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Scene One: Miseria Cantare (The Beginning)  

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[x] 7-15-S1 ||| Chicago, Il [x] 

Just a few miles far-east of the center of Chicago, there stood a run down motel. Druggies, addicts, and the homeless pretty much run the place. Rats were pets to these people, the next needle was their food for the day, and their hopes and dreams were loss. Going through the motel, to the top on the roof stood a man who held none of these morals. Sporting a Misfits T-Shirt, an AFI jacket, piercings, long hair, and a pair of pumped up kicks, this man wasn't your typical run of the mill crackhead. This punk rocker was known to the wrestling world as CM Punk. His face wore the expression of a man passion, beginning to speak as he rested his forearms on the edge of the roof, looking amongst the city.

CM Punk: It's pretty obvious, that when you think of Chicago, you think of a few things. A town of infestation, a beacon for murders, rapists, and scumbags to roam the streets... appealing, isn't it?

He looked to the camera with a raise of the eyebrows, adding a bit of sarcasm in his voice on that last line.

CM Punk: As disgusting on the outside as this place might be, it still holds some value in my heart. This place, it toughened me up.

He shrugs, pressing himself back off of the edge with his hands as he continued on.

CM Punk: In a home where I didn't know if I was going to have dinner, in a school where I got bullied for being "different", Chicago's not for the feint of heart. It wasn't for me at first, but sooner or later, you have to toughen up. You have to learn how to be resliant, and keep your head on straight to see through life. I could be a resident of this gross, lifeless motel if it weren't for one thing.

Punk's next action was simple, and got his point across, as he showed off his knuckles, which had "S T R A I G H T  E D G E" tattooed across them. He spoke as he left this powerful message up.

CM Punk: This was what got me through this life. These two words mean the world to me, and in the face of oppisition, it should paint a clear picture of who I am. To be straight edge is to abstain from nicotine, drugs, or alcohol.

He dropped his hands, looking straight at the camera.

CM Punk: In a world where people clutch to their vices, where weak men feel invincible by getting a quick swig of their booze, I am the alternative. I, am the man that leads this new generation of not only professional wrestling, but the youth of America today. I know to the IWF fans, some of you know who I am, and others, couldn't care less. You might hate me for what I believe in, but you have no choice but to respect what I've done.

Punk puts up a single finger, keeping the passion and bass in his voice alive.

CM Punk: When a promotion that advertised the honor to be brought back into the ring needed a man to lead them, I was there. I captured their world title, and dominated the scene, cementing my legacy with great effect.

He put up another.

CM Punk: When a guitar swinging revolutionist needed someone to fill the niche of a "punk rock kid" for his brand of total nonstop action, I filled the role and went above and beyond the call of duty.

He put up a third and final finger, taking a pause.

CM Punk: Now?... Now, the Insane Federation Wrestling is looking for someone to fill the role of champion.

He let his hand drop, rolling on with his words.

CM Punk: This task at hand isn't an easy one. I have to get through three other men to capture the United States Championship. Two of those men, are master-class wrestlers... while the other?... Heh...

He couldn't help but accidentally smirk, rubbing his face down before continuing.

CM Punk: The other is Raven. A man, who in that "honorable" ring I mentioned earlier, I defeated on numerous occasions. I understand that the IWF is a clean slate, that by the books, we're just meeting for the first time, but this is my time to speak, and I deal in facts. You see, the fact is Raven, I've told you my life story. I've told you how much you remind me of my lazy, garabage, drunken father, and that holds so true to right now. Look at your competition; an Olympic Gold Medalist, a reverred technical wrestler, and the guy who's kicked your ass up and down from Philly to Baltimore. The guy, who exposed you for what you really are, and ran you out of the promotion I helped built.

By this point, the smirk was gone. No longer was this just an "accidental bump in", as Punk's tone was more serious.

CM Punk: These matches have rules. You're forced to do away with the weapons, and have to actually fight with your bare hands for once. I don't fear you, Raven. I don't fear your 10 minute rants about society, and I don't fear you in that ring. I built my short career off of the status of you and legends like Ricky Steamboat, and neither of you have been able to recapture that glory after I was through with you. Like a ghost haunting you Raven, I'm here, usurping your hope of trying to be a champion. You are the old guard, trying to take away these spots from a younger, much better generation... and why? Because you feel like it? Because you're depressed? You're delusional, and just like the first time, I'll beat you. I'll show that your ego-fueld dreams of being a champion again are just that, dreams. We've seen the same old tired tactic again and again with you, but I'm the cure to the cancer you want to spread. I am the end of the Raven, and once I beat Kurt Angle, then, if you somehow manage to beat Lance Storm,  I will clip your feathers, you will never set your foot in my ring again. Quote The Punk... nevermore.

With that, Punk stared intensely into the camera, as it faded to black.

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 Scene Two: American Idiot 

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[x] 7-16-S1 ||| Chicago, Il [x] 

"AT THE COPA! (CO!) COPACABNA! (COPACABANA!)"

Barry Manilow's hit track "Copacabana" plays as a title card flashes across the screen, advertising "GOOD TIMES, GREAT MEMORIES". After a quick, flashy transtion, we see our host, Colt Cabana, sitting behind a desk with a few odds and ends, wearing a big dumb grin on his face.

Colt Cabana: Welcome! Welcome! Grab your seats! Not you tons of fun, you're takin' up two seats with each cheek! Welcome, to GOOD TIMES, GREAT MEMORIES! I am your host, "Classic" Colt Cabana, and boy, do I have a fun show lined up today!

The music cuts off, as Cabana clears his throat.

Colt Cabana: Mi-mi-mi-miiiii... mo-mo-mo-mooooooooo... alright! Well folks, I gotta tell ya, the pro wrasslin' scene is BOOMing with excitement with the announcement of a brand SPANKIN' new federation! Ya might have heard of it! Can I get some audience participation?!

He waits, but considering there is no audience, he waves them away if there was.

Colt Cabana: Tough crowd! Well, IWF, the Insane Wrestling Federation to be exact, is what's hip! It's cool! It's Insaaaaane! It's good in the hood! Superstars from around the world are lining up just to be here! Well... about 8 guys in total... but still, it's pretty groovy already! In fact, I live with one of those "superstars", in the form of CM Punk!

He pushes a soundboard on his desk, activating an appaulse. He takes the opened can of Pepsi sitting there and takes a quick swig. He shrugs.

Colt Cabana: I prefer Coca-Cola, to be fair, but hey, it's a great alternative. While I'm still struttin' my stuff on the indies, I got my main man doing his thing in the big time! Now, you know the name. Straight Edge, a party pooper, kind of an asshole to be honest with you... BUT, overall, a good guy with good morals. Not only does he let me live here for a low rent, BUT, he's making his case to be the first EVER IWF United States Champ! Pretty cool huh? But of course, for every good story, there has to be a conflict! Take for instance, the three other guys trying to claim that prize. You've got Raven, the poster-child for edgy teenagers who still listen to Nirvana, Kurt Angle, who's poppin' more pills then an old man on viagra, AND, Lance Storm, who is... uh... hmm...

He ponders, scratching his head in confusion.

Colt Cabana: He's there, I guess? Over the course of Lance Storm's career, he's been regarded as a greaaaat wrestler. Sure, he's duller then a butter knife, and has possibly the WORST catchphrase in the sport, but... if I could be... serious for a moment!

He hits a button on the soundboard to make a "WAH-WAH-WAAAAAAAH" noise, knowing how lame it was to recite such an awful line.

Colt Cabana: He's a tough cookie. Like, a boring cookie. The kind of cookie you wouldn't even feed the ants in the ground. But he's a tough challenge for the Punker. A former ECW tag champ, and the only person to ever hold the WCW Hardcore, United States, AND Cruiserweight Championships, Storm has provne one thing; he's a great mid-carder! See, I know it sucks not being a main eventer. And it sucks just being a good wrestler, because even if you try your best to break through that ceiling, you my Canuckian friend, never have. I call it like it is! And I see a guy who's pretty much doomed in the IWF. But worry not, as I, Colt C. Cabana, have just the thing you need, the thing that will make you go from the Marty Janetty of the Impact Players, to the Aldo Montoya of the IWF... a brand NEW theme song!

Cabana searches his soundboard for a moment, before going "ah" to himself, pressing the button. A few moments pass of silence, before the Village People's "YMCA" plays.

Colt Cabana: YOUNG MAN! THERE'S NO NEED TO FEEL DOWN, I SAID YOUNG MAN! BEDEHBEBHEMMMMHMMM IT'S FUN TO STAY AT THE YYYYYYYYYYYY-M-C-A! YYYYYYYYYYY-M-CA-

???: CABANA!

Cabana looked to his left and quickly hit a button on the soundboard to activate a record scratch, as his roommate, and fellow member of The Second City Saints, CM Punk, walked in from the side, staring down at Cabana with a pissed off look.

CM Punk: It's 2 AM in the morning, I'm trying to sleep, and you're up here GOOFING AROUND! Playing YMCA for God knows what reason. The hell is all of this? The desk? The camera?

Colt Cabana: Uh... Good times, Great memories?

Punk groaned, facepalming.

CM Punk: Not this again. Look, I'm serious, pack all of this up, and just keep it quiet.

Colt Cabana: I was just, ya know... talkin' trash. I got Lance Storm covered for you already.

CM Punk: Did you call him boring?

Colt Cabana: Yup.

CM Punk: ... I honestly have nothing else but that on him.

Colt Cabana: Me either! Crazy huh?

Punk looked to the camera, putting on his "gameface", as Cabana tried to put one of his own on.

CM Punk: In that case, you heard the man Lance. But you see, as I stand here, having to think of something else to say, I can gurantee you that if the finals include the two of us, that I'm more then capable of taking you down. Cabana might make jokes at your expense, but in no way will I be treating you like this is a joke. This match, this new opportunity, is my very livelyhood. With the IWF, I have a chance to show the world that Straight Edge is the way to succeed at life and it's many troubles. You're a fantastic wrestler, you have the tools to beat anyone on any given day, but for every hold you have, I have a counter. In that ring, I can go any style on any given night. Whether it's wrestling Raven in a No DQ match, or trading holds with you until I get the pinfall, I am a multi-versital competitor. You may not have reached a level of success near the main event scene, but I would be honored to face you for this title. I'd be honored to say I beat Lance Storm to cement my legacy in this company with that United States title. You're more experienced, you are to some degree, a better technical wrestler, but what you lack is the fire burning in my heart. You lack the motivation to focus on something greater then yourself. What I offer, is a new way of life for these fans, and I fight for them as well as myself.

Cabana in the background nods, putting on a goofy eye-brow raise.

Colt Cabana: And how about that cue-ball, Kurt Angle?

Punk looked to his left and smacked the arm of Cabana, who looked stunned and somewhat annoyed, as Punk looked back at the screen.

CM Punk: Like Lance Storm, I respect the hell out of you, Angle. I respect the resiliance you posses. For years now, you've talked about how you overcame a broken neck just to win Olympic Gold. To a lot of these fans, you're a hero, and someone who believes the US Title was made for them. I couldn't disagree with that anymore. These kids look up to you for that one accomplishment, and ignore the open secret that is your addiction to pain killers. Pain is temporary, but glory is forever is a nice motto I live by. I've been in pain, just like you. We're both human, but what seperates us is our strategy to deal with it. I live with this pain of being in a broken society, riddled with those that abuse substances to live their life, while keeping true to who I am, while you induldge in these vices to numb the pain. I don't hate you, I just feel sorry for you. Like a homeless man trying to get a quick fix, you're nothing more then a former shell of a great athlete. Come the 26th of July, right in the Pepsi Center, when you and I lock horns, there won't be anything to help you deal with the pain. Once I hit you with the Pepsi Plunge, and raise that IWF United States Title over my head, you will know the ultimate pain there is that no dealer on the street can help you with; being exposed for the fraud you are. I am the face of this America, I AM the man that will lead everyone to freedom... and I am the man who will win this tournament.

He took a deep breath, letting his words flow through the air, as Cabana looked on with an impressive nod, he reached for the button, but Punk swiped it up and tossed it off camera to hit the wall.

Colt Cabana: Woaaaah! That costed me a fortune!

CM Punk: QUIT WASTING YOUR MONEY ON STUPID SHIT THEN!

He marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him, as Cabana stuck his tounge out.

Colt Cabana: Never!

With that, the scene fades away to black.