A/N: I'm too pissed off right now. Kaitlyn told me about the new WWE Magazine, and it still hasn't arrived at my house yet. UGH! This is ridiculous. Now I probably won't get it until like Monday or something. Boo that.
And Cara? I was planning on updating this like tomorrow…but since you asked…And I now, as of the 13th or 14th, have TWO CM Punk stories.
Phyllis led me over to some big room. It looked like one of those annoying lecture halls in school. I didn't like school. Maybe that's why I'm feeling so uncomfortable. Well, that and I have a fucking old hag breathing down my neck. I think that my neck might burn to a crisp soon. I mean, she is Phyllis, the fire breathing receptionist. If she wants a better job, I think that could be good gimmick for the WWE. I mean, they'll sign anyone these days. There's rumors going around that they signed…Eminem. Yeah. Good thing those are false, right?
Okay, back to Phyllis. I think she thinks that I'm going to steal something, not that there's anything to steal. The walls are white…shocker. All it's missing are the padded walls. And the straight jackets. I'd like to stick Phyllis in one of those. Why is this insanely freaky woman staring at me? Ugh.
So the chairs are set up like stadium seating, I guess. That's odd. They must have random lectures here all the time. Maybe people should listen. I know I probably sound like Barney right now, but being drug free is the way to be. Damn, I sound like a bumper sticker or something.
"Mr. Punk, I want you to take this with the utmost sincerity," Phyllis said, taking me out of my insane asylum-Barney trance.
"Of course, Phyllis," I grinned with my cheesiest grin. Cheesiness is my specialty. Seriously, did she think that I was just going to half ass this thing? I'm talking about my life, here. I don't half ass my life. Okay, maybe I half ass some things…like my behavior, but that's just healthy. A little fun and a little tasty cantaloupe never hurt anyone. At least I think that cantaloupe never hurt anyone.
"Mr. Punk, this is a very serious matter. And to be honest, I'm not entirely sure that you possess the maturity level that is required of a person to speak on a matter that is of a nature as serious as this is." Did she really just say all that in one breath? I didn't think her old mouth could do that. I thought that maybe it would either stop working, or she would dry it up with her jibber jabber. I think I should get her a water bottle so she can re-hydrate. Maybe she'll be nicer to me and give me a gold star. Are they still doing that in schools these days?
"I think I can handle this, Phyllis. After all, I've been doing this for twenty-nine years." I gave her my sweetest kiss ass smile. I'm sure you're wondering why I say "Phyllis" after nearly ever single sentence I say to the woman. It's because I find the name "Phyllis" to be hilarious. One time, I was at a Chicago Cubs game. You know Colt Cabana, right? Well, I was with him. We got there extremely early that day. We wanted to go down to the front row during batting practice and maybe catch some balls. Usually, the douche bag ushers stop you, but there was this nice old lady named…Phyllis. She let us go down there and we met some of the guys. Then the next time we went to see Phyllis and go down to the diamond, she wouldn't let us. Phyllis gave us the shaft! So that's why I think Phyllis is just funny.
Now Phyllis has me standing in front of the empty room. My, what an impeccable example I must be setting. I can stand in front of an empty room just fine, Phyllis. I think I mastered that task when I was five, kind of like Kelly Kelly using cartwheels in wrestling matches and thinking she can wrestle because she's using stuff she learned when she was five. I'm done ranting now.
The people started filling the room up. Not everyone was anxious to sit in the front row. Kenny was the first to hit up the front row, which didn't surprise me at all. I was, however, shocked when the Snow Cone Princess herself, Alana, sat a couple of seats down from him. She glared at me, crossed her legs, and blew a rather large gum bubble. That's cute.
Kenny looks like he's going to urinate himself, he's so excited. I'm cool!
Phyllis gave me some lame intro that I didn't even pay attention to, to be honest. All I heard was, "CM Punk," and then she stopped talking. I guess that's my cue to go.
How do I start one of these things? I've never really done any public speaking. Cutting promos on XBOX live while playing Halo doesn't count as public speaking, unfortunately, so I'm out of luck. I'll be unorthodox and start with a question and answer session. "Does anyone have any questions about a straight edge lifestyle?" Wow, how Mr. Rogers is that?
"What the fuck does straight edge even fucking mean?" some kid blurted out. I looked up and saw that he was sitting in the last row.
"Let me guess. College burnout for marijuana?" I guessed of his reason for being here.
"How did you know?"
"Lucky guess." See? I am smart!
"Why do you think you're so cool?" I looked over to where the voice had come from. Ah…
Alana.
I could have sworn we went over this already.
"Um…I'm aware that I have no idea what you're talking about."
She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "I'm sure you're very aware of what I'm talking about. You must think you're so cool because you come in here all drug free and we're all addicted. We were put here against our will, and then it's jackasses like you that come in here and talk down to us like we're scum under your shoes. Why don't you just fuck off?"
I am one big loser, really. I carry around a tennis ball that I named "BALL." I name most of my accessories. I'm a Cubs fan! This girl is crazy…gorgeous. No, I have Maria. No, I don't have Maria.
"Thank you, Alana. I think we'll reconvene in an hour," Phyllis said, ending my lovely little lecture.
This was sufficiently awkward, I must say.
Alana's leaving. You know, I never really do this, but…
It's time to see what this girl is all about.
A/N: I got my magazine. I'm happy now.
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