About an hour and a half later, The Undertaker was walking down the halls of the building to the locker room and something was…off.
Everything had seen normal when he left the hotel to head to the arena. He had packed his bag and put his boots, bandana, shades and cap on before he left the room and while walking through the lobby he had gotten some strange looks and..and..snickers. And no he does NOT mean the candy bar. People were snickering at him.
What the hell? He was a seven foot badass. No one, lady or man, ever had the guts to snicker at him. Did he have something on his face? He had not had the chance to check a mirror because he was a little late arriving to the arena.
Now, while walking through the halls to the locker rooms he was getting more of the same: grins, chortling and hands covering mouths in an attempt to hide the grinning and chortling.
That's it, what the fuckis going on.
He arrived at the door to the locker room and roughly shoved it open, not caring about the loud bang as the doorknob collided with the wall. The surprised looks of the other wrestlers just annoyed him more and he glared right back at them. The reaction he received was the last frickin straw. Laughter! Not snickering or light-hearted but loud guffawing howls of laughter!
" Goddamnit! What the fuck is everyone laughing at? I had people laughing at me in the lobby at the hotel and entering the building here. Just what in the name of Christ on rubber crutches is so fucking hilarious!"
He did not receive an answer for about five minutes because no one could breathe but finally Triple H fortunately realized the cold hard truth: if someone didn't tell the Dead Man what was going on, they were all going to miss their matches on account of spending the rest of the night in intensive care.
Triple H, still chuckling but in a much more subdued fashion, approached the Undertaker and gently took him by the arm and led him over to a mirror. Taker started from the ground up. His boots looked great, they were shiny and badass.
Okay, moving on. His jeans were perfect, hugging him nicely and making him look damn good.
Fine, next item. His black Dead Man Inc. shirt hugged him nicely too, showing off his well muscled torso and chest. Getting even more pissed, Undertaker continued.
His shades= shiny and hardcore. Okay, now the cap. As far as he can tell his cap looks absolutely fi-WHAT IS THAT?
Undertaker blinked a few times to make sure he was really seeing what he was seeing. After about a minute of blinking he came to the conclusion that yes, he was seeing what he was seeing. It was not a hallucination. Right there on the front of his cap were the words: UNDIE-TAKER.
The Undertaker could not believe his eyes. He had walked from his hotel room, passed 2 maids, the hotel manager, a few people in the parking lot, rode his bike to the parking lot of the arena and then strolled through the doors of the arena, down the halls to the locker room no doubt passing various backstage crew and fellow wrestlers and finally into the locker room full of even more wrestlers with the words UNDIE-TAKERon his cap.
While Undertaker just stared at his reflection the other wrestlers had quieted down considerably but the occasional chuckle could still be heard.
Clenching his jaw and straightening his shoulders he stiffly turned around and in a deathly quiet tone said, "I am going to ask this once; did someone here do this?"
Each of the wrestlers stopped what they were doing and looked straight at him and shook their heads. He carefully studied the various faces around the room looking for any signs of deception. Luckily for them he did not see any.
Momentarily satisfied, he stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. He just needed a quiet place to think and try to figure out who did this…
Oh that little son of a BITCH! Alright he was done thinking. He knew exactly who did it.
The company's very own rainbow haired highflying enigmatic pain in the ass . This was a prank and there was no one else with the balls to prank him other than that skinny, cocky swanton-bombing little TWERP. Okay, that's it. He was going to find that boy and he was going to find him now. To this day, it is said that Undertaker's voice could be heard through the whole arena calling out one name and one name only, "JEFFREY NERO HARDY!"
Ever head in the arena jerked up when that voice reverberated through the halls but no heads jerked harder than that of two young men in the cafeteria.
They nearly gave themselves whiplash because they knew who it was that was calling to them. The Undertaker himself, the Dead Man. He was coming to find them. But were they leaving?
No.
All eyes were on their table while Matt was holding his head in his hands and Jeff was grinning like the cat that ate the canary. The other wrestlers in the company weren't leaving either. They knew they had nothing to worry about because only one man had a target on his back right now, Jeff. They were going to stick around and watch the show.
They did not have to wait long. The doors to the cafeteria slammed open and in walked you know who.
The seven foot man only took a second to scan the room before his eyes landed on their intended goal: right in the middle of the room at a table by themselves sat his soon to be victim: Jeffrey Nero Hardy.
Clutching the hat in his hand, Undertaker calmly made his way to their table. The other wrestlers' eyes followed him and some noticed the object clenched in his right hand but they could not see what it was.
Finally, the behemoth reached their table. Jeff raised his head and smiled innocently, brazenly holding Undertaker's gaze. Matt's eyes continuously went back and forth between the two. Stepping up right to the end of their table, Undertaker raised his hand and dropped the hat onto the table. Without looking down, Jeff knew what it was the man had dropped. He could not help the snort that escaped from him. Nor could he stop the full belly laugh that followed.
Matt knew in that instant we're dead, Jeff definitely and me probably.
Leaning down in two hands, Undertaker let his weight rest on the table and he spoke, "Jeff, can you say out loud what it says on this cap, so everyone can hear?"
Jeff slightly paled but went to pick up the hat. Clearing his voice he opened his mouth and in a loud, crystal clear tone he said," Undie-Taker."
That did it. The bated breath that had been held for the last five minutes erupted into full-blown peals of laughter that would have done the Joker proud.
The Undertaker closed his eyes and breathed through his nose one…two…three…four…then seemingly regaining his control he stood up straight and turned around to face the rest of the company.
"I'm glad you all find this amusing. Even I can find a little humor in it but know this? Paybacks are a bitch". With one last look at the Hardys Taker made his way out of the cafeteria, not looking a single wrestler in the eye on his way out.