'Tis the season! I thought since it was St. Patrick's Day, I'd whip up a fun number involving Sheamus and Wade, with a slight mention of Drew. Hope you guys enjoy!
"Oi, whatta fight. Damn O'Neil bloodied me damn fist.." Sheamus chuckled softly, staring at his bruised white fist. He loved to fight, and tonight on RAW, he really got to work his Irish Charm. He had a score to settle with Titus, and the way Titus was laid out after that St. Patrick's Day Street Fight, Fella was a happy man. He studied his hand once more, as he watched two huge boots block his view. He looked up carefully, as he stood up, locking eyes with the brawny gentleman.
"I've got some bad news, you old brute!"
Sheamus laughed softly at Wade's words, putting Barrett into a playful headlock, driving his head into the dirty pile of towels that were near by. Wade babbled angrily, attempting to push his playful best friend off of him. Wade shook Sheamus off, before throwing an old pair of dockers at him, chuckling. "Don't know when to quit, aye? Drew and I have been waiting all night for you to make your way to the bar. What are you doing still sitting here, Fella? Lost yer marbles as usual, huh? You Irish folk are a confusing breed, I tell ya!"
Sheamus laughed heartily at Wade's lecturing, not understanding what point exactly the older gent was attempting to make. But as always, Wade was the parent out of the friends, forever fretting about their whereabouts. Sheamus stood up, stretching his worn back as he sighed at Wade's overbearing behavior. "Listen, Wadeykins. I know yer a big movie star now, but Stephen takes his time with whatever he's doing, got it, mum?" Wade scowled as Sheamus laughed, wondering what ever could have crossed the Brit's mind with becoming friends with an irresponsible Irishman.
He threw a vest and slacks at Sheamus, shaking his head in disappointment as Sheamus studied the clothing. "If you don't mind, put this on so we can finally get the hell out of this dump of a city. It is St. Patrick's day, you know, Farrelly. Its time to get you drunk and belligerent, falling all about over the place. Not like you're not used to that, but hey, we're willing to have a bit of fun with ya. Maybe we can get some hundred year old bag to give you a bit of a good time, don't ya think?" Wade laughed scornfully at his own joke, before turning down the hall, tossing his hand up at Sheamus. "See you in the car, old friend. Be out there in no less than thirty minutes, or you'll be left in this hellhole known as San Antonio!"
As Wade walked off, Sheamus noticed him rolling a piece of luggage down the hall. Strangely, he didn't recall seeing him with anything when he approached him, but Sheamus shrugged it off, for it was probably his imagination messing with him. Sheamus sighed happily, excited to be headed out for the night after such a grueling day. After a quick shower, and a quick shampooing, he made his way into the locker room. He heard chuckling, but he assumed it was what the guys always chuckled about, his deep white skin that could never tan. But the laughter seemed different tonight, and it caused Sheamus to walk carefully towards his locker, fearing the worst.
As he lifted the vest and pants Wade gave to him, he noticed an incredible difference from his normal wear. His white face reddened in anger as the entire lockeroom died of laughter from Wade's prank.
This wasn't just any vest and pants combo, this was ass-less green chaps with a vest that Hornswoggle couldn't even fit! Sheamus stormed out of the lockeroom, making it his mission to deliver a Brogue Kick to both of his "mates" before the night started.