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| A Fallen Solider...; A Rising Warrior | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 11 2010, 09:43 PM (88 Views) | |
| Ben M | Jul 11 2010, 09:43 PM Post #1 |
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Hypocrites and Sycophants!
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The first warp-spasm seized Cú Chulainn, and made him into a monstrous thing, hideous and shapeless, unheard of. His shanks and his joints, every knuckle and angle and organ from head to foot, shook like a tree in the flood or a reed in the stream. His body made a furious twist inside his skin, so that his feet and shins switched to the rear and his heels and calves switched to the front... As he woke up, his body aching too much to let him sleep, Sheamus remembered the story of Cú Chulainn. Unlike the mythological Irish hero, Sheamus was not being transformed into a monster; however, he felt like his body was being mutilated as a result of being a professional wrestler. The sore muscles, the joint spasms, the scratches and bruises that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his body – this was the price of living his dream. It was a price he paid gladly, but on nights like this when the pain was preventing him from sleeping, he had to remind himself that it was worth it. What was particularly frustrating on this occasion was the fact that his aches and pains were mostly self inflicted. Sheamus had come out of his match with Chris Hero practically unscathed, although having been told his next match was against John Cena in the main event, he had pushed himself to the limit with a series of intense workouts. The match was less than 24 hours away, and Sheamus began to wonder if resting and relaxing was the best way to prepare for his golden opportunity. Skipping the gym would be difficult for him – he’d been obsessed with working out even before he’d decided he wanted to be a wrestler. Knowing that his current mental and physical state would make it impossible for him to sleep, at least for the next few hours, Sheamus sat up in his bed. Doing so caused a sharp pain to shoot down his spinal cord, and he let out an agonising groan. He muttered to himself as he tried to make himself comfortable. Sheamus: I should go back to being a bodyguard... restraining crazy hippies was far less painful. He laughed to himself, then looked around the blackened room. There wasn’t much to look at – a desk with facilities for making coffee, a TV that received two or three channels, a stiff sofa-bed and what had to be the world’s smallest en suite bathroom. His bedroom in Florida was bigger, and a damn sight nicer, but he didn’t stay there very often. Every match he wrestled meant a night or two in a new hotel room, and he found the hotels he stayed in were very much hit and miss – he’d seen everything from rooms worthy or royalty to places where he felt lucky to have checked out without catching something. In the grand scheme of things, it was a small sacrifice to make. When he thought of that insect infested room in Kentucky, he told himself it was a stepping stone to becoming “the first Irish-born WWE Champion”. He’d been well looked after in the WWE. A world title run six months after making his television debut was a sign of how highly Vince McMahon and company had rated him. But he’d also gotten bored quickly; even before his first reign as WWE Champion, he’d began to tire of the backstage politics, the constant changing plans and the lack of a long-term creative strategy. He fancied a new challenge, and the EBWF certainly provided one... he’d heard a lot about Wes Ikeda, some of it good, some of it not so good. His initial impression was a positive one, and an early main event spot had come as a pleasant surprise. But grateful though he was, he was also paranoid about being booked against John Cena. Cena’s friendship with the other Ikeda was well publicised, and his runner up spot in the King of the Ring tournament was a sure sign of the regard in which he was held. Cena might have lost two of his three titles in quick succession, but Sheamus could see “The Chain Gang Solider” dropping the Intercontinental Title too, in order to move into the World Title picture. So what did Sheamus’ match with the new favourite mean for Sheamus? Was he also getting pushed to the top? Or was he there as a sacrificial lamb – an easy target for Cena to bury and come out looking like a star? The Celtic Warrior had no idea what this booking meant... he just knew that if it was for the latter purposes, he’d have to throw a spanner in the works. That idea made him smile – Sheamus was determined that his career path would be mapped out by him and no one else. As he began to envisage defeating John Cena, he closed his eyes. It took him a while to get back to sleep, but he suddenly seemed to be in a lot less pain. ********** The next day, Sheamus arrived at the Rose Quarter Arena in high spirits. He felt ready for his match with Cena – more than ready, in fact. There were some keen EBWF fans hanging around before the show, but few of them were interested in him. Sheamus imagined that when his opponent arrived, the reaction would be far more positive. Two hours later, when most of the fans had taken their seats, Sheamus went out to the ring to address them. He took a book with them, and he smirked to himself as he saw the looks of confusion and intrigue from fans in the front row. After entering the ring, Sheamus grabbed a microphone. His music was cut and he began to speak. Sheamus: Amháin síos, i bhfad níos mó dul. One down, many more to go. Last week, I said I was going to destroy Chris Hero and I did just that. I gave him a beating so effective, he’s gone crawling back to the indies in search of easier competition. I am a Celtic warrior and in my first battle, I caused a man to surrender. Your hero, John Cena, is next. The reaction from the crowd was mixed. Some of them booed the idea of Cena surrendering, others cheered to show their support for the Intercontinental Champion. A small minority tried to start a chant for Sheamus, but they were drowned out by the rest. Sheamus grinned. Sheamus: Aye, just as I thought. John Cena is a hero, at least if you’re a woman or a child. To me he’s just an inconvenience – a man that stands in my way as I try to become the next EBWF World Champion. I don’t need your support to deal with John. Heck, I don’t even want it. All I wanted was a chance, and I have that. See, the problem with relying on your people is that you’re so bleedin’ fickle. You generally do what you’re told to, but every so often, you surprise yourselves. You stop being a sheep and start thinking for yourself. That’s undue pressure on poor Johnny boy, and everyone else that lives for your cheers. I am no sheep. I do what I want, when I want. And tonight, I’m going to take out John Cena. |
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1:54 PM Jul 11