He looked down at the ring with a smirk; everyone had called him crazy for being who he was. Nobody understood him, not even his own brother or his girlfriend. He was unique, extreme and creative among other things, but one thing he was not was crazy, oh no, he would show them all that he was not crazy.

Oh Yes! He thought with a maniacal grin. Jeff Hardy would show them all. Sure he was standing only on a aluminium ladder, but falling didn't bother him at all, pain was only a feeling, it would go away. When he was younger he was scared of pain, but now he was older, and knew better, he wasn't scared of pain, he thrived on it, it kept him going. He had gotten over career threatening drug addictions in the past, but now, pain was his addiction, possibly deadlier than some drugs.

Jeff jumped, and flew through the air, onto a table holding a prone CM Punk. Jeff closed his eyes, pretending he was an eagle in midflight, hunting it's defenceless prey, he let out a shrill laugh, as his body crashed into that of Punk's, shattering the table into tiny pieces of wood, thanks to such force. The only sign of life from either man, was a slight shake from Jeff's body, as if he was laughing.

He wasn't feeing the pain, rather excitement, he should be knocked out, but his body was resistant, his numb body couldn't hold on much longer, and it all went black. The crowd was in shock, and the sobs of children were heard, JR was silent, as the referee frantically signalled for EMT's, who came rushing out. This match wouldn't completely ruin Punk's body, It would recover, but emotionally, he would never recover. Jeff would have just knocked out a huge chunk of the life left in his ageing body, he was already emotionally unstable, and if anything, it would knock some saneness back into his mind.

But one thing was for sure, neither men, crowd, commentators, referees, EMT's, workers, staff and anyone who witnessed the event would ever forget Sunday, June 28, The Bash.