Eat, Sleep, Love, Repeat-a Brock Lesnar love story

Chapter Fourteen- Trouble With The Beast

We watch RAW until it’s time for the Brock Lesnar/John Cena Contract signing segment. We see John Laurenitis and Brock enter the ring (that has been set up for a contract signing) Laurenitis talks, and then hands the microphone over to Brock. Brock stands up

Brock:
Come on out little Johnny. (waits—we don’t come out just yet)

Brock gets a “you’re not coming out? Oh, okay” look on his face and looks at Laurenitis.

Brock:
So, you fly me all the way to Detroit, for a contract signing, and this guy is too scared to show up?

Laurenitis puts his arms out, unsure what to do.

Brock:
That’s fine. That’s fine by me. Obviously, John Cena’s too scared to come out here, right? Right? That’s fine, because…to give you a little explanation of why I was absent or tardy getting on here today is because we’ve got a little business we need to discuss…..since John doesn’t have the balls to show up. Why don’t you have a seat…please.

John Laurenitis hesitates.

Brock:
(more forcefully)
Sit down, please!

John Laurenitis reluctantly sits. Brock sits in the other chair.

Brock:
There is supposed to be a match next Sunday. But since I’ve been back, I’m not very happy of how things have turned out. If I’m going to be the face of this company, then I’m gonna need some changes; starting with number one….you think you make all the rules,  and you’re the boss around here…but I disagree. From now on: any thought that goes through your mind, about me or anything else around here, you’re gonna have to run by me.

John Laurenitis sits there uncomfortably.

Brock:
Since all major decisions go through me, then I’m requesting that when I come to WWE RAW, that I get Vince McMahon’s private jet. To and From the venue. That’s right. You see, John: what makes me happy, is beating people up. So when I got here tonight, and the so-called interview, I got the chance to beat somebody up already. There’s one thing I don’t like John, and that’s people. I don’t like people, John. Especially, stupid people. Another thing: I’ll show up on Monday Night RAW, when I want, and how I want. You see, I’m not gonna be your little puppet on a string, like these other guys in the back. That’s not me, and that ain’t gonna happen. Another thing: you walk around here, fining people, fining a guy like Seamus a half a million dollars for pushing a referee around, (he shakes his head) you won’t be fining me. In fact, you’re going to be paying me more money. LISTEN TO ME, until these demands are made, there is no match at Extreme Rules.

He leans back on his chair, and puts his feet on the table (“God, his on-screen persona is SO fucking arrogant and annoying.” I think to myself)

Brock:
IF, in fact, here’s another thing: on the very last line (Laurenitis looks down) section 3, exhibit A, if I am the face of Monday night….I think that, a new name has to be made.

Laurenitis shakes his head, confused.

Brock:
It’s no longer gonna be, just Monday Night RAW….it’s now gonna be Monday Night Raw STARRING Brock Lesnar. (he sits back and watches Laurenitis uncomfortably stir in his chair.) Make me happy, Mr. Laurenitis. If you make me happy, I’ll make you happy by signing this contract for Summerslam.

It takes him a few seconds, but Laurenitis nods. (John nudges me, signaling that it’s time for us to go to the curtain. He takes my hand and we walk to the curtain and wait for our cue)

Brock:
You agree? You agree to that? (Laurenitis extends his hand. Brock shakes it, then pulls Laurenitis close to him) Tell everybody that you agree to that! (puts the microphone up to Laurenitis’ mouth)

John Laurenitis:
I agree to those terms.

Brock:
Thank you very much. Now, since I got what I wanted, I’ll give you what you wanted (he sits down) your photo op. (he signs the contract and slams the leather folder shut—handing it to Laurenitis.)

The techies hit John’s music. We walk out and slowly walk to the ring. He steps on the ropes for me, and I get in. He grabs my upper arm.

John:
If anything goes south, get yourself out of this ring, okay?

Me:
Okay.

John:
Stay in the corner.

I back up to the corner. John looks at Brock, then the contract, then back at Brock. Brock motions for him to sign it; then, stands up. John pulls the leather envelope towards him, grabs the pen, glares at Brock, and then begins to turn the page. He stares out into the crowd, who then start chanting his last name. Brock grabs the microphone….

Brock:
What’s the matter, John? Sign….the….con..tract.

John looks at the contract and then puts it down.

Brock:
You see, John, here’s the problem: you stand there, and I feel this vibration coming from you. And I’m liking what I’m feelin’. Just like I’m likin’ that hot little piece of ass behind you in the corner. (pointing to me….that makes John grab me and push me behind him) You. Are. Scared. I am the reason you lost last week, I’m the reason you’re feeling the way you’re feeling right now, John. The big, bad, Boogeyman Brock Lesnar has been in your mind: racing, runnin’ around, SCARED, John Cena, you’re SCARED!

That get’s John pissed off enough to turn the page and sign his name. As he’s signing it, Brock Lesnar yells “SIGN IT! SIGN THE DAMN CONTRACT!” Once John signs it, he throws the contract at Brock, which causes Brock to draw his arm back. John pushes me back; trying to keep me out of harm’s way. Brock pushes the table down, and starts to smile and laugh, moving around the table and closer to me. I back up to the corner of the ring. Brock walks right up to me, smirks, and gets in my face.

Brock:
(he grabs my throat and gets real close to my face)
You’re boyfriend is a coward, and pretty soon, you’ll realize I’m right.

The crowd “oooooooo’s”. Then, Brock hops out of the ring. John pulls me into him. I grab his shirt and hold myself close to him. He pushes the hair out of my face.

John:
Are you okay?

Me:
Yeah.

We wait until the show goes to commercial, and then walk back to our dressing room. On the way there, Roman Reins passes us. He pats me on the back,

Roman:
(to me)
You’re doing awesome on your first day!

Me:
Thanks, Roman!

Roman:
No problem. You know, if John’s not around and you need someone to hang with, you’re welcome to hang around The Shield. And we’ll protect you.

Me:
I’ll have to take you up on that offer, Mr. Reigns.

Roman:
I’m gonna holdja to that, little HBK.

Me:
See ya later!

Roman:
Bye!