Post by x|SHAWN DREAMER|x on Feb 8, 2011 12:04:32 GMT -5
The scene opens up with Coors running behind the Hardcore Prince, who is groggily walking up to the locker room. He has a towel over his shoulder and is seen to be nursing the back of his skull, subduing pain.
"SHAWN! WAIT!"
The scream from Coors gets Shawn to stop and turn, still rubbing the back of his head. His face speaks his mood clearly; he's totally disappointed 'bout something. Without wasting anytime, Charlie grabs his microphone and asks Shawn a question.
"Shawn, you weren't on your best mood in that match and even now you don't look pretty. What's going on? Mind giving us an insight?"
"My mood, Charlie? You really don't know It doesn't matter what you had for dinner! Seriously?"
Charlie nods, making it clear that he wants to know the reason. Shawn shakes his head in disapproval and looks back at Coors, with his eyes ablaze.
"I'm seriously pissed at everything, man. I'm totally pissed at the management booking me poorly like that! I mean, come on! Would you just book a former champion on a match with mere nobodies? If you were smart, you'd have put me somewhere else and have your PPV have a better buyrate. But no.. I was put there against a bunch of jobbers and a EVO reject. You think I have softened up over the years, Coors?"
"Uhh, I don't know, to be honest..."
"Well, let me show you something then..."
Shawn grabs a fallen trash can lid from the side and stares at it, before looking back at Coors who seem to put on his guards. The Hardcore Prince smirks, before projecting the trash can lid to his dome, smashing it hard with a clank. The spot reddens up instantly due to the hit, and Shawn is seen to have his smile intact.
"ONE... that doesn't hurt at all, Coors!"
He repeats the same action again, this time giving the region a darker tint of red.
"TWO! I'm STILL up!"
He takes another shot of the dented lid, and this time busts his temple wide open, getting blood to ooze down his forehead. He follows the first drop to trickle down his nose and then drop on the floor, and smirks, stating that he's still cool.
"There goes the third one, and I'm still up. Coors, you know what, man? This is what I live for. I am HARDCORE and there's none who can outdo me in this one. I take shots in like an addict would take in novacaine, and I still can't have enough! You just can label me as a glorified stuntman, but meh, this is what I live off. I've been the Hardcore Prince for a reason and I don't mind putting it forward over and over. But then, the management fails to realise it. They fail to realise my calibre and they just threw me out there, treating me like a has-been that I'm not. Well Charlie, I guess this one just got the buzz to Smarky's desk. Smarky, I know we had beef back in the days, but you shouldn't just waste me for personal vendetta. You KNOW well that I can be the best at my game, and yeah... *pauses* that just can be a better idea. Why don't you just put me in a match with your best guy in a Deathmatch?! OH WAIT, why don't you just put me in a King of the Deathmatch title match against Dustin Delta? I mean, he's your best hardcore stud right?... right?! Yeah, so... beat it, Charlie! You had your answer, I had my message sent and I gotta heal right now!"
With that being said, Shawn turns around and spots his partner, Kahlan standing right behind him with a huge smile. She has both the tag title replicas over her shoulder and her look changes to a disgusted one as she spots the stream of blood trickling down Shawn's nose.
"Shawn, you look HORRIBLE! Go get a shower! and..."
She grabs one of the belts and puts it over Shawn's shoulder, before beaming in glee once again.
"There! You look better already!"
Kahlan walks off the scene, and leaves Dreamer behind, who is seen to be looking at the Ladder Queen's path being dumbfounded.
EORP.
"SHAWN! WAIT!"
The scream from Coors gets Shawn to stop and turn, still rubbing the back of his head. His face speaks his mood clearly; he's totally disappointed 'bout something. Without wasting anytime, Charlie grabs his microphone and asks Shawn a question.
"Shawn, you weren't on your best mood in that match and even now you don't look pretty. What's going on? Mind giving us an insight?"
"My mood, Charlie? You really don't know It doesn't matter what you had for dinner! Seriously?"
Charlie nods, making it clear that he wants to know the reason. Shawn shakes his head in disapproval and looks back at Coors, with his eyes ablaze.
"I'm seriously pissed at everything, man. I'm totally pissed at the management booking me poorly like that! I mean, come on! Would you just book a former champion on a match with mere nobodies? If you were smart, you'd have put me somewhere else and have your PPV have a better buyrate. But no.. I was put there against a bunch of jobbers and a EVO reject. You think I have softened up over the years, Coors?"
"Uhh, I don't know, to be honest..."
"Well, let me show you something then..."
Shawn grabs a fallen trash can lid from the side and stares at it, before looking back at Coors who seem to put on his guards. The Hardcore Prince smirks, before projecting the trash can lid to his dome, smashing it hard with a clank. The spot reddens up instantly due to the hit, and Shawn is seen to have his smile intact.
"ONE... that doesn't hurt at all, Coors!"
He repeats the same action again, this time giving the region a darker tint of red.
"TWO! I'm STILL up!"
He takes another shot of the dented lid, and this time busts his temple wide open, getting blood to ooze down his forehead. He follows the first drop to trickle down his nose and then drop on the floor, and smirks, stating that he's still cool.
"There goes the third one, and I'm still up. Coors, you know what, man? This is what I live for. I am HARDCORE and there's none who can outdo me in this one. I take shots in like an addict would take in novacaine, and I still can't have enough! You just can label me as a glorified stuntman, but meh, this is what I live off. I've been the Hardcore Prince for a reason and I don't mind putting it forward over and over. But then, the management fails to realise it. They fail to realise my calibre and they just threw me out there, treating me like a has-been that I'm not. Well Charlie, I guess this one just got the buzz to Smarky's desk. Smarky, I know we had beef back in the days, but you shouldn't just waste me for personal vendetta. You KNOW well that I can be the best at my game, and yeah... *pauses* that just can be a better idea. Why don't you just put me in a match with your best guy in a Deathmatch?! OH WAIT, why don't you just put me in a King of the Deathmatch title match against Dustin Delta? I mean, he's your best hardcore stud right?... right?! Yeah, so... beat it, Charlie! You had your answer, I had my message sent and I gotta heal right now!"
With that being said, Shawn turns around and spots his partner, Kahlan standing right behind him with a huge smile. She has both the tag title replicas over her shoulder and her look changes to a disgusted one as she spots the stream of blood trickling down Shawn's nose.
"Shawn, you look HORRIBLE! Go get a shower! and..."
She grabs one of the belts and puts it over Shawn's shoulder, before beaming in glee once again.
"There! You look better already!"
Kahlan walks off the scene, and leaves Dreamer behind, who is seen to be looking at the Ladder Queen's path being dumbfounded.
EORP.
I'll just have to take out Matt Violence first, and then I'll turn my attention to you, bro.