Edge was driving way too fast to be legal on the freeway. He was on a mission, and that was to plan the demise of the Undertaker.

The Iron Maiden ringtone radiated from his phone that was charging, connected to the lighter jack in his Hummer. Without even looking at the caller ID, he accepted the call and barked, "What?!"

He quickly apologized when the sweet, but scared, voice of Vickie Guerrero answered him. In recent days, he tried to be nicer to his wife. He had put her through a lot of hard times, and he felt that he needed to make it up to her.

He wasn't all bad.

After a hurried conversation, Vickie said something that prompted Edge to yell, "YOU HAVE WHO TIED WHERE?"

After getting his answer, he did an illegal U-turn across the four-lane freeway and sped to Vickie's location.


"Oh, my sweet, sweet Vickiekins! This is the best anniversary present ever!" Edge squealed in delight as he entered the room, hugging and kissing his wife.

"You have no idea what I went through to get it for you," Vickie smiled.

Edge walked to the center of the room. Tied and gagged in a chair was Edge's greatest enemy, The Undertaker.

"This is a very, very rare opportunity," Edge noted, circling around Undertaker like a shark ready to get its prey. "This doesn't come around very often." He bent down and whispered in Undertaker's ear, "I could destroy you right now, you know."

Undertaker fought against his restraints. His eyes glared at Edge and the woman who had imprisoned him.

"But what would that do? No one would believe I did it. People have a problem believing me. I don't know why that is. Do you know, Schnookums?"

"No, I think you're a very honest man," Vickie nodded, taking a seat on the couch, ready to watch what her husband demolish Undertaker.

"I think we need to wait until he's on television. We've both beaten each other many, many times. I think we're destined to do this forever. But do you know what I don't understand?" Edge asked, fighting the urge to sit on Undertaker's lap as if he were Santa Claus.

Undertaker grunted against the gag, his pleas becoming muffled.

"No, Takey, that's not it. I don't understand why you're the good guy in this scenario. Now, I know that I may not be the nicest chap in the world, but at least I'm happy. Whenever I take someone down, it fills me up with joy. I thrive on that." Edge gently patted Undertaker's cheek. "But what about you, hm? You're so…so…Oh, what's the word for it?"

"Grim?" Vickie suggested.

"Babe, you're the greatest!" Edge said, blowing a kiss to his wife. He turned back to Undertaker. "Yes, you're so grim. What's with all the black? I know it goes with your whole death motif you're going for, but that's not exactly something the fans can identify with. At least I dress like a normal person. Granted, I'm way better looking than all of them, but still. I'm happy and you're oh so sad. That's what I don't get! It must be that everyone is as sad as you and they wish they could be as happy as I am. If I'm not mistaken, I'd say that you are supporting the low self esteem of the world, and that's just terrible, ol' Takey."

"Can we just dispose of him and get out of here?" Vickie asked. "I'm cold and hungry."

"Babe! I can't just destroy him here! People need to see his destruction. I will be held in high regard for this! If it's not on SmackDown, then I don't want any part of it." He stood straight up and looked down upon Undertaker. "But, if I find out that anyone else has tried to destroy you, then your destruction will be all the more worse. Come on, Vickie. Let's go."

"But what are we going to do with him?" Vickie wondered, standing up and meeting Edge in the middle of the room.

"We leave him here, of course. Someone will come after him." He put his arm around Vickie and led her out the door. He stopped in the doorway and turned around to face Undertaker one last time. "But then again, maybe not."