exploded in a standing ovation.
From grown men to women and children, all of them hailed his arrival with cheers, chants of "CM PUNK! CM PUNK! CM PUNK!" and an assortment of various signs ("Best in the World: C x M + Punk, It's all in the Math", "I paid to see CM Punk!" "I Still Want Ice Cream!" "Punk for President" "Proud member of the Cult of Punk" and "#Pipe Bomb!") the fans roared their approval for the WWE Champion.
Upon seeing his figure up on the ramp, cocky smirk on his face as he took in the fans adulation, AJ couldn't help but to smile and shake her head. He was almost like a little kid up there, despite that Joe Cool exterior he put on; she could tell how much the business meant to him. And his presence made a large number of the butterflies in her stomach ebb and fade away.
I know your angeerr, I know your dreams,
I've been everything you want to beeeeee
Ooooooh, I'm the Cult of Personaaaality…
Upon seeing her, he smiled and motioned for her to come join him on the ramp. Confused, but intrigued, AJ found herself moments later side by side with him up the ramp. Her confusion turned to surprise as he knelt down in his signature opening pose, cocking his head as an indication for her to join him.
AJ blinked, stunned. "You want me to…?"
"Yeah, come on, they'll love it," he smiled.
Barely able to contain her excitement, AJ grinned like a school girl as she knelt down alongside Punk.
Like Mussolini, and Kennedyyy
Iiiii'm the Cult of Personality, the Cult of Personality
The Cult of Personaaaality….
"You know…I've always wanted to do this with you," she confided in his ear, smiling.
His grin was his reply. "Well, wishes are horses today, sweet thang."
As one, just as Punk finished checking the imaginary watch on his taped up wrists, both AJ and Punk shouted to the world, much to the crowd's roaring delight, just what time it was:
"IT'S CLOBBERING TIIIME!"
Neon lights, Nobel Prize
When a leader speaks, the reflection lies,
You won't have to follow me,
Only you can set me free…
Laurinaitis looked like he had swallowed a dead frog as he regarded Punk coming down the ramp. He was going to have to swallow some pride if this worked; but if it didn't…well, he certainly wasn't going to mind doling out consequences.
I saw the things you need to be
I'm the smiling face on your T-V!
Oooh, I'm the Cult of Personaaality…
As the couple entered the ring—Punk holding up his championship for all to see as he stood on the left-hand turnbuckle, declaring himself "BEST IN THE WOOOORRRLD!"—AJ caught sight of Eve's hungry gaze, her lips curled into a sly smirk as she took in the sight of her boyfriend.
I exploit you, still you love me
I tell you 1 and 1 makes 3!
Oooh, I'm the Cult of Personaaality…
The smile faded from AJ's face as she felt her eyes narrow dangerously at the former model, a strong urge to slap the eyeliner off Eve's face taking over her before the petite Diva willed herself to calm down. She wasn't here to make a scene; the three creeps opposite her gave her the creeps, and frankly, AJ just wanted this to be over with as fast and as quickly as possible.
As Punk's music died down, Laurinaitis put on his plastic, phony smile. "You know, Punk…I don't appreciate the fact that you came out here before I had the opportunity to introduce you to the public."
"Well, sorry, Johnny Boy, but this is a TV show, and if I had to sit back there and listen to you drone on and on pointlessly in that monotone voice of yours like you normally do, we would have lost more people to 'Dancing With the Stars,'" Punk smirked, to which the audience cheered.
Laurinaitis pursed his lips, trying to keep his composure, despite the rapidly building pressure in his arterial walls. "That's…very funny, Punk," he tersely managed, before plastering on another phony smile. "But I didn't bring you out here to start any trouble. Okay? On the contrary, I wanted to discuss the future with you."
"If it's a future in the WWE without you in it, I'm all ears," Punk riposted, which drew laughter and a few "YES! YES! YES!" chants from the audience.
Despite shaking her head—realizing that his words were only going to get them into more trouble—AJ couldn't help but to smile and chuckle a little. He was in his element, she got that; the class clown that was always dogging on the principal.
"Again, very amusing," Laurinaitis smiled through his teeth. "But just hear me out, hear me out. I came to talk about business. Okay? As many of you know," he addressed the WWE universe. "..according to the latest poll on WWE . com, the votes show that CM Punk is the fans' choice as the most popular Superstar in all of WWE."
The fans cheered loudly, echoes of "CM PUNK! CM PUNK!" echoing through the arena. Ever the showman, Punk acknowledged them with a bow and a 'Thank you.' As he looked towards AJ, his girlfriend gave him a wink in approval, though he forced himself not to smile too much; no sense in showing all of his cards before Laurinaitis showed his whole hand.
"That being said, I will be the first to admit…I was wrong about you," he said, looking as if he was forced to swallow a rancid lemon as he said the words. "I had my doubts about whether you could rise to the challenge and be a true star in this business, but you not only rose to the challenge, you shattered the glass ceiling. And for that…I'm proud of you, son."
He extended his hand for Punk to shake; but the raised eyebrow on the face of the WWE champion showed that he was less than moved.
"Right," Punk scoffed. " 'Son?' I'm your son, now? Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, you either think I'm stupid, or you're stupid enough to believe this load of crap you're spewing, and frankly, I'm not sure which one it is."
AJ's mouth turned a little; she smelled a pipe bomb coming, and she could hear Punk's fuse crackling.
"Let's cut through the BS, 'Johnny,'" he continued. "I have it on pretty good authority that you don't like me much, do you? As a matter of fact, you can't stand me. In fact, you HATE me, don't you? And that's just fine, because I feel the exact same way about you, your lame ass scooter you come out with, and just about every single aspect of you from your cheap little suits to that 1950s hairstyle to the way those clueless beady little eyes of yours look down on everyone around you. So, now that we know where we stand, exactly what is it that you want from me?"
"Now, Punk," Otunga stepped in, another facetious smile on his face. "Let's not get carried away. This doesn't have to get ugly. In fact…we're here to talk about the future. Your future, in fact. It's about us helping you to be all you can be."
Punk scoffed with a bemused smirk. "What, you're going make me join the Army?"
Despite her efforts not to, AJ's attempt to hold in her laugh failed as an amused snort escaped her. She had to admit, that was kinda funny.
"Allow me to clarify, Punk," Eve stepped in, flashing Punk a smile that would have made most men wilt. But to Punk, it only warranted a raised eyebrow…while it made AJ's hand itch from the impulse of wanting to slap the taste out of this woman's mouth. "If you could please direct your attention to the titantron."
Suspicious, Punk and AJ directed their attention to the titantron, which immediately began displaying a video package of Laurinaitis's "People Power" regime.
"John Laurinaitis…visionary. Icon. Sports Entertainment Pioneer," the deep, male voiceover proclaimed.
AJ rolled her eyes, already bored. She and Punk could be at a diner right now, chowing down on a milkshake and cheeseburgers and laughing about the day's events, or better yet, taking another shower in their hotel room. Instead, they had to see some video package about a no-talent middle management flunky fapping to himself.
Looking to Punk, who was making gagging sounds at the voiceover, she barely contained her laughter, gently elbowing him to keep him in line.
"And the man who is bringing to the WWE universe, the new, undisputed face of the WWE…"
Suddenly, a highlight reel of Punk's rise to stardom began to play, almost like a tribute video from his days in ECW to his first World Title to other classic bouts he had with big time superstars, his now legendary June 27 'Pipe Bomb' on WWE and his reign as WWE Champion.
"Together... Revolutionizing the face of the WWE. John Laurinaitis. And CM Punk." At that point, a rather cheesy looking, superimposed image of Punk and Laurinaitis shaking hands appeared on the screen. "Bringing a new day to sports entertainment."
AJ bit hard on her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the promo. That was just the tackiest, corniest thing she had ever seen in her life. A photoshop of Punk and Laurinaitis shaking hands? That was just ill-conceived.
"And Punk?" Laurinaitis proclaimed with a smile as the lights came back on. "That's what I want for your futu—"
A loud snore came from Punk, who was pretending to sleep through the whole thing. Naturally, the crowd loved it, and AJ couldn't help but to snicker a little.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Punk called out as he "woke up." "Wow, I had the strangest dream. I dreamt that I was stuck in a ring with some old washed up ex-wrestler, the little guy from 'Fresh Prince of Bel Air' and Corporate Hooker Barbie watching the most boring, cheesy, pathetic marketing style video package ever made." Widening his eyes, he pointed to Laurinaitis and his crew. "And YOU were there!" To the audience. "And you and you and you and…wait, oh, crap, that actually happened? Damn it!"
Laughter in the crowd rumbled through the building, and Laurinaitis felt his face redden like a tomato in anger and embarrassment; which forced AJ to bite down hard on her tongue to keep from laughing too hard.
"Now Punk," Laurinaitis tersely said. "I'm trying to be professional here, but you're just being rude now, okay? I'm trying, okay?"
"Sir, if I may," Otunga cut in, looking at Punk. "Now, Punk…I don't think you fully understand what we're offering here. It's clear that, deep down, all you really want is a chance to make the big money, the way that other legendary names in this business made that money, and that fame. Stone Cold Steve Austin. The Rock. Hulk Hogan. Triple H. John Cena. And Punk…your name could be synonymous with them. Maybe even…surpass them."
"Think about it. By partnering with us, by allowing us to mold you, to guide your career, which hasn't even reached its full peak yet, to reach its full potential, we're not just talking ice cream bars and collector's cups. We're talking Hollywood. Movies. Guest star appearances on TV shows. Your name could be on everything from shirts to shoes to underwear to baby food. We're talking fame, we're talking money and financial security…with our backing, Punk, you could live the life you always wanted."
As AJ spied Punk's eyes, she could see a serious look take on his face as he listened to their offer.
"Punk, I'll pay you the compliment of being blunt," Eve cut in as she pushed her way past Otunga. "You're obviously a man of great business savvy. You know who you are and what you're worth. You're hitting strides not seen since the Attitude Era. Maybe the best all-around talent in the business today. But at the end of the day…you're still just another wrestler. What we're offering to do…is to make you a star. Someone that transcends the business. Someone who will be talked about for years, long after you've retired. And Mr. Laurinaitis has the ability to do that for you. We've just been waiting for someone like you to come along…"
She turned her best smile towards him as she eyed him from head to toe with a bedroom smile. "Someone who we could…mold. That we could…shape. That we could help…rise up…and realize his greatness. Think about it, Punk."
She slowly took off her glasses, fixing her most sultry stare on him as she trailed one perfectly manicured nail down Punk's chest, making AJ's eyes widen in outrage. Sensing her anger—and seeing her hand twitch slightly, no doubt with the itch to tear off Eve's hair—Punk subtly shook his head. Now wasn't the time.
"We'll be very sure that we have a…hands-on…experience in helping you get…on top…of WWE," she smirked, before slowly walking back to Laurinaitis's side, making sure her hips had a little extra wiggle as she did so.
If AJ wasn't so pissed, she'd find Eve's come-on almost comical. She'd seen better pick-up lines in bad porno flicks. Eyeing Punk for any sense of interest, she was relieved when he threw her a weirded-out glance, as if to ask "What the hell was that all about?"
"And AJ!" Laurinaitis added, which surprised the New Jersey native. "Whatever we could do for Punk, we could do for you, as well. You're a talented, pretty little thing. It's obvious the WWE Universe loves you…" The crowd cheered loudly in response. "Think about what we could do for you! Why, with our help, you could become the next Trish Stratus! The next Lita! We could have you turned into a megastar overnight, if we have the chance—"
"Okay, okay, I think we get it," Punk cut him off. "Big money, movies, yay! But, uh, one thing that just sort of bothers me…the word 'mold.' You wanna mold me? What am I, Play-doh? I think I know what that means. That's Corporate-ese for you want to cut off my nuts and make me your little shaved monkey, right? You want to make me another Yes Man, yeah?"
Laurinaitis tried not to smirk. "Punk, in business, it's all about tit-for-tat. Quid pro quo. You scratch my back, and I scratch your back. I'm offering you the world. And all you have to do in return…is just play ball, okay? Just go with the flow. Just bend a little bit."
Punk shook his head, realizing his game as he flashed his trademark smirk. "Oh, I see. Play ball? Wink-wink, nudge-nudge? Well, there's just one little problem with that, 'Mister' Laurinaitis—I don't do business that way.
"I don't go with the flow, I make some big ass waves. I don't bend, and I don't break, unless its other guys' necks and limbs. And as far as you molding me and shaping me into your next lapdog, you're barking up the wrong tree, and you can stick your corporate play-doh right up your pasty ass!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, and AJ couldn't help but to smile at that. Part of what she loved and respected about Punk was his willingness to stand up for what he believed in; he played life by his rules, the hell with the consequences. It was obvious for everyone to see, and the idea that Laurinaitis actually thought he could force his corporate ideology down Punk's throat was pretty stupid…unless he had another ace up his sleeve he had yet to play, she realized.
She wasn't wrong. As Laurinaitis looked between Punk and AJ, the Geek Goddess didn't like the smile on his face one bit. "Well, Punk, you might not care too much about what happens to you. But what about the people you care about? Even a hoodlum like you must have friends around here. People like…well, like young AJ here."
Punk stiffened, as the smirk on his face fell. You son of a bitch…
"In fact," Laurinaitis continued. "I'll bet that not too many people this, but you two are in fact dating, aren't you? I have it on good authority that you two have been seen canoodling around various places. You obviously care about each other, maybe even are in love with one another, I'd wager."
As the murmurs of surprise, and a few cheers, came from the audience, AJ's stomach fell into her feet as she realized that her worst fear had been confirmed. The secret was out; and in front of the entire world, to boot.
From the tense look and the murderous gleam in Punk's eyes as he glared at Laurinaitis, she could tell that he was unhappy with this turn of events, as well.
"AJ's a promising young Diva, Punk, one of the best we've had in years," the GM smirked wickedly. "It'd be a shame if her blossoming career was suddenly cut short because of a little…failure to communicate between us, wouldn't it?"
As a livid Punk took a threatening step towards Laurinaitis, ready to tear off the old man's head, AJ reached out and held him back.
"Phil!" she whispered harshly. "Baby, don't do this. This is what he wants."
"Well, wishes are horses today," he growled. "Now let me go, AJ, so I can mule kick this dumbass's empty head off!"
"No!" she hissed louder. "I am not about to let your temper get the better of you, now calm down! We'll figure this out…we will. I promise."
Still glaring daggers at the older man, Punk reluctantly backed down. For now, anyway.
Laurinaitis chuckled, thinking that he now had the upper hand. "You see, Punk, I'm a man who is used to getting what I want. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way, is you swallow your pride, stand up like a man, shake my hand and we can embark on this new partnership together. And the hard way…well, not only are you going to be forced to do it my way anyway, but well, AJ might have to do well in her…future endeavors. Just like a lot of your friends, whose names I can't recall, that I've had to do the same to over the years."
As Otunga and Eve smirked beside Laurinaitis, Punk felt his anger race through his system like poison. So, that was his big plan, Punk realized; putting the figurative gun at AJ to make him kowtow to his demands.
"Their names?" Punk spat. "Their names were Colt Cabana and Luke Gallows. Good friends of mine, very talented wrestlers in this company. Talent, a word that has never been even in the same sentence as you, has it, 'Johnny?' Tell me something…how does it feel knowing that out of two mullet-sporting goofs with surfboards claiming to be 'Dynamic Dudes,' that it would be your partner, Shane Douglas, that would rise to fame in ECW as its franchise, while your vanilla ass couldn't even land a job in the States?"
Laurinaitis's smirk fell, his pride wounded at the truthful remark, while the fans reacted with a loud, sarcastic 'Ooooh!'
"How does it feel that the only belt in this business you've ever had was the one holding up those cheap little pants you wear with that rumpled up suit every week that you step out here?"
The catcalls and laughter grew louder as the embarrassed GM felt his lips tighten and his cheeks redden. And AJ couldn't help but to think that the man looked like he hadn't gone to the bathroom in about 72 hours.
"How does it feel that this—what'd you call me? Oh yeah—hoodlum standing here in front of you does more in a month than you've done in your entire career?" Punk shouted, getting on a roll as he was right in Laurinaitis's face, all piss and vinegar. "That's what really kills you, doesn't it? This isn't about your vision, or your corporate dollar signs, this is about you desperately trying to hold onto your job as Executive Vice Douchebag of Transsexual Relations or whatever it is your lame ass job title reads—"
An indignant Laurinaitis tried to correct him. "Executive Vice Presid—"
"SHUT THE HELL UP! I'm not done yet," Punk snarled as the crowd went wild. "Your ass is on the chopping block; I know it, you know it, and everybody around here, including Carlton Banks and the Hoeski of the Week here, knows it. Because the Board of Directors finally figured out that a 6-year old could run RAW and Smackdown better than you. So you figured that you'd try to blackmail me by using my girlfriend—yes, and AJ is my girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen…"
Off the applause and the cheers from the crowd, AJ felt a blush come on, feeling a swell of pride in knowing that Punk felt secure enough to validate their relationship for the world to see.
"…by using my girlfriend, one of the most talented Divas on the roster, as a tool against me? Well, let me tell you something, Little Johnny, and I'll use small words and speak it slowly so that confused, senile head of yours can fully process what I'm saying to you—you will never mold me, and you will never break me. I'm not some corporate puppet, I'm not your stooge, and I'm not your patsy. What I am is what I am…and what I am is the Best Wrestler in the whole damn World!"
The crowd's approval was voiced one loud chant of "CM PUNK! CM PUNK! CM PUNK!"
AJ couldn't help but to feel a little turned on at the moment. Okay, way turned on. She had only seen Punk's famous Pipe Bombs thrown from a safe distance, but to see it up close, to hear the passion, the fire, the conviction and confidence that oozed from the Straight Edge Superstar…it was just about the hottest thing she'd ever seen.
Laurinaitis cocked his head from side to side, one of his weird angry ticks. "Punk! You've been a thorn in my side for far too long, and one way or another, this is going to end between us!" Looking to AJ, he tried his last card. "AJ…talk some sense into him. After all, it's not just his future that could be on the line here—it's yours."
Eying him angrily, AJ threw him a smirk as she was handed a microphone. "No, MR. Laurinaitis. I don't think I will. Now, I'm not stupid. I know exactly what you were trying to do. You were trying to use my relationship with Punk to try to get him to be your little lapdog. But if there's one thing I've learned from the last loser I dated, it's this: I am through with people using me."
Off the crowd's impressed cheers, she continued in a collected, yet angry voice. "I'm not a little girl, or a damsel in distress. I'm the Divas Champion, and I've worked my ass off to get where I am. And whatever and wherever I end up from here, I'll earn, like I have everything else. But I'm not going to take handouts, I'm not going to be used as a pawn in a power struggle, and I'm sure as hell not afraid of a fight! You see, you're trying to change the hottest commodity in the WWE into something he'll never be—a corporate puppet. That's not him. That'll never be him, because CM Punk is exactly what he said he was: the Voice of the Voiceless. That's the man that I believe in, and that's the man that these people believe in!"
Once more, the crowd exploded as they chanted the Second City Saint's name in support.
Smiling at her in gratitude, as she winked at him again, Punk looked to the crowd. "I don't know about you guys, but that, I think, was the sexiest damn thing I've ever seen!"
Realizing that he was losing control of the situation, Laurinaitis tried to bully his way into a win, towering over AJ at his full height, even though she did not back up even slightly. "Listen to me, little lady, just who the hell do you think you are? Huh? Do you realize who you're talking to? Do you realize that I can end your career in the blink of an eye?"
His patience at an end, Punk decided that if anyone was going to have the last word tonight, it was going to be him. Stepping in front of Laurinaitis, he flashed him an infuriating grin. "You know what, Johnny? You want me to play ball? Okay, okay, I'm down with that, let's play some ball. In fact, I'd love to go for a round of, oh, say…kick ball!"
In a flash, one of Punk's powerful legs swiftly soared upwards and promptly nailed Laurinaitis in the groin. His eyes watering and his lower half going numb, the GM fell to his knees as he clutched his destroyed manhood.
Immediately, Otunga went on the attack, but Punk was more than ready for him, belting him with several well-placed kicks, chops and punches until he went down to the canvas, where Punk cinched in the Anaconda Vise to the screaming and tapping lawyer.
While AJ stayed away from the fray, she changed her mind as soon as she saw Eve pick up the discarded WWE title and line up just behind Punk's head, no doubt looking for an opening to slam the belt into his skull.
But AJ , in a flash of speed, cut her off at the pass with a spear tackle, seizing the model's hair and slamming her into the ground repeatedly, and with unbridled enthusiasm and aggression. Eve could only scream in protest as she frantically tried to get away from AJ, rolling out of the ring.
Done with Otunga, Punk sprung to his feet, catching sight of Laurinaitis slowly getting to his feet. An evil smile coming over his lips, Punk clasped his hands together and laid his head down against the back of his palms, drawing a roar of anticipation from the crowd as they knew what was coming next.
Clueless, Laurinaitis staggered upwards…only to come right into the waiting arms of the WWE Champion, who hoisted him right on his shoulders. Despite his frantic pleas for mercy, Punk was smiling like a cat cornering a canary as he dropped the GM's face right into his knee in the devastating GTS.
Out of it almost completely, Laurinaitis rolled out of the ring while the crowd went wild and chanted for Punk as his theme music hit.
Feeling a rush unlike anything that ever came over her before, AJ was smiling from ear to ear as she rushed towards Punk and gave him a huge hug.
"Omigod, that was amazing!" she gushed.
"No kidding," Punk agreed, a mile-wide smile on his face. "You were great out here, kid. Looks like you've got the stones to hang up top after all." He grew serious. "Thanks for having my back when the shit hit the fan."
"Hey," she smiled knowingly. "Nobody messes with my guy."
Not really caring about the consequences, AJ pressed her lips to Punk's, surprising him before he figured 'What the hell?' and kissed her back, lifting her up off her feet as the crowd exploded in wild approval.
Both lovers were grinning like idiots, before AJ's pretty face became grave in thought. "You know that you've just declared war on this People Power regime, right?"
"Well, ain't that a kick in the nuts?" Pun smirked.
"I'm serious, Punk," she sighed, looking outside to the angry and embarrassed faces of Otunga and Eve, both attempting to prop up a groggy and stumbling Laurinaitis, still halfway asleep. "There's gonna be trouble."
Punk knew that she was right. There was no going back now. After tonight, Laurinaitis was going to go after him like an obsessed Elmer Fudd hunting wabbits. But hey, he welcomed the challenge. Besides, Laryngitis was right—this thing between them was going to end, one way or another. And Punk was sure of one thing: when the smoke cleared, it would be he, not Laurinaitis, that would be standing on top.
"Yeah, there's gonna be trouble." His arm around AJ's shoulders, he smirked at his embarrassed foes. "And I say, 'Bring it on.'"
TBC
Well, gotta go. I was originally going to stop here, but as you guys seem to want more, I guess I should go on, yes?
Later!
-Jean-theGuardian