Disclaimer: I do NOT own the following wrestlers, or any of the events that actually happened on camera, or anything else mentioned that is recognizable.
I respect the actual beliefs and sexualities of the following wrestlers.
Kayfabe's pretty real here. Jeff's the world Heavyweight champion, and Punk has tried to attack him a number of times to 'rid the WWE of him' (like in the storyline). He claims it's because he's a bad role model, but really, he's jealous that Jeff has more popularity and he was treated like a bad guy after Extreme Rules. Phil Brooks is a pretty good guy, but jealousy on Jeff Hardy has twisted a lot of his intentions into something ugly. He wants to get rid of Jeff and finally 'shine like he's meant to'... but Matt's kept him from dealing that career ending blow many times. In fact, now Punk hates Matt as much, if not more, than he hates Jeff. He ends up venting to Adam, who he thinks is drunk, and makes a horrible mistake. Now he and Matt both have to pay the price for his hatred...
Warnings: Punk's thoughts are really messed up. I felt like hitting him the whole time I was typing. So here it is: there is a major amount of Hardy bashing in this chapter, courtesy of Punk's thoughts. Really horrible stuff too. He takes on the preachy tone known as the 'I'm Straightedge and thus better than you' tone. So... you've been warned.
This is part one.
Phil Brooks kicked his car, thinking about the fucking bastard. Everytime he was sure he had Jeff right where he wanted him, everytime he thought he was closer to getting the kid out of his life and getting his title back, his stupid brother would interfere. He wouldn't get his title back... not with Matt in the way.
He never understood the Jeff fascination. There was nothing heroic about him. He was a mediocre wrestler and a more mediocre person; he gave into temptation and vices so easily. Yet the kids crowed for him, people cheered for him, no matter what.
When Matt told him he didn't have to feel guilty about using Money in the Bank on Jeff, secretly, he was glad. He thought Matt would chase him out so that Punk could shine. He should've shined; he used the briefcase the way it was meant to be used. But no, no matter what, everyone always sided with Jeff.
It was his mission to see the little brat gone. And, if Matt wasn't around, he would be able to do it. He grinned, thinking about it... if only Matt wasn't around. A Hardy free WWE would be a better WWE.
He drove to the bar alone; he always came alone. But he came back with at least four passengers, all drunk out of their minds. It was sad, how easily everyone just let their inhibitions loose, when they were supposed to be role models. When there were millions kids watching their every move, wearing their merchandise, shouting out their names... they should watch their every move.
He entered the bar and his eyes immediately fell on Matt and Meth... oops, he meant Jeff Hardy. They were the center of attention, a bunch of people harping over them, sycophants wanting to catch the light off of their heroes. He stared at Matt, who had an arm around his brother.
He was supposed to get rid of him. Now he's the reason he's still here.
Phil went to the bar, eyes never leaving Matt. Angry as could be, he asked for a Pepsi. Matt ruined everything. Phil's dreams of holding the gold again were gone... of being seen as the hero he was were gone... all because of Matt fucking Hardy.
"Bet you wish you had laser vision." Phil turned around and saw Adam Copeland sitting next to him. Adam was still healing from the surgery, but he was in talks for being a special guest host at RAW, which was probably why he was here.
"What?" Phil snapped, as his Pepsi arrived.
"Laser vision. So you could blow Jeff Hardy's head off." He laughed. "Or is it Matt? I can't really tell."
Another fucking drunk. Was it really too much to ask that they stay fucking sober? But Phil wanted to vent, and Adam offered the opportunity. "The high flying Meth Hardy I could handle fine," Phil said, "It's the stupid brother that keeps getting in my way. What happened to their fucking feud? I thought Matt hated him!"
Adam laughed. "They take out their sibling rivalry shit on each other and then go back to being buddies. You don't know them; I do. They'll fight like beasts and then buy each other beers afterwards."
"Savages," Phil spat. Although he really had no problem with either Hardy until Extreme Rules, and his only real problem with Matt was that he was keeping Phil from seriously injuring Jeff, he truly believed what he was saying. Phil was a man who said what he believed, no matter what.
"I'll toast to that." Adam and Phil toasted, and then they drank their drinks. As soon as they were gone, Adam said, "You must really hate Matt, to be staring at him like that."
"Matt means shit to me." But Phil kept staring at them anyway, looking back, wondering where Matt got off. Making everyone hate him and then just worming his way back into their good graces. Fucking hypocrite.
Adam turned Phil's head to look at him. "Liar."
"Alright, you caught me. Sometimes I wish that fucking bastard would just go away. But it'd be really satisfying to make him see that I'm right, that his brother's a fucking waste of time, and for him to betray him again... so I could get rid of Jeff Hardy for good."
"You really want Matt to go?" Adam asked, "You really want to make him pay for messing with your vendetta against Jeff?"
Phil nodded. "I want him on his knees, exalting me as the fucking savior I am, thanking me for getting rid of that cancer he calls a brother..."
"I could do that for you." Phil stared at Adam, but then he began laughing. He laughed for a long time, before finally speaking.
"You could make the PROUD Matthew Moore Hardy get on his knees, call me his savior, and thank me for kicking his brother out of the WWE?" Phil said, giggling. That's why he didn't drink; it made people complete retards. Matt never admitted he was wrong; well, except with Jeff. But Jeff made everyone trip over their feet to appease him.
Adam grinned wickedly. "Of course I can. With your permission, of course."
Phil laughed again. "That's a mighty big favor, bud." It would be nice if he could, though. For some reason, after he said it, the image of Matt on his knees in front of him flooded his mind. And... he liked it. The idea of Matt, kneeling down, hands clasped, head bowed... he fucking liked it.
"Oh, it wouldn't be a favor. It would be... a trade."
"And what would you want in exchange?" Phil asked.
"Nothing much. Just your soul." This is where Phil laughed again. Now he knew Copeland was beyond shitfaced. There were no such things as souls, and even if they were real, they weren't things you could trade.
"My soul. Hmm... Might as well pay you with sand, buddy," Phil said, patting Adam's shoulder.
"Keep the sand. I want your soul."
"Alright, so let's say I make this deal," Phil said, playing along, "So... how will you make Matt do all those things? How will you make him leave Jeff alone?"
Adam's wicked grin grew. "Oh, don't worry about that. I have... ways." He held out his hand. "Do we have a deal?"
"What are ways?" Phil asked.
Adam shook his head. "I don't give away all my secrets, Punk. So... do we have a deal?"
"Deal," Phil said sarcastically. He was about to shake his hand, but Adam pulled it away.
"I must warn you. If you shake my hand... this deal is final. You have to be sure this is what you want before you shake. There's no backing out, no changing your mind. I'll take care of Matt, you'll get rid of Jeff, and then you'll have Matt right where you want him. And then your soul is mine. Do we understand?"
He probably wouldn't even remember the bullshit in the morning. "We understand." Phil shook Adam's hand, and said, "So, what are you going to do to Matt?"
"Whatever I see fit," Adam said.
Phil nodded, even though something about the way he said it took the edge off of him. There was something dark about the whole thing... he didn't like it. He looked back and Matt and was almost afraid for the guy... but then reminded himself that the little shit deserved whatever he got. Besides... it wasn't like Adam was actually was going to do anything to him.
Getting publicly drunk, sticking up for his total failure of a brother... Matt deserved any imaginary shit Adam was thinking of.
"Well, it was nice talking to you," Punk said, "See you around, Adam." Adam laughed, and Phil looked at him, confused. "What?" he asked.
"Don't call me Adam. Adam's not here right now. It's Azazel."
Drunk ass idiot. Phil laughed and began looking around for the intoxicateds. It was time for the real role model, the real icon to step in and do what he did best... take them home.
Azazel watched him with an amused smirk. He warned Phil, didn't he? But no, he didn't listen. He was so sucked up in his inflated sense of self importance that he didn't realize that Azazel was completely sober. Alcohol didn't effect him.
Azazel was pretty comfortable in Adam's body. Adam had a mean streak all his own, but it was all an act. Adam was a really just a pushover, a real sweetheart. Which meant he was weak enough for Azazel to control, to gain the souls of men and women who had dreams but didn't have the power to make them come true.
He got so many souls in the past from the WWE... all wanting glory one way or another. Mr. Kennedy, Umaga, Brian Kendrick, Candice Michelle... all the recent 'releases' were his souls now. Most of them didn't think beyond their great match; no one asked to bask in the glory. They just wanted to obtain their goals. And once Azazel held up his end of the deal... it was time for them to hold up their's.
He looked over at Matt and grinned. "I'm coming back for you, little Hardy," Azazel grinned. He'd been waiting for a chance to get back at Matt for nine years. The only person to have cheated the devil of his due. And now, that idiot Phil Brooks granted him the perfect opportunity.
Azazel grabbed his refilled glass and began drinking it. Between sips, he sang: "The devil, take me now/ Before I'm ushered out/ 'Cause you are like me/ But I can bleed/ And I can die/ But I can't hide/ From you."
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