A Message from the Hands-on Favourite
Back in the good old Irish pub...
we find Pat McGee, formerly known as Pat Gordon, and his new protege, the six foot-six, nearly three hundred pound gentle giant, Shamrock Finnegan. The two Irish hooligans are sharing a pint of Guinness with some good, hard-working Irish-Americans.
Everyone is gathered around the old television set, watching the tape of Shamrock's first match as a professional against Lars Magellan.
On TV:
Gonzago: "It was certainly a hard fought match, as Lars Magellan moves on to the second round. But let's not discredit Shamrock Finnegan. In his first professional match, he almost defeated a veteran. This kid has major potential and I wouldn't be surprised if he was the odds on favorite to win the NWL Television title."
Kincaid: "I would actually agree with you on that one Emanuel."
Finnegan: (Watching the television) Ay O!
P. McGee: Haha! Did you see that, Shammy? They said you're the odds on favourite to win that Television Title at the Rumble in the Jungle match!
Finnegan: (Throwing his mentor a menacing look) DONNAE CALL ME SHAMMY! I cannae believe I lost that match. I nearly had him, TWICE!
P. McGee: Don't worry about it, Finnegan. You put up a good fight, and you're bound to win the TV Title. You'll get your shot at Lars again; I'll see to that. Just focus on what's ahead of you.
Finnegan: Aye, 'tis true. So, have ye done the scouting yet, McGee?
P. McGee: Indeed, I have, Finnegan. Not too much to worry about, except Jarod Poe and Hacker. Maybe this Frost character. He has a reputation in Florida, but if his next NWL showing is anything like his last, I wouldn't worry.
This John Doe kid thinks he sees a champion when he looks in the mirror, but unless he's putting a poster of you over his mirror, I'm not seeing what he's seeing. He's just some pretend mental-case. It seems none of them are even thinking about being in the ring with you, Champ.
Finnegan: Aye, John Doe, donnae be so arrogant, for ye see, ye are nae stepping between those ropes with just anyone. Ye are stepping in between those ropes with me, and I will make it me own personal mission to see to't that ye donnae win the Television Title. To you, John Doe, just another arrogant Tory, the Television Title is nothing more that a piece of leather with some gold on't. For me, however, 'tis a stepping stone to revenge.
I'm nae a man to be overlooked, mates. Ryan Cruz, John Doe, Edy Feria, Cameron Love, Luster, Frost, and even Hacker and Jarod Poe from GLCW, to me ye are all just bodies to be thrown over the top rope; ye just form a small barrier between me and my goals. I will have my rematch with Lars Magellan, and I know that winning the Television Title is a great way to go aboot doing it.
Ye see, Gonzago called me the odds on favourite for a reason. That reason, simply put, is that I'm bigger than you, I'm smarter than you, and I'm more talented than you. I was trained by the best, ye know.
Shamrock pats McGee on the back. All of those things aside, I have the drive, and I have the dedication to beat each and every one of ye. Ye sit around in insane asylums or on beaches, sipping yer herbal tea or thorizine IVs, and what do ye talk aboot? Nae what's goinae happen when Shamrock Finnegan is in the ring, but I donnae blame ye one bit. I would nae wannae worry aboot that, meself, if I was you.
(Shamrock takes a big swig of his Guinness, then slams the glass on the bar)
Ryan Cruz, ye donnae seem much more t'me than some brat kid, rebelling against everything just for the sake o' rebelling, and John Doe, well yer name suits ye, because that's what they're goinae call ye down at the morgue after this Rumble in the Jungle Match.
P. McGee: Welcome to the Jungle, ladies. Just for the record, everyone, I was the one who eliminated the most people in CPW's battle royale, and I'm the one who trained Shamrock Finnegan. Makes you wonder what he'll do to all of you, doesn't it? Hahaha.
Finnegan: I'll tell ye all what I'm goinnae do. I'm goinnae show ye all why 26+6=1.
Everyone in the pub: Ay O, ay O, ay O! AY O!
(McGee and Finnegan down their Guinness)
P. McGee: Come on, Finnegan, we've got some training to do.
The two hooligans leave the pub, shaking hands with all of the patrons on their way out...
The End.