e had finally achieved his dream -- In front of a sold our Wrestlemania crowd, Jeff Hardy was finally able to silence his doubters as he stood atop the world as the victor of the prestigious Money in the Bank. It wasn't long before Hardy was given word that on Smackdown he would be put to the test against the formidable, Bobby Lashley. A man albeit, Hardy wasn't familiar with inside the ring, knew all to well about what he brought to the table. Speaking of table, our scene opens exactly at that -- A table. Food adorned the table, as a golden cup sat at the forefront of the table. Adorned mere inches from said cup, was Jeff Hardy, himself. Hardy takes a small sip from the cup. After this gesture, a soft smile slides across the face of Hardy as he wastes no time in allowing his words to perceive the scene.
JEFF HARDY
Ask and you shall receive. Captured in your vessel, I'm sure you're quite proud of your false, pride, Bobby. Captivated by your own imagination. I don't need to sell myself short to know just what you're willing to do at my expense. I won't waste time, and sit here and deny your abilities. Nor will I hide behind a false sense of security, man. Everybody knows about you, Bobby. We know the chapter of anger that embellishes inside your body. The strength you possess like a golden thread graced by the gods. You, Bobby are a symbol for mass destruction, and I'm merely a string caught in your cross hairs, or so that's probably the notion that you find yourself believin', man. (Hardy shakes his head from side to side.) The truth is, Bobby? I've dealt with people LIKE you my entire life. The bigots of mass always tryin' to bring down those smaller than 'em, and I get it, Bobby. From your standpoint, that's the nature of the world we're given. You're supposed to be this multitude of manliness. There is no chance at the roads of hell, if I paved myself in your direction -- I'd burn at the stakes for merely observing your route. But you might not believe it, Bobby -- But I respect it. I admire the caution to the wind to you throw to the world as a whole.
A soft shrug escapes Hardy as he can't help but glance at the golden briefcase to his side. It was that very briefcase that made all the years of agony worth it. All be bumps, bruises, and sacrifices -- To him, this was his true calling card. The reason he was in this business. A somber nod follows Hardy as he runs his hands over the briefcase, before taking another sip from the golden glass.
JEFF HARDY
It's that very caution to the wind that's made you the superstar you are today, Bobby. That knowledge plays into your prowl. Many might not observe the truth for which it is, but you've got a mind for this business. A mind outmatched by only a select few. A rarity for a man of your stature. After all, brains typically don't align with brute strength, but henceforth you got both, man. It's a nice ploy for the truth -- And as I say, I'll give you the credit you deserve, but realize this, Bobby -- You're smart, but in this world, man? I'm smarter. (Another somber nod escapes Hardy as he shrugs his shoulders.) Call it counterproductive, but I realize I've made my mistakes. I've been down a road plagued by insecurities, and habits I wouldn't wish on the worst of my enemies -- But I've fought through every torturous road, and I've stared those demons directly in the eye, and I've vanquished each and everyone of 'em. And guess what, Bobby? They're a hell of a lot STRONGER, and a hell of a lot BIGGER than you'll ever be, man. (A soft pause escapes Hardy as he looks down at the briefcase. Reflecting over his past. A soft sigh escapes as he resumes.) Those very demons shaped me into the man that I am today, Bobby. I took an oath for myself, and to my daughter that I'd never allow temptation to destroy me. I'd never allow my wrist to be caught in the wires of hate, and agony. It's too tiring to see myself in the mirror as a plague, instead of a man, my daughter can admire. Life by fate is life by torture. Walk a mile in my shoes, Bobby -- You wouldn't last a minute...
A look of anger seemingly crossed the eye of Hardy as his frustration caused him to knock over the food that sat across the table. The mere thought of being looked down upon set him off. This was his livelihood, and he couldn't accept failing once again. Hardy slams his hand onto the table as he lowers his head, covering himself from being seen by the lens of the camera. Only his tattoo adorned arm could be seen, as strands of his hair escaped in the opening of his arms.
JEFF HARDY
You would never understand the risk I've taken to get to this point. The objectification of a thousand screaming fans, daring you to take your final breath for a chance to be something. I've got this entire world in my hands, Bobby. I've got a briefcase that practically guarantees me a shot at immortality, and yet -- I feel more lost than I feel found. I asked for this moment, and I achieved the ultimate goal. I climbed that ladder at Wrestlemania, and a million people around the world gave me their strength. All the misfits, and cast asides embodied inside me for one night, and I took their love, and their admiration, man. It fueled me, because I know exactly what it's like to be chewed up, and spat out. Cast aside for overgrown men such as yourself. It makes me sick, Bobby/ (Hardy would raise his head. This time fixating his entire gaze into the camera.) The thing is, Bobby -- I don't need your approval, man. I don't need to prove myself against you in this match. I already know the truth for which it is. It's no secret this is going to be a test. You're going to bring absolutely everything you can to the table, I get it. But know that your sheer strength will hold not a single shred of value to the strength of a million strong on my back, as they chant my name. This world has an ugly way of showin' beast to their slaughter. I hold no keys to your kingdom, but I hold key to mine, and with it -- I become a World champion. Unfortunately for you, Bobby -- You're set to become nothing more than a footnote for all my creatures as we stands in unison, as the future of this company. Now, and forevermore. (Hardy would stand from the table, pointing directly to the camera. One final nod escapes Hardy as he prepares to end this cameo.) To you, Bobby -- A truth is nothing more than a truth. A lie is the perceived nation of the damned. You, Bobby see yourself in a golden lie, that you actually have at chance at beating me, Friday night. But with false beliefs, and promises, comes an all but shallow conclusion...
Those would be the final words from Hardy as he would return his attention to his briefcase one more. Hardy would run his thumb across the base of the briefcase, before clutching it tightly in his hand, pulling it ever so closely to his chest. His eyes continued to scan across the scene, before redirecting his gaze to the cup he had drank out of prior. A somber sigh escapes, Hardy as a nod slowly follows him. He would set the briefcase aside, just for a moment as he clutched the cup, and freely lifted it to his mouth for one final sip. A soft smile slides across the face of Hardy as he shifts the gaze, pouring it's contents to the floor below. His eyes fixate as a note falls from the cup itself. Hardy would grab the small image, opening it for the entire camera to see. The visage of Bobby Lashley with a giant 'X' was adorned in the picture. A rather disturbing imagery from typical Hardy fashion. Hardy would observe the image once more, before crumbling the image, tossing it to the side as if it were proverbial trash. Hardy would swiftly scoop up his briefcase, before turning his back to the camera, walking out of the scene as a whole. Our scene would now conclude, fading to the illuminated black screen that WWE programming had become known for. In doing so, we're left with one question. Who would prevail this Friday Night on Smackdown? Bobby Lashley, or The Charasmatic Enigma, Jeff Hardy?