Post by SHADOWLOVE on Aug 21, 2016 9:46:08 GMT -6
“GOD IS DEAD!”
For some very odd reason those three simple words kept resonating in the deep recesses of the subconscious mind of your favorite modern day charismatic and charming, egotistical, narcissistic, politically incorrect, felicitating, self-righteous, second-generation megalomaniac and apex predator, "The Handsome Half-breed" Shadowlove.
He was staring at his reflection through the soot and ash accumulated on a full length mirror while posing like a fashion model on a catwalk in front of a full length mirror inside the burned-out remnant of one of City Hollow’s finest watering holes, The Sloshed Pit. He was stripped to the waist showing off the upper body of a Greek God, with washboard abs, in a black leather trench-coat along with Crocodile skinned pants with Alligator skinned boots.
“The Prodigal Son” Shadowlove ran his fingers through his classic masculine and modern mussed, razor-textured, choppy finished dark brown hair showing off his fighter's face with an ice cold stare which radiants from his blue eyes and down his muscular chest and washboard abs and flicked fake beads of sweat from off his fingers in a “To paraphrase Mark Twain, ‘The rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated!’” style gesture.
"PERSONAL JESUS" by Depeche Mode starts to play on the Bose® (product placement) SoundTouch® (product placement) outdoor surround sound system.
“The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove bows his head and raises his arms straight out to his sides, as if, being crucified on a cross. And on the third day, Jesus, wept. His a low dusky voice rings out fully, with all charm and charisma that one can muster, mister:
SHADOWLOVE: From the very first day of their existence, The Syndicate have been running around the UCI on their high horse bickering and quarreling with anyone who will listen to them about their so-called, self-proclaimed hostile takeover of this organization. And yet, to this day, what exactly has The Syndicate really got to show for their beating a dead horse into the ground with these asinine pomp and circumstance proclamations in this organization? Prestige? Nope! Undue Influence? Nope! Where is this supposedly unfair advantage that you're supposed to have as being a member of The Syndicate? It’s gone up in flames faster than this barbecued joint. The “Nexus” of The Syndicate is loosely based on their own self-imposed career suicides. The “where are they now?” list of The Syndicate is longer than a reservation waiting for baby. . . baby back ribs. Hell, even Mayor Sancho has been disgruntled with the politics of City Hallow lately and is on the top of the list of getting a heart transplant!. Then again, there's that the victimization herself, Erin Fausse, and her failed attempt at corrupting this organization by preaching her lies of being a “born again” love child of. . . God?. . .
Possessing superior strength, and durability, Shadowlove, creating bursts of cyclonic proportions, tornado spins, away from the full length mirror with black ash and grey smoke billowing behind his black leather trench-coat. The full length mirror explodes sending shards of glass flying around him as he straddles a backwards facing chair, crossing his arms on the top of the chair. He rests his forehead on his crossed arms.
SHADOWLOVE: And this organization has the gall to call me “Certifiable”?! Erin, Erin, Erin, the only time that you’ve even come close to meeting God was when you were spreading your legs in every outhouse truck stop restroom from Oskaloosa to God knows where, when screaming like a banshee, “Oh My God, Oh My God!” The has been the only sound that you’ve made when trying to break into the grand scheme of things here in UCI. “God girl”, look what happened to your career after you joined The Syndicate? You have lost to Andre Holmes and Kyle Cameron. KYLE CAMERON FOR GODSAKES?! You owned Andre Holmes and look what he did to you, he filled your mouth with more steel than a Dentist does to an adolescent like David Sanchez with bad teeth. You will never reach the Valhalla that you are so desperately searching for through Mayor Sancho’s blasphemes and your very own spiritual indiscretions. Are you really trying to play the role of victim in the hopes of filling your collection boxes in The Church Of Erin Fausse? Just exactly how much debt is Mayor Sancho running up in City Hollow these days? You both will always be down on your knees praying to Allah, the Devil, or whoever else will listen to you in order to pay off the debt of your poor and incompetent “righteousness” in the very hopes and dreams of even matching the “self-righteous” indignation of “The Prodigal Son & The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove when drawing any real kind of “HEAT” in this organization. . .
The sophisticated carbon fibre and premium Ducati Diavel 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin high performance motorcycle, with Marchesini wheels and and slick Zircotec-coated dual exhaust pipes, sits parked in the middle of the burned-out dive of The Sloshed Pit.
A gracefully sensuous petite, yet dignified, silhouette, spoke of a female, wearing a Vantablack carbon AGV Pista GP Helmet with her attractively well-proportioned, slim, trim, toned body built for sin encased in a form-fitting Dainese Mike lady Vantablack leather jacket, a form-fitting Dainese Alien Vantablack leather pants, and Vantablack SIDI Adventure Gore-Tex boots, swings and pirouettes her leg, with catlike precision, over the gas tank and Rizoma handlebars of the Ducati Diavel.
The gracefully sensuous petite, yet dignified, silhouette slowly removes the Vantablack carbon AGV Pista GP Helmet with Vantablack fingerless gloves revealing the Infamous Superstar's personal bodyguard/valet and “Fashionista Sensei”, Ms. Miyamoto, the simply ravishing femme fatale temptress, with her raven black hair pulled back in a French braid showing off her angelic face with her eyes hidden behind a pair of RayBan sunglasses. Her sweet as honey, harmoniously hypnotizing, smooth as silk, smoky voice radiating through her alluring lips:
MS. MIYAMOTO: Draw near into the doom and gloom, pie in the sky, “Shadow” of the night and fall in “Love” with “The only true God, not The God, but A God” in this organization. Good night Erin Fausse, may the flight of The Dark Gift bring you to your sleep. For all the Angels and Demons have called for “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove-san to set aflame The Syndicate by sending Erin Fausse to suffer in her own eternal damnation. No longer will the United Championship Infinite salvation be dependent on the feeble-minded Mayor Sanchez-san’s self-denial and the self-defiled wisdom of Erin Fausse. . .
“The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove shoots up out of the chair unable to contain all his excitement and starts to "strip" off his black leather trench-coat like a Chippendale's dancer. Spinning the black leather trench-coat around him like a Matador in a bullring, throwing it up into the air, catching it and putting it back on as if nothing has happened.
“HER STRUT" by Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band starts to play on the Bose® (product placement) SoundTouch® (product placement) indoor/outdoor surround sound system.
Ms. Miyamoto exuding fantastic supermodel energy, as she walks with a stiff, erect, and apparently arrogant and conceited "Strut" around Shadowlove. She lowers her RayBan sunglasses, showing off her incandescent green eyes, nodding in approval at such a Magnificent Specimen, Shadowlove-san, while tapping a rolled-up copy of the Wall St. Journal in the palm of her hand.
“The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove raises his head showing off his fighter's face and a malevolent, tight wolfish, whiplash smile, slowly appearing on his lips showing off perfectly white even teeth in a “I’m no Hero, but I do play one on T.V. this week on Overload” shit-eating grin.
SHADOWLOVE: Don't worry, Teddy Blaze, Teo Del Sol, Teddy “Del” Sol, or whatever Tom, Dick, or Harry name that you are going by these days, I haven't forgotten about you. You have been attacked, and will always be attacked relentlessly and without reservation until you figure out the who, the what, the where, and the how of who you want to be in this organization. There has never been such an opportunity to define who the real Teddy Blaze, Teo Del Sol, Teddy Sol, or whatever Tom, Dick, or Harry name that you are going by these days, to speak out in the same manner as that high-flying enigma governed of the people, for the people, by the people that you once were in the hearts and minds of the fans. You have, and will always be, defined by the sun mask of the past, present, and future that smashes into oblivion the evils of the world by being the ray of light of goodness shining bright in this organization. . .
“The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove climbs on the sophisticatedly carbon fibre and premium Ducati Diavel 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin high performance motorcycle, with Marchesini wheels and and slick Zircotec-coated dual exhaust pipes.
MS. MIYAMOTO: But once the sun mask was removed, Theodore “Del” Sol-san, all of that majestic splendor has become an empty shell of your former self, and most unfairly, your career has fallen and collapsed faster than the footsteps of those other nameless milk carton members of The Syndicate. How sad, that Theodore “Del” Sol-san’s persona most responsible for his success has become quite the afterthought in his career like this burned-out remnant of one of City Hollow’s finest watering holes, The Sloshed Pit. For all the shouting-down that Theodore “Del” Sol-san has received throughout his career, he has still remained a gentleman in the United Championship Infinite and the sports entertainment business. You have shown yourself to be model of decorum, but now, Theodore “Del” Sol-san, you choose to once again wallow in the blood, the vomit, and the beer that is the United Championship Infinite. And for what? Until you decide that it is finally time to shout back at the critics and once again become that critically acclaimed phenomenon in the sun mask, then, and only then, will you receive your just due in this organization and in the sports entertainment business. But, that Theodore “Del” Sol-san that you are trying to avoid has come and gone hasn't he? Your preponderance of the rulebook, Theodore “Del” Sol-san, is no longer needed. Good will never triumph over the Evil inside the United Championship Infinite! Only true good and evil can triumph over a charlatan that is Erin Fausse!. . .
The immense and incredibly powerful distinct sound from a Ducati 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin world-beating engine can be heard coming to life and echoes throughout burned-out remnant of one of City Hollows finest watering hole, The Sloshed Pit.
SHADOWLOVE: If Teddy “Del” Sol stands for everything that is good in this organization and Erin Fausse stands for everything that is bad in this organization, then there is only one person in this Triple Threat Match that walks in the midnight garden of both good and evil? And that man is “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove, ME! It is time to set the record straight and show why both Teddy “Del” Sol and Erin Fausse are synonymous with the inaccuracies that define their clouded judgments and bogus career choices in this organization. As entertaining as their tales from the crypt might be to the viewing audience at home, the fact of the matter is that “The Handsome Half-breed” is the only one in this organization that can free the UCI of being completely controlled by The Syndicate and by someone that has spent his entire career living in the shadow of The Guardians. . .
Ms, Miyamoto swings and pirouettes her leg, with catlike precision, over the Ducati Diavel 240/45 ZR17 Pirelli Diablo Rosso II with Marchesini forged and machined, 8.00 x 17, 10-spokes tire and straddles the Vantablack dual leather seat behind Shadowlove.
MS. MIYAMOTO: Without “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove-san, the doorway through which United Championship Infinite enters and exits would be left wide open for any vagabond to pass through and be impervious to the most strenuous poundings of a thousand Theodore “Del” Sol-sans and Erin Fausses of the world that exists in this organization and the sports entertainment business. Say what you will, good or bad, about “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove-san, no one has faced the stiffest competition that this organization has to offer as Shadowlove-san has, be it, Champion or challenger. Doubting Shadowlove-san inside and outside of the squared-circle will make your bubble of hypocrisy grow larger and larger until that bubble bursts with all the falsehoods about his reputation. If the United Championship Infinite didn't believe that “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove-san is the only true God, not The God, but A God in this organization then “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove-san would just walk away and enjoy his retirement. . .
Ms. Miyamoto wraps her arms and legs around Shadowlove’s waist like a Black Widow Spider. She raises her RayBan sunglasses up her perfectly flawless nose on her angelic face with her middle finger.
15 minutes later. . .
The Willow Creek Community Church might have been ground zero for the supposed Fourth Great Awakening of Erin Fausse, but when “The only true God, not The God, but A God” in this organization has the hankering for a Spicy Chicken Sandwich for his last supper, the immense and incredibly powerful distinct sound from a Ducati 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin world-beating engine can be heard coming to a stop outside where the true holy rollers in City Hollow come to wine and dine, Chick-fil-A®.
One of City Hollow’s civil servants comes rushing out the front door holding a Chick-fil-A® bag with a couple of Chick-fil-A® Spicy Chicken Sandwiches and Chick-fil-A Waffle Potato Fries® along with along with a coconut with a little pink umbrella and large sized sweet tea. For some odd reason, the civil servant kinda reminds you of a cross between Erin Fausse and Aubrey Plaza if they hooked up. (stranger things have happened here in the UCI.)
“The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove autographs the Erin Fausse/Aubrey Plaza looking civil servant’s chest with “Send Bill To Mayor Sancho down at City Hollow.” The Erin Fausse/Aubrey Plaza looking civil servant bounces away and gleefully heads back to work.
The sophisticatedly carbon fibre and premium Ducati Diavel 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin high performance motorcycle, with Marchesini wheels and and slick Zircotec-coated dual exhaust pipes speeds away on its merry way to Humboldt Park for a picnic.
THIS IS THE END, MY ONLY FRIEND. . . THE END!
For some very odd reason those three simple words kept resonating in the deep recesses of the subconscious mind of your favorite modern day charismatic and charming, egotistical, narcissistic, politically incorrect, felicitating, self-righteous, second-generation megalomaniac and apex predator, "The Handsome Half-breed" Shadowlove.
He was staring at his reflection through the soot and ash accumulated on a full length mirror while posing like a fashion model on a catwalk in front of a full length mirror inside the burned-out remnant of one of City Hollow’s finest watering holes, The Sloshed Pit. He was stripped to the waist showing off the upper body of a Greek God, with washboard abs, in a black leather trench-coat along with Crocodile skinned pants with Alligator skinned boots.
“The Prodigal Son” Shadowlove ran his fingers through his classic masculine and modern mussed, razor-textured, choppy finished dark brown hair showing off his fighter's face with an ice cold stare which radiants from his blue eyes and down his muscular chest and washboard abs and flicked fake beads of sweat from off his fingers in a “To paraphrase Mark Twain, ‘The rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated!’” style gesture.
"PERSONAL JESUS" by Depeche Mode starts to play on the Bose® (product placement) SoundTouch® (product placement) outdoor surround sound system.
“The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove bows his head and raises his arms straight out to his sides, as if, being crucified on a cross. And on the third day, Jesus, wept. His a low dusky voice rings out fully, with all charm and charisma that one can muster, mister:
SHADOWLOVE: From the very first day of their existence, The Syndicate have been running around the UCI on their high horse bickering and quarreling with anyone who will listen to them about their so-called, self-proclaimed hostile takeover of this organization. And yet, to this day, what exactly has The Syndicate really got to show for their beating a dead horse into the ground with these asinine pomp and circumstance proclamations in this organization? Prestige? Nope! Undue Influence? Nope! Where is this supposedly unfair advantage that you're supposed to have as being a member of The Syndicate? It’s gone up in flames faster than this barbecued joint. The “Nexus” of The Syndicate is loosely based on their own self-imposed career suicides. The “where are they now?” list of The Syndicate is longer than a reservation waiting for baby. . . baby back ribs. Hell, even Mayor Sancho has been disgruntled with the politics of City Hallow lately and is on the top of the list of getting a heart transplant!. Then again, there's that the victimization herself, Erin Fausse, and her failed attempt at corrupting this organization by preaching her lies of being a “born again” love child of. . . God?. . .
Possessing superior strength, and durability, Shadowlove, creating bursts of cyclonic proportions, tornado spins, away from the full length mirror with black ash and grey smoke billowing behind his black leather trench-coat. The full length mirror explodes sending shards of glass flying around him as he straddles a backwards facing chair, crossing his arms on the top of the chair. He rests his forehead on his crossed arms.
SHADOWLOVE: And this organization has the gall to call me “Certifiable”?! Erin, Erin, Erin, the only time that you’ve even come close to meeting God was when you were spreading your legs in every outhouse truck stop restroom from Oskaloosa to God knows where, when screaming like a banshee, “Oh My God, Oh My God!” The has been the only sound that you’ve made when trying to break into the grand scheme of things here in UCI. “God girl”, look what happened to your career after you joined The Syndicate? You have lost to Andre Holmes and Kyle Cameron. KYLE CAMERON FOR GODSAKES?! You owned Andre Holmes and look what he did to you, he filled your mouth with more steel than a Dentist does to an adolescent like David Sanchez with bad teeth. You will never reach the Valhalla that you are so desperately searching for through Mayor Sancho’s blasphemes and your very own spiritual indiscretions. Are you really trying to play the role of victim in the hopes of filling your collection boxes in The Church Of Erin Fausse? Just exactly how much debt is Mayor Sancho running up in City Hollow these days? You both will always be down on your knees praying to Allah, the Devil, or whoever else will listen to you in order to pay off the debt of your poor and incompetent “righteousness” in the very hopes and dreams of even matching the “self-righteous” indignation of “The Prodigal Son & The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove when drawing any real kind of “HEAT” in this organization. . .
The sophisticated carbon fibre and premium Ducati Diavel 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin high performance motorcycle, with Marchesini wheels and and slick Zircotec-coated dual exhaust pipes, sits parked in the middle of the burned-out dive of The Sloshed Pit.
A gracefully sensuous petite, yet dignified, silhouette, spoke of a female, wearing a Vantablack carbon AGV Pista GP Helmet with her attractively well-proportioned, slim, trim, toned body built for sin encased in a form-fitting Dainese Mike lady Vantablack leather jacket, a form-fitting Dainese Alien Vantablack leather pants, and Vantablack SIDI Adventure Gore-Tex boots, swings and pirouettes her leg, with catlike precision, over the gas tank and Rizoma handlebars of the Ducati Diavel.
The gracefully sensuous petite, yet dignified, silhouette slowly removes the Vantablack carbon AGV Pista GP Helmet with Vantablack fingerless gloves revealing the Infamous Superstar's personal bodyguard/valet and “Fashionista Sensei”, Ms. Miyamoto, the simply ravishing femme fatale temptress, with her raven black hair pulled back in a French braid showing off her angelic face with her eyes hidden behind a pair of RayBan sunglasses. Her sweet as honey, harmoniously hypnotizing, smooth as silk, smoky voice radiating through her alluring lips:
MS. MIYAMOTO: Draw near into the doom and gloom, pie in the sky, “Shadow” of the night and fall in “Love” with “The only true God, not The God, but A God” in this organization. Good night Erin Fausse, may the flight of The Dark Gift bring you to your sleep. For all the Angels and Demons have called for “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove-san to set aflame The Syndicate by sending Erin Fausse to suffer in her own eternal damnation. No longer will the United Championship Infinite salvation be dependent on the feeble-minded Mayor Sanchez-san’s self-denial and the self-defiled wisdom of Erin Fausse. . .
“The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove shoots up out of the chair unable to contain all his excitement and starts to "strip" off his black leather trench-coat like a Chippendale's dancer. Spinning the black leather trench-coat around him like a Matador in a bullring, throwing it up into the air, catching it and putting it back on as if nothing has happened.
“HER STRUT" by Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band starts to play on the Bose® (product placement) SoundTouch® (product placement) indoor/outdoor surround sound system.
Ms. Miyamoto exuding fantastic supermodel energy, as she walks with a stiff, erect, and apparently arrogant and conceited "Strut" around Shadowlove. She lowers her RayBan sunglasses, showing off her incandescent green eyes, nodding in approval at such a Magnificent Specimen, Shadowlove-san, while tapping a rolled-up copy of the Wall St. Journal in the palm of her hand.
“The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove raises his head showing off his fighter's face and a malevolent, tight wolfish, whiplash smile, slowly appearing on his lips showing off perfectly white even teeth in a “I’m no Hero, but I do play one on T.V. this week on Overload” shit-eating grin.
SHADOWLOVE: Don't worry, Teddy Blaze, Teo Del Sol, Teddy “Del” Sol, or whatever Tom, Dick, or Harry name that you are going by these days, I haven't forgotten about you. You have been attacked, and will always be attacked relentlessly and without reservation until you figure out the who, the what, the where, and the how of who you want to be in this organization. There has never been such an opportunity to define who the real Teddy Blaze, Teo Del Sol, Teddy Sol, or whatever Tom, Dick, or Harry name that you are going by these days, to speak out in the same manner as that high-flying enigma governed of the people, for the people, by the people that you once were in the hearts and minds of the fans. You have, and will always be, defined by the sun mask of the past, present, and future that smashes into oblivion the evils of the world by being the ray of light of goodness shining bright in this organization. . .
“The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove climbs on the sophisticatedly carbon fibre and premium Ducati Diavel 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin high performance motorcycle, with Marchesini wheels and and slick Zircotec-coated dual exhaust pipes.
MS. MIYAMOTO: But once the sun mask was removed, Theodore “Del” Sol-san, all of that majestic splendor has become an empty shell of your former self, and most unfairly, your career has fallen and collapsed faster than the footsteps of those other nameless milk carton members of The Syndicate. How sad, that Theodore “Del” Sol-san’s persona most responsible for his success has become quite the afterthought in his career like this burned-out remnant of one of City Hollow’s finest watering holes, The Sloshed Pit. For all the shouting-down that Theodore “Del” Sol-san has received throughout his career, he has still remained a gentleman in the United Championship Infinite and the sports entertainment business. You have shown yourself to be model of decorum, but now, Theodore “Del” Sol-san, you choose to once again wallow in the blood, the vomit, and the beer that is the United Championship Infinite. And for what? Until you decide that it is finally time to shout back at the critics and once again become that critically acclaimed phenomenon in the sun mask, then, and only then, will you receive your just due in this organization and in the sports entertainment business. But, that Theodore “Del” Sol-san that you are trying to avoid has come and gone hasn't he? Your preponderance of the rulebook, Theodore “Del” Sol-san, is no longer needed. Good will never triumph over the Evil inside the United Championship Infinite! Only true good and evil can triumph over a charlatan that is Erin Fausse!. . .
The immense and incredibly powerful distinct sound from a Ducati 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin world-beating engine can be heard coming to life and echoes throughout burned-out remnant of one of City Hollows finest watering hole, The Sloshed Pit.
SHADOWLOVE: If Teddy “Del” Sol stands for everything that is good in this organization and Erin Fausse stands for everything that is bad in this organization, then there is only one person in this Triple Threat Match that walks in the midnight garden of both good and evil? And that man is “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove, ME! It is time to set the record straight and show why both Teddy “Del” Sol and Erin Fausse are synonymous with the inaccuracies that define their clouded judgments and bogus career choices in this organization. As entertaining as their tales from the crypt might be to the viewing audience at home, the fact of the matter is that “The Handsome Half-breed” is the only one in this organization that can free the UCI of being completely controlled by The Syndicate and by someone that has spent his entire career living in the shadow of The Guardians. . .
Ms, Miyamoto swings and pirouettes her leg, with catlike precision, over the Ducati Diavel 240/45 ZR17 Pirelli Diablo Rosso II with Marchesini forged and machined, 8.00 x 17, 10-spokes tire and straddles the Vantablack dual leather seat behind Shadowlove.
MS. MIYAMOTO: Without “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove-san, the doorway through which United Championship Infinite enters and exits would be left wide open for any vagabond to pass through and be impervious to the most strenuous poundings of a thousand Theodore “Del” Sol-sans and Erin Fausses of the world that exists in this organization and the sports entertainment business. Say what you will, good or bad, about “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove-san, no one has faced the stiffest competition that this organization has to offer as Shadowlove-san has, be it, Champion or challenger. Doubting Shadowlove-san inside and outside of the squared-circle will make your bubble of hypocrisy grow larger and larger until that bubble bursts with all the falsehoods about his reputation. If the United Championship Infinite didn't believe that “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove-san is the only true God, not The God, but A God in this organization then “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove-san would just walk away and enjoy his retirement. . .
Ms. Miyamoto wraps her arms and legs around Shadowlove’s waist like a Black Widow Spider. She raises her RayBan sunglasses up her perfectly flawless nose on her angelic face with her middle finger.
15 minutes later. . .
The Willow Creek Community Church might have been ground zero for the supposed Fourth Great Awakening of Erin Fausse, but when “The only true God, not The God, but A God” in this organization has the hankering for a Spicy Chicken Sandwich for his last supper, the immense and incredibly powerful distinct sound from a Ducati 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin world-beating engine can be heard coming to a stop outside where the true holy rollers in City Hollow come to wine and dine, Chick-fil-A®.
One of City Hollow’s civil servants comes rushing out the front door holding a Chick-fil-A® bag with a couple of Chick-fil-A® Spicy Chicken Sandwiches and Chick-fil-A Waffle Potato Fries® along with along with a coconut with a little pink umbrella and large sized sweet tea. For some odd reason, the civil servant kinda reminds you of a cross between Erin Fausse and Aubrey Plaza if they hooked up. (stranger things have happened here in the UCI.)
“The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove autographs the Erin Fausse/Aubrey Plaza looking civil servant’s chest with “Send Bill To Mayor Sancho down at City Hollow.” The Erin Fausse/Aubrey Plaza looking civil servant bounces away and gleefully heads back to work.
The sophisticatedly carbon fibre and premium Ducati Diavel 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin high performance motorcycle, with Marchesini wheels and and slick Zircotec-coated dual exhaust pipes speeds away on its merry way to Humboldt Park for a picnic.
THIS IS THE END, MY ONLY FRIEND. . . THE END!
