A/N: In kayfabe? Yesssss.

"That is not possible."

CM Punk's hands balled into fists. How could they do this to him after all he had done? He and Kofi Kingston had taken the tag team belts off of those priceless brats. He had won Money in the Bank and used it to take the World Heavyweight Championship away from that hoodlum, Edge. Wasn't that enough? Sure, he wasn't the massive steamroller that John Cena was, but maybe that was a good thing. And he did have his fair share of haters, but…

RAW was the A-show.

"Yes, it's very possible and it is happening, whether you like it or not, Punk," Stephanie McMahon reiterated, sending all of Punk's dreams down in smoke.

"I can't go to SmackDown. RAW is my home. God, Steph, I'm homeless! You're the reason that America is going down in shambles!" Punk ranted, punching his open hand with a fist.

The GM of RAW rolled her eyes at Punk's outburst. "And this is exactly why you're going to SmackDown. Times change, Punk. Think of it as…As new competition. More ass to kick, if you catch my drift. Besides, I think Edge has some unfinished business with you."

A growl escaped Punk's throat as he stood up. "Thanks, Stephanie," he grumbled sarcastically as he left the office, slamming the door on the way out.

Stephanie chuckled to herself after the door shut. She picked up the phone and looked at the speed dial list.

1. Vince McMahon's office in Connecticut.
2. Vince McMahon's business phone
3. Teddy Long's office
4. Vickie Guerrero's office

Steph smiled as her French manicured nail pressed down on button number four.

"Hello?" Vickie answered.

"Vickie, it's Stephanie. Punk has just been notified of the switch. He is not happy about it, but he should be able to fit in nicely with the SmackDown Superstars. But then again, maybe not."

Vickie smiled on the other side of the line. For him to not fit in was exactly the plan. "Thank you, Stephan—Ugh, hold on." Vickie held her hand over the receiver. "Chavo? Excuse me! I am on the phone!" Vickie cleared her throat before returning to her conversation with Stephanie. "Ahem, I'm sorry. Chavo and Edge were having an argument. As I was saying, thank you for our acquisition of CM Punk. Were you really that desperate to get rid of him?"

"Something like that…"

"Really, now, ladies, all of your attention is appreciated. I assure you that much. But honestly? My nuts need room to breathe, and I can't really do it when you're all up in my grill like this. Right, Zeke?" The Brian Kendrick said, looking up at his advisor and part time tag team partner.

"Yep," Ezekiel nodded, keeping everything he said short and sweet.

"Yeah, right, Brian," Natalya muttered. "I was just going to ask you where the inspiration for your jacket came from."

"And we thought that Maria had bad taste in wardrobe…" Natalya's friend and SmackDown's newest Diva, Cara, muttered.

"Excuse me, hun? Did you have something to say?" Kendrick asked, to which Cara had no response. "That's what I thought," Kendrick continued. "Oh, and babe? It's The Brian Kendrick to you. None of that Brian crap. I ditched London for a reason. I look better, I wrestle better, I speak better, and I'm just plain better. So how about you treat me like it. Thanks, lady."

Natalya had to hold back laughter as The Brian Kendrick danced, danced, past the two women with Ezekiel in tow.

"Is he the nutcase you told me about?" Cara asked, pulling her blonde hair into a ponytail.

"Define nutcase," Natalya said.

Cara watched as Brian "gracefully" paraded around the hallway. "But you have to admit, he's kind of cute…in a way…a little bit."

"Yeah, if you think that Kurt Cobain is a hottie," Natalya retorted.

"But I do…"

"Look, Vicks, I don't need to be here. And if by bringing me here, you expect to extract some great feat of revenge for your husband, think again. I am not easily fooled likeyou are," Punk growled, his fists pressing onto the top of Vickie's desk as he leaned over and stared into her eyes.

"Are you done now?" Vickie asked, not fazed by Punk's outburst and sudden change of character.

"Not until you're scared."

"Punk, I'm married to Edge. Nothing much scares me anymore," Vickie stated. Vickie scribbled something down on a piece of paper, ripped it out of her notebook, and handed it to Punk. "Here's your match to welcome you to SmackDown. I suggest you go and meet your tag team partner."

"The Brian Kendrick?" Punk asked, looking at the paper. "You're aware that he and I probably won't get along, right? I'm like…a good guy, Vickie. I'm like your antichrist."

"Not since you came here. Stephanie McMahon has told me herself that you've become a bit angry since hearing about your move. Take that anger out on the Colons. It'll do us all some good."

"But it's Kendrick! That kid is like thirteen and comes up to about my knee," Punk complained, holding a hand at knee height to better illustrate to Vickie just why he couldn't tag up with Kendrick. "And he smells! He smells like weed! I'll get high just standing next to him!"

"Oh, that's right…You're 'straightedge' or whatever. Well, at least it'll make for a diverse tag team. Well, what are you still doing here? Go out and find him!"

"Hag," Punk said under his breath as he left the office.

"Excuse me?"