Post by Shamus on May 28, 2008 17:01:31 GMT -5
The scene opens in a rowdy Irish bar, and sure enough seated at that bar is the hulking form of the Irish (or is it Scottish?) wildman known as Shamus. He blinked at the camera, throwing another empty glass down the bar before he snapped his fingers.
"Fookin' Max Jewel threatened to hit meh with his bleeding stick! And you bloody know why? Because he and that wee lad of 'is cannae win a match any other fookin' way!"
Shamus blinked, burping loudly before he hammered his fist on the bar with a wild glare. And another mug was shoved into his hand, he drained half of it spraying foam before he waved it around.
"Mikkey and that bloody idjit Max Jewel like to claim everyone but them is suckin' the dick of da Ringmaster, they say that everyone but them is toolin' da fookin' boss to get ahead! But I'm tellin' all of ye, that the people I always see up da arse of dat man is those two!"
He took another draught from his mug, shaking his head before he snarled.
"And that other fookin' jackarese dat piece o' shit, Croc! And since they hae to do it? They think everyone else has to do it too, but some of us are actually talented! We hae a little something dat they dunnae, and that is fookin' skill!"
Shamus threw aside another mug, running a hand through his hair. Foam dripped from his beard, and he shook his head before he continued.
"Max Jewel, ya like to walk around 'ere with yer bloody stick and act like a big man! Ya and yer stick had behind that faerie lad of yers, and run yer bloody mouth! Well, me da always told me that if a man with a stick comes at ye? Ye get a bigger fookin' stick!"
Shamus reached under the bar, pulling out a huge carved club of polished wood with a knot at the end. He slapped it against his palm, then tossed it on the bar.
"This 'ere is mah fookin' shillelagh, and I am goin' to fookin' cave ye and yer boy 'ead in at Revolution! And I am going to take dat TV Championship, and after I do all dat? I am goin' to fookin' teach ye a bloody lesson, Jewel!"
"Fookin' Max Jewel threatened to hit meh with his bleeding stick! And you bloody know why? Because he and that wee lad of 'is cannae win a match any other fookin' way!"
Shamus blinked, burping loudly before he hammered his fist on the bar with a wild glare. And another mug was shoved into his hand, he drained half of it spraying foam before he waved it around.
"Mikkey and that bloody idjit Max Jewel like to claim everyone but them is suckin' the dick of da Ringmaster, they say that everyone but them is toolin' da fookin' boss to get ahead! But I'm tellin' all of ye, that the people I always see up da arse of dat man is those two!"
He took another draught from his mug, shaking his head before he snarled.
"And that other fookin' jackarese dat piece o' shit, Croc! And since they hae to do it? They think everyone else has to do it too, but some of us are actually talented! We hae a little something dat they dunnae, and that is fookin' skill!"
Shamus threw aside another mug, running a hand through his hair. Foam dripped from his beard, and he shook his head before he continued.
"Max Jewel, ya like to walk around 'ere with yer bloody stick and act like a big man! Ya and yer stick had behind that faerie lad of yers, and run yer bloody mouth! Well, me da always told me that if a man with a stick comes at ye? Ye get a bigger fookin' stick!"
Shamus reached under the bar, pulling out a huge carved club of polished wood with a knot at the end. He slapped it against his palm, then tossed it on the bar.
"This 'ere is mah fookin' shillelagh, and I am goin' to fookin' cave ye and yer boy 'ead in at Revolution! And I am going to take dat TV Championship, and after I do all dat? I am goin' to fookin' teach ye a bloody lesson, Jewel!"
