Entry Four, FiftyIV's Inferno: CM Punk'ed Part I. NYC, Midtown. March 22, 2009.
Hmmm, work seemed real quiet today. Boss handed me the city paper and told me to read up before my next assignment. He told me to take a break and just relax. He said that I worked too hard, I should get some well-deserved rest.
Translation: Get the hell off Benjamin's case.
Well isn't that dandy huh? The very same people who clean these streets in the name of justice had their hand in bets...the black market, maybe. That's a gold standard for you.
I picked up the paper.
"My Wrestlemania predictions."
Garbage. How blind was the world? I threw the paper in the garbage. We all have eyes, so we can't be blind. I blame the city. They look up at those vivid colors. Television, fashion, the Times Square light pollution, nonsense.
I saw in black and white, the way it's supposed to be. No glitz, no glamour, no flashiness, just the plain stuff. I looked out the window, it was disgusting.
People yelling, smog, littering, spitting, loud traffic, horrible. I need the night, it needs me. Don't worry, I clean these horrendous streets. Boss came in with an economist.
"Meet Mr. Thorpe. He's going to help us around here. With our finances and our mindsets."
When I heard mindsets, I knew boss has something up his sleeve.
"I'm Jev, nice to meet you AkD. We all can bash or praise President Obama, but we've got to get the cash flowing again. Now on to the banks--
"Are you telling me who has the money in the bank?"
"Mr. D, this isn't about the banks. If you could take a look at these papers, we could have an instant classic on our hands."
Him again?! The alleged savior of the ECW brand. I had respect for Thorpe, so I wasn't going to blast him. He gave me his card and gave me a weird look on his face, maybe it was a hint.
"Call me." He left. Boss had some business to tend to, so he said he'll be back later.
The phone rang, I answered. Anonymous guy was on the phone. I still didn't know who in the world he was, but I trusted him.
"I know things, AkD. You and FiftyIV are pretty close. Send him a message for me. Tell him to meet me in the southwest alley tonight, I have a to speak with him."
I agreed and hung up. What was I getting myself into? Boss came in the office and had informed me of a new case. It appeared that someone had used CM Punk's GTS repeatedly to murder someone.
The funny part is that the man wanted to sue Punk for making him nuts. Appearently, he couldn't stay straightedge. What a sick, sick world. I address Ray on the topic. He thought CM Punk got the short end of the stick.
He was working on an Andre case, so he called in Greg Bush, a man who should know a thing or two about RAW. Boss didn't trust me alone in the interrogation room after the Hardy case, so Bush came in with me. Here comes the heat.
Entry Four, FiftyIV's Inferno: CM Punk'ed, Pt I. NYC, Midtown
Bush: I'm going to be straight forward...this is BS. I have a manual on how to run things and Punk couldn't have possibly made you GTS that victim to death.
Suspect: "I hear voices, they told me to do it. CM Punk needs to pay, he did this to me".
This is where I lost my cool. He smiled as if he were going to get away with it.
"VOICES?! Sorry buddy, Orton already claimed that. In fact, thousands of other scum bags used that excuse to get escape. It's been played out. You have been played out! I'll show you a GTS."
Greg grabbed me and told me to relax. Bush knew how to stay cool under these lies. Before Boss could signal, I exited the room.
He told me that I did a stellar job, and I was confused. He then told me to go meet up with Jev Thorpe later tonight as he called for me. Inferno ended..
Back in the office I spoke with Jev, he wanted to give me some "real" information and I agreed to meet him. Oh no, what have I done? Two places one night?! Ray slipped me the newspaper.
It wasn't the brainwashing crap, but the real deal. Within the paper was a nice and tightly sealed "The Revolution will be Published" story. After a great read, I looked out the window.
Night was upon me. Lightning and thunder took over the sky. It was loud, real loud. The only thing louder than the thunderous claps were Ray's yelling. Why didn't boss just give the Hogan case to someone else?
I came out of the dark room with the Punk GTS murderer mugshot. He just wanted to get famous. That sadistic smirk on his face was sad. He wanted to make history like JBL.
GTS Killer, huh?
Punk wasn't going to pay the price, and Greg Bush banked on that. Bank? I had to determine which meeting was more vital, Jev Thorpe's or Anonymous Guy's.
I found Boss snooping around in my office, he really had it out for me. I found him in there and he said he was looking for some printing paper. I gave him a stack.
Going to meet Thorpe?
I nodded though I hadn't made up my mind on who to meet. Boss smiled and called me a cab.
"The best service in the city!" Boss smiled.
I got into the cab during the thunderstorm. I had a gut feeling about tonight, so I made a call to a friend of mine...Dub Sizzle. I told my driver to take me to Soho. He slowly turned his head around.
The cab driver turned around to be none other than the crazed Cerebral.
"Where to, A-K-Done?!"
How did he escape the loony bin? This was going to be quite the night.
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