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“So, what exactly did you say is going on here?”
“Wrestlers Court.” Finlay scowled at Sheamus for moment before remembering he hadn’t actually experienced this sort of shit yet. And was also generally accepted as being one of the people not at fault for this particular incident. Mostly.
“Okay, fine . But like...hrm. What is the general outcome?”
“Whoever is leading court will listen to the…parties involved and decide who is at fault. The at-fault party is generally ordered to buy beer for the locker room and then the entire thing is dropped. For good. ” He shrugged his shoulders slightly. Buying beer was a far better outcome than what he himself had initially thought it was going to be.
“Mm. That sounds slightly less horrifying than what I might have been imaging.” He was almost amused now, as he could guess what Finlay might have been anticipating the first time someone told him he was being dragged off to face Wrestler’s Court.
Finlay laughed dryly at Sheamus. “Yes well, that was more or less my reaction to hearing about it at first as well. I was ... concerned shall we say, about what the outcome was going to be.”
“And you are entirely certain that….that that is not going to be the outcome?”
“You’re not likely to even be on that end of the equation, what does it matter?”
“At some point I probably am going to be? That’s why?”
The boy had a point. “Look, there ain’t no kneecapping happening here. Possibly people getting a little too...into it in the ring, but we...try to stay away from the more intentionally damaging shit. You buy the beer, you drop the matter for good. That’s it. ” He stretched as he kept pushing Sheamus onward to the locker room. “Relax kid, nothing bad is going to happen. They’ll apologize, buy beer, it’ll be fine.” He pondered for a moment longer before continuing. “You’re not going to cause anyone having gotten actually hurt.”
“Why thanks for finally getting to the fucking point.”
Another dry laugh. “Watch the language, boy.” And another consideration. “Also, legitimately, watch the language. Don’t go slipping into Irish or what the fuck ever it’s called. It’ll actually piss off Undertaker who’s running Court.” He thought he remembered Sheamus having mentioned being brought up speaking Irish in school. Pretty sure of it. Guess the Republic would have Irish language schools, after all.
“Mm, is that so.”
A statement, not a question. “Yes, it’s not like English is the only language all of us share or anything, no .” Brat.
“Fair, fair.” Sheamus sighed and looked at the door to the locker room and where they were going to be holding ‘Court’. “Can’t be staying?”
“Hey, be happy someone was here to warn you at all and not just drag you off to the locker room. Nicer than what I got, after all.”
One eyebrow raised slightly. “Now that’s a story I want to hear after this shit is resolved.”
“Hm, think we can work something out for that.” With that he shoved Sheamus through the door and into Court on the other side.