Post by Oi! Rooney on Dec 31, 2012 0:47:49 GMT -4
[Sunday, December 30, 2012]
[The Castle Pub]
[Nottingham, England]
[04:15 pm]
[The Castle Pub]
[Nottingham, England]
[04:15 pm]
Few gents are are scattered across the bar on this Sunday evening, a quiet day to cap off an event quieter week. The holiday season so much to so many but for the Midlands, it is a time where tourism is at a lull and establishments such as "The Castle Pub" are left with nothing but local patrons. None of this bothers Oi! Rooney as he enjoys the rare calm atmosphere of his favorite pub.
Rooney: Where in the bloody hell are you Nigel?
Rooney lets out an impatient sigh as he checks the time on his phone; a quick scroll of his text messages reveals nothing new. He tosses down his phone and picks up his mug. Rooney sits alone, in the corner of the pub. The corner is dark he prefers to be as far as from the door as possible. At the same time, he prefers to keep his back to the wall and eyes on the front. Whether it be paranoia or simply a passive desire to 'people watch', Oi! Rooney must always be aware of who is around him.
After a swig of dark ale, Rooney looks up at the television closest to his seat.
Rooney: Hey Tic, you think the Foresters will pull it out against Rovers next match?
The Barkeep is wiping down the close corner of his bar when he looks up at the television. He catches the trail-end of the Nottingham Forest F.C. commercial Rooney is referencing.
Tic: Sure, the lads in red have been great this season. Need to keep fighting for our way into the top six of the table.
It is at this moment a long-haired, grungy character bursts through the front door and suddenly the quaintness of the pub is gone...
Grungy-Dude: Ole!
The Barkeep immediately smirks, drops his rag, and pulls down a mug from the rack that is suspended above the bar-top center.
Grungy-Dude: Tic me lad, a mug of your finest!
Tic goes for the tap as the newcomer marches across the room and towards Rooney's table.
Tic: Coming right up Nigel.
Rooney rises to his feet and steps out, in front of his table. Tic unwraps the scarf from his neck as very lazily slings it over an array of hooks which line the right-side wall of the pub. He approaches Rooney and the two immediately embrace.
Nigel: Come here you bare-knuckle fightin' bastard!
As the two friends hug, Rooney ushers a few hard slaps across Nigel's back.
Nigel: Hey...careful now, you'll break me spine
Rooney: You're late as usual you mutt.
Nigel: You know Charlene wouldn't let me leave until all my chores were done.
Both Rooney and Nigel seat themselves.
Rooney: Yeah, yeah...it took you all afternoon to clean up after yourself so now what did you want to tell me that was so important?
At this moment, Tic steps up and slams a mug of ale down. He slides it across the table and toward Nigel.
Nigel: Ah, you're the best Ticky.
Tic exchanges a friendly nod and then turns back toward his post behind the bar. Nigel takes a nice, long swig from his glass and then slaps it back down.
Nigel: Ahh...
Rooney: Well?
Nigel: Okay, are you familiar with APW?
Rooney glances up at the ceiling, thinking to himself for moment.
Rooney: You mean 'Action Packed'...that yankee federation?
Nigel: Yes, that's the one.
Rooney: They're putting on a big show in London this upcoming month...?
Nigel: Correct.
Rooney: What does it have to do with me?
Nigel: Well I know you've been taking this slow since the surgery and all but they have a huge battle they call: "Survive And Conquer".
Oi! is swigging from his mug when he hears this comment. He abruptly freezes still. Slowly, his mug is placed back on the table top. It's almost as if he predicted where the conversation was going.
Rooney: Look Nigel...
Nigel: No, you look mate! You could really win this, you know...
Rooney throws his head back and rolls his eyes towards the ceiling. These exact thoughts have crossed his mind in recent weeks but so has the reality of his situation. Just coming off major knee injury, a 100-man battle royal-style brawl is not within his best interests but still, there's that competitive nature inside him...something that screams: "You must do this!" Oi! Rooney is a man who really has nothing to prove to the World of Pro Wrestling or it's fans but he feels like he's still got so much to prove to himself.
Still only 26 years old, Oi! is too young to let a meniscus tear set back what was a promising career but still, there's a doubt that lingers, a voice inside his head that is telling him to hold off...
[To Be Continued]
