Post by Sheamus on Jun 28, 2010 23:25:19 GMT -5
The scene opens in Aerfort Bhaile Átha Cliath, the Dublin Airport. Sheamus exits the plane as they land, and walks off the airplane, and heads thru the tunnel. Upon arrival of the room adjacent to the tunnel, a loud uproar begins. There is a throng of people, crowding the room. They begin to scream, yell, and cheer their hearts out upon seeing Sheamus. The security seems to be a bit relaxed, as Sheamus was akin to a hero, to the people of Ireland. People shoved eachother around, threw punches, but all in good fun and nature, laughing it off. Today, was to be celebrated, as Sheamus brought them honor.
Sheamus raises his arms in the air, much to the delight of the crowd, and they continue to cheer for him. Domestic Irish ale and beer is sprayed around, on everyone, including Sheamus, the security even joining in the fun. He lowers his arms, and his parents, having taken the liberty of already retrieving his bags for him, approach him, and Sheamus embraces his mother and father. His mother, having tears of joy in her eyes, his father beaming, full of pride. They dig out the United States and Intercontinental championship from the bags, and they are handed to Sheamus. He takes one in each hand, and raises them high in the air.
The crowd once again erupts, the noise deafening. He waits for them to quiet down, which is a considerable amount of time. He lowers the titles, and puts them over each respective shoulder, and begins to speak.
Ah, today is a glorious day, to be among my kin on such a special occaision! For weeks, I have fought, scratched, clawed, and climbed my way up thru the dolbya dolbya eee. My hard work has paid off, my countless hours of training, my heart shown in my matches, acrewing victory, after victory. I am the first double, unified United States and Intercontinental champion in Thy dolbya dolbya eee history. My heart is filled with pride, upon seeing my kin, here with me, in rejoicing my success. I did not win the Rumble Match, but I made a good showing, and I have brought this gold home, to where it belongs. I proved all the critics, all the doubters wrong. Look at them now, appearing as idiots with their thumbs up their arses. I didn't do this for me. I DID THIS FOR ALL OF YOU! TODAY BELONGS TO THE CELTIC PEOPLE!!
Again the throng of people go crazy, and he embraces his mother and father yet again. He raises his arms again, and they head out to the streets of Dublin, where it is almost at a riot status, but somewhat peacefully. It appears as if the whole town is in celebration of Sheamus' victories, and are living as if today was their last day. Sheamus gives a big grin, happy to see them in such fine spirits. His parents flag down a taxi, and load the baggage into it. They get in, and drive off, letting Sheamus bask in the moment, and drive off to the appointed spot. Sheamus spends the day with the people of Dublin. He mingles, shares drinks, dances, signs autographs, takes pictures, with all his fans that love him so dearly. He loses himself in the moment, and spends time with the people who matter the most to him. More than one female on occaision flirts with him, and he "scores", gets lucky, more than once. After all of his celebrations, exhausted, he gets a cab, and he goes off to the appointed spot.
Scene fades
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The next scene opens, as Sheamus is driven, up a winding path, up a green, grassy hill, at the top lays the ruins of a great castle, on the coast. The water is a beautiful shade of blue, and at the bottom lay many stones and rocks. He tips the cab driver, and exits, walking into the castle courtyard, where yet again, many more people are crowded together, waiting for their hero to arrive. Once again, the celebration continues, and the sound is like thunder. He straps the United States Championship around his waist, and slings the Intercontinental Championship on his shoulder, and heads up to a highspot, ascending a staircase to a platform. He also carries with him, a black bag, made of cloth, its contents unseen. As he reaches the top, he again raises the belts in the air, after unstrapping the U.S. title from his waist. The people go nuts. Sheamus begins to speak, after gesturing for the crowd to quiet down.
We told them all. We told them, Sheamus would carve his legacy. We told them, of the greatness of Sheamus. The Warrior of the Irish people. Did they listen? No. So we had to prove it, we had to show them, we had to shove it down their throats! Now they know, I am the modern day Cu Chulainn. It will not stop here, I will continue to grow, as my legend does, for the glory of the Celtic people!
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So much I have endured, so hard have I worked for this moment, and for greater moments to come! They will have no choice to respect me! Despite everything I have done, despite everything I have proven, they still have not gotten it thru their thick skulls! I have done amazing things, and accomplished something nobody in THY Dolbya Dolbya EEE, has ever done! I go to look at the Power Rankings, and I am not even listed?! What kinda shite is that? They can go Póg mo thóin, Is cuma liom sa diabhal!! Montel Vontavious Porter? I defeated that thug weeks ago! He is nothing! Dan Hellman? I just kicked his arse from one side of the ring to the other, took his championship, and he is rated higher than me aswell?! This is a direct result, of fear. They fear us, they fear the Celtic People, and the Celtic Warrior. They know what I can do, and so they try to push me down, try to hinder my progress. Then, they book me to defend my title, from one who has not earned a shot. Brian Gunn? It is no matter, for all shall fall from the mighty swing of me blade. They will have no choice, week after week, as I continue to dominate Raw. However, I am insulted, they do me much dishonor, as they do dishonor themselves. Vince McMahon, you do not take me, take US, seriously? Heres a message to you, and what I think of ya. You see these?
Sheamus holds the title belts up to the camera.
Worthless pieces o' garbage! They are beneath me. The United States championship? I wipe my arse with the United States, to hell with all of them. The Intercontinental Championship? Not worthy, of such a warrior of great origin. You disrespect me, I disrespect you.
Sheamus grabs the Intercontinental Championship Belt, turns around, swinging it, and tosses it with all his strength, sending it flying, out to the ocean, where it sinks. He then takes the United States belt, spits on it, and does the same, spinning, and letting it fly, this one going even further, sinking to the depths of the deep waters. Turned around, he then lowers his trunks, and begins to piss after them to the direction they went, much to the pleasure and delight of the crowd, and they begin to laugh. Sheamus pulls them back up, turning around with a smirk on his face, laughter following aswell.
Now, what am I to do without a championship belt? Simple. They were to be unified, anyways, and so I had something made, far better. Something that is more fitting for a man of my stature, something, dedicated, to all of you.
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He picks up the black, cloth, bag, and reaches inside it, pulling out a championship belt, covered with Celtic Crosses, and his logo. He raises it up, and the people gasp, in shock. Their shock turns to awe, which turns to, yet again, more celebration. The resulting sound probably could have been heard for miles, it would seem. He lifts it up in the arm, then places it around his waist, raising his large meaty fists up towards the skies. He turns to the camera then, to address Brian Gunn, instead of the crowd. They eat it up anyways, their focus on him, clinging to everyword he speaks, as if some sort of prophet of the Irish People.
Brian Gunn, so you have returned. You decided to come into the ring with a chair, after my victory. I decided to spare you at that moment, so you would be at your best for our match. You see, it doesn't matter who I face, they will all fall under me axe. You are lucky you did not enter the rumble, you pulled out, because you are a coward, because you were afraid of what I would have done to you. You would have been tossed right over the top rope after I smashed in your face with me boot. So, you have made a triumphant return. Good for you. I have been doing a bit of research on you, fella, and I must say I am impressed. Lets take a walk down memory lane, shall we?
You debuted months ago, with your rediculous theme music. You were in a battle royal of sorts, to determine the number one contender for the Intercontinental championship. You faced Crash Barley, whoever the hell that is, you faced Christian Cage, a memory long forgotten, fading into obscurity. Raven, a man long past his prime, who never could get it done in the big leagues. Rey Mysterio, a rather small and insignificant man, half a man, perhaps. Then there was Abyss, the cheesy ripoff of Mankind and Kane, a pathetic fat piece o' crap. And the other two, Shawn Michaels, the heartbreak kid, and Hulk Hogan, two other washed up wrestlers, who are past their prime, clinging to a frail thread in an attempt to gain back the fortune they squandered, and to prevent falling away into nothingness, a chance to reclaim their glory. You managed to win the match, last taking out Rey Mysterio. You beat multiple other wrestlers, an easy feat considering your opponents, but nontheless impressive for your debut.
You became the number one contender, for Triple H's title. You faced him and Mysterio in a tag team match, your tag partner not showing up, and you yet managed to pull off the win, even if it was by a disqualification, well done. Next, you received your long awaited title shot, in a triple threat match, against the Game, and Mysterio. As I recall from the video, Mysterio had hit Triple H with the 619, and was about to win, until you pushed him off the ring apron, and pinned the champion yourself. A very smart move, even if a bit questionable in regards to honor, you pulled it off, and won the Intercontinental Championship in only your third match, an impressive feat.
Your success didn't stop there, oh not at all! You destroyed the returning Mr. Kennedy in a first blood match, defending your title at No Mercy. You're undefeated streak remained intact, and you continued to impress, and win over the fans. The next night on Raw, you competed against your nemesis Triple H, in a mixed tag team match. You took him out, allowing your partner to get the pinfall. The following week, you defeated Chris Jericho, defending your title successfully. It would appear you were on the rise to greatness, destroying everyone in your path.
You had it all, Gunn. You had the affection of all, their respect, you had the championship, you had your undefeated streak. You were UNSTOPPABLE. Then, alas, you slipped. In a rematch, The Cerebral Assassin took your beloved title from you, snatched it from your grip, crushing your dreams. However, a warrior does not let a loss stop him. He does not let defeat get to him, he learns from it, comes back stronger. And now we start to see the comparison between you and I.
What did you do? Did you rebound? Attempt to get your title back? You faced Mike Knox, and he absolutely decimated you. You just gave up, you didn't try, you showed no heart. You were beaten and broken, in body and spirit. You're spirit failed, and you showed exactly how much heart you possessed in the match.
It continued on the next week. You lost to some up and comer named Kaz, in TWO MINUTES. Two minutes Brian, that is all you could muster? You didn't even try. You are weak, you have no balls whatsoever. What did you do with three losses in a row? You ran away, you hid, never to be seen again, apparently. You went, and you cried little a little girl, like the little bitch you are. You quit, you did not appear again for quite some time. You had it all, and you lost it, you let it all slip away, like sand escaping between your fingers.
Months later, you show up, at the Royal Rumble, and think to challenge me for the Celtic Cross Championship? You've got to be fucking kidding me. What makes you think you deserve a shot at my championship? What have you done, that makes you think you are WORTHY? You cannot matchup to the Celtic Warrior. I will send you back into hiding from the world. You're triumphant comeback, will prove to not be so triumphant. You are all washed up aswell, your time is DONE, you are PAST your prime. I know you have been in many companies, facing the best each had to offer. You even won your first world title at the age of nineteen! But I am afraid that those glory days are long past ya, fella.
You call yourself the World's Greatest, what a joke. Your finisher, the total destruction? Thats exactly what will happen to you. Perhaps you should find some other, smaller company to work for, to find your place in life. Perhaps join another company with once great, but fallen wrestlers, that you may be better able to compete with. Some small and insignificant promotion that holds their matches in High School gymnasiums. I don't really care, but all I know is that you don't belong here, you have no place competing with the big dogs anymore. Go home, do not even show up, lest you embarass yourself. Maintain what small measure of dignity you have remaining. You are done, finished. I'll prove this, when you, like all the others, fall to the might of the Celtic Warrior...Sheamus O'Shaunessy!
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The scene fades, with Sheamus holding his Celtic Championship belt high in the air, his kin cheering, basking in the glory under the light of the moon and the stars, that are seeming to shine on Sheamus this night.
Scene fades.....
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