What We Stand For (Edge)

[Ashlee]

The scene opened backstage at The Dome at America’s Center. The offloading area had dim lighting, and the Rated R Superstar, Edge was seated on top of an audio equipment crate. He swung his legs a bit, and looked to the camera.

Edge: You see what’s happening here, don’t you?

Edge shook his head.

Edge: I do.

He looked away for a moment.

Edge: You’re probably wondering why I’m back here. Everyone else has given their neat little speeches while doing their Fanniversary festivities. But I’m back here, like always, doing what I do. I’m very happy to be here at the 20th Anniversary of EBWF. I’m very happy to be involved in this grand celebration. But I’m back here doing what I do, because tonight is just like any other night for me. Another night where I see exactly what is happening here.

He looked back toward the camera.

Edge: I don’t believe Wes Ikeda is actively conspiring against Rated RKO, but I do believe that his underlings are. Wes is a busy man. He can’t know everything. So Wes, if you’re listening, I don’t believe JR supports Rated RKO. I don’t believe that Paul Heyman is able to keep his advocacy responsibilities separate from his corporate responsibilities and therefore he is extremely anti-Rated RKO. You should be listening, Wes. Your people know damn will that Randy is going to beat the Miz. They’re doing this on purpose.

He scoffed.

Edge: Sure, you had to get Edge on the card somehow. It’s a big fucking party isn’t it? Certainly, we aren’t trying to sow the seeds of division by giving Edge a chance at the Gateway Championship. You all know damn good and well what you’re doing by trying to make me the Gateway Champion. Effectively, the number one contender for the EBWF World Championship. You people won’t stop until I have to fight Randy one on one, will you? And you know I can’t back away from a fight. You know I refuse to lose. So fine, this is what you want. Your next step in trying to dismantle the longest reigning tag team champions of all time. Alright. So, who do I have?

He chuckled bitterly.

Edge: A fatal four way. Okay, it’s a party. Got to squeeze in as many folks as you can. Fair enough. So, invited to this party… in the opening match… okay. Insult to injury, but alright… Tommaso Ciampa.

Edge’s audible sigh was amusing.

Edge: I’m not sure how Ciampa got himself an Undertaker schedule, because the guy seems to show up whenever he wants. When he’s here he doesn’t do a whole hell of a lot, and he can’t string together more than a couple of weeks of matches at a time so he has no hope of climbing the mountain. I’m worried about Ciampa becoming the EBWF Gateway Champion about as much as I worry about a meteor hitting my house or being struck by lightening. I don’t think about it. It’s a none worry for me. So, Ciampa, I wish you a safe and healthy match, but I’m very sorry about all the wasted potential. You were supposed to be something, but so much for that, right?

Edge rolled his eyes.

Edge: And then, the third man, the one and only Paul London. So assuming our intrepid space traveler hits the right constellation and shows up at Fanniversary, he’ll have his hand at becoming a champion. Been a long time since you’ve held gold around here, Paul. More often than not it feels like you’re stuck in some kind of Dungeons and Dragons, Cones of Dunshire, The Goblin King is Angry sort of table top RPG that only you know you’re playing. I’m a character in the story you’re crafting, and I have no fucking idea that I’m a participate. What was it you said, Paul? No risk, no reward?

Edge nodded.

Edge: I know something about that. But I also know you have to have your head on straight to make something over yourself. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a novelty act not to be taken seriously. Can you prove me wrong? I’m not sure you can. I’d welcome it though. Really, I would.

Edge cocked an eyebrow.

Edge: And then the Prodigal. Man, the EBWF sure does love you, don’t they Punk? And now you’re here to collect your check, and then clock out again, is that it? You’re not here to stay, so why are you here? Is it an, “I win or I’ll take my ball and go home” situation? Can’t hang in here with the big boys for as long as I have. Can’t carry this whole damn company on your back every single week like I do? No, no. You’d rather show up, crack some jokes, be the guy! Soak up the adulation of the crowd, Punk. I know you’re only here to collect your pay day so you can fund whatever D-List movie you’re producing or go to some more Rancid concerts.

He made a “tsk” sound.

Edge: You need to know, make no mistake, that the only one here to be a nostalgia act, is you. The only one who needs to be made to feel relevant is you. I’m going to have to carry you on my back just to get this match over. Because you can’t just go home, fuck your hot girlfriend, spend your money and go to UFC matches and show up here once a year with a smile on your face thinking you’re going to put on a good match. You of all people should know how this works. Didn’t you once rip off Chris Jericho’s whole deal and call yourself the best in the world?

Another eye roll as Edge leered into the camera.

Edge: I don’t mean to be a Grinch, Punk, but you’re promising these people something you can’t deliver on. It’s not going to be a happy CM Punk Christmas. You’re not coming in here and getting your hands on something that someone who works here every single night deserves. I don’t care if the powers that be are trying to play mind games with me or Randy or whoever. I don’t know what the answer is for a Gateway Champion, but you ain’t it.

Edge was feeling passionate now.

Edge: And maybe you were trying to be cute when you called it the Gateway to the Afterlife title, because we’re all old, yeah real cute. But it’s the Gateway Championship because St. Louis is the Gateway City, and these fans deserved a Championship befitting a city that has loved EBWF since day one, through it all, for twenty God damn years. You want to cheapen that? You want to make fun of that? Be my guest. Just another reason for me to put my boot in your teeth. If you want tag title gold… if you want world championship gold… be a man, come back full time, Rated RKO is right here and we’re waiting for you. But you won’t do that, Punk. You know why? You know how I know? It’s because I know what the CM in CM Punk stands for.

He grinned.

Edge: Con man. Clearly mediocre. Creative mistake. I never let a good opportunity go to waste boys. And I have to say, as much as I don’t want the speculation, rumor and innuendo, four titles on your boys in Rated RKO sounds pretty damn good. I’ll see you out there.

Edge stood up and began to walk away, but a voice behind the camera called out to him.

Drew the Cameraman: You’re not even going to mention that this is a ladder match?

Edge turned slowly, and looked into the camera.

Edge: This is a… ladder match?

The camera moved up and down as the cameraman nodded in the affirmative. Edge grinned again and chuckled.

Edge: Oh, you guys are so fucked!

Edge could be heard laughing as he walked off down the hallway and the scene faded to black.