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Victory Celebration; RP#2
Topic Started: Jun 6 2008, 05:07 AM (209 Views)
Hooligan
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Brock and Hooligan were on their way out of the Pittsburgh arena. The Detroit Red Wings had just won the Stanley Cup and after the ceremonies on the ice, Brock and Hooligan both got their chances to take their pictures next to it.

But now, it’s was time to find an after party somewhere. The Red Wing’s coach told them that their hotel for the night had a room set aside for them for an after party. The players push themselves to exhaustion, and finally it was time to eat, and time to relax, because now, they were champions. One day, Brock and Hooligan both will follow them and obtain their own championships at the sVo.

Once they got to the hotel, they ran into a few Penguins fans at the front door. One of them must have been an sVo wrestling fan as well, since they recognized Brock, and even pointed out Hooligan without his mask even. More than likely he never seen the GLCW, but he must of found pictures of him on the Internet without him wearing it.

“Hey Hooligan, you suck! Travis Williams is going to show you pain next week that would make you wish he would knock you out.”

Hooligan turned to the guy and stayed quiet at first, “Travis Williams is nothing but a nutcase. He’s nothing more than a mentally disturbed freak!”

Brock put his hand on Hooligan’s shoulder and tried to pull him away before he started any trouble. Before they could head inside though, the kid started running at him as a response to his favorite wrestler being ripped on. Hooligan just watched him and waited, and then just as he got close, he spun around and punched the kid in the face. The kid fell backwards landing on his back and then sat up staring up at Hooligan.

Hooligan then stood over him, “Kid, grow up. Sure, Travis Williams has his sick taste for pain. Sure he can go berserk and go nuts like I did in the GLCW. But a champion does not come from the pure all out rage. A champion comes from the skill of the fighter. Look up a guy named Pat Fullam for me, the guy was a giant, but he had skill in behind it. No matter how hard I raged, no matter how hard I hit, and even though I was capable of burying weights into a cinderblock wall, he still managed best me in the ring.”

Brock stood behind Hooligan while he continued to his speech. Brock even smiled when he heard Pat Fullam being brought up.

“No matter how hard I tried to beat this guy, I managed to be friends with him. I even trained with the guy trying to improve myself. Thanks to him, and thanks to Brock, and all the other fighters I fought alongside with, I managed to obtain a grand championship belt. So, before you go trying to back a man with nothing more than lunacy and rage to back him up, I suggest you think about what that guy has accomplished. Travis Williams is doing nothing more than hiding behind his own mental illness. He relies on it as a weapon. The only person, who does that, is one who lacks the skill and the talent to fight on their own. Before you even say it, yes, I use to fight that way. But now I’ve learned to actually fight, and fight very well. I cured my mental illness to put it out of the way. Don’t worry. The Hooligan rage is not gone completely. Oh no, I kept that around for when I need it. Once you fully piss me off, once I begin to feel the pain, it will come back out. Once that happens, Travis Williams better watch out, because I will put him down in a heartbeat. Because I know how to use it with skill.”

The kid continued to look up at Hooligan, “Yeah well, you still suck.”

“I don’t got time to argue with you kid. You’re being an idiot. Your team lost the Stanley Cup, and now your wrestler is going to lose his match. You really seem to know how to pick them don’t you? I suggest finding a better role model and learning to grow up kid.”

Finally the kid decided it was best to give up now. He pulled himself up and walked away, then turned around a little ways away and flipped Hooligan off. Hooligan jumped and started to run after him, but then stopped. Seeing this, the kid turned as fast as he could and high tailed it out of there. Hooligan then turned around and went back up to the door where Brock was.

Brock then commented as he approached, “Well, I don’t think he’ll be your fan or a Red Wings fan any time soon.”

“I doubt he was really a true fan. He’s more than likely one of those guys who cheer for a guy just because he looks and acts cool. The best fans, those are the fans that like you because they like your skill, your talent, and know you can pull off a good fight. I mean, look at the Red Wings, they have won the cup eleven times and have the talent time after time after time to pull it off. If I just liked them because I was from the state, I wouldn’t just be a big Red Wings fan, I’d also be a fan of the Pistons, the Lions, and the Tigers as well.”

“I don’t know man, I just always say fans are fans. I don’t care why they like me. As long as they like me.”

“Yes, but a fan should like you because of what you can do, not because of your image. Now if you please, there’s a drink calling me inside and several guys I’d like to congratulate.”

Hooligan and Brock then headed inside. They made their way off to one of the larger conference rooms where a huge party was being hosted. Half the room was set up with a dance floor. The other half was setup with an open bar, a buffet table, and several tables. Hooligan made his first stop at the open bar for a Smirnoff and then made his way to the buffet table to set himself up with a plate of food. He then went to a table filled with a bunch of players, who saved a couple seats for him and Brock especially. All the guys were psyched and excited even though they were tired as all get out.

Zetterberg spoke out, “Hey Hooligan, now that we got the Stanley Cup this week, you got to meet your end of the deal now and beat Travis William this week! Give him hell man! Give him hell!”

All the guys cheered and banged their glasses together as if it were a big toast. In the background The Grinders were playing on stage as Darren McCarty celebrated in the one way he knows how, by give one hell of a performance on the stage.
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