A Call to Arms
The camera is shaking violently as the cameraman bolts down a narrow hallway within the PCW Arena, in hot pursuit of a man in a black hoodie. Throughout the hallway, the faint sounds of a group of people chanting can be heard. “LOVE!” “YOUR HATE!” “YOUR!” “FAITH LOST!” “YOU!” “ARE NOW!” “ONE!” “OF US!”
All of a sudden, he halts and the camera grows nearer and nearer to him. He turns around, his lip ring flashing from the overhead lights. His eyes are dark and cold, a mere reflection of the world in which he lives. He forces his fists outward and directly into the cameras eye, revealing his lifesong, the mantra in which his lifestyle chants: “Drug Free.”
He knew that if he was going to make it within Phoenix Championship Wrestling he had only one option, and that option was to return to his roots; to return to where he began. The fans saw CM Punk sprinting down to the ring and there wasn’t a butt left in a seat; however, CM Punk felt the air leave the arena as he hoisted their beloved Undertaker up onto his shoulders and put him to sleep. Now, he was left with a thousand questions – some even he didn’t have the answer to.
He peered into the lens of the camera, almost as if his eyes could penetrate into every single questioning soul that laid their eyes upon this tape…
CM Punk: A mere two and a half minutes have passed since the beloved Undertaker met his fall and the rumors are already flowing. They’re passing along from person to person, infecting feeble minds like a virus to those who haven’t the sense to question it. “CM Punk is after the PCW Championship.” Allow me to enlighten you. When you’re on the outside looking it, I’d imagine that it does appear that I’m establishing myself against the odds on favorite to become the first PCW Champion. But it’s not. It flows far deeper than something as simple as the PCW Championship.
You see, the Undertaker is everything that I hate in this business. He’s everything that is frowned upon in the world of wrestling. He follows paycheck to paycheck, selling his name like a hooker on a street corner. He goes championship to championship, not to add to its prestige but to add more to his own resume. He epitomizes all that is corrupt in the world of wrestling today. He’s the type of man that would hinder the path and success of a challenge rather than face it head on. He would rather face a jobber and rack up a win for the record than face someone on his level and risk a loss. The Undertaker IS the debauchery of Phoenix Championship Wrestling.
CM Punk stands back, his nostrils flaring as he deeply inhales to retain his composure as he launches his verbal assault on what he considers his biggest enemy. CM Punk’s tattoos weren’t just for decoration, the tattoo of “Honor” on his arm was something he strived to live by. His straightedge lifestyle was not for the faint of heart, and honor was the proof of a strong heart. In his eyes, the Undertaker – as well as the rest of the has-beens who are whoring their names for a paycheck – was weak.
CM Punk: I remember being fourteen years old and at school everyone would talk about the Washington Redskins beating the Buffalo Bills in the Superbowl, but me? What was I talking about? The Undertaker beating Jake the Snake Roberts! I looked up to you, Undertaker! I looked up to what you stood for as an in-ring competitor. I idolized the ground you walked on. I had the t-shirts, the action figures, everything. It’s quite ironic that you call yourself the dead man, because, trust me, you are dead – yet living in the form that is nothing but a shell of what once was! You went from claiming souls to claiming checks. You’re part of the reason that I first laced up a pair of boots, Undertaker. And now, the reason I started my training has vanished before my very eyes.
But this goes far beyond the Undertaker. My putting the Undertaker to sleep was nothing more than a warning shot to all competitors in the PCW. A being like they’ve never before seen is now upon them. One that knows no boundaries and lives by no rules but his own. I am free from the bondage that the rest of the roster willingly shackles themselves up in like lambs on the path to the slaughterhouse! I know no addiction other than the addiction to compete within the confines of the squared circle! PCW, you’ve been put on warning. I am here to purify you. I am here not to add to my own fame or pad my own pockets. I have arrived to restore the HONOR to the wrestling world! I am here… to fulfill the purpose of my training… my sacrifice. I am here… to bring down my nemesis that is dishonor.
CM Punk lowers his head, being emotionally drained from the previous rampage he went on. The shadow cast by the hood on his head covered his eyes; however, quicker than expected, he obtained a second wind of energy and lifted his head, eyes blazing.
CM Punk: Starting with tonight, my suffering comes to its glorious culmination. It reaches the promised land as I pick apart those that stand against my beliefs one by one by one, hurling them to their pitiful and pathetic demise – forcing them to lay in the bed of bondage that they have created! It started with the Undertaker and will end with no one! You will all come to know why I am the way that I am. Why I say the things I say. I AM DRUG FREE! ALCOHOL FREE! STRAIGHT EDGE!! BETTER THAN YOU!
And with that, CM Punk crosses his arms in an x shape over his chest before pushing the lens of the camera, forcing the camera to the ground before the scene cuts…