Reward?
It was there for the taking.
The reward.
An opportunity to show the world, the entire Coalition of Affiliated Leagues, and especially the arrogant bastards of NPW, of which was epitomized by our foes for that evening - what the CAL, the BWWa, and what the Whiskey Devils were made of. And I knew we would.
I knew we would before the pay-per-view.
I knew we would.
But now - everyone knew.
The reward was there for the taking.
It did not come easily however. They matched us punch for punch, suplex for suplex. And my back paid the price, with that tumble towards the end of the match. I still feel its effects, compounded now with the effects of that goddamned car accident fiasco gone wrong with Leviathan, back in WWA.
It was a price well paid, this evening.
Seamus finished off Soylent Green with his usual flare and malice. I'm almost glad he did it on his own. I hope Carrington was watching well.
And I hope he enjoyed my selection of wine.
Grin.
I don't know what inspired me to destroy a bottle of wine worth almost half a thousand dollars, if not more, and waste it on a boor such as Carrington, but Top Dollar - erm, Mr. Hartwig - seemed to enjoy it. As did I.
And as did the Triumvirate as we feasted on the destroyed remnants of Carrington's wrecked frame, until those prissies from Larger than Life had to spoil our fun.
Regardless. Absolute Power was a grand evening.
Champions were forged and unified into one. One victory for NPW, one for the CAL in that department. That seemed democratic.
I made a new friend, as juvenile as that seems. Top Dollar was a young, energetic superstar. A bit of a louse when it comes to maturity, but still, I respected his achievements at such a young age.
I'm not that old am I?
Ahem. It was good to build relations and allies with someone in a sister federation in the CAL. Who knows. Maybe Mr. Hartwig can begin a new chapter of the Triumvirate in his fed?
Now that was an appealing prospect. I know I'm not the only one who's fucking tired of the CAL being a SeX focused company. Someday they will be crushed.
Someday.
For now though, I will concentrate on our reward.
And it was ours.
Now we would reap the fruits of our labour.
And I in particular would enjoy some time off to enjoy the greatest reward I could ask for: visiting my son.
Scene I: Sunday, May 23, 2004 - Pearson International Airport, Toronto, Ontario
I anticipated this trip with great eagerness.
The engines of the Lear began to rev as we were given clearance to depart from Toronto's Pearson International, only an hour or two after the conclusion of "Absolute Power."
Stephanie, my ex-wife - it still sounds odd saying that - agreed to my seeing Edward on the 24th of May.
Shitty luck that it had to be after the pay-per-view. My body wouldn't be able to handle the rigours of Eddy's boisterous nature now that he's growing up and running around like a little terror, nor my mind, to deal with her, if she's indeed there. But it'll be worth it.
She said she'd be out of the house when I visit. She'd better keep her word.
I'd not be the only one coming to see Edward.
"Ooooh babeee...I love what you've got here..." Marissah cooed with delight, much to my pleasure in reaction to my newly refitted Lear. The old girl was getting a bit old, so I had it redone, redecorated. A little bit of paint here, some marble there, a new Rolls Royce engine there...Home Depot was good to me.
"I'm glad you like it," I smiled, somewhat wearily. Even smiling hurt my poor bashed frame. "But I'm sure you'll enjoy the shopping in London even more."
I shouldn't have said that. The word alone could send the woman into orgasm. Which wasn't a bad thing.
Unless she had my credit card.
The Diner's Club must love her.
"To hell with shopping."
Pardon?
"I can't wait to meet your adoreable little sweetie...I bet he's even cuter than his Daddy."
She smacked me with the usual mix of deliberate pain and playfulness I had come to expect. But still.
OW.
"Why don't you just be a good girl and take a lithium or whatever and pass out, and let me sleep too, please?"
"Aww, my poor wimpy little bitch. Mind you I am excited about going to London, I haven't been in ages it seems."
The satellite phone in front of me began to ring. Why can't they leave me in peace! Whomever, they are, of course...
With a mixture of coarse language and adult situations, I answered the phone.
"Lancaster. Seamus, aye, what's with ya lad...calm down."
Marissah glared at me, wondering what the hell was going on. I patted the air with a stiff hand to shut her up.
"Oh shit." I closed my eyes and inhaled and exhaled deeply.
"You call me any time lad, ye hear me, it's no trouble, ye got that. Aye okay...God bless lad. Aye, later."
I closed my mobile and sighed heavily again.
"What the fuck's going on?? Robert?? London?"
"LONDON CAN WAIT."
Her eyes narrowed in horror at my tone of voice. I bit my lip and cursed under my breath, turning my head away from her. I collected myself and looked back at her, as she sat, confused even more so than before.
"London can wait."
Scene II: Tuesday, May 25, 2004 - O'Leary's Pub, Belfast, Northern Ireland
All was quiet in O'Leary's Pub, oddly enough.
Frank Wanker was nowhere to be seen. Fergal was given the night off. The weather was a bit inclement, so only the most loyal of patrons were present that evening. Including Seamus Finnegan.
O'Leary himself, patron and namesake of the bar he's run for the past few decades, the man whose seen a thousand broken men come and go from this bar saw a very broken man in front of him. He had been staring into the bottom of a singular pint of Guinness for the past hour and a half. And anyone who knew Seamus Finnegan - and O'Leary knew him like a father almost - knew all was not well.
O'Leary just stood silently, near his friend, not wanting to pry, not wanting to provoke Seamus into opening up. He just sat there, drying glasses, watching. Seamus' Guinness was all the company he wanted at that moment, and he dared not interrupt Seamus' deep silence.
Seamus' mobile rang.
It rang again. He pulled it out of his pocket, reluctant to answer.
What if...
What if.
Finally he gave in. "Aye, aye, what is it..." He answered with great tension and nervousness.
A huge sigh of relief passed over him. It was the Duke of Wessex.
"Auch, it's ye...hold on lad." Seamus took a generous helping of Guinness. "Aye, that's better."
"Aye I'm doing okay...as well as can be expected really."
"Auch I'm sittin here in O'Leary's right now...order another pint, aye, that's nay a bad idea really."
"Make sure that's the best pulled pint in Belfast, while you're at it."
The Duke closed his mobile as he entered O'Leary's, soaked in the downpour of rain, but still cheerful nonetheless.
Seamus' eyes lit up at the sight of his tag team partner and close friend entering the bar; an unexpected surprise to say the very least, seeing as he expected Lancaster to be in London with his son.
"Auch, laddy! What brings ye 'round these parts?"
The Duke shook off the rain from his hair and removed his trench coat, tossing it on a bar stool. He smiled and put his hand on Seamus' back, with a glint of sarcasm in his eye
"Whatcha think, ya eejit." Lancaster smiled warmly.
Seamus returned the smile. "Aye, it's good of ye to come, lad. It's been a rough few days, let me tell ye."
Lancaster nodded sympathetically. "I know lad, I know...I can only imagine. How's yer sister and mother doing." Lancaster sat down next to Seamus, and turned towards him.
"No change, unfortunately." He took a sip from his Guinness. "She's still in a coma...my mum's havin' a right rough time of it, but she's a tower o'strength, that one is...Donal might be flyin' out here soon, he's takin' the news rather hard as well."
The Duke sat silently, seeing the pained expression on Seamus' face. Both men were not deeply emotional around the other, and the Duke did not want to dwell on bad news.
"Well lad...if there's anything I can do for you and your family...anything...I don't know what I could offer frankly...but whatever it is, you've got it." Lancaster forced an encouraging smile, which did not come easy.
"Auch, yer a good lad...not much anyone can do right now, to be honest wi'ye...not until she wakes up, an'we know what kind o'state her mind's in...she will wake up, though. I've nay lost hope in that, and I'm holdin' on to that right now...she's been through a hell of a lot, she'll get through this too." He nodded. "She's got to."
Lancaster had given up his faith over a year ago. But at times like this...
"She will lad. She will."
The mood had to change.
"Yer drink is looking a bit low there, lad...how about another one, on me, this time."
Robert pulled out his wallet, and waved it about dramatically. "I remembered it this time, unlike the last time, when you had to pick up that, what, hundred pound tab we had at that bar? I still can't believe I forgot it."
Lancaster of course hadn't forgotten a bloody thing last time he and Seamus went drinking, but he of course feigned forgetfulness.
Seamus laughed, "Aye, ye bloody cheapskate! An' yer royalty an'all!"
Lancaster continued the ruse of innocence with much glee.
"Now come on lad, you know I'm what, SEVENTIETH or something in line to the throne? You'd better be nice, cause if something happens to those other sixty nine folks, you'll be calling me Your Majesty!"
Seamus laughed some more, "Auch, well pardonez moi, yer royal fuppin' majesty!"
Finnegan gestured a bow, but Lancaster stopped him in his tracks.
"Barkeep,'' turning to address O'Leary, "you'd best get us a couple of pints here of Guinness before we end up trashing this fine establishment."
O'Leary, who had just been sitting quietly off in the corner, smirked and came forward to prepare the two pints of St. Jamess' Gate's finest.
"Auch I wondered when the two of ye would stop talkin' out yer arses and ordered a few pints, I have feckin bills to pay and this rain isn't helping a thing!"
Lancaster and Seamus laughed as the Duke extended his hand.
"O'Leary, how you keeping yourself, it's been far too long."
O'Leary shook his hand firmly and with warmth. "Aye 'tis been too fuppin' long, 'tis grand to see you as always Robert. How's the wee one keeping."
He began pulling the pints as Lancaster responded.
"I'm on my way to London to see him actually. He's gettin' old now...in a few years when Seamus and I are old buggers, there'll be NEW Tag Team Champions in our wee ones, cause we'll be off in the old folks home, surely!"
"Auch, speak fer yerself, laddy! I reckon I've still got a few years left in me!" Seamus winked at O'Leary.
O'Leary placed the pints in front of two gents...gents being used loosely, of course. Seamus downed the last of his first pint, and raised the second, along with Lancaster.
"So lad what will we toast," queried the Duke.
"Well, I've been drinkin' to my sister all night...let's drink to somethin' else fer a change, aye?"
Fair enough.
Ah. An obvious choice.
"To the next BWWa Champion. And to the current BWWa Tag Team Champions, and dare I say, the current BWWa Silver Dollar Champion? And most of all to the Triumvirate, and the Whiskey Devils...and yes lad, to yer sister too."
"Aye..." raising a glass "indeed."
The two men imbibed about half their pints in seconds. O'Leary stood in wide-eyed amazement as the two men put their glasses down.
"Oy..." O'Leary leaned forward. "Do ye two," gesturing at them both, "even have a liver left??"
"Auch, ye mean, between us, or individually?" Seamus said with a wink.
O'Leary frowned. "Shyte, must be a bad pint or something," as he walked off shaking his head.
The Duke grinned. "How do you put up with him? But better yet, a more important issue...where are ye going to hang yer Heavyweight Title? Carrington better have that belt nice and polished for you come Silver!"
"Auch, well as I promised my sister, if I win the title, first thing I'm gonna do is bring it back here so she can see it first hand...after that...[in a mock, sarcastic tone] I'M GOIN' TO FUPPIN' DISNEYLAND!!!"
"AHHH DISNEYLAND!! I LOVE DISNEYLAND!!" Freaking out in excitement was none other than O'Leary's bar hand assistant, Fergal, who just came in out of the rain. O'Leary turned.
"Fergal, what in blazes are ye doin' here!! I gave ye the night off!!"
"What? Did ye now? Oh, that's awfully kind o'ye, Paddy!" Fergal proceeded to wipe the tables with a cloth he pulled out of his pocket.
O'Leary looked on with an exasperated expression.
"Fergal...what in the blazes are ye doin'?"
"Ach, nothin' Paddy, just givin' the ol' tables a good wipe-down!"
"On yer night off?"
"It's my night off? Oh, brilliant! Why didn't ye say so, Paddy? Ye could've saved me an extra trip down here! God, I feel like a fuppin' eejit right now!"
The Duke leaned to whisper to Seamus. "Methinks he's had the 'night off' every night of his life."
Seamus stifled a laugh. "Auch, yer probably not far off, lad! Hell, even Von Deutchbagg's got more brains that he does, and Von Deutchbagg doesn't have that much intelligence...challengin' the Whiskey Devils to a match on behalf o'those other eejits!"
"Well, maybe we should thank them for being so fecking naive...thanks to him, we're at the top of our game once again. And with you having captured the BWWa Championship...me with my oh so lovely Silver Dollar Championship, and our Tag Team Championship...it's only a matter of time before Alternative 2.0 and Flare surrender their world titles to us, as well." The Duke caught a sadistic glint in Seamus' eye.
He may be going through hell with his sister...but he knew that he, himself, and Jeff, would continue to make the lives of those in the BWWa...even worse.
The Duke raised his pint of Guinness again.
"Whatcha think about that, laddy? Sound good?"
Seamus raised his glass, the glint of sadism still there.
"Feckin aye..."
Hell though, for Lancaster, was about to raise its fiery flames once more.
Reward?
The reward.
An opportunity to show the world, the entire Coalition of Affiliated Leagues, and especially the arrogant bastards of NPW, of which was epitomized by our foes for that evening - what the CAL, the BWWa, and what the Whiskey Devils were made of. And I knew we would.
I knew we would before the pay-per-view.
I knew we would.
But now - everyone knew.
The reward was there for the taking.
It did not come easily however. They matched us punch for punch, suplex for suplex. And my back paid the price, with that tumble towards the end of the match. I still feel its effects, compounded now with the effects of that goddamned car accident fiasco gone wrong with Leviathan, back in WWA.
It was a price well paid, this evening.
Seamus finished off Soylent Green with his usual flare and malice. I'm almost glad he did it on his own. I hope Carrington was watching well.
And I hope he enjoyed my selection of wine.
Grin.
I don't know what inspired me to destroy a bottle of wine worth almost half a thousand dollars, if not more, and waste it on a boor such as Carrington, but Top Dollar - erm, Mr. Hartwig - seemed to enjoy it. As did I.
And as did the Triumvirate as we feasted on the destroyed remnants of Carrington's wrecked frame, until those prissies from Larger than Life had to spoil our fun.
Regardless. Absolute Power was a grand evening.
Champions were forged and unified into one. One victory for NPW, one for the CAL in that department. That seemed democratic.
I made a new friend, as juvenile as that seems. Top Dollar was a young, energetic superstar. A bit of a louse when it comes to maturity, but still, I respected his achievements at such a young age.
I'm not that old am I?
Ahem. It was good to build relations and allies with someone in a sister federation in the CAL. Who knows. Maybe Mr. Hartwig can begin a new chapter of the Triumvirate in his fed?
Now that was an appealing prospect. I know I'm not the only one who's fucking tired of the CAL being a SeX focused company. Someday they will be crushed.
Someday.
For now though, I will concentrate on our reward.
And it was ours.
Now we would reap the fruits of our labour.
And I in particular would enjoy some time off to enjoy the greatest reward I could ask for: visiting my son.
Scene I: Sunday, May 23, 2004 - Pearson International Airport, Toronto, Ontario
I anticipated this trip with great eagerness.
The engines of the Lear began to rev as we were given clearance to depart from Toronto's Pearson International, only an hour or two after the conclusion of "Absolute Power."
Stephanie, my ex-wife - it still sounds odd saying that - agreed to my seeing Edward on the 24th of May.
Shitty luck that it had to be after the pay-per-view. My body wouldn't be able to handle the rigours of Eddy's boisterous nature now that he's growing up and running around like a little terror, nor my mind, to deal with her, if she's indeed there. But it'll be worth it.
She said she'd be out of the house when I visit. She'd better keep her word.
I'd not be the only one coming to see Edward.
"Ooooh babeee...I love what you've got here..." Marissah cooed with delight, much to my pleasure in reaction to my newly refitted Lear. The old girl was getting a bit old, so I had it redone, redecorated. A little bit of paint here, some marble there, a new Rolls Royce engine there...Home Depot was good to me.
"I'm glad you like it," I smiled, somewhat wearily. Even smiling hurt my poor bashed frame. "But I'm sure you'll enjoy the shopping in London even more."
I shouldn't have said that. The word alone could send the woman into orgasm. Which wasn't a bad thing.
Unless she had my credit card.
The Diner's Club must love her.
"To hell with shopping."
Pardon?
"I can't wait to meet your adoreable little sweetie...I bet he's even cuter than his Daddy."
She smacked me with the usual mix of deliberate pain and playfulness I had come to expect. But still.
OW.
"Why don't you just be a good girl and take a lithium or whatever and pass out, and let me sleep too, please?"
"Aww, my poor wimpy little bitch. Mind you I am excited about going to London, I haven't been in ages it seems."
The satellite phone in front of me began to ring. Why can't they leave me in peace! Whomever, they are, of course...
With a mixture of coarse language and adult situations, I answered the phone.
"Lancaster. Seamus, aye, what's with ya lad...calm down."
Marissah glared at me, wondering what the hell was going on. I patted the air with a stiff hand to shut her up.
"Oh shit." I closed my eyes and inhaled and exhaled deeply.
"You call me any time lad, ye hear me, it's no trouble, ye got that. Aye okay...God bless lad. Aye, later."
I closed my mobile and sighed heavily again.
"What the fuck's going on?? Robert?? London?"
"LONDON CAN WAIT."
Her eyes narrowed in horror at my tone of voice. I bit my lip and cursed under my breath, turning my head away from her. I collected myself and looked back at her, as she sat, confused even more so than before.
"London can wait."
Scene II: Tuesday, May 25, 2004 - O'Leary's Pub, Belfast, Northern Ireland
All was quiet in O'Leary's Pub, oddly enough.
Frank Wanker was nowhere to be seen. Fergal was given the night off. The weather was a bit inclement, so only the most loyal of patrons were present that evening. Including Seamus Finnegan.
O'Leary himself, patron and namesake of the bar he's run for the past few decades, the man whose seen a thousand broken men come and go from this bar saw a very broken man in front of him. He had been staring into the bottom of a singular pint of Guinness for the past hour and a half. And anyone who knew Seamus Finnegan - and O'Leary knew him like a father almost - knew all was not well.
O'Leary just stood silently, near his friend, not wanting to pry, not wanting to provoke Seamus into opening up. He just sat there, drying glasses, watching. Seamus' Guinness was all the company he wanted at that moment, and he dared not interrupt Seamus' deep silence.
Seamus' mobile rang.
It rang again. He pulled it out of his pocket, reluctant to answer.
What if...
What if.
Finally he gave in. "Aye, aye, what is it..." He answered with great tension and nervousness.
A huge sigh of relief passed over him. It was the Duke of Wessex.
"Auch, it's ye...hold on lad." Seamus took a generous helping of Guinness. "Aye, that's better."
"Aye I'm doing okay...as well as can be expected really."
"Auch I'm sittin here in O'Leary's right now...order another pint, aye, that's nay a bad idea really."
"Make sure that's the best pulled pint in Belfast, while you're at it."
The Duke closed his mobile as he entered O'Leary's, soaked in the downpour of rain, but still cheerful nonetheless.
Seamus' eyes lit up at the sight of his tag team partner and close friend entering the bar; an unexpected surprise to say the very least, seeing as he expected Lancaster to be in London with his son.
"Auch, laddy! What brings ye 'round these parts?"
The Duke shook off the rain from his hair and removed his trench coat, tossing it on a bar stool. He smiled and put his hand on Seamus' back, with a glint of sarcasm in his eye
"Whatcha think, ya eejit." Lancaster smiled warmly.
Seamus returned the smile. "Aye, it's good of ye to come, lad. It's been a rough few days, let me tell ye."
Lancaster nodded sympathetically. "I know lad, I know...I can only imagine. How's yer sister and mother doing." Lancaster sat down next to Seamus, and turned towards him.
"No change, unfortunately." He took a sip from his Guinness. "She's still in a coma...my mum's havin' a right rough time of it, but she's a tower o'strength, that one is...Donal might be flyin' out here soon, he's takin' the news rather hard as well."
The Duke sat silently, seeing the pained expression on Seamus' face. Both men were not deeply emotional around the other, and the Duke did not want to dwell on bad news.
"Well lad...if there's anything I can do for you and your family...anything...I don't know what I could offer frankly...but whatever it is, you've got it." Lancaster forced an encouraging smile, which did not come easy.
"Auch, yer a good lad...not much anyone can do right now, to be honest wi'ye...not until she wakes up, an'we know what kind o'state her mind's in...she will wake up, though. I've nay lost hope in that, and I'm holdin' on to that right now...she's been through a hell of a lot, she'll get through this too." He nodded. "She's got to."
Lancaster had given up his faith over a year ago. But at times like this...
"She will lad. She will."
The mood had to change.
"Yer drink is looking a bit low there, lad...how about another one, on me, this time."
Robert pulled out his wallet, and waved it about dramatically. "I remembered it this time, unlike the last time, when you had to pick up that, what, hundred pound tab we had at that bar? I still can't believe I forgot it."
Lancaster of course hadn't forgotten a bloody thing last time he and Seamus went drinking, but he of course feigned forgetfulness.
Seamus laughed, "Aye, ye bloody cheapskate! An' yer royalty an'all!"
Lancaster continued the ruse of innocence with much glee.
"Now come on lad, you know I'm what, SEVENTIETH or something in line to the throne? You'd better be nice, cause if something happens to those other sixty nine folks, you'll be calling me Your Majesty!"
Seamus laughed some more, "Auch, well pardonez moi, yer royal fuppin' majesty!"
Finnegan gestured a bow, but Lancaster stopped him in his tracks.
"Barkeep,'' turning to address O'Leary, "you'd best get us a couple of pints here of Guinness before we end up trashing this fine establishment."
O'Leary, who had just been sitting quietly off in the corner, smirked and came forward to prepare the two pints of St. Jamess' Gate's finest.
"Auch I wondered when the two of ye would stop talkin' out yer arses and ordered a few pints, I have feckin bills to pay and this rain isn't helping a thing!"
Lancaster and Seamus laughed as the Duke extended his hand.
"O'Leary, how you keeping yourself, it's been far too long."
O'Leary shook his hand firmly and with warmth. "Aye 'tis been too fuppin' long, 'tis grand to see you as always Robert. How's the wee one keeping."
He began pulling the pints as Lancaster responded.
"I'm on my way to London to see him actually. He's gettin' old now...in a few years when Seamus and I are old buggers, there'll be NEW Tag Team Champions in our wee ones, cause we'll be off in the old folks home, surely!"
"Auch, speak fer yerself, laddy! I reckon I've still got a few years left in me!" Seamus winked at O'Leary.
O'Leary placed the pints in front of two gents...gents being used loosely, of course. Seamus downed the last of his first pint, and raised the second, along with Lancaster.
"So lad what will we toast," queried the Duke.
"Well, I've been drinkin' to my sister all night...let's drink to somethin' else fer a change, aye?"
Fair enough.
Ah. An obvious choice.
"To the next BWWa Champion. And to the current BWWa Tag Team Champions, and dare I say, the current BWWa Silver Dollar Champion? And most of all to the Triumvirate, and the Whiskey Devils...and yes lad, to yer sister too."
"Aye..." raising a glass "indeed."
The two men imbibed about half their pints in seconds. O'Leary stood in wide-eyed amazement as the two men put their glasses down.
"Oy..." O'Leary leaned forward. "Do ye two," gesturing at them both, "even have a liver left??"
"Auch, ye mean, between us, or individually?" Seamus said with a wink.
O'Leary frowned. "Shyte, must be a bad pint or something," as he walked off shaking his head.
The Duke grinned. "How do you put up with him? But better yet, a more important issue...where are ye going to hang yer Heavyweight Title? Carrington better have that belt nice and polished for you come Silver!"
"Auch, well as I promised my sister, if I win the title, first thing I'm gonna do is bring it back here so she can see it first hand...after that...[in a mock, sarcastic tone] I'M GOIN' TO FUPPIN' DISNEYLAND!!!"
"AHHH DISNEYLAND!! I LOVE DISNEYLAND!!" Freaking out in excitement was none other than O'Leary's bar hand assistant, Fergal, who just came in out of the rain. O'Leary turned.
"Fergal, what in blazes are ye doin' here!! I gave ye the night off!!"
"What? Did ye now? Oh, that's awfully kind o'ye, Paddy!" Fergal proceeded to wipe the tables with a cloth he pulled out of his pocket.
O'Leary looked on with an exasperated expression.
"Fergal...what in the blazes are ye doin'?"
"Ach, nothin' Paddy, just givin' the ol' tables a good wipe-down!"
"On yer night off?"
"It's my night off? Oh, brilliant! Why didn't ye say so, Paddy? Ye could've saved me an extra trip down here! God, I feel like a fuppin' eejit right now!"
The Duke leaned to whisper to Seamus. "Methinks he's had the 'night off' every night of his life."
Seamus stifled a laugh. "Auch, yer probably not far off, lad! Hell, even Von Deutchbagg's got more brains that he does, and Von Deutchbagg doesn't have that much intelligence...challengin' the Whiskey Devils to a match on behalf o'those other eejits!"
"Well, maybe we should thank them for being so fecking naive...thanks to him, we're at the top of our game once again. And with you having captured the BWWa Championship...me with my oh so lovely Silver Dollar Championship, and our Tag Team Championship...it's only a matter of time before Alternative 2.0 and Flare surrender their world titles to us, as well." The Duke caught a sadistic glint in Seamus' eye.
He may be going through hell with his sister...but he knew that he, himself, and Jeff, would continue to make the lives of those in the BWWa...even worse.
The Duke raised his pint of Guinness again.
"Whatcha think about that, laddy? Sound good?"
Seamus raised his glass, the glint of sadism still there.
"Feckin aye..."
Hell though, for Lancaster, was about to raise its fiery flames once more.
Reward?