A/N: Because Edge is the best. And this is in kayfabe.
"You are the best? Really? No, darling, you are the best. No, sir, YOU are the best. I'm the best? No, that's just not possible, because you are the best. No, that's preposterous! No one has such great hair as you do. It's fabulous and shines in the sun like a brand new car. Oh, honey, that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you! But, really, though, your hair is much more fabulous than mine. It's so long, blonde, and wavy..."
Any sane man who would have seen this would have thought that Edge was crazy. He was standing in front of the mirror, having a compliment war with himself. He was arguing about who was better: Edge or Edge.
Sure, he should be confident on the night of his return. Everything had to go according to plan. He had his wife, Vickie, informed of what was happening. Well, not of everything. She had no idea that his apology was bullshit. She had no idea that their marriage was still just nothing but a ruse to him. He damn well meant it when he was on the canvas in the middle of the ring screaming, "UNDAHTAKAH! Strike me with your lightening!" At that point, he did want to go to hell.
But now he was back and revived. He had a new girl who was out on a mission for him.
And when he would be asked if he and Vickie had anything to do with this, he could honestly say that neither of them did it.
Let's swim to the moon...
"Hello?" Edge barked, knowing damn well who was on the other line of the phone. No one, and he meant no one, interrupted his self-appreciation time.
"I'm on my way back," the female voice said.
"So, was the mission successful?" Edge asked, hopeful.
The woman let out a chuckle and hung up the phone.
Edge sighed and smiled to himself. He turned back to the mirror. "Love, you are so amazing. I'd pleasure myself to your photograph. Your beauty should be illegal. Aw, you're so sweet. But even those vulgarities don't compare to what I'd do to you if I had the chance," Edge ranted, continuing his egotistical mirror viewing of himself.
The knock on the door pulled him out of his loving trance.
Edge frowned as his gaze was ripped from his own image reflected back at him in the mirror. He stormed to the door with a disgusted look on his face as he opened the door. "What the hell do you—Oh. Hi."
"Come on in, Kaitlyn," Edge said, opening the door for his true female companion, the one Vickie didn't know about.
The dark red haired woman entered the room, smiling at Edge. "Does she know?"
"Does she ever know? But that's not important. Tell me. How did it go? Is Hardy knocked out?"
Kaitlyn stood up on her tiptoes and lightly kissed the Canadian's lips. She lifted up the lead pipe to show Edge.
"Merry Christmas, baby."