Post by Sheamus on Aug 9, 2010 8:32:27 GMT -5
The Celtic Warrior's heart pounded in anticiation. His skin was flushed, and perspiration dotted the pale skin on his forehead. He sat in a small room, awaiting the results of the medical tests he had undergone today. He hoped for the best, but expected the worst. Minutes seemed like hours to the man, and finally the doctor entered the room. The man was an older gentleman, looking to be around his mid fifties. He was of a medium height, though age had nicely rounded out his ample gut. He had white hair on the sides of his balding head, the top completely bare of anything but wrinkles and freckles.
Ah, Mr. O'Shaunessy, I have the results of your test right in here.[/i]
Sheamus remains silent, but merely nods as the doctor taps on the folder. He takes a seat opposite of Sheamus, and opens up the folder, reading things over while crossing a leg over the other to rest comfortably. The doctor frowns a bit, and lowers his glasses a bit so he may look down through the spectacles. Sheamus watches on curiously, and notices the facial expression. He had a bad feeling about this.
Now, last time you came in, I told you that you may wrestle under the circumstances. I believe it was a few months ago, you had some damage to your knee. I told you to come back if it had gotten worse, the damage has gotten remarkably worse, and it is a wonder you are still walking. You should have come in sooner. How is your pain?[/i]
To be honest, it hurts like hell. You are right, it had been getting progressively worse, but I am at a point where I cannot just drop the championship and have surgery. I wake up in pain every day, but I must keep going.[/i]
Mr. Shaunessy, have you been taking the pain medication I gave you?[/i]
Aye, I have, but its not working as effectively anymore. I will live through it, however. I have a big matchup coming up, and I'll fight through it as I always do.
Its not working as effectively because you are building a resistance to the medication. That, and the pain is becoming more extreme by the sounds of it. By the looks of this chart...you should not be wrestling right now, you need the surgery. Take a leaf out of Triple H's book and get it done, and come back, making an impact.[/i]
Thats the difference between me and Triple H, I am tougher than he is, and can take more damage before breaking. I cannot be put on the shelf for eight to nine months. Its funny you mention him, as he is my upcoming opponent. I have some issues with him, that I plan to settle.[/i]
I'm sorry Sheamus, but I don't think I can clear you to wrestle. I shouldn't have cleared you a couple months ago, and I will not be responsible for any long term damage. I cannot sign the papers for you to compete. Besides, you really won't be out for that long, maybe two months, at most. [/i]
Sheamus's head spun, and his heart dropped. It was as if his whole world had been turned upside down and dropped on him. It was crushing, devastating, he could not stand for this. Wrestling was his life, his passion, and he could not just stop.
If you continue on like this, it could end your career. Listen, I've known you for five years, and you are one of my favorite patients, and I'm also a fan of you in the ring. I always root for you, and cheer you on in your matches. Regardless of how well I like you...ethically speaking....
To hell with the ethics! I cannot afford to spent even two months outside of a wrestling ring. I'm not getting any younger, I'm thirty two years old and don't plan on retiring when I'm fifty. Sooner than that. Please do this for me, as a friend, I am calling in a friend's favor. Do not do this to me, I need this matchup, just up my dosage and I'll wear a leg brace of something, until I am at a point where I can get the surgery.[/i]
[/color]
The man sighs and shakes his head
No, I will not sign the papers. You are unfit to wrestle. I am really sorry.
I urge you to reconsider.
No. I am standing my ground on this one.[/i][/color]
The eyes of Sheamus flash with anger, and those fiery red eyebrows narrow. He stands up suddenly, and bursts into action, hitting a devastating Brogue kick to the chest of the doctor, intentionally not knocking him unconscious. The man falls to the floor, holding his chest and gasping for air.
You just had to do this the hard way, didn't you? I believe I will get a second opinion, I thank you for your time doctor. Oh, and by the way, mention this to anyone and it will be your skull next time.[/i]
Sheamus spits on the man, and walks out the door. He regains his composure, shuts the door, and strolls off with a slight limp, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He goes up front, pays the receptionist for the tests and the visit, and bids her a good day. He walks out the front doors, and heads off to get his "second opinion".
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New York City. The sights and sounds and smells, it was quite exciting. Despite it being an American City, Sheamus moderately enjoyed himself here whenever he came. He would be competing in the legendary Madison Square Garden, against Triple H, a man he hated immensely. The hustle and bustle of the city, the cars, the crowds, the city itself was just electric with energy. Sheamus loved coming to these type of large cities. There were more people here to boo him, to voice their displeasure. He would have alot of fun tormenting them, angering them, making them hate him even more. That, and he could scoff at the notion of the Statue of Liberty, which was in all actuality a rather ugly statue. It was also ironic, that is was supposedly a symbol of Liberty. Liberty in the United States was a joke, as it was slowly being taken away by the government and Obama, changing everything they believed in. But who cares? It was a country he held no love for anyways, and he had more important things to worry about tonight.
Sheamus arrived at Madison Square Garden, and the crowd was already buzzing in excitement. Surely they were excited for the Sheamus and Triple H matchup, which by all means should have been the main event. The Celtic Warrior, in his own opinion, was the highlight of the night as far as he was concerned. He shrugged and entered the building, carrying his bag slung over his shoulder containing all of the things he would need for the night. He also carried some papers in his hand. He was immediately greeted by Todd Grisham.
Sheamus, can I have some words on your matchup tonight with Triple H?
No, you can't fella. I just barely got here and the last thing I want to do is be bothered by some scrawny, pencil neck like yourself. Get out of my face and let me go change my damn clothes.[/i]
Todd Grisham wisely gets out of the way in a very quick fashion, not wanting to further anger the volatile Irishman. Sheamus walks back to his dressing room and plops down his bag. He prepares for the evening, and gets his wrestling attire on, and then heads down to the temporary office of the head medical staff. He walks in without knocking.[
Ah, Sheamus welcome! I know your knee has been giving you troubles, and last time we spoke I arranged for you to see the doctor and get the tests done. Have you been medically cleared?
Yes, I have the papers right here. They are all in order, and I can wrestle tonight.[/i]
The man looks over the papers with a scrutinizing eye, and makes sure all the information is correct and valid.
Indeed everything does seem to be in order. Did you get a new doctor?
Aye, I did. My doctor was out of town, and so I was referred to another. I'm still having some pain, but I was prescribed some anti inflammatory medications that will clear up any issues.
Very good then, good luck in your match up tonight.[/i]
Sheamus nods to the man and heads out of the office. He decides he should address the audience before the show officially goes on the air, and he heads towards the front of the arena where thousands of excited fans await. Tonight promised to be a good show, and they would get their moneys worth. Sheamus paused behind the curtains, and nodded to the production crew, who were sitting around shooting the breeze. They checked their watches, but merely shrugged, even though the show had not started yet. They began to setup the lights, music, and video for Sheamus. After a short amount of time, the entrance for Sheamus began to blare over the arena, and before Sheamus could even emerge from behind the curtains, they were already booing. This New York crowd was a bit rowdy, and Sheamus smiled at the quick reaction, and the intensity of it. He pushed aside the curtains and strode forward.
Sheamus entered onto the stage, and held his fists out to their sides, before pounding his chest. He turned around, in time to see the titantron video of him brutally destroying his opponents, and he pointed to the large and expensive titantron screen, drawing more boos from the audience. He turned back around, and strode down to the ring with his usual swagger and "confidence". His knee was shooting sharp pains up his leg, his brain screaming at him in protest, but he ignored it and continued on, as if nothing was bothering him. He managed to smirk, and spit in the face of a fan who was swearing at him from behind the barrier. The man began to jump the railing, but Sheamus nailed a big right hand to his face, and security began to swarm the man, escorting him out of the building.
Each action had the crowd booing louder, and soon Sheamus could not even hear his own thoughts. Oh how he loved enraging them. He climbed up the steel steps, and walked along the apron. He tucked his large Celtic Cross to his chest, and stepped under the top rope, and entered the ring. He raised his hands in the air, and then give a rather obscene gesture to the audience, drawing more of the expected reaction. He patted the Celtic championship around his waist a few times. He chuckled a little bit to himself, and was handed the microphone by the ring announcer, who tried to be heard over the loud audience, but was too muffled due to the intensity of the boos.
The Celtic Warrior stood there for atleast two minutes, waiting for the crowd to die down a bit, or atleast enough so that he may be able to speak and be heard. Finally, they died down enough and he raised the microphone to his mouth.
Tonight, you are all in for a special treat. Once again you get to see the Celtic Champion in action! I will be facing none other than the Game, the Cerebral Assassin, Triple H!
The crowd begins to cheer at the mention of the Game.
Now, we have had a history, me and Hunter in the past, in the Old WWE. I challenged him to a match at Wrestlemania, and I fell short. However, I learned much from the loss, as any warrior does, and I defeated him at Extreme Rules, and injured him. However, none of those matches even matter now, as this is now Thy WWE, and we have not had out first Wrestlemania. I know I can beat Triple H, I know how to. I have your number Hunter.
Now, I know here you are a two time Intercontinental Champion. Most impressive, is it not? I am only on my first title reign, though I have renamed it the Celtic Championship, the name itself holding more prestige than the aforementioned. Now Hunter, I understand you have held this title before, but what makes you think you can take it from me? I recall you losing the championship the first time to Brian Gunn, only to win it back later. The second time, you lost it to Dan Hellman. Heres the thing fella, you lost the championship to men I have already beaten here. I defeated Dan Hellman for the title, and I defended it successfully against Brian Gunn. I did not lose to either of them. If you cannot beat men that I can destroy, then how do you expect to measure up to me? I remember once upon a time you saying that you were the measuring stick for any wrestler in this business, oh how the mighty have fallen.
After losing the championship for a second time, you decided to move up and go after Thy WWE Championship, which was a mistake on your part. How many times have you had a shot Hunter? How many times have you gotten to face CM Punk, only to lose and get humiliated? Week after week I have seen it happen, and it makes me think management has some sort of bias towards you. You are given opportunity after opportunity, but each one you receive is wasted, and squandered. If I was to face CM Punk for the championship, there is not a doubt in my mind that I would be walking out with the strap. I have won nine straight in a row, and you should feel priviledged to be my tenth, and my sixth successful title defense.
I'm not trying to take away what you have done in your career, because at one point in time you were the greatest wrestler in the world. You WERE the measuring stick, but not anymore fella. I have taken your place, and our match will officially be a passing of the torch. You see, you've almost had as many world championships as Ric Flair, and will go down as one of the greatest in this business. However, your time is up, its about time you retired. Don't get me wrong, you still have tremendous ability, and this will not be an easy match for me. I'll still walk out as the victor, but I will work hard for it, you, and I, wouldn't have it any other way. After this match, though, it should be time for you to hang up the boots. You are done, step out of the limelight, give up all the opportunities wasted on you that should be given to the new guys who actually deserve it.
You keep losing matches, losing championships, or not winning them. You don't have it anymore. You are failing as a wrestler, a professional, and you are failing in other aspects aswell. I mean, I've seen you in recent months run around persuing women backstage instead of focusing on matches and your career. Perhaps the lack of focus is to blame for your failure. I mean, hell, even your wife Stephanie left you for John Morrison. How does that make you feel, that you are not man enough for her anymore? As she once said, when she left you for Jericho...when it came to the bedroom, you just came up a little short. Just like our match coming up, you will come up just a little short.
Now I expect this match to be a legendary bout however, and I would be sorely disappointed if you did not bring your "A" game to the match. I enjoy being challenged, I love a good fight, and I hope you are up to the task. Do so and you will gain my respect, if you do not then it will prove everything I have just said about you. I guess we will find out in a few hours Hunter, won't we? You can either come in and get slaughtered, or we can make this a match to remember, a Clash of Titans. The choice is yours Triple H. Either way, whether you come out with fury, or with nothing left in the tank, you WILL fall to the Celtic Warrior, Sheamus O'Shaunessy![/i]
Sheamus drops the microphone, lifting his arms into the air once more, and he heads backstage to prepare for his match.
