.||. Nigel McGuinness ; UK's Best .||.

Scene 1:: No more Honor here
Location :: Ring of Honor Arena
Status :: ON Camera

Chris Jericho: “Jesus, Willy! Look at him go…” Chris mumbled, more to himself than to Regal. He just couldn’t take his eyes off of the ring…none of them could. They all just watched the carnage that spewed out from the ring, now onto the arena floor.

The Ring of Honor fans erupted as Nigel went in for the kill, aiming a suicide dive and another wicked Lariat onto Samoa Joe. The Ring of Honor flags seemed to wave proudly from the drunken college fans as they raised there beers and cheered. Jericho sort of hung his head low, feeling out of place here.

William, on the other hand, looked pleased. This was just what he wanted, a chance for the world to get a look at this discovery.

Kneeling for a moment, Nigel looked down into the stunned face of Samoa Joe. The ROH fans were just working themselves into another “Joe’s Gonna’ Kill You” chant just before the lariat ended that dream…..now they seemed a little worried. Jericho couldn’t help but smirk at the evil gleam behind McGuinness’s eyes as he took a handful of neck fat and pulled Joe back up to his feet; throwing his skull into the ring apron for good measure before rolling him back into the ring.

William Regal: “See! What did I tell you? The lad is a natural born killer! Just look at him rip that islander apart. That is what better breeding is all about. This boy shows just how pathetic and dim witted these American blokes have…” but Regal was cut off by Chris, who only raised a hand to shut him up.

Chris Jericho: “Yeah, yeah; the Britt is good. I’ll give ya that. He’s a real tough lookin’ son of a bitch….but can he get over, that is the question. If Chris Jericho is going to put his name behind something it needs to be guaranteed to go places. Dig it, junior?” Y2J laughed, still watching the match. He flinched away as Nigel connected with a snap suplex. Nigel was a sharp one, but then again, he wouldn’t be respected in Ring of Honor if he wasn’t.

It was a matter of moments when Nigel choose to ascend the ropes. He was like a shark that smelt blood….before anyone was aware he was up, he took flight; the diving head butt send a chill through Jericho. He had seen it executed so perfectly only one other time….ages ago it seemed, but he shook his head and kept watching.

“What’s the matter, mate?” William asked, but Chris said nothing. He just kept watching the match. Nigel was proving himself to be a real killer. He was seeing red when he jerked Joe up to his knees Left…right…left…right, Nigel landed the jabs. Vicious and blood hungry, this Britt knew no limits. He was out to prove a point tonight.

The ref tapped his shoulder and shouted for him to watch the jabs, but Nigel paid no mind, he knew who Regal was bringing to the show tonight. He knew what was on the line, and most of all, he knew he had to make his mark known.

Heeding the five count, McGuinness snatched Joe up in a stiff side headlock, looking to break his spirit more than his drive.

The ring lights shined brightly, accenting the aching muscles in Nigel’s body as he strangled the life from Joe’s throat, his sleeper applied perfectly. It was only a matter of time now…

A bit of blood spat out over Samoa Joe’s bottom lip. This brought a devilish smirk to Nigel’s face as he arched himself to apply pressure. The light started to fade from the husky fellow’s face. Nigel was just too much of an animal for him to deal with tonight.

The ROH fans all booed like a couple of distempered children, throwing there trash into the ring. They didn’t want it to end like this. Nigel was leaving them, it had leaked over the internet months ago when his contract started to end….hell, the scouts might even be in the crowed as they watched. A few McGuinness faithful snapped a few pictures, but for the most part, this would be a bitter sweet win for the UK Killer.

The ref raised Joe’s hand…..down it went. 1.…another strand of spit and blood surface from his mouth, gushing down onto Nigel’s forearm. 2.…his eyes rolled back into his head. This was it. It was over. Nigel was going to walk away from this place of ‘professional wrestlers’ with his head held high. Unlike CM Punk, his reputation would remain untarnished. 3.…the bell sounded.

Anarchy in the UK blared out over the PA system, announcing Nigel’s victory to the punks stuck in the nose bleeds. ‘So he’s a punk’ is all Jericho could manage to think as he applauded this vicious victory. It wasn’t too flashy, but none the less, it had gotten the job done.

Regal looked rather content with himself as he sat back down in his chair. He knew his investment was sound.

William Regal: So…what do ya think, then? Spot on, isn’t he? A bit rough around the edges, I’ll admit. He might even be lacking in the manners department, but I could help him with that.

Jericho just scratched his chin and fallowed Nigel with his eyes, watching as he leaned over the guardrail where a few drunken blokes draped the English flag around his neck and handed him a beer. William was right, he wasn’t clean cut. His spiky blond hair, scruffy chin and pissed off expression….reminded him of himself. Y2J laughed at that thought.

Chris Jericho: “Look, It’s like I said, the kid is good. I personally can appreciate his ‘fuck you’ life style. But I’m just not sure the big bosses are going to like him. Nigel…well, isn’t really the most professional of men.” he said, cringing a bit at the end.

William Regal: “But I’d work with him on that. I promise you. I know you got friends up in the high office in WWC, all I want is just one shot with him. A chance for those bastards in corporate to see what you seen tonight. A true British icon. Lord knows we need one after poor Davey Boy….then there was that Pirate nonsense with Burchill. I’m just saying, my people need someone to believe in, and Nigel is that man” Regal insisted

Y2J nods

Chris Jericho: “I can see that….I’ll tell ya what, you help keep this behemoth inline, and I’ll get him a shot. What can I say? I like the guy. Consider it my charity case of the month. Just remember, Willy….you’ll owe me one for this.” Chris warned, his words a bit harsh.

Regal nodded excitedly as he shook Jericho’s hand.

William Regal: “Excellently! Excellent! You will not regret this, I assure you. And as for this favor…any time, anyplace.” the excitement obvious in his voice.

Jericho smirked as he patted William on the shoulder. Chris quickly made his way out before the crowed of fans noticed him. He did this as a favor to a friend, not to cause controversy. He was WWC, no need to get Ring of Honor’s hopes up.

With Chris gone, William looked on from the mouth of the angry lions….proud that Nigel would be out of this and onto better things.

The scene fades to black….

Scene 2:: Sentiments
Location :: ROH locker room
Status :: OFF Camera

The locker room was a different matter all together. The sound of a pleased crowed faded out behind him as Nigel made his way past the entrance curtains and back into the main hall. Right away he could feel them, the eyes of his peers. Bryan Danielson scoffed to himself at the concession stand…..Delirious said something, but no one really understood what it was. Even a few of the camera men and production crew were giving him the eye. Nigel didn’t seem bothered in the least by this. It didn’t matter anymore. This chapter was over.

Onward he strolled, his shoulders set and his eyes still had a hint of murderous intent behind them. McGuinness was a monster more than man…they could all see it. His arms were stained in the blood of a good, hardworking man. A guy all these people respected. The red that coated Nigel’s arms were a reflection of what he had just done, ripped out the heart of Ring of Honor. Well, as close to it as he could. But getting hold of CM Punk would have to happen another day….after he signs that WWC contract.

Noticing the lingering eyes, Nigel felt he would rub some salt in the professional wounds, leaning down he licks a bit of Samoa Joe’s blood off of his arm, looking back up towards the ROH staff with a evil grin. Message sent……

Nigel stopped just outside a door that held his initials….it would be the last time he would have to look at it. Without another thought, Nigel shoves his way trough the door and into the room. It was empty….he knew he would beat William back, but still, it didn’t feel right. Not like the locker room of a victorious superstar. It was lacking something, but Nigel just couldn’t put his finger on it.

Oh well.

His gym bag sat just where he left it, on the sofa in front of the television monitor. The room was too small to lose anything in. Ring of Honor might have been known for their superior talents, but bar none, they couldn’t hold a candle to McMahon accommodations. But in some small way, he would miss this. The feeling of being in the slums and cracks of professional wrestling. Watching the young, the hungry and the driven sculpt themselves into killers, in hopes of breaking through in this business. It was so much to take in, but for a moment, Nigel closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Letting the rush and sensations fill him before exhaling.

He would have to stay focused if this dream of being a wrestler was going to continue after this night. After a second or so, McGuinness stands over his gym bag, pulling out a clean towel as he wipes off what blood still remained of his arm. He just tossed the bloody rag into the corner.

Just then the locker room door opened and in came the tycoon, William Regal. A greedy grin plastered over his face as he approaches his investment. His eyes were bright with hope, in fact, he might even be seeing dollar signs. He couldn’t be sure.

Walking up to Nigel, he lays his hand on the brute’s shoulder. Nigel just shrugged it off….

Nigel McGuinness:: “Oi! Take you and your friend liked the match, then?” a bit of sharpness could be felt through his words.

William tucked his hand back into his jacket pocket.

William Regal: “Oh yes, bloody good fight my boy, bloody good. Really won them over….and a few others, I must confess.” his attempt at flattery didn’t seem to budge Nigel the least.

The UK Killer looks up from his gym bag.

Nigel McGuinness:: “Really? That’s wonderful. I aim to please you royal types. So how about you jus’ stop flappin’ your gob and you tell me like it is. You think I got the deal or not?” he almost shouted, that murderous expression in his eyes once again.

William swallowed hard.

William Regal: “Well, from the way it sounded, it seemed very promising” he mumbled.

Nigel McGuinness:: “Promising…..fuckin’ great. I rupture a nerve on old Joe and all it gets me is a maybe? What good does that do me, eh? A whole lot of nothing’, that’s what! Jus’ a waste of my time….figures.” he looked more annoyed than anything ells as he turned to face William.

William Regal: “Now just hold on one second, chap! I told you I’d get you a scouting, and I did. Now believe me when I say that they were impressed with you. The way the world is going to be impressed with you. Most of all, the way that I am impressed with you. Nigel McGuinness, you are the future of this great sport. The sport I’ve dedicated my life to! Now, that is something I hold above all ells. You best start showing some faith in me. Now, like I said….it’s promising” William insisted, the authority returning to his voice. “They just want to…smooth out a few of your rough spots….” now that did.

In a matter of seconds Nigel had lost it. William, before he knew it, had been snatched up by the front of his suit and viciously slammed against the locker room door! The wood splintered a little beneath his weight. Nigel looked blood hungry….murderous. This was that Rabid side that had sent chills through Jericho. His rage was so familiar.

McGuinness shivered with rage as he shouted into the face of William Regal.

Nigel McGuinness:: “Now you listen to me, mate! Do I look like a faggot pirate to you? No……do I look like a bulldog to you? Again….no. Do I need some catchphrase like ‘You Can’t See Me’ or ‘Time to play the game’? You better wake the fuck up! I am Nigel McGuinness and I’m not here to make things more ‘entertaining’. I’ll leave that to those sorry Sports Entertainers. I’m a wrestling and nothing besides. Which means, simply put, I like to hurt people, Willy. A lot. You say this sport means something to you? Well it does for me as well. It fuels me, makes me want to kill myself for it. Makes me want to kill others for it. But the problem is…..things have gone soft around here.” His voice faintly turned depressed as he lowered William back down to his feet. He unballed his fists from the fabric of the suit as he now walks back and forth between the walls of the cramped locker room.

Nigel McGuinness:: “It’s bullocks, I tell you! Bullocks! They want to keep me out…they want to make me conform! Well I say to bloody hell with that! Like it or not, I’m goin’ to Dubya’Dubya’Cee! I’m goin’ to take what is rightfully mine! And anyone who wants to say otherwise is just a fuckin casualty! Get me?” he stopped and looked William in the eyes, but Regal didn’t say anything. What could he say? Nigel wanted war….and that was the opposite of what he was asked to do.

William Regal: “Don’t you think you are blowing this all out of proportion?” he was almost pleading again.

Nigel ignored him as he snatched his gym bag up and stormed out of the room...in the direction of another fight, no doubt. William sighed to himself. Looking in the direction McGuinness had went.

William Regal: “Oh yes, I’d gladly keep this one in line” he mocked himself.

The Scene fades to black.