A/N: Mack, I totally understand if you want to e-spear me for this crap.

"See, Mack? I told you I'd look nice in purple and green!" Edge exclaimed as he turned around and gave himself a once over, twice over, and six over in the mirror.

"Yeah, it looks better than those purple camo tights you wear in the ring. I wasn't aware that you were trying to bring Matt Hardy back into style. I don't even know you anymore," MacKenzie replied, shaking her head.

Edge and Mack were on their way to a Halloween costume party. Mack was dressed as Ariel from Little Mermaid since Edge absolutely refused to go with a couples costume as Belle and the Beast, lesser known as Prince Adam. Edge claimed that it would ruin his Rated-R image, and thus shunned his girlfriend's costume idea into oblivion.

Edge, however, didn't have to look long or hard to find the perfect costume to reflect his persona. Being an avid comic book fan, he picked the greatest villain of all time to dress up as. He temporarily dyed his golden mane green, wore bright red lipstick, pale makeup, and dark eye shadow. He donned purple pants, a long, purple jacket that was not unlike his usual trench coats, and a green vest. He was Jack Napier, the Joker.

"You look like a bum," Mack noted, straightening her bright red wig. "Come on, Kaitlyn and Jay are waiting for us at the party."

It was hard for the Rated-R Superstar to tear his eyes away from his reflection. In his own skin, he knew he could do anything.

But now in this disguise, he felt something different.

He felt powerful.

"Adam, Halloween ended two weeks ago," Mack said as her boyfriend entered their hotel room, still wearing his costume, complete with makeup.

"Why so serious, Mack? Can't take a joke?" Edge asked, entering the hotel bathroom and closing the door behind him.

"You better be taking a shower in there! And make sure that damn hair dye of yours doesn't stain the bathtub. I don't want to get billed extra for hotel deformation…again," Mack called out.

But the water never ran.

"I'm not sleeping with you until you look like Adam again," Mack refused, crossing her arms and she laid in the bed. "You're not Gene Simmons, so take off the makeup. You're better looking as Edge."

Adam leaped off the bed, frazzled. "Don't you get it? Don't you get it at all? I can't do it. I can't take it off. I feel better in the costume, babe. I feel new. I feel reborn. I can do things I couldn't do as Edge. I can be even more evil."

"Then just take off the jacket or something."

"Fine," Adam agreed, taking off the long purple trench coat. "Happy?" he asked, crawling into bed and getting under the covers.

"Not in the slightest," Mack said, turning her back to the Canadian wrestler.

And when she woke up in the morning, he was wearing the jacket, hunched over a table trying to formulate the perfect demise of John Cena. It involved a pair of binoculars and a video camera so the entire world could see him.