Post by "Insane" Shane Whelan on Jun 28, 2009 22:56:53 GMT -5
"Insane" Shane Whelan is doing some summer cleaning in the master bedroom at his new, luxurious two-story estate in Rumsen, NJ. He slides across his recently glossed and shined wooden floor in his socks while his stereo blasts Bob Seger's classic song, "Old Time Rock and Roll." The scene is almost an exact mimic of Tom Cruise's classic bread-winning scene from the movie "Risky Business." Whelan is wearing only his guinea tee and a pair of boxers decorated with four-leaf clovers. After a wicked air guitar solo, the camera focuses in on Whelan flopping across his bed like a fish. There's nothing like a professional athlete that knows how to entertain.
Woooo! That's what I'm talking about!
As the song finishes, Whelan sits up on his bed and wipes some sweat off his forehead before he rests his hands on his knees and catches his breath. The camera catches a few portraits on his white wall. One portrait shows a scene of him pinning Bryan Danielson to win the Saturday Night's Main Event Custom Championship. The other portrait on the right side of his bed focues on a beautiful woman sunbathing in the distance on a beach during sunfall. The beach is most likely his hometown of Wildwood Crest.
Suddenly, the phone on the dresser by Whelan's bed begins to ring. The camera focuses on a digital clock on his dresser also which reads "3:07 AM." Confused as to who would be calling him at such an early hour, Whelan hesitates before he presses the speaker button.
A strange, deep voice begins to pitch an idea to Shane as to how he can improve his life-style. Whelan listens but does not understand the point of the call nor does he know the caller's voice. The voice sounds muffled as if the caller is trying to disguise his/her identity.
Wait, wait, slow down, what are you talking about? My life-style? Listen here...
Whelan tries to talk to the caller but he is cut off as the caller reveals himself to be a stalker and notices how Whelan likes to take shortcuts.
VOICE: Shane, I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm looking to help. I know you're having trouble and with your recent loss to Justin Tyger, I'm concerned.
Whoa, whoa, wait! Please, let me talk. I don't know who you are but I'm going to have this call traced...
VOICE: Do not bother, I'm using a secure line. I have special connections that ensure my safety from a vicious man like yourself. I just want to talk some sense into you before your match at The Bash against Tyger and Roy.
If this is you Roy, I want to let you know that I will have you arrested for harassment! Same to you, Tyger! Same to everyone!
Whelan stands up and disconnects the phone from the wall. His face is red with anger and he begins to breath heavily. If anyone was to see Whelan now, they should know that he has reached a breaking point in his conscious. The line that normally separates a rational man from an insane man has been stretched thin for Whelan as he is going through one of his many personality transformations. It will only be a matter of time before he punches a whole through his newly spackled and painted wall.
What in the hell was that all about?!
Then it happens, a grin appears on his face as he starts to head towards a mirror placed in the corner of the room. It is yet to be hung. The camera focuses in on the mirror from the floor, revealing most of Whelan's body in the glass. Stage one of insanity.
I do not take shortcuts. So, I don't want to show up for a match? I won't. I'll do what I want when I want because I deserve to. I am the best there is to ever walk into a WWE ring and I've never been given a fair shot at the World Title. An outrage, I believe that's what they call it.
Stage two.
And so I like to use chairs? Tyger and Roy better bring their own blood at The Bash because they're gonna need to spill something when I crack their skulls in. They should just ask Matt Sydal about what happens when I hit someone with a chair. Oh and I'm sure people aren't gonna like that. I suppose people aren't gonna appreciate me hitting them with a chair. Well they can all rot in hell because I'm sure they'd laugh watching me get hit with one!
And I'm going to hurt them over and over. And if the referee gets in my way I'm going to hurt him too! This match, this match...THIS MATCH...it should be no disqualification!
Whelan laughs a little under each heavy breath he takes. Stage three. The final stage.
What? What? YOU DON'T LIKE WHAT I'M SAYING! LOOK AT ME! That's right, stay focused on my eyes. They scare you? They better scare you because if you don't have a reason to run away in fear, you're going to fall victim to me and my little friend, me and my steel chair!
Whelan leaps over his bed and kicks through a pile of shirts and shorts laying across the floor. He slams open his closet door and pulls out a metal, blue folding chair. As he raises it to the ceiling, he cries maniacally.
This...IS...WHAT...I'm...GOING...TO...USE...TO WIN! And nobody can stop me. Tyger, the only reason I didn't show up to our first booked match is because I didn't want to waste a chair on you. I'll bend steel for someone worthy of defeating. You're just a "has been" that will "never be again." And you can go take that little fire in your soul and throw a bucket of water over it because it's about time I put out that stupid little gimmick candle.
And Roy, your name is so stupid! I can't take it, that's why you're not going to win! You have a stupid name. The Roy! How silly!
Shane laughs hysterically but calms down and throws the chair onto the bed.
Nah, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I just like screwing with you. You're fun to fight and you're going to put up one, not like that Justin Hello Kitty Kat. So what do you say you and me just tell Steph to leave him out of the match so it's just you and me? We'll get better ratings because people are going to want to tune in to watch me finally defeat the almighty homeless cowboy with no real finishing move. Here, I'll give you one. It's called 1...2...3. It's real easy, just lay down and let me pin you. It'll be as quick as 1...2...3!
Funny how a simple prank call can send a man over the edge. The mind is already funny after midnight. People do stupid things and things they wouldn't normally do during the daylight. Everyone's mentality changes. But Whelan, he is special. He can take this phenomenon to a whole new level. And all it can take is a simple phone call, a prank call? The man they call "Insane" Shane can go from a happy, childish state of entertainment to such a twisted and warped individual.
Call me again! Call me now you crazy son of a...you crazy son of a...call me now! I don't need to change a damn thing about myself! I like chairs! I like women! I like the beach! I like living! I like winning! And I'm gonna like being WWE Champion because I will be the one facing Matt Sydal after I'm finished concussing Roy and Tyger at The Bash!
Whelan jumps onto his bed and in the process rips off his guinea tee. His pectoral muscles flex and his beautiful six-pack abs turn his skin to stone. The camera angle widens showing the mirror in the corner of the room, still resting on an angle with the floor. Whelan wastes no further time in cementing his statement. Shattered glass! Clack and crash and clank and crack!
I meant that in the nicest way possible...
The scene fades to black to the image of the steel chair impaling the broken glass mirror. In the background, a distorted image of Whelan can be seen as he stands high on top of his king size bed.
Woooo! That's what I'm talking about!
As the song finishes, Whelan sits up on his bed and wipes some sweat off his forehead before he rests his hands on his knees and catches his breath. The camera catches a few portraits on his white wall. One portrait shows a scene of him pinning Bryan Danielson to win the Saturday Night's Main Event Custom Championship. The other portrait on the right side of his bed focues on a beautiful woman sunbathing in the distance on a beach during sunfall. The beach is most likely his hometown of Wildwood Crest.
Suddenly, the phone on the dresser by Whelan's bed begins to ring. The camera focuses on a digital clock on his dresser also which reads "3:07 AM." Confused as to who would be calling him at such an early hour, Whelan hesitates before he presses the speaker button.
A strange, deep voice begins to pitch an idea to Shane as to how he can improve his life-style. Whelan listens but does not understand the point of the call nor does he know the caller's voice. The voice sounds muffled as if the caller is trying to disguise his/her identity.
Wait, wait, slow down, what are you talking about? My life-style? Listen here...
Whelan tries to talk to the caller but he is cut off as the caller reveals himself to be a stalker and notices how Whelan likes to take shortcuts.
VOICE: Shane, I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm looking to help. I know you're having trouble and with your recent loss to Justin Tyger, I'm concerned.
Whoa, whoa, wait! Please, let me talk. I don't know who you are but I'm going to have this call traced...
VOICE: Do not bother, I'm using a secure line. I have special connections that ensure my safety from a vicious man like yourself. I just want to talk some sense into you before your match at The Bash against Tyger and Roy.
If this is you Roy, I want to let you know that I will have you arrested for harassment! Same to you, Tyger! Same to everyone!
Whelan stands up and disconnects the phone from the wall. His face is red with anger and he begins to breath heavily. If anyone was to see Whelan now, they should know that he has reached a breaking point in his conscious. The line that normally separates a rational man from an insane man has been stretched thin for Whelan as he is going through one of his many personality transformations. It will only be a matter of time before he punches a whole through his newly spackled and painted wall.
What in the hell was that all about?!
Then it happens, a grin appears on his face as he starts to head towards a mirror placed in the corner of the room. It is yet to be hung. The camera focuses in on the mirror from the floor, revealing most of Whelan's body in the glass. Stage one of insanity.
I do not take shortcuts. So, I don't want to show up for a match? I won't. I'll do what I want when I want because I deserve to. I am the best there is to ever walk into a WWE ring and I've never been given a fair shot at the World Title. An outrage, I believe that's what they call it.
Stage two.
And so I like to use chairs? Tyger and Roy better bring their own blood at The Bash because they're gonna need to spill something when I crack their skulls in. They should just ask Matt Sydal about what happens when I hit someone with a chair. Oh and I'm sure people aren't gonna like that. I suppose people aren't gonna appreciate me hitting them with a chair. Well they can all rot in hell because I'm sure they'd laugh watching me get hit with one!
And I'm going to hurt them over and over. And if the referee gets in my way I'm going to hurt him too! This match, this match...THIS MATCH...it should be no disqualification!
Whelan laughs a little under each heavy breath he takes. Stage three. The final stage.
What? What? YOU DON'T LIKE WHAT I'M SAYING! LOOK AT ME! That's right, stay focused on my eyes. They scare you? They better scare you because if you don't have a reason to run away in fear, you're going to fall victim to me and my little friend, me and my steel chair!
Whelan leaps over his bed and kicks through a pile of shirts and shorts laying across the floor. He slams open his closet door and pulls out a metal, blue folding chair. As he raises it to the ceiling, he cries maniacally.
This...IS...WHAT...I'm...GOING...TO...USE...TO WIN! And nobody can stop me. Tyger, the only reason I didn't show up to our first booked match is because I didn't want to waste a chair on you. I'll bend steel for someone worthy of defeating. You're just a "has been" that will "never be again." And you can go take that little fire in your soul and throw a bucket of water over it because it's about time I put out that stupid little gimmick candle.
And Roy, your name is so stupid! I can't take it, that's why you're not going to win! You have a stupid name. The Roy! How silly!
Shane laughs hysterically but calms down and throws the chair onto the bed.
Nah, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I just like screwing with you. You're fun to fight and you're going to put up one, not like that Justin Hello Kitty Kat. So what do you say you and me just tell Steph to leave him out of the match so it's just you and me? We'll get better ratings because people are going to want to tune in to watch me finally defeat the almighty homeless cowboy with no real finishing move. Here, I'll give you one. It's called 1...2...3. It's real easy, just lay down and let me pin you. It'll be as quick as 1...2...3!
Funny how a simple prank call can send a man over the edge. The mind is already funny after midnight. People do stupid things and things they wouldn't normally do during the daylight. Everyone's mentality changes. But Whelan, he is special. He can take this phenomenon to a whole new level. And all it can take is a simple phone call, a prank call? The man they call "Insane" Shane can go from a happy, childish state of entertainment to such a twisted and warped individual.
Call me again! Call me now you crazy son of a...you crazy son of a...call me now! I don't need to change a damn thing about myself! I like chairs! I like women! I like the beach! I like living! I like winning! And I'm gonna like being WWE Champion because I will be the one facing Matt Sydal after I'm finished concussing Roy and Tyger at The Bash!
Whelan jumps onto his bed and in the process rips off his guinea tee. His pectoral muscles flex and his beautiful six-pack abs turn his skin to stone. The camera angle widens showing the mirror in the corner of the room, still resting on an angle with the floor. Whelan wastes no further time in cementing his statement. Shattered glass! Clack and crash and clank and crack!
I meant that in the nicest way possible...
The scene fades to black to the image of the steel chair impaling the broken glass mirror. In the background, a distorted image of Whelan can be seen as he stands high on top of his king size bed.
