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The Reign Of Punk Begins
Topic Started: 12 Mar 2016, 06:00 PM (16 Views)
CM Punk
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Previously on
INDIANA PUNK AND THE LAST CRUSADE

[ The year is 1938. Whilst the atrocities of World War II continue to tear the collective world apart, there is a far more pressing issue, wherein the stakes could not be higher. After getting word that his father had disappeared searching for the Holy Grail, dashing Indiana Punk has scoured the globe to find his estranged (and, for some reason, Scottish) forebearer, and along the way has discovered the shocking truth - the Grail may just be out there. Not only that, but according to legend, it will only show itself to a man who is pure of purpose - and will afford him the opportunity to destroy his insane, evil nemesis. ]

[ Of course, for Indiana Punk, this means one thing: a way to totally and utterly break Kevin Owens sanity. Why? Well, to answer that, this whole thing would have to make some kind of sense. To simply crowbar a movie plotline into an already existing professional wrestling story isn't going to be the most cohesive design for a story, no, but will it be entertaining? You're damn right. ]

[ And so, along with a sultry, German or Austrian or something else blonde that helped his father with his quest before his mysterious disappearance, they have discovered vital clues deep within the catacombs laying beneath a library that point towards not only the Grail itself, but to the father of our story's hero. After numerous daring heroics involving flaming walls of death and speedboat chases among other things, Indiana Punk found his dear old distant Dad locked away in a Nazi castle. After having some kind of vase smashed over his head and a lot of ensuing confusion, the young Punk and his old man have been accosted by their evil adversaries henchman. ]

[ Is this a movie parody? Is this a scripted segment on FWI television? Or is this simply some kind of dream, invented in a parallel universe where fully grown men act out their fantasies over message boards? That's for you to decide, but that's of no consequence - the race is on against the forces of evil to find the one thing the heroic archaeologist, professor and best damn professional wrestler alive covets more than anything else; ]

[ The Holy Grail, and of the utmost importance, what is contained inside of it: a list of ways to drive Owens utterly insane. ]
________________________________________________________
[ As we rejoin the scene, Indiana Punk and Professor Henry Brooks are being hustled and bustled down the hallways of the old, European castle that the Nazi's saw fit to turn into a secret fortress. Both men are wearing wonderful beards, but that can't help them now as they're slung through a big wooden door, bringing them face to face with the stereotypical Nazi commander. His uniform is immaculate, head to toe, with his ill gotten medals proudly fastened upon his chest. In front of him, causing Punk's face to drop, is his new beau, and his father's old assistant, Elsa, who looks suspiciously like Maria Kanellis with her hair died blonde. Her eyes are the levee that is about to break, swelling with water as Vogel holds his Luger pistol to her neck. ]

VOGEL: Ah, Doctor Punk ...a pleasure to make your acquaintance again!

INDIANA PUNK: Elsa ...

ELSA: INDYYYYY!

INDIANA PUNK: For future reference, yelling at me does not make me want to save you any faster.

[ Like a bolt of lightning surging through his hands, Punk whips out his pistol from a well hidden holster that Vogel's inept men had clearly missed and takes aim at the very embodiment of evil. Still, the Colonel pushes his weapon harder into Elsa's neck, leaving an imprint as Punk falters, unsure of whether to take the shot. ]

VOGEL: I implore you, Mister Punk, put ze weapon DOWN!!

INDIANA PUNK: If I put it down, you'll paint the walls with my brain.

VOGEL: And if you don't ...I'll paint them with hers.

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: Don't listen to them, Junior - she's working for them.

[ In an insanely thick Scottish accent that causes most syllables to apparently form into "sh" sounds, Punk's father chimes in. Elsa looks Punk dead in his eyes, and the Straight Edge Archaeologist just can't resist those cold blue daggers, piercing his rugged, lone wolf heart. ]

INDIANA PUNK: No ...she wants to keep the grail from the hands of Angle just as much as I do, Dad. She helped me find you!

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: You always were a sucker for the ladies, weren't you lad?

[ Both men sigh heavily, for very different reasons. Vogel still has his gun pressed into Elsa's neck, letting Punk weigh her life in the balance. From underneath his tall-crowned, wide-brimmed fedora, Punk bites his lip, struggling with the possibility of surrendering, but ultimately slams his firearm down on the table and slides it down the beautiful oak surface to Vogel. With that, Vogel releases Elsa, who slinks into Punk's arms, staring deep into his eyes. ]

ELSA: I'm sorry, Punk ...

INDIANA PUNK: Oh God damn it.

[ Not for one second removing her gaze, she slips a hand into Punk's battered leather jacket, and slides the diary of Punk's father out from the interior pocket. Vogel's evil Nazi grin takes over his face as his partner in crime returns to his side, with the diary in tow. In the background, Punk's father hangs his head in disbelief. ]

ELSA: You must not find the Grail before we do. It would be, how do you say? ...Counter-productive.

INDIANA PUNK: Where's Karen Allen when you need her? Hell, I'll even take the chick from Temple of Doom over this. Are you serious? You're a Nazi?!?

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: I tried to tell you ...

INDIANA PUNK: Nazi's really do want Kevin Owens to reign as The Man. Huh. Who would've thought?

VOGEL: SILENCE!!

[ With a clenched fist, Vogel introduces the table to his hand with a frightening force, making everybody in the room jump out of their skin. ]

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: Please, watch the veneer; that's an antique.

VOGEL: What about "silence" is it you Americans do not understand?! Yet, I digress; there is somebody else who may be able to explain this better than I ...somebody I think you know very well.

[ With a cackle originating from pure hellfire and brimstone, our evil Nazi commander throws his head back as Elsa looks on, the diary now in the hands of those that would use it for the greatest depravity of all - allowing Pot to escape the wrath of Indiana Punk unscathed. ]

[ Minutes later, held at gunpoint, our valiant heroes are in a vast, ornate dining room within the fortified castle walls. Vogel and Elsa stand by an open roaring fire, as Punk and Sean Connery, or his "father", stand by, waiting for the reveal of the mastermind. Standing up from the chair is a bald man, looking disturbingly like Owens dressed in a pale blue suit reserved only for the most annoying and upper crust British of 1980's movie villains, he smirks at upending the two Brooks'. ]

INDIANA PUNK: And - I mean - Donovan. You too? I really should've seen the Aryan pin-up girl betrayal coming. But you in league with them? What have you gotten yourself into?

WALTER DONOVAN: I haven't gotten myself into anything. You see, Punk, Kevin is the greatest professional wrestler of all time, the man with three I's.

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: If somebody was born with three eyes back in Scotland, laddeh, nobody would bat an eyelid.

INDIANA PUNK: ...

WALTER DONOVAN: ...

VOGEL: ...

ELSA: ...

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: ...

INDIANA PUNK: What the hell, Dad?

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: What?

WALTER DONOVAN: Anyway ...Colonel Vogel and I both have something in common. By finding the grail first, we ensure that Kevin Owens will take his rightful place at the mountaintop of FWI. We were simply hoping that you'd lead us to the Grail with few problems. It seems, however, that you have a penchant for causing trouble, Punk.

INDIANA PUNK: I've been known to cause a controversy, here and there. Believe me, Donovan, you're only a few scenes away from finding out about this trouble I'm so famous for first hand.

WALTER DONOVAN: Precious, Punk, but I think not. You see, now that we have the diary, we have little use for you or your father. Now, we can go after the Grail ourselves and protect Kevin with none of your meddling. Vogel! Deal with them, and make sure they suffer. As my new friends would say: "Auf wiedersehen", Punk.

[ With the conniving Elsa in possession of the diary, Donovan leave the room with her, leaving the psychopathic Vogel to his desires. Pulling out a heavy set rope, with two Nazi goons pulling a couple of chairs together, seating them back-to-back, it becomes clear that both Brooks Senior and Junior are about to be in a whole world of trouble, both of their eyes wide with poorly acted fear. ]

VOGEL: Being a characterless, evil incarnate ...I will enjoy this.

REEL MISSING, THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.

[ Having used their steely wits under pressure, Indiana Punk speeds away from the castle, complete with flames billowing from the windows, atop a motorbike, with his hapless father sitting comfortably in a side car. With the shockingly stupid Nazi's foiled so easily, an easy escape has been made until the Punk Dynasty reaches a crossroads. Not figuratively, in the form of a deep scar left from generations of inter family conflict, but instead a literal crossroads. One sign points to Berlin, and the other towards Venice. Out of nowhere, the elder "Brooks" grabs the break, screeching the bike to a dead stop. ]

INDIANA PUNK: What are you doing? We have to get out of here; they're going to be hot on our trail!

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: Listen Junior, that devil woman took the diary. She and Donovan are undoubtedly headed to Berlin - and therefore, so are we.

[ Punk's eyes narrow as he shifts in his seat, legitimately curious as to why this would require them to follow. ]

INDIANA PUNK: I don't know where you've been for this whole insane episode, Dad, but these are Nazi's. Nazi's are from Germany, and Berlin is the capital of that country. Now, as we've spent the past few days taking the coveted number one spot on Hitler's most wanted list, I think Berlin is probably the worst possible idea in the history of the Earth until they make a film featuring me looking for aliens. Seeing as nobody in their right mind would allow that to happen, your idea of us driving to Berlin to get your diary back is sitting pretty at the top of the pile. Besides, now that I've found you, we don't need the diary anymore, right?

[ A telling silence is the only response Punk gets, as the realization sinks in. ]

INDIANA PUNK: Please, tell me you remember what you wrote in the diary?

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: Funny thing, that ...because no, I don't. At all.

INDIANA PUNK: Isn't that just perfect. What are we supposed to do now, old man?! Ride into Berlin, take Adolf by the hand and say "thanks for the hospitality but we really need to take our diary back and stop evil from taking over the world"?

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: So ...you don't think that'll work?

[ It takes everything in our hero to not simply curl up in a ball on the side of the road, insert his thumb into his mouth and rock himself to sleep after a complete mental breakdown. Still, with the world in dire jeopardy, it takes a true man rocking a leather jacket and fedora like no other to pull himself together. ]

INDIANA PUNK: No, I don't think that will work. But I know that if the Grail falls into the hands of the Nazi's - or worse, Pot - the armies of darkness will march all over the Earth.

DR. PHILLIP BROOKS: Army of Darkness? Hey, I love that movie!

INDIANA PUNK: God dammit, man. Just sit in the sidecar and try not to get us into anything worse than we're already mixed up in. We're going to Berlin.

DAYS LATER, AFTER RECOVERING THE DIARY, DESTROYING A TANK FROM HORSEBACK, AND NUMEROUS OTHER THRILLING HEROICS, PUNK APPROACHES THE GRAIL ...

[ Thanks to the numerous time skips allowing us to avoid any kinks in this story, Indiana Punk is now approaching the room within which the Grail is held. Having overcome Nazi's, tanks and even an aerial dogfight, the desert has almost defeated him. Yet, with his father suffering outside courtesy of Walter Donovan, he pulled through with all his might. Crawling through a tiny hole in the jagged rock face, he enters a room with cup after extravagant cup lining a shelf that stretches around half of the room. Sitting inside, dressed as a Knight, is a man with wisdom in his eyes. In turn, he looks into Punk's, and sees his intention is nothing to be afraid of. ]

GRAIL GUARDIAN: Finally ...I've been waiting seven hundred years for you to get here.

INDIANA PUNK: Seven hundred? Uhhh ...the traffic was really something on the way over here -

GRAIL GUARDIAN: No matter. It seems it is time for the torch to be passed, but to carry the torch, you must choose it yourself. Of all these cups, only one is the true Grail. I warn you, young warrior, choose wisely - one path will cause of
Owens insane rage, to almost comical effect. The other, however ...the other will turn that insanity onto you. We cannot let Owens reign again, but it is only in your power to stop this from happening. Choose ...

WALTER DONOVAN: I think I'll be choosing if you don't mind.

[ From seemingly nowhere, the slimy Donovan has slithered his way into the Grail's holding chamber, with Elsa along for the ride. Holding a pistol, somehow even a Knight from the First Crusade knows this is bad news, Donovan approaches the cups and chalices, staring at them with perverted wonder. ]

INDIANA PUNK: Listen, Donovan, you don't know what you're doing ...this is power too dangerous to play with.

WALTER DONOVAN: Play? My dear boy, who said anything about playing? This is as serious as it gets. When I choose the correct cup, it will only be a matter of time before Kevin Owens is a success here in FWI and darkness will fall across the world ...of professional wrestling.

[ With his world threatened, Punk goes to leap forward, but Donovan keeps him at length, with thanks mainly going to his pistol for creating such obedient crowd control. ]

WALTER DONOVAN: Elsa, you read the diary ...collect the Grail and hand it to me.

[ Elsa looks, back and forth, but only briefly. She seems sure that, as she picks up a golden chalice, with numerous, and no doubt priceless, gems adorning it, she has claimed the right container for Donovan to drink from. Donovan looks upon it, caressing it with his right hand. ]

INDIANA PUNK: If you're gonna start making out with the cup, warn me first.

WALTER DONOVAN: Always with the jokes, even in the face of imminent destruction. Once I take a drink from this, I will have the power to restore Owens to his glory, and you, Punk, you will NEVER defeat him!

[ With purpose, Donovan strides over to the shallow, stone fountain that is home to whatever mystic water that he will drink from with the intent of allowing Kevins Nazi evil to become the dominant force from Berlin to Bangkok and everywhere in between. Elsa shoots a look of concern at Punk, who in turn shoots one of confusion. Is this two faced, Hitler-loving Jezebel turning over a new leaf? Regardless, Donovan scoops up a cup full, as he looks over to Punk, his eyes brimming with insanity. Taking a drink, the Owens lookalike seems happy for a few seconds, before some kind of supernatural force starts tearing at him. Grabbing at a shrieking Elsa, with the best effects that you could get in 1989, Donovan's hair grows out, and his face ages rapidly until his skin is horrifically melting from the bone, leaving only a dusty, old skull in place of the life before it. With skeletal hands still grabbing her uniform, Elsa looks to Punk for answers. Punk can only shrug and offer stinging sarcasm. ]

GRAIL GUARDIAN: He chose ...poorly.

INDIANA PUNK: He really should've moisturized.

[ Immediately returning to the task at hand, Punk leaves an almost hysterical Elsa as the Guardian looks on, not shocked or even troubled by the insane and frankly poorly plotted events he's just witnessed. 700 years will do that to a man. ]

INDIANA PUNK: The cup revealing Kevin's weakness ...a loss...it has to be ...

[ Extending his hand outwards, Punk grabs a small goblet from behind a giant container - the one he has chosen is dressed in a Stars and Stripes singlet. ]

INDIANA PUNK: One thing you can always rely on, as far as Owens goes - there's not a lot of room for subtlety. Wish me luck.

[ The blonde vixen continues staring on, expressing no desire to expand on her acting ability or role in this. Punk approaches the fountain with clear apprehension, but with one, singular goal in mind. After all, if he's not going to stop Kevin Owens and drive him to the brink of his sanity, who will? After all of his transgressions, apparently siding with the Nazi party circa 1938 just being added to the list, Punk cannot allow him to be rewarded. It's look and leap, and leap Punk does, swilling down the water with ease. He doesn't celebrate, instead, he pauses, waiting to see if he's to meet the same fate as Donovan. ]

GRAIL GUARDIAN: You have chosen wisely. And now, for your reward.

INDIANA PUNK: Hey buddy, I know you've been here for seven hundred years but I'm not about to -

GRAIL GUARDIAN: What? No! Oh God no, of course not. Unless of course, you wanted to ...

INDIANA PUNK: ...

GRAIL GUARDIAN: Well no of course not. Just look at the bottom of the glass!

[ Sure enough, there, in the bottom of Tumbler, there is a dividing line, as if the part of the cup where the liquid is contained doesn't start at the bottom of the glass, but rather, half way up. A secret compartment! Amazingly, that's one of the more believable parts of this adventure. Slowly, Punk pulls it out, when Elsa suddenly jumps through the air, landing on Punk's back, scratching and clawing away! ]

ELSA: NO! ANGLE MUST RECLAIM WHAT IS HIS! GLORY TO Owens! GLORY TO hnggg!

[ GO TO SLEEP! ]

[ Whilst she was intent on climbing over Punk to claim the Grail, Elsa had clearly forgot she was positioning herself straight onto his shoulders - and Punk buries his knee directly in her mouth. If she wasn't a Nazi, it would undoubtedly be in bad taste. Opening and closing his mouth to stretch his jaw, Punk shakes the cobwebs loose as he looks down on Elsa, taking a nice nap on the cold, ancient temple floor. ]

Fin

OOC: sorry for not color ALOT going on this week
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