EDGE'S POST-IT NOTE MYSTERY
Plot and Writing by Scarlett, Post-It Messages and Additional Ideas by Veronica
Uggghhh…Monday morning, the day after Vengeance. Without even opening his eyes, he knew it, conscious of the dull ache in his shoulders and the slight pounding of his head. He was keenly aware, also, of the soft, warm, delicate body sleeping on the right side of his chest. He buried his face into the thick mass of her chestnut and black hair, inhaled deeply, and opened his eyes. Adam "Edge" Copeland awoke in an average-sized hotel room in Philadelphia with a king sized bed and all the usual amenities.
What time was it? He turned his head to the left and attempted to focus his green eyes on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. Had Jericho screwed up his eyesight with that stupid dropkick? Why couldn't he read the damn clock? Adam reached over with his free left hand and pulled off a small orange square of paper that had been covering the time. A sticky note? What? Even with the low light he could read the message written in black Sharpie:
YOU SUCK EDGE!
Who the hell would write that? He looked over at the pliant body of his still slumbering girlfriend, WWE Smackdown Diva Scarlett "Avarice" Harris. There was no way she would write that: One, she had much better handwriting than this, two, this was not exactly her style of humor, and three, she had been with him the whole night and he definitely would have noticed.
A strong urge to piss replaced this train of thought and he gently worked his way out from underneath his girl and headed to the bathroom. He avoided tripping on the clothes scattered around the floor and reached to flip on the bathroom light. His hand encountered another piece of paper on the light switch. Yes, it was orange and had bold black writing, but this time it said:
THE ANIMAL WILL BE UNLEASHED ON YOU EDGE. I HATE YOU!
What? I am so confused right now! So now either Dave Bautista really hates me and has a weird way of showing it, or someone is attempting to screw with me. Fuck them, I've got to piss. It's too early in the morning to even care. Ok, so it was already 11:00, but that's early when you were wrestling in a ladder match against the former Undisputed Champion the night before.
Running his hand through his blonde bedhead he walked over to the toilet. He grabbed the toilet seat, lifted it up, and went about his business. Of course, he couldn't even be left in peace to do that simple task. Looking down he saw that on the top of the tank was his third lovely message of the morning:
EDGE SUCK IT!
Alright, that's it! This was obviously Paul, better known as HHH, and his BFF Dave. Just because you're married to the boss's daughter doesn't mean you get to get into every superstar's hotel room and screw with their stuff! He was the only one who could have gotten into his room while they weren't there. Get over it dude, you're not in D-X anymore, stop taking it out on everyone else!
But Adam became more concerned with getting rid of his morning breath than whether or not the former Evolution members had attempted to taunt him with "clever" little notes. He dug through his travel bag on the counter and found his toothpaste and, what do you know?, someone had been nice enough to leave yet another note:
YOU'LL TRIP & PARISH BEFORE YOU EVER GET THE CHAMPIONSHIP EDGE.
Parish? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Oh, "perish" not a parish! Despite the ridiculous spelling error, this message was obviously meant to intimidate him a little more. This didn't strike him as something Paul or Dave would write. He doubted that Mark would bother wasting his time writing sticky notes, but Undertaker was the World Heavyweight Champion and this was something his character would say. Adam was scheduled to get back into the main title hunt in the next couple of months, but this was kind of stupid.
Maybe a hot shower would help his sore shoulders and get his mind off of whoever this idiot was that was trying to bug him this morning. If he took a shower now it had the added bonus that he would actually get some hot water, which was never the case if he waited for Scarlett to shower first. He let his mind wander a little at the thought of waking her up so he didn't have to shower alone, but decided it was more important for him to use the shower to relax his aching muscles. He pushed aside the glass door of the shower and went to turn on the faucet. Of course his tormentor couldn't even leave him alone to enjoy a quiet shower:
EDGE WILL TRIP ON SPIKES AND BLEED TO DEATH AND I WILL LAUGH. HA, HA, HA!
What the fuck? That was pretty messed up. The only person he could think of that would think this was even slightly funny was Glen. Playing the part of Kane for so long had really gone to his head and he often would laugh eerily and smile that creepy smirk even after the cameras were turned off.
This morning just kept getting weirder and weirder. Who would be in his room when Scarlett and he hadn't been in there? Why were they threatening him? And why in the hell would they think that Post-it notes were a good way to go about it?
He groaned as the pressure of the warm water hit his body, and it immediately made him feel relaxed and refreshed. He tilted his head back, drenching his trademark rockstar hair. Oh no, not my shampoo! That's not cool; do you know how important my hair is? My hair is a vital part of my career, not to mention my relationship! If they fucked with my shampoo they are going to pay! The affixed note read:
I HOPE U FALL OUT OF A PLANE! EDGE SUCK IT!
That was pretty much the stupidest threat he had ever received. Who falls out of planes on accident these days? Well, well, well, who would think this was actually a good idea? This sounded more like something Shawn or Michael or Shawn, whatever he wanted to call himself today, would actually say, especially with the oh-so-original "suck it!" at the end. But how did this fit in with the rest of the notes? Whoever it was had really disturbed his morning so far, and now he was determined to figure out who would want to piss off Adam Copeland.
He shut off the water, unable to enjoy his shower with the continued assault by the orange taunter. He cracked open the door of the shower, trying to avoid letting the warm steam escape. As he pulled the white oversized towel into the shower his eyes caught sight of the last thing he wanted to see right now: a glaringly orange sticky note. Four stuck together in a pile, actually.
THE BLONDE REFEREE WILL DIE AND I WILL TAKE HIS PLACE AND STEAL KANE AWAY
FROM SMACKDOWN. YOU SUCK EDGE! MICHAEL COLE DOESN'T LIKE
BOOBIES
YOU WILL NEVER BEAT ME IN A TAUNT WAR, ESPECIALLY MY STABLE YOU OLD LADY ASS EDGE
Was he even reading this right? Maybe it was the steam; it had disoriented him, because this message made no sense no matter how many times he read it. Cena was the only person who would write such idiotic things all at once. His promos only made sense half the time and he used the lyrics "swiss, cheddar, provolone" in a rap song. That kid was stupid enough to use insults like old lady ass, and he was the one who originally said "Michael Cole doesn't like boobies." Come to think of it, Cena would think this whole thing was hilarious, and he never hesitated to bother the shit out of him.
"Cena!" he growled through gritted teeth, and ran his free hand through his wet hair. He quickly dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. He almost slammed the bathroom door behind him, but remembered his sleeping girlfriend at the last minute. He would be in big trouble if he woke her up before she was ready. He glanced over at Scarlett, who had rolled over to her right side, curled up in a ball, and pulled the covers all the way up to her chin. He was safe. He continued his walk over to his suitcase and, as he went to open it, was greeted by a welcome sight: Orange note #8.
KANE WILL MURDER U IN YOUR SLEEP OR UNLESS I GET THERE FIRST EDGE.
Rather menacing, eh? Maybe he would be scared if it wasn't written on a sticky note. If they could get into his room and they wanted to kill him so bad, why didn't they just wait around and jump him instead of being a pussy and leaving a note. It might as well have said "I went out to get milk and eggs. I'll be back to cook you dinner at 4."
Oddly enough, his suitcase was unzipped. He hadn't even opened it last night, he was sure. He shrugged, dropped his towel, and found the neatly folded pile of boxer briefs. Obviously, he wasn't the one who packed his suitcase. OKAY, this was getting really personal…there had to be a stack of notes on his overprivates. That was hitting a little too close to one of his favorite parts of his anatomy. Only one person would even dare: ORTON. Maybe teamed up with his little buddy Cena; those two had been hanging out a little too much lately. Let's see what the Legend Killer had to say:
WHEN YOU GO TO SLEEP AT NIGHT I WILL STAND OVER
YOU WITH GOLD, SO I WILL NEVER LET YOU HAVE
GOLD WHEN I'M CHAIRMAN OF THE WWE
I HATE CHU EDGE
YOU WILL DIE IN MASKED KANE'S HANDS
AND ALL OF US WILL BE AS HAPPY AS CAN BE WITH
YOU OUT OF THE PICTURE SO I CAN RULE OVER THE
WWE. I WILL BE ON EVERY POSTER MAGAZINE EVERY STICKY
NOTE. ALL THE THREATENING STICKY NOTES WILL BE IN AND ON
YOUR GRAVE. SUCK IT EDGE! I WILL HAVE
ALL THE GOLD THAT YOU'LL NEVER GET TO HAVE.
THE END…SO FAR.
The kid had lost it. Adam couldn't believe he had actually been tag team partners with this demented loser. He actually thought he would be Chairman someday? Idiot. Why would Orton and Cena write about Dave, the blonde referee, and Kane? He threw on the top pair of boxers, slammed the suitcase shut, and stormed over to the mini fridge. He needed a drink, badly.
In his anger he had unknowingly woken up Scarlett. She flipped over, let out a sigh, and peeked out from underneath the covers at Adam's broad back. His muttering and need to get a drink this early in the morning couldn't be good signs. She watched in curiosity, trying to figure out what had him so riled up.
He bent down and put his hand around an ice cold Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. It had become his favorite beer after Scarlett had made him try one. "No fucking way!" This stalker with a Sharpie had predicted his every move. It was starting to scare him a little. He couldn't believe it, but clinging to the frosty side of the bottle was another stack of Post-it notes.
WHEN YOU GET DRUNK ONE LONELY NIGHT ALONE SOMEONE WILL COME
INTO YOUR ROOM AND PLASTIC WRAP YOU TO YOUR
BED AND ALSO TAUNT YOU WITH THE WWE CHAMPIONSHIP TO SHOW YOU WHO'S
THE BEST IN THE BIZ. THEN YOU WILL BE TAKEN TO A LAKE &
THROWN OVERBOARD WHERE YOU BELONG, WITH THE FISHES.
THEN WHEN YOU WAKE UP THE NEXT MORNING IT WILL BE A HORRIBLE
NIGHTMARE, WHEN YOU GET UP YOU'LL LOOK IN THE MIRROR YOU'LL
HAVE OPEN WOUNDS ON YOUR FACE AND HAIR EVERYWHERE.
YOU WILL FIND A STICKY NOTE ON YOUR FOREHEAD WHICH
SAYS THAT
I HOPE YOUR FACE BURNS & SHRIVELS UP LIKE AN OLD LADY'S ASS EDGE.
JERICHO! Why hadn't he thought of Jericho before? He had a strange sense of humor, had always been his rival, and, because he was Canadian too, would know that he would need a beer after receiving that last note. Didn't he know that his little story would never come true? Obviously he would never have a lonely night, he was the Rated R Superstar, and Chris Irvine/Jericho would never even have the chance to attempt this insane plot. He always knew Chris had to be kinky like that, wanting to cover another man with plastic wrap in his bed. Remind him never to share a room with that guy again…
Scarlett watched, wondering what on earth could stop Adam from opening a fresh cold beer. "Baby?..." she started, but then caught a glimpse of something small and orange in his hand and immediately she knew something weird had been going on and didn't dare finish her question. She sat up and looked around the room. Small fluorescent orange squares of paper were littered all over the floor. Orange? That's not a good sign…
He crumpled the obnoxious note into a ball, threw it on the floor and wrenched the top off of his beer. He took a deep swig and strutted over to the bed. He noticed that Scarlett was finally awake. He sat down on the edge of the bed and gave her a good morning kiss, all the while reaching for the remote on the table. She stole a swig from his Sierra Nevada, but he oddly didn't say anything, he was too wrapped up in his thoughts of this morning and retaliation against Jericho to care.
Scarlett was still worried about whatever those notes said, but she hoped that a beer and some TV would do the trick. She wanted to see what time it was but couldn't see around his 240 lbs. frame. Instead, she turned to her right and reached for her cell phone on the other night stand. What do you know?, the mystery taunter had left a little orange novel for her too.
Before she could begin reading, she heard a frustrated "DAMN IT!" from her boyfriend. She looked up at him and saw the remote control in one hand and an identical orange set of sticky notes in the other. They both began to read, and their faces unknowingly became identical expressions of anger and disbelief: furrowed brows, pursed lips, and fingers running through tousled hair. The stack of notes in her slender hands read:
WHEN EDGE COMES OUT WITH YOU AT HIS SIDE YOU'LL SEE ME IN
THE CROWD WITH ALL OF MY STABLE COMING TO KIDNAP EDGE
THREATEN HIM WITH STICKY NOTES, TORTURE HIM IF NEEDED
TOO, THEN GIVE HIM BACK TO YOU. I WILL THEN STEAL
THE CHAMPIONSHIP FROM HIM, AND ALL OF US WILL TAUNT IN
YOUR FACES, BECAUSE YOU DESERVE IT, EDGE WILL TRIP
DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS, AND FALL OUT OF A PLANE. I WILL BECOME GM OF
SMACKDOWN SO I CAN SAY
YOU'RE FIRED!
ALL FIVE OF US WILL SAY IT AND I WILL TAKE OVER
THE BLONDE REFEREE'S JOB SO IF EDGE COMES BACK I'LL STALK HIM
AND PLOT PLANS OF EVIL DESTRUCTION.
Simultaneously, Adam read his note from the maniac with a marker:
AFTER YOU GET THE RKO, JOHN WILL GIVE
YOU THE FIVE KNUCKLE SHUFFLE WHILE YOU'RE ON
THE GROUND. IT WILL TURN INTO AN ALL OUT
BRAWL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAY AT THE HOTEL
YOU WILL GET CHOKESLAMMED BY A MASKED
MADMAN WHO WILL STICK A STICKY NOTE ON YOUR
FOREHEAD SO YOU WILL GET THE MESSAGE TO STAY OUT OF THE
WAY BECAUSE
I STAND ALONE!
Comprehension dawned on the couple's faces and the mystery was solved, knowing now that there was only one possible culprit:
"VERONICA!" they shouted in unison.
Both quickly jumped up and began throwing on whatever clothes they could reach while Adam explained the rest of the morning in rapid, angry speech. Scarlett had the foresight to grab their room key, and Adam threw open their hotel room door. He grabbed Scarlett's hand and they charged off in the direction of Raw Diva Veronica "Felix" Harris's room. Yes, she was Scarlett's sister, but she was also well known for her hatred of all things Edge.
As they rounded the corner of the hallway, they suddenly heard the opening strains of "I Stand Alone" by Godsmack blaring from Room 1111. Felix's theme song, Veronica's hotel room. They neared the door and heard the laughter of several large males and one very strange female. That's it; they weren't going to be the butt of anymore of their jokes!
Adam began banging his huge fist loudly on the door, booming "Let me in! I've had enough of this Veronica!"
This, of course, was met with even louder laughter from inside. Adam lifted his arm to begin again, but the door was opened mid-knock and he nearly fell into the room. Looking up innocently at them was the 5'5" ginger-haired Diva, Felix. "Yeeeeesssss??" she asked.
Scarlett stepped between Adam and Veronica in order to avoid an all out bloodbath, and Adam's arm wrapped around her waist to keep her anger in check as well. They looked over Ronni's shoulder at her eight accomplices: Dave Bautista, Paul Levesque, Mark Calloway, Glen Jacobs, Michael (Shawn) Hickenbottom, John Cena, Randy Orton and Chris Irvine. "You think you're so funny, don't you Dolly Girl?" Scarlett asked, her voice dripping with venom.
Felix merely smirked and gestured to her "stable" behind her, replying "They think so." Laughter ensued and Shawn Michaels fell off the bed, landing in Randy Orton's lap.
Adam gripped his girlfriend even tighter, and she knew he was getting pretty pissed. "What the hell is your problem? Does it make you feel better about yourself to torment me all the time? This is bullshit Veronica. Cut it out." Adam fired at her.
"But it's so much fun! I can't help that I hate you Edge." Veronica barely answered between giggles.
"He's not Edge, Ronni, he's Adam and you know it." They had had this discussion too many times. Veronica didn't like him, she didn't like that Scarlett was with him, and her and her friends found it really entertaining to constantly harass the both of them. "I've had enough, I can't take it! Leave us alone."
"Edge, Adam, same thing Scar." Adam attempted to interject, but Veronica cut him off and continued, "Didn't you guys have fun this morning?" By their faces, it was very obvious that wasn't the case. "We thought you'd enjoy our stories. We thought they were really funny…" She would have gone on, but was consumed in another fit of laughter.
"Come on, sticky notes? Honestly? I thought you'd grow up eventually Veronica and get that you have to deal with me because I'm with your sister."
Felix interrupted with "Fat chance of that…"
"Fine, whatever…" Scarlett finished his sentence with "but this isn't cool, I can take the jokes if I have to, but you screwed with our stuff. Wait, how did you even get into our room??"
Veronica smirked, hoping they would ask that very question. "I have my ways…"