A/N: So this is officially the first thing I've posted in forever, and the first wrestling-related anything I've posted on here ever. This story is inspired by the Professional Stalker's Club, conceived by Tina and Angel. So, no, I can't lay claim to the genius idea.
I do not own any of the WWE Superstars (not even my stalkees), as much as I might like to. I am also not responsible for any action the PSC members might take, whether or not it is influenced by this story. It's not my fault.
And the title is taken from Ludo's lovely song "Go-Getter Greg." Just so you know. -
Chapter One: The Scarlet Letter
Matt Hardy walked into the post office, eternally grateful that it was empty as it usually was this early in the morning. He always came to get his mail when he was certain not to run into any fans. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate them for supporting him throughout his career--in fact, Matt, as did most WWE Superstars, believed his fans were the greatest in the world. As was demonstrated by the five or so pieces of mail he received from fans every day.
He strolled over to his P.O. Box and entered the combination, effectively opening the door with a click. The envelope on top caught his eye. It was bright red, with his name and address printed neatly in black Sharpie. Instead of a return address, there was a label that read "The Professional Stalker's Club." His eyes widened, and he opted to open the envelope right that moment rather than wait to get home.
How are you doing? We hope, of course, you're doing well. We heard you got a paper cut the other day--
"Oh my God…How do they KNOW?!" he whispered, a little freaked out, before continuing reading.
--so we sent you a Band-Aid.
He opened the envelope a bit wider, and a Band-Aid--black with skulls and crossbones--fell out and onto the floor. He picked it up and couldn't help but feel flattered, even if he was still disturbed. Hey, they'd bothered to send him a hardcore Band-Aid. He couldn't stand the stupid plain brown ones. ECW Champions didn't wear boring, ordinary Band-Aids…at least, this one didn't. He wondered how on earth they had known about his odd obsession with stylish Band-Aids. And then remembered, again, to continue reading.
Don't be alarmed, Matt. We're not going to harm you or anything. We're merely a group of fan(girl)s who want to take care of our favorite Superstars by sending them things…and love. 3
We come to you with a request of utmost importance. We chose you, Matt Hardy, for this important task, because we believe you to be the most able to carry out this mission. (And also because yours is the only address we have) All we ask is that you deliver the letters we send you to the Superstars to whom they belong. We will continue to send mail to them through you until we receive alternate ways to get them their mail. So, really, you don't really have a choice.
Good luck with your next match, and your stalker sends her love.
Use that Band-Aid!
He flipped through his mail and realized that half of the envelopes weren't even for him. So now he, Matt Hardy, ECW Champion, the Sensei of Mattitude, was also a postman? Wonderful…
There you have it--the first chapter in my PSC story. What do you think? And if you've got any ideas, I'd love to hear them! …And, yes, the Band-Aid does exist. I've seen a box of them. They're amazing.