Post by Brett on Feb 2, 2022 1:40:26 GMT
The shocking cold in the night air of Chicago, IL is enough to make any man question why they’d choose to live in the heart of the Midwest. Accompanying the cold air is a powdery snow falling in sheets from the overcast clouds above. The street lights above on the block look like angelic halos of ice and snow. They’re like little beacons piercing the black and gray sky. A blizzard rocked Chicago this week, leaving the city much quieter than usual. In this residential neighborhood on the North side, city plows haven’t even started to clear the roadways. In the distance, we see one man trudging through calf deep snow.
You try to get a closer look at the man. Hidden underneath multiple layers of heavy winter gear and obscured by frost and ice collecting on his eyebrows and face, you recognize a wry smile from Colt Cabana. Unsure of where the Chicago native and prolific independent wrestler is headed in the middle of a blizzard and we’re along to find out just where his destination is. Colt's right hand clutches something wrapped in a plastic bag. It’s probably takeout or some other stash of supplies that Colt has gathered to weather this storm. Hopefully he’s heading somewhere to thaw out and enjoy his goods.
Colt takes a diagonal left turn toward a brick apartment building. He scurries under the awning to try and get a little protection from the increasing snowfall. Colt reaches out with his left hand and uses his fat, gloved finger to press a call button for one of the residents. It buzzes loudly and he waits for a response. After a few seconds of waiting with no response, Colt mutters to himself before pressing the button again.
COLT CABANA: Come on, Punk. I’m freezing my tuchas off out here.
After another moment, Colt mashes the button again. It buzzes loudly. After a moment, Colt can hear the crackle from the audio connection. Someone is listening on the other line, even if they aren’t talking.
COLT CABANA: Open up, Punk. It’s me! I’m freezing out here.
No response, but the line is still active.
COLT CABANA: I brought food! I know you’re hungry.
There’s another pause. After a second the line goes dead. The door buzzes and the lock clicks open, letting Colt in. He fumbles to push the door open and scurries inside where it’s just a little bit warmer. Colt kicks the snow off his boots and removes his hood and hat. He takes a deep breath before looking at the long, steep stairwell that leads to Punk’s 4th floor walk up.
COLT CABANA: All the cash that Punk’s stashed away and he won’t move out into a place with an elevator. No wonder AJ left him.
Cabana starts to trudge up the stairs. He talks to himself a bit more as he climbs.
COLT CABANA: I still can’t believe it’s come to this. Those two are the dream couple. I was convinced they’d last forever. But then she leaves him for John Cena? We’re not talking about Make-a-Wish, Hollywood actor John Cena. But mid-2000’s chain and spinner belt Thuganomics John Cena. It’s just so….weird.
Colt turns a corner and heads up another set of stairs.
COLT CABANA: I know Punk doesn’t want me around. The guy fucking hates me with good reason. But the past few years have been hell for all of us. So why shouldn’t we make up? I hate that I haven’t been able to support him as he hit rock bottom. What better peace offering is there than a bag of tacos and a bitch session about his ex-wife?
Cabana reaches the top of the stairs and stops right in front of the door to Punk’s apartment. He takes a deep breath and knocks loudly three times. After a long pause he’s about to reach up and knock again, but the door swiftly unlocks and swings open. Punk doesn’t even acknowledge Cabana, turning away from Colt and walking toward the bedroom. He yells out something as he walks away.
CM PUNK: Hey asshole. Drop the food on the counter and get the fuck out of here. I don’t have time to deal with your bullshit tonight.
COLT CABANA: Duly noted. But you’re going to have to throw me out the window to get rid of me. And I’m taking the tacos with me.
Punk pauses with his back to Cabana. He turns around and walks over to Colt. He snatches the bag of his hand and starts to dig out a couple of tacos.
CM PUNK: Fine. You can stay here until you thaw out. I’m only letting you in because I don’t want to be responsible for you dying of hypothermia out there.
COLT CABANA: If you want to have a sleepover, all you have to do is ask.
CM PUNK: …fuck you.
Colt stifles a laugh. He digs into the bag and grabs a couple of tacos too. He sits down at the counter and starts to unwrap them carefully.
COLT CABANA: Listen, I know I’m probably the last person you want to see. But I couldn’t help but think about how shitty you must be feeling after AJ left. I was feeling so sorry for you that I bundled up in subzero temperatures, bought a bag of tacos and walked through a freakin’ blizzard just to come and try to mend fences with you. Admit it, Punk. You need a friend right now. And frankly, I need you to forgive me if I’m going to move on with my life.
CM PUNK: I don’t want to talk about it.
COLT CABANA: Fine. Don’t talk. But I’m going to be a friend. That’s a truth you’re going to need to live with.
Punk doesn’t respond. He unwraps a taco and takes a bite, ignoring Colt
COLT CABANA: Well, I didn’t hear you say no. That’s progress. I am going to ask you one question though. You need to get over AJ leaving. Yeah, she broke your heart. But you’re a bigger man than this. When this blizzard passes and snow melts, what are you going to do to move past this?
Punk laughs slightly. He shakes his head and continues eating.
COLT CABANA: Come on. I’m here to help you get over her. What are you going to do next?
CM PUNK: Well, I have a flight to New Orleans booked for tomorrow morning.
COLT CABANA: Nice! A little time down where it’s warm…oh, wait a second.
Punk nods his head as he looks at Colt with an intensity in his eyes that is unrivaled.
CM PUNK: That’s right, Colt. I’m not giving her up without a fight. John Cena wants to steal my girl and then rub it in by running around WLCW with her? Well, he’s going to get something I know he didn’t wish for. I signed a contract with Foley and I will hunt down John Cena for the rest of his days until he pays for what he took from me.
Colt looks at CM Punk with a look of concern on his face.
COLT CABANA: God help anyone that gets in your way now.
CM PUNK: That’s right. I will take apart every man on the roster one by one until I get John Cena. I am a man possessed!
Colt Cabana breathes deeply and nods his head in agreement. The scene cuts to black.
You try to get a closer look at the man. Hidden underneath multiple layers of heavy winter gear and obscured by frost and ice collecting on his eyebrows and face, you recognize a wry smile from Colt Cabana. Unsure of where the Chicago native and prolific independent wrestler is headed in the middle of a blizzard and we’re along to find out just where his destination is. Colt's right hand clutches something wrapped in a plastic bag. It’s probably takeout or some other stash of supplies that Colt has gathered to weather this storm. Hopefully he’s heading somewhere to thaw out and enjoy his goods.
Colt takes a diagonal left turn toward a brick apartment building. He scurries under the awning to try and get a little protection from the increasing snowfall. Colt reaches out with his left hand and uses his fat, gloved finger to press a call button for one of the residents. It buzzes loudly and he waits for a response. After a few seconds of waiting with no response, Colt mutters to himself before pressing the button again.
COLT CABANA: Come on, Punk. I’m freezing my tuchas off out here.
After another moment, Colt mashes the button again. It buzzes loudly. After a moment, Colt can hear the crackle from the audio connection. Someone is listening on the other line, even if they aren’t talking.
COLT CABANA: Open up, Punk. It’s me! I’m freezing out here.
No response, but the line is still active.
COLT CABANA: I brought food! I know you’re hungry.
There’s another pause. After a second the line goes dead. The door buzzes and the lock clicks open, letting Colt in. He fumbles to push the door open and scurries inside where it’s just a little bit warmer. Colt kicks the snow off his boots and removes his hood and hat. He takes a deep breath before looking at the long, steep stairwell that leads to Punk’s 4th floor walk up.
COLT CABANA: All the cash that Punk’s stashed away and he won’t move out into a place with an elevator. No wonder AJ left him.
Cabana starts to trudge up the stairs. He talks to himself a bit more as he climbs.
COLT CABANA: I still can’t believe it’s come to this. Those two are the dream couple. I was convinced they’d last forever. But then she leaves him for John Cena? We’re not talking about Make-a-Wish, Hollywood actor John Cena. But mid-2000’s chain and spinner belt Thuganomics John Cena. It’s just so….weird.
Colt turns a corner and heads up another set of stairs.
COLT CABANA: I know Punk doesn’t want me around. The guy fucking hates me with good reason. But the past few years have been hell for all of us. So why shouldn’t we make up? I hate that I haven’t been able to support him as he hit rock bottom. What better peace offering is there than a bag of tacos and a bitch session about his ex-wife?
Cabana reaches the top of the stairs and stops right in front of the door to Punk’s apartment. He takes a deep breath and knocks loudly three times. After a long pause he’s about to reach up and knock again, but the door swiftly unlocks and swings open. Punk doesn’t even acknowledge Cabana, turning away from Colt and walking toward the bedroom. He yells out something as he walks away.
CM PUNK: Hey asshole. Drop the food on the counter and get the fuck out of here. I don’t have time to deal with your bullshit tonight.
COLT CABANA: Duly noted. But you’re going to have to throw me out the window to get rid of me. And I’m taking the tacos with me.
Punk pauses with his back to Cabana. He turns around and walks over to Colt. He snatches the bag of his hand and starts to dig out a couple of tacos.
CM PUNK: Fine. You can stay here until you thaw out. I’m only letting you in because I don’t want to be responsible for you dying of hypothermia out there.
COLT CABANA: If you want to have a sleepover, all you have to do is ask.
CM PUNK: …fuck you.
Colt stifles a laugh. He digs into the bag and grabs a couple of tacos too. He sits down at the counter and starts to unwrap them carefully.
COLT CABANA: Listen, I know I’m probably the last person you want to see. But I couldn’t help but think about how shitty you must be feeling after AJ left. I was feeling so sorry for you that I bundled up in subzero temperatures, bought a bag of tacos and walked through a freakin’ blizzard just to come and try to mend fences with you. Admit it, Punk. You need a friend right now. And frankly, I need you to forgive me if I’m going to move on with my life.
CM PUNK: I don’t want to talk about it.
COLT CABANA: Fine. Don’t talk. But I’m going to be a friend. That’s a truth you’re going to need to live with.
Punk doesn’t respond. He unwraps a taco and takes a bite, ignoring Colt
COLT CABANA: Well, I didn’t hear you say no. That’s progress. I am going to ask you one question though. You need to get over AJ leaving. Yeah, she broke your heart. But you’re a bigger man than this. When this blizzard passes and snow melts, what are you going to do to move past this?
Punk laughs slightly. He shakes his head and continues eating.
COLT CABANA: Come on. I’m here to help you get over her. What are you going to do next?
CM PUNK: Well, I have a flight to New Orleans booked for tomorrow morning.
COLT CABANA: Nice! A little time down where it’s warm…oh, wait a second.
Punk nods his head as he looks at Colt with an intensity in his eyes that is unrivaled.
CM PUNK: That’s right, Colt. I’m not giving her up without a fight. John Cena wants to steal my girl and then rub it in by running around WLCW with her? Well, he’s going to get something I know he didn’t wish for. I signed a contract with Foley and I will hunt down John Cena for the rest of his days until he pays for what he took from me.
Colt looks at CM Punk with a look of concern on his face.
COLT CABANA: God help anyone that gets in your way now.
CM PUNK: That’s right. I will take apart every man on the roster one by one until I get John Cena. I am a man possessed!
Colt Cabana breathes deeply and nods his head in agreement. The scene cuts to black.